July O.Henry 2014

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In real estate, it’s called a closing. But we like to think of it as a beginning. Buying or selling a home is likely to be one of the single biggest transactions of your life. Thankfully, it can also be one of the most satisfying. With our real estate sales and mortgage professionals in your corner, we deliver the tools to help you find the perfect home. We also live in the communities we serve and know them better than anyone. Because while a new home is certainly about starting fresh, it’s always nice to have the experience of a Great Neighbor at your side.

BHHSYostandLittle.com ©2014 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC. Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.



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July 2014 departments

9 Simple Life By Jim Dodson

FeaTUres

51 Pet Psychic

15 Doo Dad

17 The City Muse

18 Life’s Funny

20 Omnivorous Reader

23 Bookshelf

27 N.C. Writer’s Notebook

29 Best Reader Memoirs 2014

31 The Evolving Species

62 Lady Jane Gorrell Downsizes By Cynthia Adams

35 A Dog’s Life

71 July Almanac By Noah Salt

37 Lunch with a Friend

40 Artist at Work

44 Sporting Life

47 Life of Jane

By Kevin Reid By Emily Frazier Brown By Maria Johnson By Stephen E. Smith By Brian Lampkin By Sandra Redding

Woodsen E. Faulkner II

By Nancy Oakley

By David C. Bailey

52 Karen Turey Cecil By Jenny Drabble Shares tips on taking Purr-fect pet photos

54 Shop Dogs By Jenny Drabble

A retailer’s best friend can be a cold, wet nose and a wagging tail

58 The Dog who Found Me By Jim Dodson How our editor fell deeply in love

60 Butchy By James Colasanti Jr.

A dog, Hula-Hoops and a birthday that will never be forgotten How to make a big move to a smaller place

Dragonflies and “Dog Days” of summer

By Cynthia Adams By Maria Johnson By Tom Bryant

By Jane Borden

74 84 86 92 95

Poetry by Jonathan K. Rice

Arts & Entertainment June Calendar Worth the Drive GreenScene Photo Booth Dogs Accidental Astrologer By Astrid Stellanova

96 O.Henry Ending By Barbara Currie

Why are there cats in O.Henry’s dog issue? Because in our planning session, staff illustrator Harry Blair blurted out, “What about cats?” After several moments of dead silence gripped the staff, Harry said “You can’t have dogs without cats.” And so Harry’s feline alter ego informs the pages of our feature well with “catty comments,” giving us all some paws to reflect.

Cover Photograph by K aren Turey Cecil

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June 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


July is the Time to Have Fun Outdoors with Your Dog The Natural Dog offers More Fun Options for Your Pet than Anyone Else! It’s also the time to keep your Dog Protected from Fleas & Ticks. Protect & Play with Your Dog this Summer with our Selection of Life Jackets and Floating Toys. When they get Wet & Dirty from Swimming, bring them to our You-Do-It Dog Wash or our Full Service Dog Hair Salon.

Largest Selection of Premium & Natural Pet Foods in Greensboro • Dog & Cat Supplies • Largest Selection of USA made Pet Products • Great Gifts for Pet Lovers • Wild Bird Supplies & Organic Chicken Feed

• Grooming – Full Service “Dog Hair Salon” • You-Do-It Dog Wash • Dog Training • Pet Food Delivery

Ask About our Pet Allergy Test Kit! We might not have a big box name, but we have over 45 years experience in the Pet Industry and we bring to you the best selection and best prices in town! If our Regular Price doesn’t beat their Regular Price, tell us and we will match it! Join our Loyalty Program and SAVE on your Favorite Dog & Cat Foods! Exceptional Customer Service!

The Coolest New Pet Store in Town!

Love Your Dog, Love The Natural Dog. 3708 Lawndale Drive | Greensboro, NC 27455 | 336-763-2015| Monday-Saturday 9-9 | Sunday 12-6


New Anterior Approach for Total Hip Replacement This technique offers a patient less pain and scarring as well as an anticipated shorter recovery time.

M A G A Z I N E Volume 4, No. 7 “I have a fancy that every city has a voice.” 336.617.0090 1848 Banking Street Greensboro, NC 27408 www.ohenrymag.com Jim Dodson, Editor jim@ohenrymag.com Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director andie@ohenrymag.com David Claude Bailey, Senior Editor dbailey@ohenrymag.com Lauren Shumaker, Graphic Designer Kira Schoenfelder, Graphic Designer Contributing Editors Cynthia Adams, Harry Blair, Maria Johnson, Jim Schlosser Contributing Photographers Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Sam Froelich, Laura L. Gingerich, Hannah Sharpe Contributors Jane Borden, Emily Frazier Brown, Tom Bryant, Porter Chamblee, James Colasanti Jr., Barbara Currie, Brianna

Matthew D. Olin, MD

is a fellowship trained hip surgeon with extensive experience performing direct anterior total hip replacement surgery. To schedule an appointment with Matthew D. Olin, MD to determine if this surgery is for you. Call: 336.545.5030

Rolfe Cunningham, Jenny Drabble, Woodsen E. Faulkner II, Laurel Holden, Sara King, Brian Lampkin, Meridith Martens, Mary Novitsky, Ogi Overman, Nancy Oakley, Kevin Reid, Sandra Redding, Jonathan K. Rice, Noah Salt, Stephen E. Smith, Astrid Stellanova

O.H

David Woronoff, Publisher Advertising Sales Marty Hefner, Sales Director 336.707.6893, mhefner@ohenrymag.com Hattie Aderholdt, 336.601.1188 Amy Grove, 336.456.0827 Circulation Darlene Stark, Circulation Director 910.693.2488 Advertising Graphic Design 910.693.2469, lauren@ohenrymag.com Judi Hewett, Graphic Designer

For more information about Dr. Olin and surgery visit www.greensborohipandkneesurgeon.com

Subscriptions Dana Martin 336.617.0090, dana@ohenrymag.com ©Copyright 2014. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. O.Henry Magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

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July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Cures for the Summertime Blues Visit The View on Elm to see all of Theo Eyewear’s summertime color cures.

Art for Eyes | Eye for Arts Fine Eyewear, Artwork and Jewelry 327 South Elm | Greensboro 336.274.1278 | TheViewOnElm.com Becky Causey, Licensed Optician



Simple Life

Summer Evenings By Jim Dodson

The best part of

Illustration by Laurel Holden

any summer day is evening. As the light expires and the heat of day yields to the cool of night, a kind of magic realism takes possession of the world. New life stirs by degrees. Lovers inch closer on the blanket. Children light sparklers or do cartwheels on the lawn. The old ones sit on porches quietly talking, fondly recalling things, gently rocking. The village orchestra warms up on the college lawn. They’re playing Sousa and Copland tonight.

As apricot light gives way to twilight blue, it is as if the world is exhaling from a tough day in traffic or the fatigue of family vacation. Work in the garden is over. The porch swing creaks. Venus rides low in the east, the first stars visible. And oh, look — the summer’s first fireflies are out, too. The sprinkler bursts on and hisses. The cat pads home. Neighborhood sounds seem close enough to touch. Somewhere a screen door slaps shut, a woman laughs, a guitar is being played, a bath is being run, dinner served, a candle lit, wine poured, prayers said. On such an evening, one can be forgiven the folly of thinking you just may live forever, or at least long enough to see the Blue Mosque and the Ganges at sunset. A fine summer evening makes one briefly think all things are possible, that there is still time enough left to actually do it, that there is really no such thing as old because you can almost reach out and touch your vanished childhood. Just yesterday you were sitting in the highest seat on the ferris wheel when it stopped to let others on, granting you both a perfect view of everything. You longed to take her hand because her hair smelled like Prell and tangerines. Hot summer nights, mid-July When you and I were forever wild, The crazy days, the city lights, The way you’d play with me like a child. The opening lines of Lana Del Rey’s soulful “Young and Beautiful,” the theme song from Baz Luhrmann’s recent film adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, express this Pyrrhic hunger for life and experience quite nicely even though the movie itself was something of an untidy mess, not unlike the author’s own life. Will you still love me, she laments, when I’m no longer young and beautiful? Poets and children have always found summer evenings irresistible fare. In his mesmerizing novella Enchanted Night, Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist Steven Millhauser creates an entire New England town bewitched by the supernatural power of high summer darkness. Under the influence of a full moon, children

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

in a small Connecticut town are drawn from their beds while their abandoned stuffed animals come to life in attics across town. A gang of teenage girls roams the streets breaking into homes to steal refrigerator magnets and toothbrushes, leaving giddy notes that declare, “We are your daughters!” A store mannequin comes to life in search of love; an insomniac novelist finally leaves his mother’s house to engage in a debate about existence; and an introverted girl bathes in the moonlit surf. For anyone who has been bored by summer’s sweltering sameness, Millhauser’s evocation of a world that comes alive at dusk with secret desires and unexplored passions is nothing shy of an invitation to surrender to bittersweet imagination. Centuries before, Shakespeare worked this same turf to great effect when he made summer night dreams a fine mad romp of confused love that vanished with the morning light. When I was young my older brother, Dickie, and I seemed to live out of doors all summer. Our feet were always dirty. We ran wild through the neighborhood, or I did anyway, damming creeks and making forts where I sat on the bank and and read Classics Illustrated and dreamed of living in England. I rode my bike all over God’s green acre pretending I was there already, in fact, pedaling like an orphanage runaway down a hedgerow lane, eager to escape the gravity of my sleepy Southern life any way possible. Henry James may truly have believed that the two most beautiful words in the English language were “summer afternoon,” but they felt bone-lonely and unbearably endless to me in my solitary outdoor boyhood, the reason I later took to golf and camping and mowing lawns. Our father was a newspaper man who moved us to four different places in the old Confederacy during the first seven years of my life, which left me with few if any playmates — I remember exactly none before about age 7 — but left me free to roam at will, read books and comics, explore old sheds and conduct the Punic Wars with my painted Greek and Roman soldiers in the cool dirt beneath whatever fan-cooled house we were living in. Our mother was a former beauty queen who’d lost a second baby not long ago; she sometimes napped in the long afternoons while our maid, Jesse May Richardson, ironed my father’s shirts in the kitchen, humming to the gospel tunes she dialed up on the small transistor radio in the kitchen window, the tap water in her Coca-Cola bottle sloshing back and forth as she sprinkled the fabric and sang about flying away to Jesus. After Vacation Bible School was over, if I pestered hard enough, Miss Jesse May sometimes let me tag along with her to do the weekly shopping at the Piggly Wiggly, which was the only place in town fully air conditioned — Do step inside where it’s . . . coooool, read the sign in the front window showing a friendly penguin with a jaunty cap. Miss Jesse May didn’t believe in dawdling and had complete authority over my personal affairs. “Don’t you dare let me catch them sandals off your feet,” she instructed firmly before briskly setting off for the vegetable aisle. “And don’t let me learn you’ve made a whisker of trouble in this store.” I rarely made trouble, per se, sometimes just temporary “king seats” out of the flour sacks in the baking aisle. But trust me when I tell you I never failed to shuck those sorry Vacation Bible School sandals faster than you could say July 2014

O.Henry 9


Simple Life “Martha White Self-Rising Flour,” just to slide my bare hot and dirty feet over those cool airconditioned floor tiles for a blissfully rebellious moment or two before Miss Jesse May came wheeling around the aisle looking as unimpressed as a concrete Jesus. It was only summer evenings that made this life half-tolerable, or so I thought at the time. The whole world seemed to change for the better as the shadows on the lawn lengthened and the hot light of South Carolina kindly expired its term. My father came home with a loosened necktie and made highballs for himself and my mother. They sat and talked beneath the slowly turning ceiling fan on the wraparound porch. I remember the powerful smell of honeysuckle out there, caladiums big as dinner plates, maybe even gardenia in bloom. More than once after supper was cleared away, before she went home to a separate life I knew nothing about, Miss Jesse May dialed up a jackleg rockabilly station from Sumter and taught me to “feet dance” by placing my bare feet on top of her fleshy ones and shimmying across the floor. My mother sometimes joined in, almost her old self again. My father just grinned like a fool, standing in the kitchen doorway. He had wooden feet, my mother joked. “All two of them.” Miss Jesse May passed away just weeks before we moved home to Greensboro, where my father’s

people went back for generations. As I recall, we were the only white folks at her funeral. Because of her, my mother became a very fine Southern cook and crack gardener, and I learned to dance and like fancy gospel music. That next summer we took our first family vacation to the beach, putting up at the rustic Seaside Club, where we used to go when my father worked at the paper in Wilmington. Summer evenings took on a whole new cast after that. The adults gathered on the porches in summer evenings, whiskey sours and cheap wine in hand, telling jokes we weren’t permitted to hear, raucous laughter from the upper porch, women in sundresses with sunburned shoulders. A new tribe of kids took me into their ranks. They came from everywhere — Ohio, Pennsylvania, Chapel Hill. I saw them — a few, anyway — for six straight summers. We roamed the beach at dusk, hooting and pretending to be big trouble; ogled gutted sand sharks hung up like Mussolini and his mistress on the pier; and snuck up sandy stairways into the vast dim ballroom at Lumina Pavillion to watch older teenagers dance and make out. Somewhat later, I saw my first naked woman other than my mother through a convenient knot-hole my buddy Brad found in the pine wall of the women’s dressing room beneath the Seaside Club. That same week I gigged my first flounder in the evening flats off

Bald Head Island, in those days just a sea-washed island with its lonely unworking lighthouse, reached only by skiff with a wheezing outboard. At age 13, the last summer we stayed at the Seaside Club, there were fireworks on the Fourth and I kissed my first non-relative girl, if you don’t count my girl cousin Teddy back in Greensboro. This girl’s name was Candy. She was from Xenia, Ohio, a town obliterated that next spring by a terrible tornado. I stared at the unbelievable photos in Time magazine and never heard from her again. She wrote me twice before the twister struck, but I never wrote back. They say your life is shaped by the people and places of your first ten years of life. If that’s true, and I believe it is, I am seriously beholden to Jesse May Richardson and those long summer evenings when I learned to feet dance and love gospel music and the coolness of dusk lit by fireflies. I am indebted to the Seaside Club and my roaming beach tribe and Brad and his naked woman and Candy the pretty girl I kissed but never had the courage to write. Summer may end too soon. But summer evenings, I have grown to believe, like a love of gardening and good Southern cooking, must stay with a soul forever. OH Contact editor Jim Dodson at jim@ohenrymag.com

Gated Community . . .

$1,500,000.00

on Three Wooded Acres in the City Catherine Feeney Broker/REALTOR 336-509-3188 Catherine.feeney@gmail.com © 2014 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC. Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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Novant Health Davidson Cardiology 211 Old Lexington Road 336-472-1191 nhdavidsoncardiology.org

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Novant Health Winston-Salem Cardiology 186 Kimel Park Drive 336-277-2000 nhwinstonsalemcardiology.org Novant Health Winston-Salem Cardiology 250 Charlois Boulevard 336-277-2000 nhwinstonsalemcardiology.org

Virginia locations Galax

Novant Health Heart and Vascular 812 West Stuart Drive 276-238-3318 nhheartandvascular.org


Short Stories

“Greens”-boro Embraces the Big Red

This July, Greensboro’s turning red, putting tomatoes in the limelight. Stake out a place at the fifth annual Great Tomato Festival, hosted by NC A&T State University on Saturday, July 26, from 8 a.m. until noon, rain or shine. With kid-friendly activities such as salsa making and tomato tastings all morning, this is going to be one saucy affair your family won’t want to miss. Tours of A&T Farm’s research plots will also leave at 8, 10 and 11 a.m. Put on your creative cap and compete in a tomato cook-off with four categories: tomato salad, tomato main course, tomato dessert and salsa. Recipes are due by July 8 and the tasting is July 26 at 10:20 a.m., with a People’s Choice Tasting at 11:30 a.m. Finally, get the answers to all your tomato and gardening queries from master gardeners. For instance, since a tomato is a fruit, does that makes ketchup a jam? Tickets: (336) 375-5876. JD

Sauce of the Month

“Everybody in my hometown made barbecue,” says the Crazy Ribman, aka Memphis-born Rex Durrett. But what he puts on his ribs is anything but another ketchup-based, Memphis-style rib sauce. After apprenticing with his mom, Ella Mae Durrett, who sold fish and ribs out of their home, Durrett struck out, cooking his way across some of the South’s best barbecue territory — Texas, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina and Missouri. His sauce tastes like where’s he’d been. “I mix mine up with stuff that I tasted in all those different places,” he says. Semisweet and complex with a mustard tang, it gets most of its heat from black pepper. Durrett says people started calling him crazy after he began giving some of the food he’d grilled away to hungry bystanders. Durrett designs and builds decks during the week, and on weekends, he cooks chicken, fish, shrimp and ribs in the parking lot of a service station on East Market just down from Skipper’s All Beef Hot Dogs. If he’s not there, he might be catering at Grove Winery, where his ribs have become legendary at special events. He doesn’t bottle his sauce commercially, but he’ll send some home with you if you say pretty please. (336) 254-6811 DCB

Movies Made Palatable

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Now Hear This

Indulge your appetite for film, food and fun this month with the Food For Thought film series at UNCG’s Weatherspoon Art Museum. Spread over three Thursdays, the program dishes up tastings of local food at 6:30 p.m., followed by flavorful flicks at 7 p.m. The first pairing, on July 10, will feature samples from Adeline Talbot along with Margaret and Salem Neff. Chase their goodies with A Matter of Taste: Serving Up Paul Liebrandt, a documentary that follows the young chef over ten years as he struggles to make it in New York’s hotly competitive haute cuisine scene. On July 17, Greensboro artists Harriet Hoover and Early Smith will host a book launch and food tasting before the screening of Pressure Cooker, the story of Wilma Stephenson’s culinary boot camp, in which four out of ten applicants wash out. Never a bland moment. The final evening, July 24, begins with organic food samples courtesy of Lee Mortensen and vendors from the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market downtown. After that, relish How to Cook Your Life, in which Zen priest and vegetarian chef Edward Espe Brown shares his secrets of food and meditation. Digest more at weatherspoon.uncg.edu. PC

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Boasting performances by guest artists such as Sir James Galway, James Ehnes, Elmar Oliveira, Robert Vernon, Lynn Harrell and Jon Kimura Parker, the EMF is music to our ears. But tickets to Eastern Music Festival events can be a bit on the steep side. For music lovers looking to satisfy their musical appetite without breaking the bank, tune in to concerts by the famous musicians of tomorrow with these free concerts and performances: • “Musically Speaking,” pre-concert lectures held Friday and Saturday night until July 26 at 7 p.m. before some of the concerts (please call first). • Open rehearsals at Dana Auditorium Tuesdays, July 1, 8, 15 and 22, from 10:30 a.m. until noon, offering a sneak preview of the evening show (again, call first) . • Young Artists Chamber Recitals, July 9, at 7 p.m. and July 14, 21, 22 and 26 from 1:30 p.m. to 3:45 p.m. • Music for a Sunday Evening in the Park (MUSEP) performances July 13 and 20 featuring Young Artists Orchestra and a MUSEP fringe artist. • Performances by the String Scholars at local libraries — on June 30, 10:30 a.m., Benjamin Branch; July 1, 3 p.m., Hemphill Branch; July 2, 10 a.m., Vance Chavis Branch; July 7, 2:30 p.m., Main Library Downtown; July 8, 3 p.m., Kathleen Clay Edwards Branch; July 14, 10:30 a.m., Glenwood Branch; July 15, 10 a.m., McGirt Horton Branch. Info: (336) 333-7450 or easternmusicfestival.org. JD

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Mayhem in Tablet Form

Jerry Bledsoe’s true-crime stories are now available as e-books. Or should that be eek-books? The electronic versions of Before He Wakes, Bitter Blood, Blood Games and Death Sentence can be had for a few bucks and clicks at the websites of Barnes & Noble, Amazon, ibooks and the Canadian electronic bookseller Kobo. Each book by the once News & Record columnist tells a mind-boggling story of murder within a North Carolina family. Recommended for enthralling beach reading. Not recommended for reading just prior to Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and wedding anniversaries. MJ

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Toe Jams

If you’re a dancer or wanna-be dancer from age 18 months to 18 years, Dance Project: The School at City Arts has something to set you twirling this summer. Toddle into a class called Dancing with Tots on Tuesday mornings; drop in on a hip-hop, tap, modern, jazz or ballet class once a week; or sign up for a dance camp based on Alice in Wonderland or Charlotte’s Web. Raise your hand, er, claw, if you can think of anything more fun than dancing the part of Templeton the Rat. The school is a division of Dance Project Inc., a nonprofit that is allied with the city’s arts program. Classes meet June 16 to August 16 (off Fourth of July week) at the Cultural Center downtown. To register or see a complete listing of offerings, go to www. danceproject.org. MJ

Ogi Sez Ogi Overman Hot fun in the summertime is the way we roll here in the Gate City, beginning with Independence Day.

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Happy 90th!

“It’ll be the bee’s knees, a ducky day with no lollygagging, filled with fun from the 1920s,” the Greensboro Historical Museum promises. The Museum is billing July 12 a “Roaring 20s Flashback Saturday.” Celebrating the museum’s 90th birthday, expect Roaring 20s’ dancers at noon, live jazz from 1 p.m. until 3 p.m., an old-fashioned silent movie with popcorn at 2 p.m., plus storytelling, crafts and refreshments. Come find your inner flapper. Info: (336) 373-2043 or greensborohistory.org. DCB

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A’luring

It may seem like an odd combination, but on a recent Saturday at the Farmers Curb Market (gsofarmersmarkert.org) near downtown Greensboro, the booth of husband-and-wife team Sharon and Ray Apple featured homemade jam and fishing lures. Since he has personally tested all the flies and popping bugs he ties by hand, Ray can give you the inside scoop on which fish will be biting what and when. Meanwhile, Sharon lures connoisseurs of sweet stuff with samples of her homemade jam — blackberry and pineapple preserves, watermelon rind jelly, and plum and pineapple jam. Her apple butter, by the way, is textbook. Help them come up with a name for their joint enterprise. Jam & Flies doesn’t work. Lures & Confitures? Naahhhh. Still Hollow Fruit Butter & Bugs? C’mon. Maybe A’Luring Crafts. DCB The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Harry’s Choice

Harry Blair liked Jim Dodson’s “Waitresses We Love,” in O.Henry’s June issue, but thinks O.Henry ought to establish another category: “Barkeeps that Harry Loves.” At the head of the list he and his wife, Maureen, want to nominate Natalie Popovich, who’s behind the bar on weekends at Harper’s Restaurant. Harry says to order a can of Guinness and see how Natalie serves it. “She’s working on her third degree at UNCG,” says Harry. “Two years ago, she got degrees in piano and psychology. Now she’s working on her master’s in English.” On weekdays she takes classes and student-teaches at Western Guilford. But get her to do the can thing with a Guinness if you really want to be impressed, Harry says. DCB

• July 4, White Oak Amphitheatre: Now that the coliseum’s outdoor venue is open, the fireworks have moved there. The Philharmonia of Greensboro will provide the music, beginning at 7:30 p.m., with the 1812 Overture cranking up around dark — and the boomers following shortly thereafter. • July 5, Shiners: The erstwhile Clubhouse at Quaker Village Shopping Center is open under new ownership (Roger Bolton) with both a spruced-up venue and entertainment lineup. Check out Sunset Renegades, a fine-as-wine country rock outfit from Lewisville, the Saturday after the fourth. • July 18, Blind Tiger: Three killer bands for the price of one, with both The Collection and Andrew Eversole holding CD release parties, and Matty Sheets and the Blockheads also debuting some new material. An 8:30 p.m. show, for us aging hippies. • July 26, Presbyterian Church of the Covenant: The inaugural Mendenhall Jubilee will feature three acts that span the musical spectrum — Yer Crooked Cousins (folk, bluegrass), Lowland Hum (singer/songwriter, profiled recently in the local gazette by yours truly) and Unit Three (jazz). If you think this is an odd venue, you’d be wrong. • July 27, National Military Park: A local Southern rock unit that is creating quite a buzz, Carolina Coalmine will make its debut at the Music for a Sunday Evening in the Park (MUSEP) series. Opening at 6:15 p.m. will be the ever-popular folk trio Warren, Bodle & Allen. OO July 2014

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A full service grooming salon for your pets. Call 336-545-5557 to schedule an appointment. * $10 nail trims - walk in availability.

For pets and their people. Locally owned & operated since 1992. Same great place, brand new space.

Salon Hours Monday-Saturday 8 a.m.-5 p.m.

July Calendar of Events

Large selection of quality pet foods Huge variety of breed specific gifts Knowledgeable staff offering exceptional customer service Large selection of pet supplies including beds, collars & leashes, grooming supplies, treats, toys & much more

Offering a large selection of USA made pet toys We are proud to carry Pawlee’s Dog Treats made locally in Kernersville, NC

*Saturday, July 5 *Tuesday, July 8 Friday, July 11 *Saturday, July 12 *Saturday, July 12 Thursday, July 17 Friday, July 18 *Saturday, July 19 *Tuesday, July 22 Thursday, July 23 Friday, July 25

Ruff Love Adoption Fair Dogs Anonymous Q & A Natures Logic Yappy Hours 4-6pm Pug Rescue Mobile Clinic Triad Golden Retriever Rescue Downtown City Market 5:30-9pm Natural Balance Yappy Hours 4-6pm Cat Adoption Fair Dogs Anonymous Q & A Pet Emergency Care Seminar 6pm Holistic select Yappy Hours 4-6pm

* See facebook page events tab for specific times.

www.facebook.com/AllPetsConsidered

ALL PETS CONSIDERED

2014 Winner Best in Customer Service 2614 Battleground Avenue | Greensboro 336.540.1400 | www.AllPetsConsidered.com

by The Retailer Excellence Awards given at the Annual Global Pet Expo in Orlando, Florida.


Doodad The Dogs of Summer Babe, Yogi and Lou Lou

Photograph by Dano Keeney

T

he players featured in the card sets of the Greensboro Grasshoppers change virtually every year, but two of the most popular players show up again season after season — Miss Babe Ruth and Master Yogi Berra, the team’s black Labrador retrievers. “People love these dogs,” says Donald Moore, team president and general manager. “I can’t tell you how many people over the years tell me, ‘The only reason I come out here is to watch these dogs.’” Born in October 2005, Babe attended her first spring training the following March. Babe came from Linwood O’Briant, a Winston-Salem breeder who trains hunting dogs. O’Briant tutored his young prospect over five months and taught her the art of delivering baseballs to umpires, retrieving bats left by players and running the bases. Babe made her Hoppers’ debut that August and quickly became a fan favorite. “Babe’s like clockwork; she does what she’s supposed to do,” Moore says proudly. “She’s made an error or two, but, after all, this is Class A baseball.” Inspired by Babe’s Ruthian success, Moore purchased her younger brother from O’Briant. Born in April 2008, Yogi became part of the Hoppers’ amusement staff the following season. Yogi gained fame early in his career. On April 23, 2009, after relieving himself on the field in front of a full house of fans, he became the first dog to be ejected by an umpire during a ballgame, landing him in Sports Illustrated. Though he has no interest in running bases or picking up bats, “Yogi is absolutely infatuated with retrieving baseballs,” Moore says. “So between innings, we shoot a baseball out of a cannon and he retrieves the ball and gives it to a kid standing there.” With the exception of a month of spring training with O’Briant each year, Babe and Yogi reside with Moore and his wife, Kim. And their lifesized, bronze likenesses grace the entrance of New Bridge Bank Park. “They’re just regular dogs at home,” Moore said. “Babe loves to fetch the newspaper in the morning, but they mostly lie around and sleep a lot.” With Babe getting along in years, Moore realized that an heir apparent was needed. Donald Moore Jr., the G.M.’s son, purchased Miss Lou Lou Gehrig from O’Briant. “Lou Lou’s a little more timid than Babe and Yogi,” Donald Sr. explained. “The crowd noise got to her, so she went back to extended spring training. She’s very good at fetching bats and running the bases, but she’s still a work in progress at taking balls to the umpire.” At least she doesn’t talk back to him. OH ­— Kevin Reid The Art & Soul of Greensboro

July 2014

O.Henry 15


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The City Muse

The Beer Man Cometh

E

Ajay Shah – just “A.J.” to his growing ranks of friends – is building Greensboro’s second wall of beer, one customer at a time

By Emily Frazier Brown

There’s a couple of things that can

Photograph by Laura gingerich

help a new business get started, thrive and become a staple in this city: friendly customer service, accessible parking — and an astounding selection of beer. Greensboro gets that, and we’re all better off for it.

You’ve doubtless noticed that even coffee shops like the Green Bean, Geeksboro Coffeehouse & Cinema and Tate Street Coffee have an ample selection of alcohol on their menus. The breakfast food juggernaut Iron Hen Café added a full bar when they did internal construction last year. Bestway Grocery expanded upon their panoramic wall of beer by adding a growler station to the back of their store. And Scuppernong Books has developed into a hybrid for those who can’t imagine tucking into a new novel without a libation of some sorts. I felt as if my list was complete already. I had what I wanted. And then I got the tip: There’s a very convenient convenience store that’s discovered craft beer. Word on the street was that this place went multiple steps beyond Fat Tire. “Maybe,” I thought. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Sitting at the junction of Wendover Avenue and Cridland Road is Latham Quick Mart, owned and operated by Ajay Shah, who very quickly becomes A.J. to regular customers — who then become friends. After emigrating from Gujarat, India, to New York in 1995, he came to Greensboro in 2001. Ajay’s wife, Shilpay, whom he met in Greensboro, had owned a small market for years before they got together. In fact, she’s been offering an excellent and eclectic selection of wines and beer at the popular College Mart on Tate Street for eighteen years. Ajay took over Latham Quick Mart in 2003 with the help of his colleague Nancy Landsberger, whom he proudly declares came with the store. What’s developing into a northern wall of beer got under way last September, not that convenience store faithfuls loyal to Budweiser and Smirnoff ice coolers will be disappointed. But those area hopheads who seek out IPAs, ESBs, all-malt lagers and sassy saissons will find a mini-wall of well-stocked shelves. “Why’d you do this?” I couldn’t help but ask, turning over a bottle of The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Duck Rabbit Milk Stout, noting the authoritative BeerAdvocate scores had been added to the price tag of each and every bottle. “It’s popular. People want good beer.” Ajay smiled, taking me on a guided tour. “I think it’s a big thing that’s going on, so why not?” Who could argue with that? “Do you like good beer?” He shrugs. “I drink some beer,” Ajay says, refuting the rumor that the builder of Greensboro’s mini-wall of beer is himself a total teetotaler. I probe, asking if the collection started with his favorites. “I just buy from a wholesaler,” he explains. “I only get beers that score above a 90,” he says of the BeerAdvocate scores, which are awarded on a 100-point scale. Dogfish Head’s 60 Minute IPA, Terrapin’s popular Rye Pale Ale and the West Coast IPA Ballast Point Sculpin are a few of the many rarities that I take in while splitting my attention between the extensive beverage collection and Ajay’s modest smirk. To him, learning customers’ names and learning who they are and what they like is much more important than becoming a walking encyclopedia of beer. “I’ll order whatever people want,” Ajay says of the wall. “People recommend their favorites for me to bring in regularly, and I make special orders for customers.” Ajay is occasionally interrupted by incoming customers purchasing cigarettes or sodas or lottery tickets. He knows many of them by name, and in some instances has a specific item waiting for them at the register by the time they reach the door, or gestures to me not to worry because he knows that they need time to browse or check a lottery card. “People don’t know about it yet,” Ajay chuckles. “They come in for something else, like a stick of gum, and are surprised to see it. They get excited. They make requests. And then they come back that weekend. It’s very good,” he says in a tone of voice that’s so totally winning. The business of building Greensboro’s second wall of beer is mostly in the hands of the customers as far as Ajay is concerned. He’ll continue adding shelf-by-shelf per recommendations and popular BeerAdvocate scores while learning each of our names along the way. OH Emily Frazier Brown is a resident of Greensboro who realized she had pretty embarrassing taste in beer while researching her February column, but Ajay is helping fix that. July 2014

O.Henry 17


Life’s Funny

Leap of Faith

By M aria Johnson

My dog has a problem with jumping.

He can’t. Well, OK, he can. But he won’t. Not into a car, anyway. I realize that if he jumped into cars easily, he might be living with someone else. I often wonder if other people saw him, back when he was a collection of fur and bones and infections, and tried to coax him into their cars, only to find out how immovable a big ol’ hound can be when he locks his long, straight legs. Gandhi might have learned the power of passive resistance from a hound. Good thing, then, that my younger son didn’t take no for an answer. He calmly got out of the car, picked up Rio on the side of the road that February night, and before I could say, “Be careful!,” chucked him into the car. Which was OK with Rio. He was asleep in minutes. He was our dog in seconds. But he had a thing about cars. He stressed and drooled every time we tried to get him in. It was easy to see why. Once moving, he tossed his kibble more times than not. Carsickness. We discovered that if we rolled down the back windows and let him hang his head out with ears aloft like The Flying Nun — then he could tolerate the ride. But he still wouldn’t jump in voluntarily. In the dog park, he sailed over fallen trees like a horse in a steeplechase. A friend taught him to spring onto a stump for a piece of cheese. He graduated from Cheese School with honors. But his passion for cheddar-based learning did not extend to my lift-gate car. Whenever it was time to go somewhere, I grabbed him by the harness and pulled him up to the bumper. He’d meet me halfway by putting his front paws on the bumper. I had to boost him in the rest of the way. My husband couldn’t even get him that close to the car. If you’ve been

18 O.Henry

July 2014

to Country Park and seen a guy lumbering to the car with a hound whose legs almost dangle to the ground, that’s Jeff headed to the car with Rio. The dog is ruint, as my Kentucky friends might say. Which makes us the ruint-ers, we realize. That, coupled with the fact that our backs are not getting any younger, and Rio is not getting any lighter, underlined that we could use some help. Professional help. A friend suggested Jan Wilson, who owns Dog-Gone Fun, a boarding and training facility in Kernersville. A certified trainer, Jan has been working with dogs for thirty years. She knows her way around a pooch. She asked a few questions on the phone. Was it physically possible for Rio to jump? Did he have hip problems? Had I seen him jump that high before? Yes. No. Yes. “We have to change his emotional response to cars. It might not be easy. But we can try. Bring him over.” Drag, drag, heave, heave, drive, drive. Soon, we were at Dog-Gone Fun in a warehouse district hard by the railroad tracks. We went in and met Jan, who grabbed a handful of treats. She teaches by reward, which to a dog means food. We walked to the car and popped the hatch. “Show me what you do,” said Jan. Drag-drag, boost-boost. This is how, umph, I put him, errg, in the car. She invited him to jump out, which was easy. Lippity. That’s the wonderful word Beatrix Potter used to describe a bunny hopping in The Tale of Peter Rabbit. She held out a treat and let Rio sniff. He opened his mouth. She tossed the treat in the back of the car. Rio admired it — from afar. “We need a high-value treat,” Jan said. She disappeared and returned with the gold standard of dog incentives: Gwaltney turkey hot dog. She tore off a bite and showed it to Rio. He perked up. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

PHOTOGRAPH BY Sam Froelich

One hound dog, one hot dog, one jump at a time


Life’s Funny She tossed it into the car. He stared. She let him sniff and lobbed it into the car. This time, he jumped, but his back legs hung up on the bumper. Jan boosted him up, praised him, and gave him the treat. “Let’s give him a running start,” Jan said. She took his leash, backed off a few steps and started for the car. Jog, jog, EEEERRRRK. That’s the sound of Rio’s brakes screeching. They tried again. Jog, jog, EEEERRRRK. If a small monkey had been riding on Rio’s back, he’d have been thrown. They tried again. On the third try, he arose. You’d have thought he won the Westminster dog show. We lavished him with praise. We clapped. We fed. We petted. He must have felt it was a good enough effort for one day because he refused to jump the next fifteen times we tried it. Like a school kid whose eyes glazed over, he’d lost interest. Jan sent us home with advice and homework. Practice in a relaxed setting. Try it in the driveway when you’re not going anywhere. Don’t overload him. Try it ten or fifteen times. Make the desired behavior as rewarding as possible. Use a special treat that he gets only when he jumps in the car. Make the undesired behavior as unrewarding as possible. If that means heaving him into the car with a tweak, do it. Pretty soon, he’ll decide he’d rather jump himself. In other words, use a little stick and a lot of carrot. Don’t leave out one or the other. It’s a balancing act. The main thing is repetition. With enough practice, most dogs — even old dogs — can learn new tricks. Jan said some breeds like Goody-Two-Shoes border collies (my description, not hers) can learn a new behavior in three or four tries. The average dog takes ten to fifteen tries. And a hound? “Well,” she said, “hounds are self-serving.” “Yeahhhhh,” I said. “They don’t care as much about pleasing people,” she said. “Riiiight,” I said. “They’re pretty stubborn,” she said. “Uh-huh. How many times?” I said. “Thirty or forty,” she said. OK, once I moved a belt rack from one side of my closet door to the other, and let’s just say I was in the invertebrate category when it came to learning to reach to one side of the door and The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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not the other. Thirty or forty tries didn’t sound so bad to me. And remember, said Jan, progress is almost never linear. But at the end of the day, two steps forward and one step back equals forward movement. As someone who finds herself sometimes in the role of teacher — and more often in the role of learner — I found all of this strangely reassuring. “This is a lot like dealing with people, isn’t it?” I asked Jan. “There’s a fine line,” she said. And then she petted my head. Not really. But that would have been OK. I like hot dogs. Rio and I packed up and headed home. We’ve been practicing with mixed success. He hasn’t repeated his clean jump yet, but he’s trying. And me? I’ve gotten way better at vaulting into the car with a running start. If I can just teach him how to drive, we’ll be in business. OH Unlike Rio, Maria Johnson prefers her hot dogs cooked, with chili, slaw and heavy mustard. To get her take-out order, email her at maria@ ohenrymag.com.

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July 2014

O.Henry 19


The Omnivorous Reader

True South

In her lyrical growing up in Georgia, the acclaimed author of Under the Tuscan Sun brings a vanishing South to life

By Stephen E. Smith

When I happen

upon a beautifully written paragraph in a book I intend to review, I circle it. If I discover a word that’s cleverly employed, I underline it. I dog-ear pages that illuminate the writer’s thematic intent. I scatter asterisks, question marks, parentheses, brackets and exclamation points throughout the text, and I make notations in the margins in handwriting that’s instantly indecipherable.

My copy of Frances Mayes’ memoir Under Magnolia is almost unreadable. She writes such exquisite prose that hardly a page has escaped defacement. I want to believe that Mayes is a natural-born stylist, but I suspect her prose, like that of most accomplished authors, has been scrutinized with a writer’s loupe in order to eliminate that worked-on feeling. Discerning readers, those who appreciate the art of prose description, are likely to be reminded of E.B. White, John McPhee and Frank McCourt. Mayes achieved literary celebrity status for her Under the Tuscan Sun, a charming, back-to-basics memoir detailing her recovery from divorce, the restoration of a Tuscan farmhouse and her immersion in a foreign culture. The best-seller inspired a 2003 feature film, and Mayes followed her first international success with Bella Tuscany, In Tuscany and a pile of related books, including a Tuscan cookbook. For her latest memoir, Mayes has returned to the South of her youth, recording in astonishing detail her coming of age in the little town of Fitzgerald, Georgia, “where you can recognize a family gene pool by the lift of an eyebrow, or the length of the neck . . . .” Her affluent parents, trapped in a debilitat-

20 O.Henry

July 2014

ing marriage, bicker and argue constantly, forcing the adolescent Frances, the youngest of three daughters, into an introspective state that sensitizes her to every nuance of the world that’s blooming around her. So Under Magnolia is, first and foremost, about growing up in the South. You’re likely asking yourself: Hasn’t this subject been done to death? After all, it’s difficult to think of a Southern writer who hasn’t written at length in memoir, fiction or poetry about the joys and misfortunes of his or her childhood. Alcoholic parents, crazy aunts, bigoted neighbors, doting nannies, quirky acquaintances and benighted ancestors — they all appear in Mayes’ memoir — are the stuff of Southern literature. From Twain to Wolfe to Conroy, the bookshelves are bulging with masterfully written and thinly disguised autobiographic fare. What sets Under Magnolia apart? It’s Mayes’ clarity of vision and her use of images that evoke a commonality of experience with the reader — as with this concise description of her parents’ anniversary party: “FRANKYE AND GARBERT — A MATCH FOR 20 YEARS was printed in gold on the white matchbooks their friend Marteel gave them for their anniversary. I was seven and it might have been the first little double entendre I got. Ha! The matchbooks suggested many guests at a celebration, all smoking, dressed up, leaning to light one another’s Camels, the flaring lights isolating happy faces, the yard decorated with lanterns and the table set with my mother’s favorite Country Captain Chicken, tomato aspic, green beans with tarragon. My father in a white suit toasting his bride of twenty impeccable years. But I don’t really remember a party.” In one paragraph, Mayes précis her parents’ life together. In imagination and memory, the guests, dressed in their party-going best, are smoking cigarettes and sipping cocktails. The lawn tables are set with Southern delicacies. Within the scene there’s the obvious irony of celebrating “impeccable years” together, the irony apparent to the young girl who commits the moment to memory and later to paper, offering up the sad incongruities of The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Reader her parents’ lives framed in a celebratory occasion more sorrowful than a funeral. And there’s also a sense of looking back, not as an adult but as a child who can imagine the future and the regret it will surely bring. Mayes balances these human moments with gentle critiques of those Southern institutions that formed and guided her into late adolescence. She attends Randolph-Macon Women’s College and is caught up in the blur of dating and the changing mores of the early ’60s: “As soon as The Pill hit, R-M [Randolph-Macon], as it reigned, was lost. The truly revolutionary consequence of women having control over their own bodies kicked those date parlor doors closed, ripped up those destination slips, put those ladies in Charlottesville with their white toast, teapots, and emery-board towels out of business forever.” Politics, race and social turmoil are, of course, an essential part of the Southern story. Frances is raised by a sympathetic nanny, and her grandfather blames the Kennedys, Jack and his “upstart fool” brother, for “nigras getting these big ideas. . . .” As “The Great Pretender,” “Only the Lonely” and the theme from A Summer Place blare from the stereo, Mayes notices that half the freshman class has moved on because “the sense that an active world zoomed by the gates of the redbrick wall became too strong.” She transfers to the University of Florida, stows away bottled water during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and meets beaus who might be marriage material. Frankye suffers a stroke and is confined to a nursing home, and Mayes arrives at a reconciliation with a troubled mother who had offered little more than constant beratings — and she gets on with her life, eventually writing best-sellers and settling near Hillsborough, North Carolina. Readers who are accustomed to plot-driven narratives are likely to get lost in the beautiful verbiage of Under Magnolia. But Mayes’ lyric touch — all those pages I defaced — make for compelling reading: “Because the land once soaked in blood remembers, we do, too,” Mayes writes at the end of her memoir. “And there’s a shared bond, too, of coming out of a place of unpredictable weather and terrain, a sun strong enough to melt your bones, a place where the second coming is still expected, where the night creatures sing the most soulful music that can be imagined.” We’ve all been there. Mayes makes us happy to go back. OH

Tom Chitty & Associates

Stephen E. Smith’s most recent book of poems is A Short Report on the Fire at Woolworths. He can be reached at travisses@hotmail.com

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O.Henry 21


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Bookshelf

Gone to the Dog Days Scuppernog Book reviews for July

By Brian Lampkin

“I wish I had more upbeat news to share, but

unfortunately these are bleak days for wild red wolves.” Those are the words of T. Delene Beeland — who calls red wolves “the southeastern dogs of the woods” — in a letter she sent me when I asked her to update her gripping 2013 book The Secret World of Red Wolves: The Fight to Save North America’s Other Wolf (UNC Press, $28). Beeland continues: “Unfortunately, the trend of wolves being shot illegally remains unchanged. In 2013, nine red wolves died from gunshot wounds . . . So far, 2014 has seen two more red wolves die by gunshot. For a population of ninety or so animals, this poaching is akin to a slow death by a thousand slices.”

Red wolves are North Carolina’s unique responsibility. The forested and swampy Albemarle Peninsula in northeastern North Carolina is home to one of the world’s most endangered creatures, and Beeland’s book is by far the most detailed and well-researched account of their struggle to survive. A captive breeding program brought them back from extinction before they were reintroduced into their historic range in our state in the 1980s. But Beeland knows that humans are equally capable of exterminating the red wolves: One thing that has changed is the State of North Carolina enacted night hunting of coyotes within the five-county red wolf recovery area in the state’s northeastern coast . . . . Because coyotes are visually similar to red wolves, many red wolf advocates believe the state’s hunting regulation places good-intentioned hunters in the unenviable position of shooting federally-listed red wolves by mistake. [Editor’s Note: In May, U.S. District Judge Terrence Boyle ruled that the state was in violation of the Endangered Species Act and ordered a stop to coyote hunting in the five northeastern North Carolina counties that make up red wolf territory.] Another thing that has changed is my belief that the Fish and Wildlife Service

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

truly supports red wolf recovery. While I still believe that the program’s field biologists who work within the Red Wolf Recovery Program are committed to saving this southeastern dog of the woods, I have lost faith that personnel at higher levels in the FWS Southeastern Regional Office share this commitment. The ongoing poaching, which is flagrantly illegal, has devastated red wolf breeding pairs to the point that there are now only between seven and nine. (This is down from a high of twenty one in 2003, and fifteen when I first began writing the book in 2009.) The decimation of breeding pairs isn’t just about numbers, it also signifies an unravelling of the red wolf’s social fabric, which has contributed to an increase in the number of coyotes in the area — there may now be as many as two or three coyotes for every red wolf. Because red wolves and coyotes will interbreed under certain circumstances, these are grim times indeed. Things are much bleaker today, biologically and politically, than the years when I was writing the book; and I had thought things seemed downtrodden then. At times, I’ve wondered if the FWS Southeast Regional Office isn’t tacitly letting the poaching continue so that they can claim the program is failing and therefore not support it any longer. It would be a subversive and cynical play, but I wouldn’t put it past a bevy of bureaucrats to do just that. I still hold hope that red wolves will be conserved into the future, in their wild habitat. But their future in the wild is far from certain, and it feels more vulnerable day by day. Strong words. And an example of the love and commitment Beeland brings to her work. The Secret World of Red Wolves is an important book and perhaps the last best chance to save our wolves. Beeland has written a Silent Spring for red wolves. Let’s hope it has the same impact as Rachel Carson’s life-changing work. On a more upbeat note, the Scuppernong Books staff reminds us of a few “dog books” that have made a difference in their own lives. In The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (Vintage, 2003, $14.95), Mark Haddon writes, “I like dogs. You always know what a dog is thinking. It has four moods. Happy, sad, cross and concentrating. Also, dogs are faithful and they do not tell lies because they cannot talk.” Haddon’s novel is a powerful story about a 15-year-old boy with “behavioral difficulties” investigating the death of a neighborhood dog. More than that, it raises important questions about what it means to be different and about the importance of actively looking rather than simply seeing. (Brian Etling) My children loved William Steig’s picture books when they were younger for his jittery line drawing and his droll sense of humor. Later, they rediscovJuly 2014

O.Henry 23


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24 O.Henry

July 2014

ered him as a New Yorker cartoonist. In Caleb and Kate (Square Fish, 1986, $7.99), Caleb storms off after an argument with his wife, Kate, and is promptly turned into a dog by a passing witch (It’s not a curse or anything. She’s just trying out a new spell.) Caleb makes his way back home where he’s taken in by the wife, grieving the disappearance of her husband. Caleb and Kate is a story about loss and hope. And absentminded witches. (Steve Mitchell) Love That Dog by Sharon Creech (Joanna Cotler Books, 2001, $5.99) is both a novel and poem in the vein of valiant epics like Homer’s The Odyssey, but the battle being waged is between a young boy named Jack and his aversion to writing. Jack starts by saying that only girls write poetry, that he doesn’t understand why poems are important or how they are effective at getting whole ideas across, until he begins to write about his dog Sky. It is Sky who eventually (with the persistence of his teacher) allows Jack to fully develop his voice as a poet. A very quick and thoughtful book for folks of any age. (Kira Larson) Author Jennifer Holland’s Unlikely Friendships: 47 Remarkable Stories from the Animal Kingdom (Workman Publishing, 2011, $13.95) chose me. By nature I am a skeptic, and am allergic to any hint of sentimentality. Yet, my 11-year-old-son saw this on the shelf and began reading it to me. In the book, Holland — a science and nature journalist and senior writer for National Geographic magazine — documents heartwarming tales of animals who, with nothing else in common, befriend each other in unexpected ways. A cat and a bird. A mare and a fawn. An elephant and a sheep. A snake and a hamster. My favorite story is “The Bobtailed Dog and the Bobtailed Cat,” which tells of a friendship that was born in New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina. The bobtailed dog had been left tied up to face the storm, but managed to break away. Somehow, she hooked up with a bobtailed cat, and they wandered the city together for weeks. OK, maybe I am softhearted — as you guessed, I do cry during movies. (Gregory Grieve) In coming months, you can look forward to some great dog books. For instance, in November, the joy of photographer Lara Jo Regan’s Dogs In Car Windows (Countryman Press, $19.95) will hit bookstores. The images are irresistible and full of a dog’s love for life. Another forthcoming (September 2014) dog book sure to bring joy to the world is Workman Publishing’s Really Important Stuff My Dog Has Taught Me, by Cynthia Copeland ($12.95). The simple pleasures of a dog’s life are again caught by camera as Copeland pairs an irresistible photograph with just the right sentiment: “Every page delivers a life lesson that The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Bookshelf appeals as much to our hearts as our minds. It reminds us again and again of what’s important, like love: Be there when others need you. Compassion: Even the smallest act of kindness matters. Perseverance: Keep going until you find your way home. A healthy sense of self: Make it squeak until someone pays attention. Living in the present moment: Scratch where it itches, when it itches. And that happiness is a choice: Leap higher than you have to.” _______________ THE DAMAGE DOGS DO . . . TO BOOKS Books and dogs have had an uneasy history. Dogs do not value reading material the same way humans do. And we teach them from an early age to pee on the written word (no matter what we may think of the current state of journalism, the demise of the daily newspaper has left many a puppy without papers and much yellow journalism uncommented upon). Most of us have horror stories about the damage dogs have done to books. The Scuppernong staff offers a few of their own: My adult daughter brought her new dog home for the first time earlier this year. She was nervous because this was a rescue dog that had snapped at me when I first visited her house, so she wanted to show me how far Bentley had come under her care. I was dubious, but Bentley trotted in and greeted me warmly, then trotted over to my bookshelf and lifted his leg on the bottom row. Charles Olson’s The Maximus Poems will never smell the same and Bentley and I continue to treat each other warily, perhaps competing for the undivided affection of said daughter. He loves her more simply than I do, but I love her despite the complexities Bentley has brought upon us. –Brian Lampkin In the midst of an existential crisis, my golden retriever Ben chewed out most of the section on Schopenhauer from my copy of Alain de Botton’s The Consolations of Philosophy; which isn’t a big deal since existence is meaningless, anyway. –Brian Etling I still own my copy of Selected Poems of Rilke, translated by Robert Bly. I bought it in 1981 and our dog promptly chewed much of the front cover, a large corner of the back and a bit of the spine. Rilke still peers out from that tattered cover, perhaps a bit chagrined. I’ve kept the book, of course, because the poems inside are ravishing, mysterious, and moving. The dog had good taste. –Steve Mitchell Once my cat threw up on a copy of Society of the Spectacle, but I don’t know if that counts for the side bar. –Kira Larson (It counts, Kira, because we’ve all been tempted to throw up on Debord’s Spectacle!) OH The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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July 2014

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By Sandra Redding

You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence . . . with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism. — Erma Bombeck

College, Bayes created a writing program that nurtured poets. Yet his writing, ignoring magnolias and other Southern fixtures, never acquired Southern sensibility. Instead, his brilliant verses sparkle with satire and universal truth. The Casketmaker is a compilation of his finest poems. • Jaki Shelton Green. This Durham creativity coach teaches and reads throughout the United States, South America and Europe. Some of the poems from her seven books of verse have been choreographed. Look for poems about both Martin Luther King and Senator Jesse Helms in Conjure Blues. • Shelby Stephenson. Former revered teacher and editor of Pembroke Magazine at the University of North Carolina at Pembroke, this seven-time author packs his lyrics with pathos and humor. In music and verse, he praises his forebears and honors Benson, the hometown he never left. His latest collection, The Hunger of Freedom, was published this year.

Poetry is a verbal means to a nonverbal source. It is a motion to no motion, to the still point of deep realization. — A.R. Ammons

Summer Events

July 10–13 (Thursday through Sunday) Campus of William Peace University, Raleigh. Sign up for one of three workshops at the Squire Summer Writing Residency taught by top-notch instructors: (left) Scott Huler, Randall Kenan and Shelby Stephenson. www.ncwriters.org

July 25–26 (Friday and Saturday) Clarion Inn, Fletcher. The North Carolina Writers Conference was once likened to a Capistrano of swallows by Greensboro writer/historian Hal Sieber. A few years after the first meeting (1950), Southern Pines poet and editor Sam Ragan became the group’s guiding light. Members and guests still gather annually to catch up, celebrate. During Saturday’s banquet, Kathryn Stripling Byer, former N.C. Poet Laureate, will be honored. perrythechief@gmail.com July 29 (Tuesday, 5:30 p.m.) Letters Bookshop, Durham. Ruth Moose, popular Pittsboro poet and teacher, will read and sign her first mystery novel, Doing It at the Dixie Dew. In this amusing who-done-it, bed and breakfast owner Beth McKenzie and a rabbit named Robert Redford search for a killer. www.RuthMoose.com

We are all of us stars, and we deserve to twinkle. — Marilyn Monroe Four stellar poets will be inducted into the 2014 North Carolina Literary Hall of Fame on October 12 (Sunday, 2 p.m.) at Weymouth Center for Arts & Humanity in Southern Pines: • Betty Adcock. Texas born, she has lived all her writing life in North Carolina. A natural — no degrees but plenty of smarts — she’s written six books and has read her verses at over 100 colleges and universities. A Guggenheim fellow in 2002, her lyrics are intricate as lace. • Ronald Bayes. A beloved former writer-in-residence at St. Andrews The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Before his death in 2001, A.R. Ammons published nearly thirty collections of poetry, many of them about his family and boyhood home. This Columbus County native was awarded fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation, the MacArthur Foundation, and the American Academy of Arts and Letters. In his honor, Southeastern Community College of Columbus County has established an A.R. Ammons Scholarship to reward “a student who embraces the written word.” www.sccnc.edu/Home/ ARAmmonsLiteracyScholarship

All writers speak from, and speak to, emotions eternally the same in all of us. — Eudora Welty Released in May, The Only Sounds We Make, by Greensboro writer Lee Zacharias, contains thirteen essays grounded in reason, resonating with emotion. One, “Geography for Writers,” explores the various spaces where she and other notable writers, from Eudora Welty to Jill McCorkle, have found the words they need to write. In “Morning Light,” Zacharias uses her photography skills to pinpoint the value of capturing color and light. A strong sense of place, a sensibility that forgives the fragility of human nature and an enduring connection to a changing world make this a book worth reading and remembering. Bookstores and organizations, if you have a major event, let us know. Writers, if you have published a book in 2014, we want to hear about it. OH Greensboro writer Sandra Redding’s novel, Naomi Wise: A Cautionary Tale, is a riveting story about heartbreak and hope in a Quaker community. Email her at sanredd@earthlink.net. July 2014

O.Henry 27


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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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Vacation Bible School and a Mad Dog By Woodson E. Faulkner II

Through the open church doors

the organ and piano chords blared, “PAAA — pa-pa-paPA-PA-PA-PA,” and we began to sing, “God of our fa-thers, whose almighty hand . . . Pa-Pa-Pa-Pa-Pa!” As we sang, we processed in with a select group of Royal Ambassadors who carried forth the Christian flag alongside Old Glory, accompanied by the preacher. Thus began each morning assembly of Vacation Bible School at my little country Baptist church in southern Vance County. After a few words from Scripture and a brief morning meditation, we would leave the sanctuary and go to our activity classes for the day. I was in the 9-year-old group. My sister Terry went with the 6-year-olds.

“Za-chae-us was — a wee little man and a wee little man was he . . .” sang my group when we reached our classroom. I identified with Zachaeus of old. Being of slight build and sort of short myself, I wondered if little Zach ever had to go to Vacation Bible School after he got down out of that tree. We got to make Popsicle stick baskets and trace our handprints on paper plates. It was a good, community-sanctioned, “Christian” way to keep the children from our small farming district busy between planting tobacco and pulling suckers. VBS week took place during the hottest part of June — without air conditioning. So we just fanned ourselves with praying Jesus fans or the ones with local funerary service ads on them. The message was clear: Pray to Jesus that you don’t go to hell — or to the funeral home advertised on the fan anytime soon. Each morning at 8:30, our second cousins just down the road about a football field away (everyone who lived on our road was kin to some degree or another), would pull up in their big brown-and-white, two-toned 1961 Ford Galaxie 500 (you know, the one with the round rocketship taillights) to give us a ride to VBS. They’d honk the horn and we’d scramble out the back door, dodging the old bird dog as we went. The dog was always at the back door trying to capitalize on any leftover breakfast bits. His name was Blue. He wasn’t a bad sort of dog but had become a bit mangy with age and was not very good at birding. Instead, he liked to tree a “coon” and bark at it until someone came out to deal with the critter. So there we were, my little sister and I, waiting that Wednesday morning for the loud horn of judgment. Sure enough, 8:30 came and two sharp toots on the horn sounded. Then, BWA-BWA-BWA-BWAAAAA. “What on earth is the matter with them?” my mother asked. “You’d think Jesus was coming today.” We

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

looked out the window and saw my cousin Denise running around and around the car yelling, “MAD DOG, MAD DOG!!” Well sure ’nuff, the old dog was lumbering around after her, jostling left, then right, then standing stock still looking really pissed off with a mouth full of foam. “Oh hell,” my father exclaimed! “Well shit,” said my mother, who never cursed. “Lemme git my rifle,” my father said. “Be careful,” my mother shouted to him as she bade my sister and me to sit down at the table and be quiet, as we had been loudly squawking with both horror and delight. As my father got to the back door, my cousin rushed in to take his place — hoping he would take hers. “That dog has done gone under the wash house!” she said. The wash house was an original farm structure that was now part of an enlarged homemade garage and tool shed that took up considerable square footage under a giant white poplar tree. What it had to do with washing is still a mystery to me. This meant that my father had to go out into the unlighted wash house and flush out old Blue, a scene that my little sister and I could only imagine with the horror of a Vincent Price movie. “What on earth is happening?” we asked. My mother sat us down and told us to “haish up. You all should be prayin’ that nobody gets hurt.” “Does that include old Blue?” we asked. “Just sit still,” she answered. Well, in about five minutes we heard a loud CRACK! — followed by two more reports of the same. “Oh Lord!” my mother said with both shock and relief in her voice, “Yo daddy’s done shot the dog. I guess Blue got rabies . . . well shit.” My father came back into the house and reported that it was safe to go outside now and get on to VBS before we were any more late. So we children got up shakily from the table and proceeded somberly outside to the waiting big Ford car. My sister, cousin and I still looked around carefully as we walked to the car just to make sure that the ghost of old Blue wouldn’t come charging out from under the shed after us. We sat in stunned silence all the way to church thinking about how terrible it must have been for our father to have to shoot our pet bird dog, and the fact that we would no longer see Ol’ Blue hanging around the back door begging for food, or rousing us to arms every time an intruding critter came on the property. He had gone to doggy heaven. At VBS we didn’t speak of the traumatic scene that we had just witnessed that day, or in the days that followed. We just marched into the church as usual singing “God of Our Fathers, Whose Almighty Hand,” which took on extra special meaning that day. OH Woodson E. Faulkner II lives in Fisher Park and is the choir director and organist at Wake Forest Baptist Church in Winston-Salem, assistant director of the Burlington Boys Choir and president of the Greensboro Opera. July 2014

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30 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


The Evolving Species

For Love of a Carolina Dog

This rare – some say mythic – breed traces its roots to an ancient human-canine bond By Nancy Oakley

Mention the words “Carolina

dog,” and most people will think you’re either referring to ballpark franks slathered with chili, slaw and onions, or rangy mutts ( aka, dawgs) that have a propensity for languishing on porches on long, hot summer days. As it happens, the latter perception is more accurate than you’d think. Carolina dogs, historically referred to as “yaller” dogs in the Southeast, where they are so very common, are likely a link to North America’s earliest canines, having, in theory, come across the Bering Land Bridge more than 8,000 years ago.

The dogs caught the eye of I. Lehr Brisbin, Jr. , a Ph.D. biologist and professor emeritus at the University of Georgia. In the 1970s, Brisbin was working full-time in Aiken, South Carolina, at UGA’s Savannah River Ecology Lab (SREL), part of the Savannah River Site — known by locals not so affectionatly as “The Bomb Plant.” There he was studying, among other things, whether radiation from the site’s original purpose as a nuclear reservation and producer of plutonium and tritium for H-bombs had affected the food chain. “I used pit bulls in my work,” he says. Domestication of animals had become an area of interest for Brisbin, who had also studied red junglefowl, a forebear to modern chickens, and he was The Art & Soul of Greensboro

entertaining the idea of importing Australian dingoes to see “how trainable they were.” (He would later learn importing them is prohibited by law.) Periodically, Brisbin had noticed feral or “yaller” dogs roaming and scavenging in the woodsy, swampy area around the plant. In fact, the label “Carolina dogs” seems to have come from Brisbin, who began acquiring the feral dogs from the wild and from shelters in South Carolina and Georgia. They tended to be wary of humans and hunted in packs, flushing small animals and reptiles, wagging their curled tails as signals to one another that prey was within reach. A dog lover since childhood and active in the American Kennel Club, Brisbin began adding the dogs to his kennels of show dogs at his home in Aiken. When he let them out for a run one day and took another look at his most recent acquisition, Brisbin had a revelation about the dog and those he had seen wandering around the plant area: “They looked like dingoes.” Which is to say, lean, medium in build, having pointed noses and straight pointed ears, along with almond-shaped eyes. Their short fur is often buff to reddish in color, like dingoes, though they’re sometimes piebald. And they have those distinctive tails that curl up. But dingoes resided halfway around the world. How is it that a dog so similar looking came out of the Carolinas wetlands? Brisbin’s curiosity led him down yet another path of research. He began collecting more of these stray dogs and observed some peculiar behavioral traits among them. Females would go into heat in quick succession, during spring and summer. Was this a way of ensuring the survival of the breed and getting a jump on diseases, such as heartworm? Many of the pregnant dogs would dig underground dens for giving birth — as opposed to crawling under an enclosure or a bush — and had the curious habit of using their noses to push dirt over their own feces. But perhaps most peculiar to Brisbin’s eye was the dogs’ tendency of digging what he calls “snout pits,” small holes in the ground about the same size as the dogs’ muzzles. They appeared to be July 2014

O.Henry 31


The Evolving Species

eating the dirt itself, perhaps for its mineral content. The other similarity between dingoes and Carolina dogs is their status as pariah dogs, meaning, they tend to congregate on the edges of human societies and encampments. In fact, early European explorers’ written accounts and drawings of Indian settlements sometimes feature dogs resembling Carolina dogs. “They survived by following people,” Brisbin explains. “It was good to be near them, because there were good things to eat.” He hypothesizes that Carolina dogs accompanied early human settlers across the Bering Land Bridge thousands of years ago after studying the mitochondrial DNA in present-day dogs. As it turns out, Carolina dogs fall at the base of the canine genealogical tree, as do dingoes and New Guinea singing dogs, suggesting that they are primitive. In other words, they may well be the descendants of dogs that likely originated in the Middle East and followed humans through Africa, to Java, Australia, New Guinea to the South Pacific and onward into Korea, Japan, Siberia, and finally into North and South America. Brisbin cites chows, which originated in northern China, as having a “common ancestry” with Carolina dogs. “Chows are a sister breed. They have black tongues. A lot of Carolina dogs have black spots on their tongues,” he notes. Giving further boost to Brisbin’s Bering Land Bridge hypothesis is a 2013 study led by Peter Savolainen at the Royal Institute of Technology in Sweden. It revealed Carolina dogs, as well as other American breeds, such as Chihuahuas, lack some of the genetic markers found in European dogs, suggesting they may indeed have found their way to these parts from Asia. Today, Carolina dogs are “spread out across the United States,” says Brisbin. “There are pockets of them in Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi and Louisiana. “They’re showing up in Arizona and New Mexico near Indian Reservations.” Given Carolina dogs’ innate skittishness around people, they are also appearing

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in other remote areas, such as Army bases and poor areas characterized by undeveloped farmland such as Lee County, South Carolina. “There are almost none in urban centers,” Brisbin observes. So don’t expect to see a Carolina dog roaming down Elm Street in downtown Greensboro, unless, of course, someone has acquired it as a pet. Formally recognized by the United Kennel Club and American Rare Breed Association, thanks to Brisbin’s efforts, Carolina dogs are becoming more popular. Their bond with people is a mixed bag, given the dogs’ natural shyness. “Most of them just cower, as if to say, ‘Oh God! You’re going to pet me! Let’s get it over with,’” says Brisbin, adding that the dogs will bite only out of fear — if they are cornered or trapped — not out of aggression. “Others will jump into your lap and watch TV,” he says. “The variability is so great across breeds.” One thing’s for sure, he says: “If you ask somebody about their Carolina dog, they’ll tell you how wonderful it is.” Brisbin is concerned, however, that overenthusiasm for Carolina dogs could endanger their very existence. “They are a legacy, and I’m interested in propagating them,” he explains, adding that he will give away a Carolina dog from his own kennel only to potential owners who are like-minded. “They can’t neuter it. So many nice dogs are neutered. DNA is lost.” And yet, he takes a different view of coyotes that have been creeping into the wilderness areas in places such as South Carolina. What if they were to hybridize the breed? “I would love it!” asserts Brisbin. “The coyote is a wonderful, resourceful animal. Part of being a Carolina dog is living among coyotes.” And as far as the coyotes are concerned, what could be finer than to live among dogs from Carolina? OH Nancy Oakley first learned of Carolina dogs through Jamie, her family’s Carolina dog/ terrier mix. Far from skittish, he’s the sort to curl up and listen to NPR with his owners.

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34 O.Henry

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


The Pooch Beat

Weather Man 2 the Rescue For WFMY–TV’s popular Ed Matthews, finding home for lost dogs is all in a day’s work – and a matter of the heart

By David Claude Bailey

Make no mistake.

Photograph by Hannah Sharpe

Rio is walking Ed Matthews, not the other way around. The 8-year-old silky terrier’s little paws are a blur under a glistening, silky sheen of tan and gray. And through that wiry clump of eyebrows, Rio clearly has her eyes on the prize as she pulls the man who has been predicting Greensboro’s weather for twenty-six years down McGee. “She wants to get ahead of Daddy,” says Matthews. “She loves College Hill.” And Ed Matthews loves Rio. “I pay the mortgage and she lets me live here,” he says of the condominium he shares with her across from the downtown Y. “Nobody relates to animals like Ed does,” says Brenda M. Overman, president of the SPCA of the Triad. “They know he’s a lover of animals and has his heart in it.” As in 2 The Rescue, the wildly popular series Matthews hosts with Tracey McCain on WFMY-TV’s Channel 2. (Tracey, by the way, has a rescue cat, Marble: “It’s a perfect name,” she says, “since she’s a black kitten with just hints of white on her belly and loves to roll around.”) How did the self-proclaimed weather geek from Sanford become Greensboro’s most celebrated champion of orphaned animals? “I grew up as a country boy,” the now dapper Matthews explains as Rio sniffs the azaleas in front of the Wafco Mills condos. His grandparents had a tobacco farm on the outskirts of Sanford. “People would just come by the farm and dump animals.” Though it was not called that back then, Matthews’ grandparents rescued countless pets: Snoopy, a Pekingese; Chili Bean, a Chihuahua; and Penny, another Chihuahua. Matthews helped out on the farm, doing backbreaking work. But the most valuable thing he developed was a love for animals. “We had birds nesting and our share of deer, and pigs and the chickens, of course.” He would have been just another typical farm boy but for his hobby. At the age of 8, “I had weather maps so when my mom came in she could always just look at the wall and see what the weather was gonna be for the day,” he says. “I remember watching Lee Kinard [WFMY] and Frank Deal [WGHP] every night here in the Triad.” He’d then consult the newspapers and make a forecast, “and Mom would say, ‘Oh, your forecast is always right,’ and I’d say, ‘Mom, you’re just being sweet.’” Matthews went to N.C. State to study meteorology with the idea of working The Art & Soul of Greensboro

for the U.S. Navy or National Weather Service. He quickly discovered why meteorology is also called atmospheric sciences: “I never knew how much math and science were involved,” he says. A defining moment came when, as a lefty with terrible handwriting, he decided to type out an application for an internship at Raleigh’s legendary WRAL-TV. After he got the internship, Matthews asked chief meteorologist Greg Fishel why he’d been chosen. Fishel said it came down to two candidates with equal qualifications. When they looked at Matthews’ applications and saw it was typed, it tipped the scales. “That changed my life!” he says. In 1985, he got his first job in Wilmington at Channel 3, WWAY. It was in Wilmington that Matthews fell in love with a silky that didn’t get along with a pre-existing dog. “I named her Reflex because I thought that was a cool and unusual name and she was hyper,” he says. Longtime Channel 2 viewers will remember Matthews doing a segment on Reflex having her puppies at the station, one of which, Polo, he kept. When Polo died in 2005 at 17, Matthews decided he wasn’t ready for another dog — until friends spotted a silky. The dog belonged to a mother who was worried the dog might be a threat to her newborn, but after seeing a picture of the dog, Matthews decided it didn’t look enough like Polo — until a friend talked him into seeing the dog. “So I went up there, and she jumped in my lap and we played and acted like we knew each other for years and years.” About the same time, Matthews began to volunteer at the Guilford County Animal Shelter. “I could see how many animals needed homes,” he says, so he asked the station if he couldn’t feature some of them on air. The rest, as they say, is history. Since the first program aired in 2009, more than 900 pets have been rescued by viewers. Matthews and McCain hope to top the thousand mark by their next big 2 The Rescue in October. Matthews, 55, is a self-admitted perfectionist. “In the back of my mind, if I say it’s going to be 75 degrees and it’s 76, I don’t think I’m gonna have a stampede of people to come and stone me, but that’s just the way I am.” Rio brings a little perspective into the picture: “I can be all caught up in the stress of everyday life and come home and Rio’s here and says, ‘Hey Daddy, let’s play. There’s nothing to worry about. Life is good. Loosen up a little.’” It doesn’t worry Matthews that Greensboro is not a major metropolitan market: “I haven’t done a lot of moving around in my career, which is OK because I absolutely love being close to my family, and there’s no better place to live than North Carolina.” And forecasting the Triad’s weather never gets boring: “The weather here is very dynamic and can be a bear to forecast, but there’s nothing like a good challenge,” he says. “Sometimes I think I’m the most blessed person on the planet because I’m doing the two things that I love the most — weather and animal adoption.” OH Only Guinevere, the springer spaniel that walks O.Henry senior editor David Claude Bailey, is cuter than Rio. July 2014

O.Henry 35


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Lunch with a Friend

Big Hearts at the Burger Spot For Hospice veterinarian Sara Fletcher, life’s purpose is simple. Helping family pets and grieving owners

By Cynthia Adams

We arrange to meet

Photograph by Hannah Sharpe

at the Big Burger Spot on Battleground Avenue on a heart-lifting sunshiny day. Veterinarian Sara Fletcher has trouble finding it and calls me on my cell to verify that it is at the Exxon Station near Walmart. Affirmative. The Big Burger Spot is hidden in plain sight, just to the right of the entrance to the gas station.

Fletcher, a strict vegetarian, has never been here, but is eager to see the pet murals the Big Burger Spot features on its courtyard wall and fence. Like me, she vies for a parking spot, angling her SUV into one of the few that opens up. It’s 2 p.m. on a Friday, and this joint is jumping. The cafe is aptly named. Eighteen toppings, including applewood-smoked bacon and house-made pimiento cheese, mean you can create a dizzying variety of burger combos. Sides include fries with aged Parmesan, garlic and white truffle oil. Dip them in pesto garlic aioli, if you want. Thanks to said sunshine, we opt to eat outside in the fenced-in area where the colorful murals serve as a backdrop. Fletcher turns out to be anything but the white-coated, nerdy vet I envisioned. Dark-haired, hip-looking, 37 years old, with a bohemian style that favors blue jeans and boots, she has the look of a Botticelli subject in mod disguise. Her hair falls in loose tendrils and her fresh face is au naturel. Fletcher’s style is so natural that it is all the more affecting that her only jewelry is a stunning gold necklace, with a greyhound’s winsome face etched upon a charm. We decide to check out the murals, hoping the line at the counter shortens. The dogs are painted by Jessica Oddono (www.facebook.com/petportraitbyjessica ). Pick up a form at the restaurant to add your pet to the mural, whether it’s among the living — or deceased, in which case a little golden halo will be added ($60, with $25 going to Red Dog Farm Animal Rescue Network and the rest to the artist). The paintings are inexpressively naïve and moving. Set amid famous tourist scenes — the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Eiffel Tower and Manhattan’s skyline — pet birds, cats and dogs gambol across the wall. “I could imagine if this were in Venice Beach,” Fletcher says, smiling broadly. “But at a gas station in Greensboro?” Fletcher tells me she could have become a dentist, an M.D. or a lawyer, like others in her family — or even a pilot like her stepfather. But she knew she would become a vet even as a child, “since observing a vet deliver a calf at my Aunt Mary’s farm in the middle of Missouri.” As we head into the bustling

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

café area, she recounts how she spent three years in general practice and in emergency care as a relief vet in a general practice in the Triad and another in Reidsville. Then she became a hospice veterinarian. I ask her about the gold link necklace encrusted with tiny diamonds and a charm, which I noticed from first meeting her. Her hand floats to her throat. “My other auntie (a plastic surgeon) had this made for me,” Fletcher says, taking it off to show the dog’s image. “It’s my Sophie.” Sophie is the beloved dog that Fletcher cannot speak of without emotion. The loss of her own pet in 2008 coincided with a crisis point in Fletcher’s career. After she broke her foot, Fletcher’s miseries compounded. “Then Sophie’s ashes were stolen from my car along with my purse. The universe hit me with a bus.” But good fortune arrived inside the misfortune, becoming the catalyst for personal change. “That day in the parking lot, I changed my life. I smelled roses,” she says. The scent of roses permeated — it was an inexplicable sign she couldn’t ignore. Fletcher vowed sorrow was not going to define her. That very afternoon, she drove to a downtown knitting shop and spent hours learning to knit. She grins. “That made it clear I was at the end of a volume of ‘My Life.’ Now I was entering Volume Two. There was a huge shift; the dynamic of my life changed.” Fletcher felt herself opening to something new, saying, “I began to make small changes.” The line has moved forward and it’s almost time to order. After skimming the specials board, we look around us. Fletcher, the vegetarian, is momentarily stunned. Most clients are choosing meat-intensive burgers — sized “colossal,” “big” and “almost-big” (the latter, $1 cheaper). The colossal burgers feature steersized portions and premium toppings. But what really surprises us is that the menu isn’t limited to carnivores. There are several options such as portabella mushroom burgers for vegetarians like Fletcher. “Oh, there’s a lot here I can eat!” Fletcher says with genuine delight. She is starving; she had a busy workday after meeting with the support group for bereaved pet owners that she frequently attends to lend professional insight. She happily chooses a Greek salad ($6.49), which has clearly just been made versus having been pulled from the fridge. Fletcher and I chat as we work through our sizable portions. Our eyes also flicker over to the murals painted on the concrete blocks of the restaurant’s exterior wall, and along a wooden privacy fence. She describes how she left traditional veterinary medicine the year of her awakening and discovered Lap of Love, a veterinary hospice and in-home euthanasia practice. “It’s not a large group,” she says. “About seventy vets.” Nowadays, Fletcher uses her veterinary knowledge making house calls, July 2014

O.Henry 37


Lunch with a Friend

consulting with clients who have aging pets at home. Of course, many pets are in critical stages of illness. She advises owners on how they can adapt the home environment and themselves to caring for a geriatric animal; she does in-home evaluations. Fletcher also meets with grief counseling groups for bereaved pet owners. And of course, when necessary, Fletcher also performs in-home euthanasia, which means a critically ill animal does not have to be taken into a clinic. Fletcher is doing her best to finish the mix of tomatoes, cucumber, banana peppers, Kalamata olives, roasted red peppers, dolmades and feta. My grilled chicken salad has many of the same ingredients as the Greek, with avocado as requested. The salad dressings are house-made, and we both nod in surprise at how tasty both the Greek vinaigrette and balsamic vinaigrette are. In unison, we splutter, “Hard to believe we are sitting at a gas station!” Fletcher says the work she does can be draining, but it’s obvious to her that hospice services for animals are as needed as those for humans. “I commonly hear, ‘You’re an angel,’ or, people tell me, ‘This was as nice as this could have ever been.’” The “this” is the work of offering much-loved pets a peaceful exit. A final gift. The fact that those with ill pets can opt to have them treated at home lessens the anxiety for both pet and owner. “She’s incredibly nice,” says Chuck Carlson, a Summerfield client. He recently had to call Fletcher concerning his 8-year-old dog Byron. Initially, the primary clinic that treats Byron thought he might have a pulled muscle. But

after treatment, “Byron was only good for a day. We called Sara. She knew what was wrong immediately.” Gentle Byron, who loved licking the milky foam after his master finished off his morning latte, died gently at home, surrounded by his human family. For a teaching veterinarian like Jim Moore, who specializes in large animal research, particularly equine, Fletcher’s work is a true calling that requires much emotional stamina and true grit. “I couldn’t do it,” he admits. But today, the sun is shining brilliantly and Fletcher is upbeat. She loves her work, she says, and it has meaning; this meaning has given her immense purpose. Scrutinizing the pet murals at Big Burger Spot, some with lopsided halos, others portraits of pets still among us, she smiles winsomely. “She’s one of the most amazing vets I’ve ever met,” says Carol Carlson. “And the kindest. I don’t know what we would have done without her.” Fletcher, like the Big Burger Spot, is not what you expect. But it so happens both are exactly what so many of us want and need. OH For further information: www.LapofLove.com, or email: DrSara@ LapofLove.com. O.Henry contributing editor and Greensboro resident Cindy Adams does not share her lattes with her dog.

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38 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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July 2014

O.Henry 39


Artist at Work

Collaring The Market

By Maria Johnson

If they’re nothing else, the greeters

at Yellow Dog Design Inc. are enthusiasts.

Addie sticks her nose in your crotch. Stella jumps up and hugs you. They smile and pant as they lead you to their playroom, a large, carpeted area where brothers Don and Mike Dempsey, work from desks that face each other diagonally. From this domain, the brothers run Yellow Dog, one of the country’s largest makers of fashionable dog collars. They ship to 4,000 retailers worldwide and rack up $4–5 million in annual sales. But the real action happens here, in the middle of the floor. Addie, a white English retriever, body slams Stella and bites her neck. Stella, a yellow Lab, kicks her off, spins and pins Stella to the carpet. Addie struggles free and lunges for Stella. The soundtrack is guttural. Ooof. Grr. Yip. From one corner, Mike explains how he and Don — Grimsley grads who grew up riding bicycles and eating fried bologna sandwiches in Greensboro’s Green Valley neighborhood — started Yellow Dog. It was 2001. Mike had just been downsized out of a textile printing company in Burlington, but he had enough Irish in him to start his own company. He promptly named the company Yellow Dog after his beloved yellow Lab, Sugar, and took his former employer’s biggest customer. Together, he and Don — who’d been selling anesthesia equipment — made millions of printed shoelaces. You know Sponge Bob Square Pants? Millions of Sponge Bob shoelaces. You know his sidekick Patrick Star? Millions of Patrick Star shoelaces. MILL-yuns.

40 O.Henry

July 2014

The company was profitable within three months. The brothers’ bankers were ecstatic. Yellow Dog diversified. They did elastic waistbands and lanyards. Same idea: specialty printing on demand. But within a few years, Chinese companies owned textile printing. Large orders were going overseas. Don and Mike needed a new angle. Their own product. A niche. It was right under their noses. And all because they had a caninefriendly office. “We had these dogs in here, and one day, it just clicked,” Mike says. They would put creative designs on dog collars and leashes made from the same material they’d been working with — polyester webbing. Target audience: fashion-conscious women who wanted to accessorize their pooches. “We try to do designs so the wife will buy them but the husband will still walk the dog that’s wearing them,” says Don.
Stella wriggles free and sprints around Don’s desk, collides with Addie, and hops up to the couch, which is covered with fur. Ditto the carpet, which is littered with well-gnawed chew toys and tug-o-war ropes. “When someone comes to visit, we say, ‘Should we clean the carpet?’ Then we say, ‘Why?’” Mike says. “We’re thinking about Astroturf,” says Don. “Or linoleum.” The big-box pet stores got wind of the Yellow Dog. They approached the brothers with offers to carry the line. Don, the numbers guy, combed the contracts. Too demanding, he decided. You add capacity to accommodate big customers, and soon they have you by the short fur. Plus, the big chains wanted to squeeze Yellow Dog’s profits over the years. Thanks but no thanks, the brothers said. They stuck with boutiques, gift stores and small pet-store chains. In Greensboro, they signed up All Pets Considered, Downtown Hounds and Pet Supermarket. They expanded their offerings. They added horse halters, bridles and leads, which they sell through a website called Red Haught Horse. The brothers also affiliated with a Pittsburgh company that licenses sports logos. Now, Yellow The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Photograph by Hannah Sharpe

For the Brothers Dempsey – and their old dog Sugar – each day is a good day at Yellow Dog Design


Artist

guarantee We

it’s warm in here…

Dog customers can get collars emblazoned with the logos of most collegiate teams and all professional basketball, football and hockey teams. The brothers hope to add Major League Baseball designs. “We’re working on it,” Mike says. Sugar, the dog who inspired the company name, hobbles in, studies the young wrestlers and opts for a comfy bed in the corner. She’s 16 ½ years old and withered with age. She wears a collar printed with shamrocks. “We feel fortunate she’s still with us,” says Mike. “Each day is a good day.” Butch, a black Lab, wanders in to see if anyone wants to play catch. Dissatisfied with his prospects, Butch sashays out. Don jumps up to give a tour of the 15,000-square-foot building they rent in Greensboro’s Pomona area. We pass an office. From inside, Blue, a border collie, grins hello. In this company, dogs are encouraged to bring their owners to work. We enter the back shop, where the collars and leashes are made. Jack, a Jack Russell terrier, acknowledges us with a yap. Butch, who’s carrying a piece of unrecognizable black plastic, tries us again. “He’s an obsessive ball-chaser,” says Don. Yellow Dog buys the webbing and the hardware for its collars. Everything else they do here. Staff artists create the designs, which are digitized and printed on special paper with dye-sublimation ink. Thin reels of paper meet thin reels of webbing in the heat transfer machine, and viola, long strips of brightly printed fabric emerge on the other side. Employees at sewing machines attach buckles and hardware. The collars and leads are created and shipped on demand. That explains why owners can get collars personalized with their dogs’ name. They’re called YD-ID collars (Yellow Dog identification), and they were inspired by NikeiD customizable shoes. Don leads me to a rack of collars sporting an amazing array of designs. Palm trees. Tennis balls. Golf balls. Peace signs. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Flowers. Shells. Chevrons. Snowmen. Reindeer. Stars and stripes. Dragonflies. Owls. Paisleys. Plaids. Camouflage. Grapes. Wine bottles. Cupcakes. Sea horses. Anchors. Skulls and crossbones. Whales. Polka dots. If they don’t have a design in their catalog of 350 choices, they’ll create it. “We’ll try to do anything, and we’ll try to keep it reasonable,” says Don. Already, Yellow Dog has created custom collars for Abita, Sierra Nevada and Shiner Bock breweries. Natty Greene’s in downtown Greensboro wants a custom collar. So does Ruff Housing, the doggy lodging business. Miss Babe Ruth and Yogi Berra, the beloved bat-fetching dogs [See story, page 15] of Greensboro’s minor league baseball team, the Grasshoppers, wear team collars by Yellow Dog. The company also has created collars for Jill Rappaport, the animal welfare correspondent on NBC’s Today show. “Pound Hound,” “Heart Melter,” “Rescued Me,” and “Opt to Adopt,” they say. Another line of collars warns humans: “Caution: I Will Bite;” “Caution: Medication Needed; ” “Caution: Princess;” “Caution: Leg Humper.” “There’s no one in the business who has as many designs as we have,” says Don. Mike, who handles sales and design, is constantly on the prowl for new ideas. He visits fashion websites — including those by Kate Spade, J. Crew, Zulily and Anthropologie — and tries to imagine trendy motifs on a dog collar.

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O.Henry 41


MUSIC for a

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42 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Artist

TACOS. BAR. CATERING. “You really have to think outside the box,” says Mike. “A collar is a collar is a collar. It’s really about the design.” This year, Yellow Dog will introduce more argyle collars. They’ll also sell a stretchy lead and a tug toy with a tennis ball attached. For next year, they’re developing waterproof fashion collars. “If you’re not working on March of next year, you’re late,” says Mike. All is not for profit. Yellow Dog does community work, too. They’re working on a fundraiser with a school in Burlington. The students will design and sell a dog collar and keep a percentage of their sales. “We don’t have to make all the money,” says Mike. “Bless his soul,” says Don, the financial man, smiling and shaking his head. “He couldn’t care less about stuff like that.” People always ask the brothers what it’s like working with family. They agree: It’s great. They have each other’s backs, and they can speak honestly without hurting each other’s feelings. “Sometimes he’ll say, ‘You’ve had some great ideas, and that ain’t one of them,’” says Don. “At the end of the day, we’re brothers.” Their banter and attire keep the mood casual. Dressed in golf shirts, shorts and running shoes, they’re ready for a round of golf at a moment’s notice. Their late father, Larry, was an excellent golfer who still holds the low amateur score at the old Greater Greensboro Open, which evolved into the Wyndham Championship. Addie, Stella, Butch and company contribute to the laid-back atmosphere, too. Watching them play is tension reliever, the brothers say, and reaching under your desk to rub furry ears keeps anxiety at bay. “They can take you miles away, real quick,” says Mike. The pups would agree, but they’re motionless, pancaked on their sides, on the fun-stained carpet. The creative team that inspires Yellow Dog is taking a much deserved nap. OH

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Check out Yellow Dog Design Inc. at yellowdogdesign.com. O.Henry contributing editor Maria Johnson can be reached at maria@ohenrymag.com.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

July 2014

O.Henry 43


Sporting Life

For the Love of a Retriever A good hunting dog is hard to forget

By Tom Bryant

Dick Coleman was the fellow who

started it all — the dog business, that is, or more exactly, the retriever dog business — for a lot of us. A Ducks Unlimited banquet was coming up, and he was in charge of soliciting gifts from local businesses to raise money for the ducks.

First came little outdoor raffle items that would appeal to the folks that spend a lot of time in the woods. The idea was they would buy raffle tickets just for the fun of it. It also didn’t hurt that pretty co-ed cheerleaders from Elon and the University at Chapel Hill were recruited to sell the tickets. This event raised a lot of money, but the most important part of the banquet was the auction. High-dollar sporting items were designed to be auctioned at just the right time during the festivities when a couple of drinks and a firstclass dinner had loosened the purse strings of good old boys with money to burn. Coleman was in charge of getting all these gifts together. I don’t think he even realized he was doing it, but the major auction item, one that was designed to be the piece de resistance and would be presented at the end of the banquet, was an eight-week-old black Labrador puppy. It just so happened this puppy had Dick Coleman’s name on it. As it turned out, Dick was the successful bidder for the puppy, and Jim Lasley and I helped him get the little dog home after the successful banquet. The ducks would have a lot of money generated from the affair, and a bunch of dollars came from Dick when he couldn’t resist bidding for what would become his lifelong dog friend.

44 O.Henry

July 2014

The Lab, named Honcho, would grow into a hundred pound, wired tight, bird-retrieving machine and would influence several of us to get retrievers of our own. Jim was the first. Jim and I had just started a small weekly newspaper and spent a lot of time at the office getting the new enterprise up and running. Coleman’s men’s haberdashery was located around the corner, and Dick would usually stop by our little office on his way to work. Invariably, the conversation would center on how the training was going with his new puppy. Jim, a past bird dog owner, got the bug and with the help of Coleman found a breeder of golden retrievers. Before you knew it, he had a perky little blond puppy he named Sandy. After a bit, along came Richard Cockman, an outdoor enthusiast, whose father-in-law, Curly Sanders, owned several champion English setters. In no time, Richard, an expert in his own right on bloodlines of Labradors, had a couple of black Lab puppies of his own. Then started the training. Alamance Wildlife Club was the perfect place, with a pond where the dogs could practice water retrieves and rolling fields for single marks and hand-signal training. Dog school was in session. For a while I just watched. I would ride to the club with the dog handlers and their charges, kick back and watch them as they went through their training routines. But me with a dog? No thanks, too much responsibility. That is until one day I realized how much fun the boys were having. Early one evening after an afternoon watching the handlers and dogs work, Linda and I were sitting on the patio talking about how they were progressing when she suggested that I get a retriever and join the fun. The very next day, Jim and I began the search for my puppy and soon Paddle, a nine-week old yellow Lab fur ball, became part of our family. Other guys joined in on the fun, too. Tom Pate showed up at the Wildlife Club with a cute little Boykin spaniel. In those days, Boykins had not been recognized by the American Kennel Club as a certified breed, so Princess, The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Sporting Life as she was named, couldn’t participate in the field trials of the Tar Heel Retriever Club, to which most of us belonged. Made no difference though, the little dog ran in all the training tests and even showed up some of her bigger, more acceptable dog friends, or more acceptable to that pious group, the AKC. We enjoyed working with all breeds of dogs, and Pate later got a big rangy black Lab he named Gilly, so he could make the road trips to the many field trials the Tar Heel Club hosted. We made friends across the state. Dogs and handlers have a lot in common; and from mill owners to blue-collar laborers, everybody was treated the same. When you and your dog are on the line with a double mark and blind retrieve, the only thing that makes any difference is the dog. Everybody is equal; that is, until after the test. Then come bragging rights. The Tar Heel Club sponsored some marvelous field trials. One I remember above the rest was a spring weekend in Siler City at the farm of our good friend Edwin Clapp. Edwin’s dog, a big leggy yellow Lab, was one of the top dogs in our group. I remember dove hunting with them early one season when his dog, Dick (no relation to Coleman), jumped a five-foot cattle fence to retrieve a downed dove. At the trial on Edwin’s farm, my little three-month-old Lab placed first in the puppy stakes. Before it was over, almost every one of my bird hunting friends had retrievers of some breed. Bryan Pennington, a good duck-hunting buddy, had a little wirehaired pointing Griffon named Shug, that would retrieve anything from a duck to a squirrel. She would even go out to her kennel and retrieve her dog bowl when it was time for supper. These special dogs during that special time helped us become the individuals we are today. They were like family and were treated as such, and I know that I’m a better person because of the furry companions who shared my life. Coleman, the boy who started it all, said it best as we sat on the tailgate of his Blazer late one afternoon after a successful dove hunt. The dogs were under the truck cooling down and resting. A beautiful early fall sunset was sinking behind the tree line to the west. “Bryant,” he said as we watched the afternoon come to an end. “You reckon dogs go to heaven when they die?” “I don’t know,” I replied. “Seems like I’ve read somewhere that there is a religious group that believes animals don’t have souls.” “Well,” Coleman said matter-of-factly as he stood up and stretched. “If they don’t go, I don’t want to go either.” OH Tom Bryant, a Southern Pines resident, is a lifelong outdoorsman and O.Henry’s Sporting Life columnist. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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O.Henry 45


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Life of Jane

Lucky and Belle True love and a lost-and-found tennis ball

By Jane Borden

Illustration by Meridith Martens

Herewith, the best dog tale I’ve ever heard.

It’s about Lucky. Or, really, Belle. But it starts with Bo. My friend Sanford, in Sewanee, Tennessee, had a dog named Bo, a Mountain Cur, who took off hunting one day with a neighbor dog and never came back. From the time you turn off the county road, it’s another ten minutes to Sanford’s house. He lives on a land trust, one of only a few in the world. The 1,100 acres he shares and stewards with nine other households — and the board they created to own and manage it — runs up to and along a bluff of the Cumberland Plateau, overlooking a cove and over to another bluff beyond. Bo disappeared. Six months later, our friends Sarah and David were camping while on a birding survey in Savage Gulf, when their dogs found what looked like a dead rodent. Sarah approached and heard it gasp. The puppy couldn’t even open her eyes. She’d been left in the canyon to die. They had a tube with The Art & Soul of Greensboro

them, and put it down her throat to hydrate her. She slept on David’s chest that night. The next morning, on their way back to the car, they passed a sign for Bowater Paper Company, which does some logging in the area, and Sarah thought of Bo, Sanford’s lost dog. She called him when they got home. Sanford spent two minutes with the puppy and brought her home. He named her Belle. She turned out to be a Mountain Cur, the same breed as Bo. Several years later, Sanford’s friend Kevin was sitting in his truck, waiting outside of a laundromat in Dunlap, Tennessee, for his laundry to dry, when a scrawny black dog, camouflaged against the night, trotted over. It was in bad shape, looked like it’d been eating out of garbage cans. Kevin had lost a black dog himself a couple of months prior in a fire and decided this might be fate. He said, “I think we’re in the same boat; why don’t you jump in the truck.” The dog did. Kevin named him Lucky. In January of 2012, Kevin discovered he had six weeks to live. He asked Sanford to be a guardian for Lucky. Sanford found a home for the dog, but it didn’t work out, so he took him in himself. As far as Sanford can tell, Lucky is part black Lab (his general shape and coloring), part Basset hound (his legs splay out), and maybe a little pit bull (on account of his thick neck). Belle was 12 at the time and took him under her wing, taught him the ropes. She showed him how to guard the property, making a circle of it whenever she heard a sound. When she got older, she’d get him to do the scouting by barking until he jumped up and made the rounds for her. She was the matriarch and he recognized that. He never slept in her spot or near it. If she was in a bad mood, he’d keep his head July 2014

O.Henry 47


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Life of Jane

down and give her space. He was respectful. Lucky loves to catch a ball; he’s a retriever. Belle never much liked the sport. Still, when Sanford and Lucky played, she sometimes wanted to participate, so she’d present Sanford with a stick. Her favorite pastime was racing. She always rode in the truck with Sanford, and once, while they were out somewhere in the truck, instead of getting back in the cab, she took off running, looking back, waiting for Sanford to catch up. After that she did it almost every time: Once they’d get about halfway through the trust, he’d slow down and let her out, and she’d cut a path through the woods, trying to reach the bridge leading up to his drive before he did. She investigated several routes over the years. He once clocked her going 30 mph. As she aged, he stopped letting her run as far or as fast as she used to. But she still loved it. One afternoon, while she was tailing him toward the drive and he was watching her in the rearview mirror, she let out a yip, and collapsed on the gravel. “She just fell,” he recalls. “She probably had a heart attack or an aneurysm. She didn’t die just immediately. I put her in the car and she had her eyes open for a minute. I just loved on her, and was headed to the vet, and she died four or five minutes later. “Guests were coming out that evening, so I thought, they can be at the burial too. So folks came. And I had dug a grave. And I layered it with garden herbs and plants that smelled real good. It was thick with vegetation. And I laid Belle down down in there. We were standing around, and before I began to put the dirt on, everybody just started talking a little bit about Belle and their relationship with her. And that’s when, out of the clear blue, Lucky comes up with his tennis ball in his mouth. “It had been lost. He’d lost it, so we hadn’t played ball in about a week. I was planning to go out and get another one. I mean I hadn’t seen it in a week. But, undoubtedly, he found it because he comes up between us — and not directly in front of me — and he walks up to the edge of the pit and drops the ball into the grave on top of her.” I ask Sanford if he thinks Lucky knew what he was doing. “I think that’s best left to everybody’s minds. I can’t say if . . . I mean I can’t say. I’m not going to try to think that he wanted . . . you know, who knows.” OH

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O.Henry 49


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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


July 2014 Pet Psychic She holds her hands above the urn on the table like hands over a fire to warm them. The ashes of a dearly departed terrier speak to her from the grave, “I am here doing fine. I love you. What a great master you were. There are others here I know. The gerbil who belonged to the little boy downstairs. The orange alley cat I used to bark at, that got run over by the garbage truck; the one we saw mangled by the curb on the way to the vet. Even the neighbor’s parrot, that big green and yellow one you hated so much. I remember how you laughed at the droppings on the old lady’s shoulder. There are lots of other dogs here, too. I’ve been talking with the ones that have been put down. They say it’s like falling to sleep, then you wake up here. It’s kind of blurry at first, then you realize there are no people, just other animals. And there’s plenty of food and sunshine. Nobody bothers anybody else. I even saw a lion lying with a lamb. Don’t worry about me. I have to go.” Her client trembles, pulls several tissues from a box on her lap, pats her eyes gently, and wipes her nose, clearing her voice and softly thanking her for this glimpse from the other side. The pet psychic says, “You’re welcome. I take cash and personal checks.” — Jonathan K. Rice

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

July 2014

O.Henry 51


Karen Tury Cecil How to Take the Purr-fect Pet Photo By Jenny Drabble Whether you have a fancy digital camera or an iPhone, consider these tips from professional pet photographer Karen Tury Cecil: 1. Keep your camera handy at all times for candid shots. 2. Shoot in the early morning or late afternoon for optimal lighting. 3. Use natural light indoors instead of a flash for a more natural look. 4. Shoot photos in a familiar place to put your pet at ease. 5. Use a plain background to minimize distractions. 6. Shoot from a low angle to show what life’s like from your pet’s perspective. 7. Sometimes a dog only smiles for a second, so be quick! 8. Treats work well, but use them sparingly. 9. Be patient. Pets don’t like to hold still. 10. Shoot constantly! You’re bound to get at least one good shot!

MAQUAS l German shorthaired pointer. Carolyn and Randy Taylor.

Info: www.karenturycecil.com

BELLA l Black Lab. Dr. Jason Sanders; Beth, Cooper & John Sanders.

ROXY l German Shepherd. Jody Wade 52 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


NEMO l Yorkie. Sandra and Ralph Barnes.

TOOTSIE l Boston terrier. Sveta Krylova, Alek and Andrew Plotnikov.

LEONARDO l Miniature schnauzer. Ann and Dale Whitfield.

FEY l Coonhound. Mary Bryan Smith.

LEBO l Australian cattle dog. Chris, Julie and Alexander McKeown.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

July 2014

O.Henry 53


Shop Dogs Sometimes a retailer’s best marketing device is a cold, wet nose and a wagging tail By Jenny Drabble Photographs by Amy Freeman

Teddy Golden retriever Lollipop Shop, 1736 Battleground Avenue, Greensboro It’s a bird, it’s a plane . . . it’s Teddy the super dog, who rips around the store sporting a Superman or Batman cape. Despite his super-dog title, Teddy is sweet and gentle to the core — never too macho to don a tutu or princess getup. Every day is Halloween for this loveable ball of fur, who models princess and fairy clothes for Lollipop Shopowner Anne Grant’s grandchildren. Teddy takes his work as greeter very seriously, lighting each customer’s face with a smile. This rescue dog from Atlanta especially loves children, who climb all over him and use his back as a racetrack for their toy cars. His 1-year-old “little brother” Dudley, a Basset hound mix, is also in training to be a shop dog. Most Paws-itive Trait: “He’s just a hunk of love. A gentleman with a huge heart.” Pet Peeve: “My biggest pet peeve is that he’s a little too interested in other people’s food! One time he actually had his nose in one lady’s pocketbook and was trying to nibble at her Moe’s.”

54 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Charlie

Mango

English springer spaniel

Dachshund Chihuahua mix (aka chiweenie)

Revolution Cycles NC, 1907 Spring Garden Street, Greensboro

Revolution Cycles NC, 1907 Spring Garden Street, Greensboro

Charlie is a bit of an escape artist. No fence can contain him, which has earned him a ticket to work every day with employee and cycling enthusiast Ben Parsons. Charlie has risen to the occasion, taking it upon himself to greet the customers and patrol the shop, bringing joy to those around him with an affectionate wag his nub of a tail. Like many of the customers filtering through Revolution Cycles, Charlie loves the outdoors, especially hiking and swimming. Although Parsons admits Charlie can be a little neurotic, he is fiercely loyal, defending the homestead from intruders, other dogs . . . and of course the mail lady. Most Paws-itive Trait: “He’s fiercely loyal.” Pet Peeve: “No fence can contain him!” The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Mango can be a bit of a diamond in the rough. He was left at a PetSmart with a note saying he was unmanageable. After bouncing around foster homes, Revolution Cycles owner Watts Dixon took him in and fell deeply in love. Appreciating the gesture, Mango turned loyal and loves hanging out with and greeting customers. Although he weighs in at only fifteen pounds, that doesn’t stop him from facing off against pit bulls or other dogs five times his size! He’s also not a fan of big hats — but really, who is? Wear one and he’ll greet your fashion “faux paw” with furious barking. But for all his quirks, Dixon wouldn’t trade him for the world. Despite his occasional attitudinal problem, Mango is super affectionate. Every morning, he hops up on the bed and pulls the blankets off Dixon to wake him up as if to say, “Time for work!” Most Paws-itive Trait: “His smart and affectionate personality.” Pet Peeve: “All the attitude he gives to other dogs.” July 2014

O.Henry 55


Oliver Cavalier King Charles spaniel Monkee’s of Irving Park, 1951 Battleground Avenue, Greensboro Many a customer has gone into Monkee’s wearing socks and left with none. What can you say? Oliver’s a collector. Slinking through the shop, the pup waits for the most opportune moment to seize the recently removed socks of customers as they try on new shoes. One time Oliver even managed to make away with a bra from someone in the changing room! Some customers let him keep the captured clothes as trophies for his burrow. A lap dog who craves attention and loves meeting new people, the playful pup’s friendly and loving personality has won him not only a sock collection, but the hearts of many Monkee’s customers. Most Paws-itive Trait: “His friendly personality and how he greets every customer.” Pet Peeve: “The spaniel part of him. He takes off if he’s not on a leash or fenced in.”

Jasmine English bulldog Bryant’s Sentry Hardware Lawn & Garden, 3915 Burlington Road, Greensboro “Walmart has a greeter,” remarks Phil Bryant. “So should we.” Jasmine’s a superstar on the premises. Kids come in to get their photo taken with her. Customers know her by name. She even has a shirt with her picture on the back. And she never complains about working ten hours a day, six days a week. When Bryant asks, “Have you spoken to those folks yet?” she bounds right over to fulfill her role as the one-dog greeting committee. She’s meek and mild as can be and is very careful around small children. Her favorite pastime is to chase Bryant’s golf cart around. She doesn’t want to ride in it, just catch it. Jasmine loves eating most of all and will do anything for a cracker. Most Paws-itive Trait: “Her demeanor. She is such a sweet and smart dog and always so gentle around small children.” Pet Peeve: “Her huge appetite. Even as a puppy, that dog could eat me out of house and home!”

56 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Maxine Pug Maxie B’s Bakery & Dessert Café, 2403 Battleground Avenue, Greensboro As the car pulled up to the Umstead Hotel in Cary, Maxine trotted out ready for her grand entrance. As the doorman opened the door, she bounded in as if she owned the place. Since she’s not a fan of stairs, she patiently waited for someone to pick her up and take her to her suite. Wherever the Davis family goes, Maxine is in attendance, whether it’s a hotel, tennis tournament or the bakery. Granted, she’s a bit of a princess, but one with an enormous heart who charms anyone who comes in contact with her. Maxine is like a stuffed animal that has come to life, Robin Davis, Maxie B’s general manager, will tell you. The loving pooch adores people and is so docile she enjoys playing with the baby pet bunnies in the backyard. Most Paws-itive Trait: “Her ability to make you happier than you were before you saw her. She’s just a sweetheart.” Pet Peeve: “She’s stubborn. If you take a walk and she wants to go left, she will park herself down if you try to go any other direction.”

Pixie Italian greyhound and miniature pinscher mix (aka MinPin) Local Honey Salon, 233 Commerce Place, Greensboro It’s routine for salons to get requests for certain stylists, but customers calling Local Honey often want to make sure Pixie the MinPin is in residence. With a flash of her big, silly, almost-human grin, Pixie captures your heart. She’s very much of a daddy’s girl, tagging along behind owner Jay Bulluck, both of them eager to put smiles on customers’ faces. Although Pixie is the only pet who comes to the shop regularly, some of the other stylists bring their pets to work on occasion as well. One pet in particular has caught Pixie’s attention: a pig named Hamlet, for whom she’s developed a bit of a crush. Most Paws-itive Trait: “Her million-dollar smile. It’s her signature move.” Pet Peeve: “She can be impatient at times. She hates being away from me.” A rising senior and journalism major at Carolina, Jenny Drabble has written for The Daily Tar Heel, University Gazette and Greensboro’s News & Record. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

July 2014

O.Henry 57


The Dog Who

Found Me

S

By Jim Dodson

even years ago I was turning into a park to speak at a summer festival when a black streak shot across the busy highway in front of me, barely escaping the wheels of a delivery truck. My first response was relief that the dog didn’t get hit; my second, anger that some fool would let their young pup run loose in traffic. As I watched, the black dog bolted across the park and disappeared around a tent where scores of people were drinking and eating. Wherever the black streak was headed, I hoped he or she wouldn’t go home by the same route. An hour or so later I was opening my car door to leave when I saw the dog again — heading straight back to the busy highway at high speed, certain to meet an unhappy end. Too late to try to catch the dog, I simply cupped my hands to my mouth and hollered, “Hey! Black Streak! Come here!” Something extraordinary happened. The animal abruptly stopped, turned around and looked at me. I whistled and squatted. The dog bolted toward me with the same exuberance and leapt right into my arms. She was very young, thin and dusty, ribs showing through her black coat, with the deepest soulful brown eyes I’d ever seen on a dog, wiggling like crazy in my arms, licking at my face. She had no collar. Two kids with bikes were walking past. I asked if they had any idea whose dog she was. One shrugged. “That dog’s been around here, mister, for two or three weeks. I think somebody must have put her out or she run away from somewhere. She’s lost, I reckon. We give her stuff to eat.” I couldn’t let this adorable foundling loose, so I put her on the seat of my new car and rolled up the windows and put on the air conditioning. She promptly peed on the seat. Park workers were picking up trash nearby. I drove over their way and asked if they knew anything about this beautiful lost pup. “She’s been around here about three weeks,” the older man told me. “I’ve seen her chasing squirrels and birds in the woods over there. She’s a wild thing. Nobody could catch her. How’d you?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. She just came to me.” I drove her to our local Humane Society. It was Friday of a holiday weekend. They were a full house. Next I tried the county shelter. Same story. Finally I remembered a no-kill animal shelter twenty miles out in the country. I took the wild black streak there. By the time I pulled in, she was sitting on the console between the front seats, leaning heavily on my right shoulder. The woman who ran the shelter gave her a shot of worming medicine and remarked, “You can leave her here, if you wish. We’ll take care of her. But honestly, I think that dog has adopted you.” So I took her home and fed her a can of Alpo dog food, which she almost instantly threw up along with a surprising number of small

58 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Photograph by Jack Dodson

animal bones and junk. Then I gave her a bath, which she hated. The tub’s water was dark brown when we finished, but she was as glossy black as a newborn seal. I phoned my wife, Wendy. We were still technically living in Maine — or she was. I was commuting every two weeks between our house on the coast of Maine, the Sandhills, and Hollins University in Virginia, where I was serving as writer in residence. “Listen,” I said. “I found a stray dog. She’s a pup — a retriever of some sort. She was running wild.” Wendy knows me so well. “You want to keep her, right?” The idea was totally impractical. We already had two needy golden retrievers and were preparing to move our household permanently to North Carolina. “Oh, no,” I said. “Well, maybe — but only if I can’t find her owner.” “Right.” She sounded amused. “Have you given her a name yet?” A name suddenly came to me out of the ether, the perfect name for a second-chance dog that had magically jumped into my arms. “I might call her Mulligan. Mully for short.” The ancients believed that when you give something a name, it’s yours for life. That night I heard snoring and rolled over to find Mully lying upside down with her handsome head on the pillow beside me. When I spoke to her, her dark eyes glistened and her shaggy tail thumped. She seemed so pleased that we somehow had found each other. We’ve been inseparable ever since. She’s accompanied me on road trips to Maine and the summit of Grandfather mountain and just about everywhere I’ve gone for the past seven years. The smartest dog I’ve ever owned, and possibly ever seen, The Mull, as I now commonly call her, quickly took over running the lives of the goldens and won the hearts of any human she came into contact with via her cheerful personality and soulful brown eyes. When I worked in the terrace garden of our former house and grabbed a quick nap in my favorite Adirondack chair afterward, she was always close by keeping watch for deer or any other wildlife foolish enough to enter her large fenced domain, always ready to go for a walk around the neighborhood on a straining leash because, as I learned the hard way, she had such a wild streak in her she simply couldn’t stop herself from bolting after a rabbit or squirrel. After all, they were once supper. Sometimes I worried, in fact, that I’d taken her away from a life in the wild that suited her. Her heritage, I discovered, was that of a working field dog. A friend familiar with the finer points of dog breeding informed me that she was probably a mix of border collie and flat-coated retriever. A flat-coated retriever is a skilled and highly intelligent hunter, a gundog that originated in Great Britain and was known for its ability to retrieve game birds. Perhaps this explains why the first Christmas she was with us I heard a faint noise in the dining room after the family had moved to the living room fire and got up to investigate and found the remains of the Christmas ham missing from its platter. Upstairs in the seldom-used wing of the old house, I found The Mull lying on a bed working on a naked ham bone, surrounded by a small mountain of empty dog and cat food cans she’d pilfered from the garbage and had carried up to her own secret dining chambers. Not long before we moved to a newer house with an overgrown two-acre garden out back, I found the well-hidden gap in the fence where our youngest The Art & Soul of Greensboro

golden — Ajax the Escape Artist, as I call him — slipped through on several occasions to go visiting in the neighborhood. He was a gift from me to my bride for our tenth wedding anniversary, and he’s totally a mama’s boy who pays absolutely no attention to anything I have to say. Not surprisingly, though, The Mull ratted him out every time he escaped, racing back to report the break-out with agitated barking and a look of complete disgust on her pretty face. It was my wife who pointed out the obvious about my beautiful second-chance dog. “She could easily slip through that fence and take herself hunting any time she likes. But she knows it would make you crazy and break your heart if anything happened to her. ” She’s right, of course. Even more telling perhaps, after seven years together, the leash is no longer necessary. The Mull responds to my voice as if she understands everything I say to her, which is a better average than any of our grown children. I’ve heard it said that rescued dogs have a gratitude and loyalty you can see and feel every day. In truth, few things have brought me more contentment and joy than my friendship with my foundling dog. The funny thing is, I may have saved her from a dangerous highway. But she really rescued me on the busy highway of life. OH Jim Dodson is O.Henry’s editor and The Mull our magazine’s mascot.

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Butchy

A birthday I’ll never forget and a dog that’s still alive in my heart By James Colasanti

S

ome birthdays just happen, just another day of getting older, another day of the Earth spinning around the sun. Others remain as an indelible imprint on the history of our life. My dog Butchy, my loving parents and the simple pleasures that only attend our youngest years combined to make my ninth birthday truly unforgettable. My mother tells me that several days after I was born in 1949, my father, James Sr., was holding me in his left arm. In his right arm he was holding my first dog, Butchy, a 6-week-old-black, white and tan terrier-hound mix. She had been a baby shower gift to my parents from a family friend who knew that every growing boy needed a companion to be at his side. Feeling that she was just too feisty to have a girl dog’s name, my father had named her Butchy. “You know, Maria,” my father told my mother, Mary, “there is just a little bit of heaven born in each and every dog. It is this ‘bit’ that gives every dog his or her unconditional love — that special love that is shared with each special owner. And it is always your first dog who teaches you about life — things that will always remain with you.” Mom says Butchy licked my face and it was from that day forward that we

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would form a bond that would be unlike any other that I would ever know with any other dog. But it was my ninth birthday that proved to be the one I would never, ever forget. It was a much less complicated time. These were the carefree days when we left our doors unlocked and our car keys in the ignition. We were not afraid to invite strangers into our home. In addition, it was the “birth” of the Hula-Hoop, a fad central to the events that took place on Friday, May 23, 1958, my ninth birthday. Butchy had reached that age several weeks earlier. She was like an older sister who always looked out for me. I wanted a red Schwinn bicycle and had been dropping hints for the past month. I persisted about the bike. My father had told me, “Persistence always wins out. Always! If you quit, you’ll have nothing to show for it. And there is no shame in trying and failing.” As Butchy and I rounded the hallway into the kitchen that morning, my mother said to me, “I suppose you’ll be wanting a cake for your birthday.” This charade usually began a week before my birthday and continued until the very day she brought out her Sicilian hazelnut cake, topped with cannoli cream frosting and crowned with blazing candles. My mother’s posing would have made Laurence Olivier proud even on a bad day. The Art & Soul of Greensboro


“We may need to have an extra big cake this year,” I said. “And why is that exactly?” she asked, never flinching for a moment. “Butchy and I want to have a Hula-Hoop contest in the driveway on Saturday morning, the day after my birthday. And we would like to invite some people over.” Then I blurted out, “You know, if we did it right, I’ll bet I could get the mayor to come over and be a judge,” getting more and more excited about my own inspired idea. And then Butchy barked in agreement. “Oh, by the way, the W.T. Grant Store on Main Street is having a sale on Schwinn bicycles,” I said nonchalantly as Butchy and I raced out the back door to seek out my father. He was cultivating the back garden near the three fruiting pear trees. “Dad, how about something big this year to celebrate my birthday?” I began. “And just what did you have in mind?” he asked with an anxious look. He was well aware that I was the creator of some extraordinarily wild schemes. “I’m thinking a city-wide Hula-Hoop contest with Mayor Bellinger as the judge.” “Have you asked your mother?” he inquired. “Yeah, she’s all for it!” “Are you sure?” he asked. “Well, at least she didn’t say no! I just have to take care of the arrangements. But I can handle it. And Butchy will help me.” Invitations were addressed to friends and family acquaintances, the mayor’s office, the local newspaper — and even one to the local radio station in hopes it might announce the event. Butchy licked the envelopes. The sun shone brightly on that Saturday morning, May 24th. Three long banquet tables lined the uppermost part of the driveway where the procession of Hula-Hoop contestants was to begin. The only seats available were twelve prime viewing chairs. Streamers lined the fence separating us from our neighbors. American flags were scattered intermittently among the festive decorations. It was a sight to behold. Guests and contestants began arriving as early as 10 a.m. with the actual event scheduled to begin at 11. By 10:30 there were 150 people congregating in our backyard. At 11 there were over 200. My father glanced worriedly at my mother and said to her, “I think we’re gonna need more cake.” Butchy was making the rounds inspecting and sniffing all of the newcomers. At 11 a.m. sharp, the strains of “Pomp and Circumstance” flooded the backyard from my little 33 1/3 rpm record player, which was cranked up to full blast. The distortion was horrific, but at that point no one seemed to care. Excitement was in the air. Butchy — first in line — led the parade of contestants by hopping on her back paws down the driveway while holding a red Hula-Hoop in her mouth. My father had taught her this trick a few days before the contest. She then brought the hoop over to me and together we proudly stood next to the mayor. Next, each contestant strode forth from the garage entering the middle section of the driveway. My father hurriedly took the needle off the record and replaced the vinyl disc with an LP of extended-play Hula-Hooping music. The contest began. The winner would be the contestant who was able to keep the hoop spinning the longest. For what seemed like eternity (but was actually only twenty minutes) the colorful hoops spun in the air — each contestant striving to keep his or hers aloft until at least sundown. But, in the end, only pigtailed Cathy Thompson was able to keep her hoop spinning.

She was awarded a handmade gold-foil crown and a twenty-five dollar gift certificate to the W.T. Grant Store. After the contest, as the crowd milled about, I noticed that some gifts had been placed on one of the banquet tables. My heart sank, for I knew there was no way a two-wheel bicycle could fit in any box that small. I tore off the emerald green ribbon, taking most of the wrapping paper with it. The disappointment deepened. Underwear and socks — what were they thinking? I thought, and what an embarrassment. But still I smiled. Appearances were everything. “OK, everyone gather around the table to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ before all of these candles start a fire!” shouted my mother. The guests circled and a chorus of “Happy Birthday” rang out, echoing throughout the neighborhood. It was not harmony at its best. Out of my line of sight, my father and Butchy were coming down the inside steps of the garage. Butchy walked steadfastly by his side, stopping when they reached the back of the group of people. And then there it was — like the parting of the Red Sea, the crowd separated as my father with Butchy walked through wheeling a brand new shiny red Schwinn bicycle complete with a light, a horn and a basket. I looked up in total disbelief with tears welling in the corners of my eyes and the final refrain of “Happy Birthday To You” ringing in my ears. Even though the local newspaper reported that Cathy Thompson was the winner that day, she wasn’t. I was. And the prize was not something that could rust or get a flat — it was a perfect memory of a perfect day. It was a birthday shared with Butchy, the dog I grew up with, the dog who was my best friend, who now lives on forever in my heart. And it was the saga of a Hula-Hoop contest that I would recount to this very day. OH A past president of the Animal Rescue & Foster Program of Greensboro, James Colasanti Jr. has won the Maxwell Medallion, given by the Dog Writers Association of America, three times. He and his five rescued dogs can be reached at onegooddog1@yahoo.com.

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Story of a House

Lady Jane Gorrell Downsizes

A renowned Greensboro designer makes a big move to a smaller place By Cynthia Adams • Photographs by Laura L. Gingerich

J

ane Gorrell, whose name reaches back to the earliest Greensboro families, could have her pick of homes. Now, in the spirit of less is more, she’s picking something smaller, easier. “A lock and leave,” she smiles. But she won’t leave the “big house” until she puts her unique design stamp on the new place. It will bear the imprimatur of someone who enjoys challenge and change as much as good design. And so, Gorrell stands inside the foyer of a white brick two-story with attached garage as painters spackle drywall, while others scrape off wallpaper. The much newer residence is literally down the street — only half a mile from “the big house,” as everyone has taken to calling it. At 4,400 square feet, her current home at 206 Sunset Drive adjacent to the 14th hole at the Greensboro Country Club is arguably one of Irving Park’s oldest and prettiest. The 1915 house is large, but by neighborhood standards, realistic. The Mediterranean villa was designed by Raleigh James Hughes for Dr. Parren Jarboe and is architecturally significant. It is now painted the original color, a soft seashell pink with white on its abundant trim and trellises. “It used to be a battleship gray color,” says Gorrell, whose contractor discovered the pastel color beneath layers of old paint. Paul Davis says the original blueprints for the historic home were available to consult. “I also still have the original watercolor painting of the house,” adds Gorrell. “Both will remain here with the house.” Only one other comparable Greensboro house exists, one near UNCG in College Park. Both are mentioned in Marvin J.G. Brown’s Greensboro: An Architectural Record. “It looks like a wedding cake,” someone breathes. It is, in fact, a confection of a house, and pretty enough to eat, but Gorrell has determined she wants something considerably smaller. Her two daughters live on the West Coast, and Gorrell misses them. She wants to be able to literally lock up and leave frequently. “The girls love it out West, and won’t be returning,” she explains. The big house had plenty of room for guests, but it is Mom who plans to fly the coop and travel. It is a classic tale of an empty nester, and one whose lifestyle is changing. Gorrell is a designer, who operates the design firm JGorrell Designs Inc. She has a retail space at Blvd on North Elm Street in downtown Greensboro, brimming with antiques and artwork. She has also worked within the nonprofit sector, and several years ago moved to Washington, D.C., where she lived in historic Georgetown. Gorrell

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Left: Jane Gorrell in the “old house” with her shih tzu, Jefferson, whose name is a double reference to Thomas Jefferson and Jefferson-Pilot. The throne? A silk-covered French chair that came from Chinqua Penn estate in Reidsville. Right: The dining room fixture goes with Jane Gorrell wherever she lives, as, “it was one my parents bought as newlyweds in New Orleans.”

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.

was involved in charitable work, but she missed close friends and her native city, and soon returned. She is deeply rooted here. “My great-great-grandfather was John Van Lindley, and he owned several nurseries in the Pomona area and throughout Moore County,” she says. He also had an insurance company that was absorbed by Jefferson Standard. “My father [Joe Gorrell] worked for Pilot Life for around thirty years before it merged with Jefferson to become JP,” she explains. Even her 11-year-old shih tzu, Jefferson, takes his name from the company. “He’s my best buddy,” she says fondly. The townhouse Gorrell has chosen for the second act of her life is nearby at 202 Sunset Circle and is approximately 2,400 square feet in size. Yet it seems far larger. With a soaring two-story foyer, high ceilings and well-configured flow, it is spacious and commodious. But, for an avid collector and designer, such a downThe Art & Soul of Greensboro

. . she sometimes pads around the big house, picking and choosing what furniture will make the cut . . .

sizing requires her to spend time at the front end of the move, carefully taking stock and only taking what she calls “must-haves” to her new home. During sleepless nights, Gorrell says she sometimes pads around the big house, picking and choosing what furniture will make the cut when she downsizes this summer. It is a fun project for Gorrell, very different than the restoration of the big house. She relishes the experience of redoing properties, redesigning and rethinking them, sparing them from redundancy. Contractor Davis, owner of Upfit LLC, did the restoration work on the big house on Sunset Drive, and he is again doing the cosmetic and structural changes to the townhouse on Sunset Circle. This contractor and client team work well together, although Davis says, “There’s no such thing as a flawless renovation. But by that, I mean the process.” What they shared was the same vision and well-articulated planning. At the big house, they met early mornings to discuss the work ahead. It didn’t hurt that they were already friends; Gorrell is close to Paul’s wife, Meghan Davis. The style and solidity of construction impressed the contractor. Despite its pedigree, he was excited to tackle what is rumored to be the second oldest home built in Irving Park. “I respected it,” Davis says thoughtfully, “far more than I feared it.” “The old house was well-maintained,”adds Davis. “The house couldn’t be built today.” He cites a tightly orchestrated construction style that would require all work crews working on-site simultaneously — a thing of the remote past. The major work at the historic house — the kitchen and a master bath — came together well. It was essential to make the space more usable, they agreed. What it lacked in utility, it had in solidity. The biggest job Davis faced was to reinforce the foyer to support an upper bath installation. The other changes — cosmetic ones — were also seamless. Gorrell says, “It was impressive that Paul really knows what he’s doing.” Two years ago, when Davis renovated 206 Sunset Drive, the massive job took about six months. On the very day the “sold” sign came down at the historic Jarboe house, Gorrell says Davis had his dump truck in the driveway, poised to begin demolition. Once again in March of this year, his trucks were at the site when Gorrell bought the townhouse. Gorrell, an early bird, is invigorated by morning worksite meetings and renovation projects and seems to relish the newer project now under way. Here, unlike the prior project, the changes are not as extensive. The kitchen, with an expansive center island, has a strong French look, with distressed cabinets and chicken-wire inserts in the doors. There is a pot filler at the professional stove, and countertops are made of stone and wood. Much of this remains, but distressed paint finishes will change and give way to a cleaner look. She says she is only slightly changing the kitchen’s footprint. “I’m adding French doors to flow into the dining room,” she says. The dining room overlooks a private patio, which is enclosed with brick and iron. The changes planned for the downstairs master bedroom and bath are more dramatic. “A total gutting,” says Davis. Gorrell is replacing the mantel and fireplace surround in the main living room. The oak hardwoods throughout downstairs will be restained a darker color. The foyer will wear an elegant silvery gray wallpaper. Light fixtures will change in the foyer, bathrooms and dining room. Gorrell July 2014

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Jane Gorrell worked closely with her contractor Paul Davis, owner of Upfit LLC, on both the old house and the new house. An early bird, she says she’s invigorated by morning worksite meetings and relished tackling her new townhouse at 202 Sunset Circle.

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To help those with less design experience, Jane Gorrell suggests a point of view — and a few tricks — to approach a downsizing or renovation.

is bringing in two fixtures from her foyer and dining room at the big house. The dining room fixture, she says, would go with her wherever she might live, as “it was one my parents bought as newlyweds in New Orleans.” In the new home, Gorrell has already inventoried the furniture that will make the cut. One “must” is finding a spot for a silk-covered antique French chair from the Chinqua Penn estate in Reidsville. The chair features unusual cutouts inset with cane in the lower back. “I bought it from the Pink Door after the estate auction,” she says. Other French pieces in her current living room have a designated home in the townhouse. They include a French desk, and a few occasional tables. But she also plans to incorporate acrylic ghost chairs, and other light-friendly pieces that will give the house a more youthful, contemporary aspect. For extra oomph, Gorrell is exchanging the townhouse’s overall French country style for an edgier, “cleaner look.” She will keep luxurious touches, like a leopard print runner up the staircase. A different mantel will go in the living room, providing a dramatic feature. “I love doing this,” says Gorrell. The process of redoing, improving, changing, redesigning, and unfitting allows her to use all her design chops. Standing inside the townhouse kitchen, Gorrell looks closely over a much newer set of blueprints with Davis. “This is a new house, only 10 years old,” Davis adds. “It’s a different animal.” And a great place for Gorrell to begin a new life. OH Cynthia Adams is terrified by episodes of Hoarders into cleaning her closets. She is also terrible at determining “must keeps” — and wonders if that includes old Beatles’ bubble gum cards and her great aunt’s handbags? The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry: In your case, you had already found a place and were going to a new home (roughly half the size of your present home, even though the townhouse is big) — but did you know how much square footage you had to have to make a transition viable? Should we know these details in advance, like space parameters, or just eliminate possessions in anticipation? Jane Gorrell: I would not recommend a purge until you know where you are going. I had made a pact with myself two moves ago that I would not move an attic’s worth of junk to a new attic. My attic is solely Christmas decorations and luggage and only a few odds and ends. O.H.: In your new townhome, what space-friendly qualities did you seek out? J.G.: I wanted a place with a small outdoor area and one that needed minimal updating. I had just finished a major renovation of my present home, and then several circumstances changed and I realized I was no longer in need of such a large space. The kitchen and floor plan of the new place is ideal for me, and my garden will be wonderful. O.H.: What is the one change that was most important to you in your new home? J.G.: The rooms are large for a smaller space, so there is a sense of grandeur without the square footage. I will be losing a guest room for use as a den. I don’t think I will need two guest rooms like I have now. Every space should make guests comfortable as well as me. O.H.: You are a designer, so you have a better idea than most about space. What do you suggest to clients and others about how to approach downsizing? J.G: The first step for me was to find the new location and come to terms with the fact that the new space must be more versatile in usage. The living room perhaps might be less formal since there will not be a den, etc. Once the space has been chosen then “must-takes” need to be selected. Beds, sofas, dining table, chests, and then work on deciding what secondary pieces need to be used. “Must-keeps” and “must takes” are helpful — either for value or sentimentality, and then it is just a matter of where they will go in the new home. O.H.: How do you decide where you’re going to put your “must-take-alongs”? J.G.: Some people get very hung up on “this chest has always been in my bedroom” when if it is appropriate and the size is correct, it may end up in another room. O.H.: Once you know what furnishings are keepers, what do you consider the next important step(s) in accessing the new space they will inhabit and approaching downsizing? J.G.: Once the “must keeps” are established, I still like to photograph major pieces and measure them and then “scheme out” with a floor plan where there is room for them. Some pieces may need recovering or painting since they may end up in a different room than before. O.H.: In working with others on downsizing, what is the biggest challenge for you as the designer? J.G.: Some clients like to start completely over, some prefer to recover and reuse owned pieces. Challenges have been different for every job. I am very sentimental myself and have had to face letting go of many favorite pieces. O.H.: Can you suggest a few helpful ideas for working with a designer — e.g., what can clients do to make the most of your time and abilities? J.G.: Like any other job, one hires a designer for their expertise. I asked another designer friend to give me their ideas on my new space, and we figured out what to do with a few treasured pieces that I hadn’t been able to place. A fresh perspective is always good as well as a willingness to be open to new ideas. -Cynthia Adams July 2014

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Arts & Culture

MARK YOuR CALenDARS!

Opening Reception

Friday July 11th 6-9pm

Friday July 25th 6-9 pm

Featuring the resident artist of MOSAIC: A Lifespan Studio

Featuring the fun, whimsical and colorful Animal Folk Art of Tim and Lisa Kluttz

*Raffles to benefit Red Dog Farm

Grace. Strength. Confidence.

2nd Annual Art & Bark Red Dog Farm Benefit

Just a few of the things your child can gain at The School of Greensboro Ballet.

Saturday July 26th 11-1pm

Raffles, local vendors and pets for adoption

From our Children’s Dance Program for ages 3-6, to our Ballet, Pointe, Modern and Jazz curriculum for students of all ages, Greensboro Ballet has been teaching the art and discipline of ballet for over 30 years.

Now enrolling for the 2014-15 school year. Go to www.greensboroballet.org or call 336.333.7480 for more information.

Art & Bark Kick-off

Flowers Fish & Fun Opening Reception

MOSAIC: A Life Studio is a creative studio where resident artists make pottery, paintings, and more. Artist recieve 50% from all sales.

A portion of the proceeds from any art work sold or commissioned will benefit Red Dog Farm.

We care about the ART of FRAMING! 2105-A W. Cornwallis Drive Greensboro, NC irvingparkartandframe.com • (336) 274-6717

Monday-Friday - 9:30 - 5:30 • Saturday - 10 - 4

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THE 2014 SEASON

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SATURDAY, JUNE 28

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Arts & Culture

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FESTIVAL ORCHESTRA SERIES

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Tickets available through the Triad Stage Box Office, by phone, fax or online.

phone: 336.272.0160 or 866.579.TIXX (8499) | fax: 336.274.1774 W W W. E A S T E R N M U S I C F E S T I VA L . O RG

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Fine Art • Pet Portraits Hand painted in Acrylics or Oils on Canvas

Prices start at $375.00 Will Donate 10% of painting cost to the Animal Charity of your choice

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Arts & Culture

jfbaum3@gmail.com www.FredBaumannGallery.com 336.946.2022

Save the Date! A Night of Literary Stars Sunday, September 21, 2014

Roaring 20 Flashback

s

Celebrating 90 Years

Saturday, July 12 • 11 am to 4 pm Live Jazz • Flappers & Dancing • Graveyard Ghost Tours Storytelling & Children’s Activities with Miss Tammy Tastings, Demonstrations & Vendors at the Museum Shop Hear About “Greensboro in the Roaring Twenties” Richardson Park Tours • Lunch • FREE Admission FREE Admission • Tuesday-Saturday from 10 am - 5 pm, Sunday from 2 - 5 pm www.GreensboroHistory.org • 130 Summit Avenue, Greensboro • 336-373-2043 70 O.Henry

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy. — Lope de Vega (17th century)

By Noah Salt

The Gardener’s Essential Bookshelf

“Shame on us, perhaps, for being so confused by the beauty of July. For the weather then is lovely, perhaps the loveliest of the year for those who crave warmth. There is a predictability to the brightness of the sun that one experiences in no other season, one faultless day breaking after another. There is real heat, the kind that puts an end to garden chores (for us, at least, who are not used to it) and offers a quiet, restorative day at the river. Rain still falls, but it occurs late in the day or when we are sleeping, the earth’s risen moisture returning to it as thunderstorms crashing against the mountains. Best of all, we wake some mornings to find that a cloud has settled into the garden, trapped against our hillside until the sun’s rays dissipate it in milky streams, leaving the garden wet with its moisture and every spider web silvered over.” — From The Writer in the Garden, “A Year at North Hill,” by Joe Eck and Wayne Winterrowd, edited by Jane Garmey

July’s Good Timing

Even if there weren’t so many important birthdays in July — America’s and our good ladywife’s come firstly to mind, but also Ernest Hemingway, Nelson Mandela, Ringo Starr, Dubya Bush and Bond Girl Eva Green — we love it simply because it represents the heart of summer and a nice hinge on the gardening year. It’s the longest stretch of typically clear hot weather with days that shorten by a minute or so every day as the month proceeds, peak time for family reunions and picnics and Fourth fireworks under the stars. In the garden, the showiest blooms of June are fading off, but some woodland phlox and old roses still hold their color. The Joe pye weed and Queen Anne’s lace are taking over and iridescent dragonflies seem everywhere. Founding Father Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, worked in his beloved garden at Monticello only a few days before he passed away, aptly enough, on July 4, 1826 — the fiftieth anniversary of the nation’s birth. Three hundred miles away, and only hours apart, John Adams, the only other Declaration signer to become president, also passed away — the most stunning and patriotic coincidence in the history of America. A toast to July’s amazing timing. Now, what to get the wife . . .

Dog Days and a Little Night Music

Growing up, some of us assumed summer’s infamous “Dog Days” got so named because July days are so durn hot come midsummer, dogs either go mad or crawl under the nearest porch for refuge. In fact, our thinking was on the right track. Officially the “Dog Days” commence on July 3 and wind up on August 11, indeed technically the hottest part of summer, though the name actually comes from Sirius, the so-called “Dog Star” in the constellation Canis Major — the brightest star in the night sky, which can be seen from anywhere on planet Earth on winter and spring evenings. One reason it’s more difficult to see in midsummer (though not that hard) is its close proximity to the sun, which farmers from ancient times believed made the days accordingly hotter — enough to drive a dog either mad or under the porch. And what of that most common night sound in midsummer — the evening rasp of the katydid? Many folks confuse crickets with katydids, which are related to both grasshoppers and crickets but a species all their own, nocturnal creatures from the vast tettigoniidae (pronounce that after a couple of cool summer gin and tonics) insect family that inhabit forest trees and shrubs emitting a rhythmic mating call heard prominently from deciduous woodlands and fields. Sometimes called “bush crickets,” the large insects are rarely seen by day, neatly camouflaged with their long antennae and green coloring to blend in with leaves. The Chinese consider the noble katydid a symbol of fertility and good fortune. And farmers have long used its first song in midsummer to count 90 days until the first frost. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

July 2014

O.Henry 71


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72 O.Henry

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O.Henry 73


July 2014 The Gang’s All Here

Pursuits of Happiness

4

1

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July 1

July 1–18

WRITE ’N’ BITE. Sign up now for the 4th Annual Carolina Writers Networking lunch, to be held on August 17 in Charlotte. Sponsored by Sisters in Crime of the Triad, the lunch gives scribes a chance to schmooze and present their work. Info: murderwewrite.org.

JURY DUTY. See what’s on view at Output, a juried exhibition of works by members of the Center for Visual Artists Gallery. Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7485 or greensboroart.org.

• •

THE GANG’S ALL HERE. Noon. Spanky, Alfalfa, et alii ham it up in The Little Rascals (1994), part of the Summer Swim-in Movie series. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre. com.

CONSTRUCT-IVE. 2 p.m. At Build It! kids can bring out their inner architects with Legos, Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys, while First Team 2566 Robotics Club gives a demonstration with robots. Stay for a screening of the 2005 film, Robots at 4 p.m. High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Patrick Lee Lucas, author of Modernism at Home: Edward Loewenstein’s Mid-Century Architectural Innovation in the Civil Rights Era. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 7631919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Profs proffer the likes of Tomasi, Higdon and Rota at a faculty chamber music recital. Christ United Methodist Church, 410 North Holden Road, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

• • Art

Music/Concerts

74 O.Henry

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Key:

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Performing arts

July 1–July 20

BIG TOP TABLEAUX. Clowns and acrobats are still on view in The Greatest Show on Earth: Circus Imagery from the Collection. Weatherspoon Art Museum, corner of Spring Garden and Tate Streets, Greensboro. Info: 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

July 2

EMF! 7 p.m. It’s a pas de deux as EMF & Greensboro Ballet Collaboration feature Serenade. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 3

EMF! 8 p.m. Here a little Russian percussion — Glinka, Rimsky-Korsakov and Stravinsky — at the TannenbaumSternberger Young Artists Orchestra Series concert. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue,

• • Film

Literature/Speakers

• • Fun

History

Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 4

PURSUITS OF HAPPINESS. 9:30 a.m. Food, beer, rides, four stages of live entertainment, a Freedom Run . . . at 40 years old, the Fun Fourth Festival, the Gate City’s Independence Day celebration, is forever young. Downtown Greensboro. Info: funfourthfestival.org.

BARGAIN BOOKS. 10 a.m. Shop for used tomes at the Scuppernong Used Book Sale. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

MUSIC IN THE PARK. 7:30 p.m. The Greensboro Philharmonia delivers classical and pops before going out with a bang at the Fun Fourth Fireworks Concert. White Oak Amphitheatre, Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 West Lee Street, Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov.

EMF! 8 p.m. The young ’uns are at it again: The Tannenbaum-Sternberger Young Artists Orchestra Series presents Saint-Saëns and Mahler. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

Sports The Art & Soul of Greensboro


July Arts Calendar July 4–9

THROWDOWN. 3:30 p.m. (doors open at 3 p.m.). Shake, rattle and roll at Summer Slamboree, featuring the Hemispheres, Born Hollow, the Hexxes and more. The Blind Tiger, 1819 Spring Garden Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 2729888 or theblindtiger.com.

HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. NewBridge Bank Park, 408 Bellemeade Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 268-2255.

July 5

EMF! 8 p.m. Violinist Elmar Oliveira pulls some strings for a concert of Humperdink, Barber and Bartók. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival. org.

EMF! 8 p.m. Son of Erin, Sir James Galway, toots his flute for an evening of Dvořák, Mozart and more. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

MAHER-DY HAR HAR. 8 p.m. To call him irreverent would be an understatement. Comedian Bill Maher of Politically Incorrect and Real Time brings his scathing wit to the stage. War Memorial Auditorium, Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 West Lee Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

July 5–October 12

HALLELUJAH! See how religious references found their way into 20th century artwork at Shouts of Joy and Victory: Jewish and Christian Imagery from the Collection. Weatherspoon Art Museum, corner of Spring Garden and Tate Streets, Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

July 7

org.

A Small World 7/

TGIF — NOT! Noon. Summer Swim-in Movies presents Freaky Friday (2003), starring Lindsay Lohan (before she was LiLo) and Jamie Lee Curtis. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

19

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Ties do bind in the 1972 Alfred Hitchcok thriller, Frenzy. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

July 13

July 11

July 8

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Nelson Stover, activist and author of Through Three Portals. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Brahms, Gershwin and Dvořák fill the bill at a faculty chamber music recital. UNCG School of Music, Theatre and Dance Recital Hall, 100 McIver Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival. org.

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Slashin’ and hackin’ are the name of the game. No, it’s not a film critic’s convention, but 1980’s Friday the 13th. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre. com.

EMF! 8 p.m. A faculty chamber music recital serves up Mozart, Muller-Zurich, Krommer and Schoenfeld. Christ United Methodist Church, 410 North Holden Church, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival. org.

July 9

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. They’re comin’ to ya, on a dusty road. Jake and Elwood Blues (John Belushi and Dan Ackroyd) wreak havoc in The Blues Brothers (1980). Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Aria ready for EMF & Greensboro Collaboration? Accompany the performers in “Sing to Love,” from Act 2 of Johann Strauss’s Die Fledermaus, as well as show tunes from West Side Story, Kismet and more. Temple Emanual, 1129 Jefferson Road, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 10

SUMMER FILM FEST. 6:30 p.m. Whiz kids abound in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Tannenbaum-Sternberger Young Artists Orchestra performs Elgar, Sibelius and Franck. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.

• •

EMF! 8 p.m. What is the sound of youth? Shostakovich. Hear the Tannenbaum-Sternberger Young Artists Orchestra perform. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 11–September 6

HOCUS FOCUS. Five photographers explore various facets of Chinese culture in Light on China. Greenhill, 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org.

July 12

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 3 p.m. Meet Barbara Birge, great-granddaughter of Julius C. Birge, whose account of traveling across the American West, The Awakening Desert, was published 100 years ago. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks. com.

MUSIC IN THE PARK. 6:30 p.m. EMF Young Artist Orchestras offer up a little night music, thanks to the generosity of VF Corporation. Founders Lawn, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov.

July 14

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Beware the dining car — unless you have a taste for murder. Alfred Hitchcock’s 1951 thriller Strangers on a Train is leaving the station. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Telemann, Schumann and Tchaikovsky are on tap for a faculty chamber music recital. UNCG School of Music, Theatre, and Dance Recital Hall, 100 McIver Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival. org.

••

July 15

• •

INK-A DINKA, DO! 10 a.m. Where there’s a quill there’s a way: Learn how to write with a feather pen, using homemade walnut ink. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org. IRON AGE. 10 a.m. A costumed blacksmith gets fired up. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point, Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org. JAZZ AGE(D). 11 a.m. Twenty-three skidoo and hot-cha, baby! Celebrate the Greensboro Historical Museum’s 90th anniversary with dancing flappers, live jazz, storytelling, graveyard ghost tours, crafts and refreshments. Greensboro Historical Museum, 130 Summit Avenue, Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2043 or greensborohistory.org.

BEER HERE. 2:30 p.m. Here are sixteen reasons to come to the Summertime Brews Festival at the Coliseum: Red Oak, Duck Rabbit, Foothills, Liberty, Mother Earth, Boone Brewing, Raleigh Brewing, Olde Mecklenburg, Natty Greene, Eel River, Allagash, Founders, Great Divide, Smuttynose, Dogfish Head and Terrapin. Tickets: http://www.summertimebrews.com

Key: The Art & Soul of Greensboro

ART FEST 1 p.m. Come to the site where Palmer Memorial Institute was founded in 1902 for an African American Arts Festival. Billed as family-friendly, the free event will feature vendors, exhibitors and performers celebrating the African American artistic tradition. Charlotte Hawkins Brown Museum, 6136 Burlington Road, Gibsonville. Advance tickets: (336) 449-4846, chb@ncdcr.gov or nchistoricsites.org/chb

• • Art

Music/Concerts

Performing arts

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Sex, drugs, rock ’n’ roll . . . Cameron Crowe’s 2000 coming-of-age flick, Almost Famous, is a teenager’s dream. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com. EMF! 8 p.m. Mozart, Schumann and MacDowell’s Century Dances are on the lineup for a faculty chamber music recital. Christ United Methodist Church, 410 North Holden Road, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival. org.

July 15–21

HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. On Thursdays, plan to be thirsty. NewBridge Bank Park, 408 Bellemeade Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 268-2255.

• • Film

Literature/Speakers

• • Fun

July 2014

History

Sports

O.Henry 75


Summer Camp

July Arts Calendar July 16

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. It’s sombrero time: Chevy Chase, Steve Martin and Martin Short star in ¡Three Amigos! (1986). Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

in the

July 28 - August 1 9:00 am - 1:00 pm Grades 3-5 & Grades 6-8 (as of Fall 2014) peratcamper Closing Concert $40 - Friday 1:00 pm Classes in drama, visual arts, world instruments and sacred dance!

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EMF! 7 p.m. Viva Vivaldi! Temple Emanuel, 1129 Jefferson Road, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 17

SUMMER FILM FEST. 6:30 p.m. It’s the best of times — bar nun — as the hills and the theater literally come alive at The Sound of Music sing-along. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre. com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Copland’s Appalachian Spring, Cooper’s Appalachian Autumn and Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegels Lustige Streiche are the sounds coming from the TannenbaumSternberger Young Artists Orchestra. Dana College, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 18

BOOKS, BITES AND BOOZE. 6:30 p.m. Don some cocktail attire, and mix and mingle with the literati and glitterati at a Preface Party, a fundraiser where the lineup of authors and programs will be announced for September’s BookMarks Festival. Old Salem Visitors Center, 900 Old Salem Road, Winston-Salem. Tickets: (336) 747-1471 or bookmarksnc.org.

TWO-DAY SHOW. 7 p.m. See the entries in the 48 Hour Film Project, showcasing movies made in 48 hours by filmmakers from cities around the world. Greensboro’s Best Of films will be shown in the auditorium. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Melody Moezzi, author of Haldol and Hyacinths; A Bipolar Life. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 7631919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. The Tannenberg-Sternberger Young Artists Orchestra tackles Respighi/Rossini’s La Boutique Fantastique, and Bernstein’s Symphony No. 2. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 19

MARCH OF TIME. 9 a.m. If you missed it last month, now’s your second chance: A walking tour of historic Washington Street, an epicenter of black culture and entertainment during segregation. High Point. To reserve, call the High Point Museum: (336) 885-1859.

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76 O.Henry

July 2014

w w w. r e e l s e a fo o d g r i l l . c o m

FAIR PLAY. 10 a.m. Celebrate life among Quakers and the early settlement of Jamestown as the High Point Museum presents a Village Fair. Mendenhall Meeting House, City Lake Park, High Point. Info: (336) 454-3819.

A SMALL WORLD. 1 p.m; 4 p.m. A princess who doles out presents, a swashbuckling pirate and his peeps — with appearances by Cinderella, Tinker Bell and Peter Pan . . . It must be Disney Junior Live On Tour! Pirate & Princess Adventure. War Memorial Auditorium, Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 West Lee Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Pianist Jon Kimura Parker presents the world premiere of Corigliano’s Lullaby, along with Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a theme of Paganini and Stravinsky’s Petrushka.

•• •

• • • • •

Key: Art Music/Concerts Literature/Speakers Fun

Performing arts Film History Sports

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Old & New

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Saturdays 11-3pm Sundays 1-4pm Wednesdays 5-8pm

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O'Henry July 2014.indd 2

6/6/14 12:20 PM

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North Elm Animal Hospital

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Look for our blue boxes at the following distribution points: Cultural Arts Center

Fish Bones

200 N. Davie St.

2119 Walker Ave.

Friendly & Elm

5707 W. Friendly Ave

Junior League Bargain Box Natty Greene’s 345 S. Elm St.

Across from the Carolina Theatre

For a complete list of distribution points, please visit our website at www.ohenrymag.com

336-545-3400

315 S. Greene St.

Jams Deli

NC Farmers Market (Colfax) Lox Stock & Bagel 2439 Battleground Ave.

Mark Holder Jeweller 211 State St.

Triad Stage

Sister’s Jewelry

Across from Civil Rights Museum

US Post Office 4615 High Point Rd. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market

232 S. Elm St.

134 S. Elm St.

Smith Street Diner

438 Battleground Ave.

Corner of Elm & Bellemeade UPS/FED EX 102 N. Elm St.

Old Town Draught House

330 Tate St.

501 Yanceyville Street

K & W Cafeteria

3710 S. Holden Rd.

Zack’s Hot Dog’s

201 W. Davis St., Burlington

1205 Spring Garden St.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

July 2014

O.Henry 77


modern furniture made locally

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78 O.Henry

July 2014

20% of New clieNt reveNue Goes to suPPort childreN’s home societY Online BOOking bY PhoNe: 336.306.8417 www.alladsaloN.com

|

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 20

D.I.Y. 2 p.m. To self-publish or go the traditional route, that is the question. Authors and editors offer pearls of wisdom at a lecture hosted by the Triad Sisters in Crime Chapter, Murder We Write. High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: murderwewrite.org.

• •

MUSIC IN THE PARK. 6 p.m. EMFfringe plays on. Founders Lawn, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov. YEAH, MON. 9 p.m. (doors open at 7 p.m.) Celebrate the season with some reggae at the Summer Breeze concert, featuring Da Stateside Lion. The Blind Tiger, 1819 Spring Garden Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-9888 or theblindtiger. com.

July 21

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. James Stewart and Kim Novak are caught up in a dizzying affair in Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958). Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. A faculty chamber music recital features Dvořák, Barber, Sheng and Brahms. UNCG School of Music, Theatre, and Dance Recital Hall, 100 McIver Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 22

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Maybe he’s just like his father . . . Prince wails and whales on his guitar, and everyone goes crazy in Purple Rain (1986). Carolina Theatre, 310 South

Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Join LIFESPAN, an organization dedicated to helping people with disabilities, as it celebrates its 40th anniversary with the release of a commemorative book, The Little Red Camera. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Hear the world premiere of Gideon Rubin’s Five Animals, as well as some Colgrass and Beethoven at a faculty chamber music recital. Christ United Methodist Church, 410 North Holden Road, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 23

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Angela Belcher Epps, author of Salt in the Sugar Bowl. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. What a set of pipes! It’s the Organ & Choral Music of Fauré and Langlais. Christ United Methodist Church, 410 North Holden Road, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 24

July Arts Calendar

July 24

EMF! 8 p.m. Hear the winner of the concerto competition, as well as the musique de Ravel, courtesy of the TannenbaumSternberger Young Artists Orchestra. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 25

EMF! 8 p.m. Hear yet more winners of the concerto competition and Debussy’s La Mer, from the TannenbaumSternberger Young Artists Orchestra. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

July 26

SPLAT! 8 a.m. Big Boys, Early Girls, German Johnsons and Homesteads are among the 350 stars of the 5th Annual Great Tomato Festival. Taste to your heart’s delight to live music. Learn about growing and canning the tasty summer fruit. And don’t miss the tomato cook-off. NC A&T State University Farm, 3136 McConnell Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 375-5876.

GOOD TIMES. 10 a.m. Video games? Who needs ’em? Try your hand at rolling hoops, races, stilts, and more at Let’s Play! a demonstration of early American games. Historical Park, High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Arrgh, Matey! Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow charms his way through Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003). Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Bill Morris, former News & Record columnist and author of newly released Motor City Burning. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

Key: Art Music/Concerts Literature/Speakers Fun

JOYFUL NOISES. 11 a.m. Bring a lawn chair and enjoy the sounds of Antonio Truyols, Unit Three and Yer Crooked Cousins at the Mendenhall July Jubilee, featuring food truck

• • • •• • • •

Performing arts Film History Sports

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July 2014

O.Henry 79


July Arts Calendar

fare, snow cones and water games. Presbyterian Church of the Covenant, 501 South Mendenhall Street, Greensboro. Info: (240) 372-1535 or antonio. truyols@gmail.com.

e Park Music in th

27

7/

SOUL MATES. 7:30 p.m. (gates open at 6:30 p.m.). Word up! R&B acts Cameo, El DeBarge and Midnight Star will attack you with their love (and their tunes). White Oak Amphitheatre, Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 West Lee Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 7453000 or ticketmaster.com.

EMF! 8 p.m. Eastern Music Festival goes out on a high note, with a performance of Brahms, Saint-Saens and Respighi, by violinist John Ehnes. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 212-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

HOUSE O’ (JITTER) BUGGIN’. 8:30. Step out to some live music at the Piedmont Swing Society’s latest ’do. A free lesson for beginners starts at 7:30. Greensboro Shrine Club, 5010 High Point Road, Greensboro. (336) 508-9998 or piedmontswingdance.org.

PICKING ON PIGS 7 p.m. The Fifth Annual Jamestown Pig Pickin’ will be at the home of Jere and Elsa Ayers in Sedgefield, with proceeds benefitting Family Service of the Piedmont. Look for UBU The Band, a display of classic cars from the ’20s and ’30s, plus both a silent and a live auction. Tickets: (336) 889-6161 ext. 1115 or www.safeandhealthyfamilies.com/pig-pickin

July 26–27

EYE CANDY. 9 a.m.; 10 a.m. Bargain hunters, collectors and shopaholics won’t lack for stimulation. Yes, it’s the return of Super Flea. Pavilion, Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 West Lee Street, Greensboro. Info: superflea.com.

July 27

(336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

July 30

• •

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet novelist Nicole Dickson, Here and Again. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Go pher some wacky golf with the 1980 comedy hit Caddyshack. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

July 30–August 2

HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. NewBridge Bank Park, 408 Bellemeade Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 268-2255.

July 31

July 28

AUTHORS, AUTHORS. 7 p.m. Join a panel discussion with authors Jennifer Thompson (Picking Cotton), Saundra Westervelt and Kimberly Cook (Life After Death Row). Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

MUSIC IN THE PARK. 6 p.m; 7:15 p.m. Do a little toe-tapping to the folk/bluegrass trio, Warren, Bodle & Allen, before throwing down with Southern rockers, Carolina Coalmine. National Military Park, Highway 220 North, Old Battleground Road, Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov.

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Alfred Hitchcock showers you with thrills and chills in the 1960 groundbreaker, Psycho. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

July 29

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. Three guys and a bachelor party? It must be The Hangover (2009). Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets:

• •

SUMMER FILM FEST. 7 p.m. There must be something in the water . . . in Steven Spielberg’s 1975 blockbuster Jaws. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

• • • •• • • • Key: Art Music/Concerts Literature/Speakers Fun

Performing arts Film History Sports

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


July Arts Calendar

WEEKLY HAPPENINGS

Mondays

BUZZING. 10 a.m. Your busy little bees engage in a Busy Bees preschool program focusing on music, movement, garden exploration and fun in the kitchen, at the Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. Preregistration: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com

CROONING. 9 p.m. Join Alan Patterson and three artists each week for Singer/Songwriter Night. Free. The Blind Tiger, 1819 Spring Garden Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 272-9888 or theblindtiger.com.

Tuesdays

BLINDED BY SCIENCE. 4 p.m. See hands-on demonstrations at the Whiz Kidz Science Club, for third to fifth graders. Registration required. High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.

CHICKEN’N’PICKIN’ 6:30 – 9:30 p.m. Y’all come for Skillet Fried Chicken & Songs from a Southern Kitchen. Tuck into Chef Jay’s signature fried chicken with gravy, plus live music by Molly McGinn on July 1, Laurelyn Dossett and Scott Manring on July 8 and 15; Martha Bassett and friends on July 22; and Molly McGinn on July 29 — at Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen, 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/fried_chicken.htm.

Wednesdays

TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 8 a.m.–12:30 p.m. Get fresh with locally grown produce, cakes, pies and cut fleurs for a pretty table. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville Street, Greensboro. Info: gsofarmersmarket.org.

MOVIES FOR MINORS. 9:30 a.m.–12 p.m. The Carolina Kids’ Club offers G-rated fare with The Rugrats Movie (7/9), Curious George (7/16), The Jetsons (7/23), and A Troll in Central Park (7/30). Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre. com.

MAGIC TREE HOUSE BOOK CLUB. 11 a.m. Schoolaged kids will discover plenty of ways to explore Mary Pope Osborne’s The Magic Tree House series. Registration required. High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.

TASTY TUNES. Noon to 1:30 p.m. Brown-bag it or order from a food truck and enjoy free, live music. Tunes @ Noon presents Sam Frazier (7/2); Wickerbach (7/9); Donna Hughes (7/16); Laura Jane Vincent (7/23); and Clay & Benjy (7/30). City Center Park, 200 North Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: citycenterpark.org.

ONCE UPON A TIME. Preschool Storytime (for 3- to 5-year-olds) High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary. com.

MUSSELS, WINE & MUSIC. 7–10 p.m. Mussels with house-cut fries for $15, wines from $10–15 a bottle and live music by Evan Olson and Jessica Mashburn — at Print Works Bistro, 702 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 379-0699 or printworksbistro.com/live_music.htm.

Thursdays

• •

JAZZ NIGHT. 7 p.m. Fresh-ground, fresh-brewed coffee is served with a side of jazz at Tate Street Coffee House, 334 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 275-2754. FOOD FLICKS. 7 p.m. The Food for Thought Film Series serves up some tasty fare, with speakers and recipes as garnish

(July 10, 17 and 24). Weatherspoon Art Museum, corner of Spring Garden and Tate Streets, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3345770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

OPEN MIC COMEDY. 8–9:35 p.m. Local pros and amateurs take the mic at the Idiot Box, 348 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 274-2699 or www.idiotboxers.com.

Fridays & Saturdays

NIGHTMARES ON ELM STREET. 8 p.m. A 90-minute, historical, candlelit ghost walking tour of Downtown Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 905-4060 or carolinahistoryandhaunts.com/information.

Saturdays

TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 7 a.m.–1 p.m. The greens are still fresh, the pies still still yummy and the fleurs still belles — and yours if you grab ’em early. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville Street, Greensboro. Info: gsofarmersmarket.org.

IMPROV COMEDY. 10 p.m. on Saturday, plus an 8 p.m. show appropriate for the whole family. The Idiot Boxers create scenes on the spot and build upon the ideas of others, creating shows that are one-of-a-kind — at the Idiot Box, 348 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 274-2699 or www.ibcomedy. com. To add an event, email us at ohenrymagcalendar@ gmail.com by the first of the month prior to the event.

• • • •• • • • Key: Art Music/Concerts Literature/Speakers Fun

Performing arts Film History Sports

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www.DogDaysGreensboro.com July 2014

O.Henry 83


Worth the Drive to High Point Animal Magnetism

The High Point Public Library is going to be filled with animals in July, but, not to worry: all of them will be under the care of a handler. Here’s a sampling of what will be creeping, crawling or flying around the stacks during the month: • On Monday, July 14, at 11 a.m. and 6: 30 p.m., a herpetologist’s delight will be featured with Snakes Alive! Here’s your chance to pet, and even hold, a snake — or not. • On Friday, July 18, at 10:30 a.m., the theme will be All About Invertebrates, featuring a number of spineless species — millepedes, crawfish, tarantulas, scorpions and Madagascar hissing cockroaches — but no politicians. • On Saturday, July 19, at 12:30 p.m., the focus will be on Birds of Prey. Sponsored by Wild Birds Unlimited of High Point, meet live raptors and learn how these hunters of the sky do what they do in a program provided by Wildlife Rehab Inc. • On Monday, July 21, at 11 a.m. and 6:30 p.m., wildlife biologist Bob Tarter willl presents Animal Appetites. Tarter will discuss avian, reptile and mammal predators and prey. See a Eurasian Eagle Owl and Fennec Fox up close. • On Saturday, July 26, at 1 p.m., the critters will be outside the library — overhead

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in the sky. The program, however, will be indoors. Aries (the ram), Leo (the lion) , Canis Major and Minor (big and little dog), Ursa Major and Minor (big and little bear) . . . are just a few of the stellar configurations in Animal Constellations, a program for children ages 6 and up, courtesy of the N.C. Museum of Natural Sciences. • On Monday, July 28, at 3 p.m., kids will get a chance to become acquainted with the North Carolina state reptile at Meet the Box Turtle, a program presented by Piedmont Wildlife Rehab. • Finally, every Tuesday of the month, the library will focus on a creature known and loved by all — the bookworm. On July 8, 15, 22 and 29 at 10 a.m., bring children ages 12–24 months to the story room for a program geared to turn your little ones into avid bookworms. OH Registration required for some programs. Best to call in advance or check online. Info: High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com. — David Bailey

Emerywood

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Located in the Historic Sherrod Home at 1100 N. Main St., High Point 336.886.1090 | Monday - Saturday 10-6 84 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Worth the Drive to Winston-Salem

Rebel Rousin’ Bands, beer and burlesque can mean only one thing: It’s time for the 14th Annual Heavy Rebel Weekender. YAYUH! Held on Trade Street in Winston-Salem’s downtown Arts District, the three-day extravaganza (July 4–6) is an unbridled celebration of Americana and sheer, down-home fun. Could it be thatWinston-Salem’s downtown is just a little cooler, wilder and edgier than Greensboro? Read on and you decide. For instance, competitors square off to see who can guzzle the most beer in sixty seconds, gobble the most Krispy Kreme doughnuts in two minutes or emerge victorious from the mudwrestling ring (honest!). And how about the, uh, Wiggle Room, a showcase for burlesque routines, and Adam the Real Man, a Greenwich Village denizen who thrills audiences with his sword-swallowing and nosewhiskey acts? A new addition to the shenanigans is the HRW Big Wheel Race, essentially an obstacle course for oversized tricycles. It is a complement to the Custom Car Show, which brought in more than 500 vehicles last year. As in years past, the focus of the weekend is a bevvy of bands taking the stage at the Millennium Center, formerly the Twin City’s central post office, its elegant Grecian façade belying the raucous ruckus going on inside. Tending toward Southern rock and rockabilly, this year’s lineup includes Bo-Stevens; Bloodshot Bill & the Greensboro Gang;

Dexter Romweber Duo; Husky Burnette; Laura Hope and the Ark-Tones; Lucky Tubb & the Modern Day Troubadors; and the Straight 8s, just to name a few. To dial it up a notch, HRW also features a Crossroads Guitar Contest and a Slap-Off Bass Contest. And is Winston-Salem’s Downtown Arts District, or DADA, also the coolest scene in the Triad? Hop in your car and see. Grab a bite at any of the top-drawer restaurants, from soul-infused Sweet Potatoes to locavore Mary’s Gourmet Diner. Or have a glass of wine at 6th and Vine or a single-malt at the aptly named Single Brothers bar. You can peruse the paintings, sculpture, pottery, photographs, textiles and jewelry in the galleries and artists’ studios, and join a yoga or t’ai chi session most anytime, but certainly on the first Friday of every month. And on every Saturday through August 30, from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m., the Summer on Trade music series offers tunes for every taste. Bring a lawn chair and enjoy some Latin rhythms when West End Mambo takes the stage on July 12, or the smooth sounds of jazz vocalist Janice Price on July 19. And get up and shag to beach music from the Special Occasion Band on the 26th. Whatever your tastes, hot fun in the summertime is yours for the taking here. OH Info: heavyrebel.net; dadaws.org; dwsp.org – Nancy Oakley

Weddings ♦ Events ♦ Everyday

The Dog Days of Summer are

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M A G A Z I N E Find it at these High Point Locations:

• Harris Teeter, 265 Eastchester Dr. • Harris Teeter, 1589 Skeet Club Rd. • J.H. Adams Inn, 1108 N. Main St. • Shores Fine Dry Cleaning, 804 Westchester Dr. • Tex & Shirley’s, 4005 Precision Way • Theodore Alexander Outlet, 416 S. Elm St. •Vintage Thrift and Antiques, 1100 N. Main St.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

FINBKMK Ohenry Ad 2014.indd 1

July 2014

O.Henry 85

6/10/14 11:32 AM


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Photographs by Lynn Donovan Kathleen Forbes, Tim Patterson, Martha & Blaine DoBose

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86 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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©2014 BHH Affi liates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC. Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.

July 2014

O.Henry 87


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or mail payment to P.O. Box 58, Southern Pines, NC 28388 The Art & Soul of Greensboro


GreenScene

Ann & Bob Kroupa

Fire in the Triad “Got to Be NC” Dining Series –The Empire Room Monday, June 2, 2014 Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Susan Smith, Pam Duvall

Jeff & Lisa Kellner, Tom Mariani, Julie & Greg Olive Rob & Amanda Youth, Aliyah Prontaut, Kelly & Carlton Tooley, Lloyd Prontaut

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July 2014

O.Henry 89


90 O.Henry

July 2014

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Tom Gibbs, Benny Vickers, Jim Burgio, Bill Novac

GreenScene

Sandy Brady, Zack Matheny, Rob O’Hanlon

Carolina Field of Honor Triad Park, Kernersville Saturday, May 31, 2014

Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Cameron Kent, Bill Knight

Chuck Wright, Steve Winsett, Dennis Brocklan, Alan Atwell

Bruce Davis, Major General H. Lloyd Wilkerson

PFC Caleb Littleton, Private Noah Mattes, Private Chase Natarajan (General Nathanael Greene Young Marines)

William (Bill) Moss (USMC Vet & Founder of War Memorial Foundation)

Tori Kaitlyn Gross, Sierra Elizabeth Heer

Richard Nicholson, James Nicholson

Jack Masarie, Honorable Howard Coble Governor Pat McCrory, Dale Hauser (Patriot Guard), Michael Reed (Patriot Guard)

Vice Flotilla Commander Jim Cortes - USCG Auxiliary, Marilyn Fredrick (Patriot Guard)

Barbara Howard, Courtney Rudolph, Jeff Wade, Karen, Caroline & Jordan Rudolph

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

July 2014

O.Henry 91


THISTLE & SALLY

SOPHIE & STEWIE

BRUNO

BUTCH

MARLEY, CEECEE, ROSCO, NICK

MAGGIE

Doggie Photo Booth TUCKER

Every dog has a story and hopefully a human to share life’s journey.

KYLIE

O.Henry magazine and Ed Matthews of WFMY-TV’s “2 The Rescue” invited a few friends - canine and human - to drop by All Pets Considered for portraits in an oldfashioned photo booth. O.Henry rented the booth from Tarheel Photo Booth and proceeds went to the SPCA of the Triad.

QUIGLEY & BUSTER

TRUSTY

PRINCESS MIA

July 2014

ROWDY & IZZY

CHESTER

SASSY

SHADOW

92 O.Henry

ISABELLE & ONYX

Free downloads of all the photos are available: tarheelphotobooth.com

JACK

MIA

BARRON VON LUCKY

INDY

STORMI & STAR

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


OLIVE

MOLLY & MAIZR

CHARLIE

ROXIE

MOOKIE

CLOONEY

ATLAS

MILES

PONGO

BEAUREGARD

COOPER

JACKSON

MISS JEWEL BELLA

CHEVY

SUNNY

RIO BLUE

PIGLETT & MAE

BAILEY

TILLY

MIKALA & PRINCE

LUCIUS & TRIXIE

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

LUCY

July 2014

O.Henry 93


Irving Park

Sizes 4 thru 3X Tues. - Fri. 10-5, Sat. 10-4 or by appointment 1832 Pembroke Rd. • Greensboro, North Carolina 27408 www.facebook.com/Serendipity by Celeste

The Lollipop Shop is closing! Blow-out Sale!

All inventory to be sold! Great time to stock up on Spring & Summer clothes, future gifts & baby presents! Total liquidation & closing our doors July 31st

The The Lollipop Lollipop Shop Shop 94 O.Henry

July 2014

Irving Park Plaza Irving Park Plaza

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


The Accidental Astrologer

Traveling Time July’s stars are on the move

By Astrid Stellanova Everybody seems to be riding, sliding and gliding into the astral station this month. Better ask yourself if it’s the destination you planned on or the one you got fooled into by some celestial ticket agent.

Cancer (June 21—July 22) When Mercury is direct in your sign, let’s just say it is a safe bet that YOU are too. As in blunt and to the point. That is the good news on July 1. And wait — here’s a little bonus. It is a very good time to be direct, because an old love or missed opportunity arises. Seize it, baby. “If it’s for you, don’t let it get by you,” as my grandma said. After the 15th, Leo exerts a lot of financial pull for your sign. $Ca-ching, Honey$! You’re gonna be geo-caching — if that’s what going out and digging up a windfall means. Leo (July 23—August 22) I hate to talk practicalities with a Leo — that’s like speaking Cajun to the clerk at the Climax post office. It’ll get you puzzled looks but zero comprehension. But here goes anyhow: Keep your britches on, and drive the speed limit. Wear your seat belt. Check your credit rating. And own your problems. Your life may not look broken to you, but you’re gonna have to fix it anyhow. Starting today, Leo, ask yourself if being so right trumps all hope of personal happiness. Virgo (August 23—September 22) The stars are gonna blind you with a meteor shower of duckies, daisies and general, all-purpose happiness this month, especially on the 25th. The 26th is also a red letter day to mark on the calendar — everything looks bright and right. Call your friends and get the party started. You are going to have unusual pull in a lot of arenas — both in romance and career — so don’t waste one minute second-guessing or analyzing it. Just be grateful, dammit. Libra (September 23—October 22) You find something long lost this month. Something you once valued that you really need right about NOW. Here’s what it could be: a firstclass ticket on the Express Yourself Train. You gotta ticket to ride, ride, ride! A fast-tracked, special delivery of your own fool self to the state of happy, Baby! This is going to be your month to bedazzle, play and whip out the ole party plans come the full moon on the 12th. Good luck, good times and good friends are all in the stars for you. Not one single day looks dim. Scorpio (October 23—November 21) Remember how much you wanted to go cross-country in an RV? Well, move over, Winnebago! This is an excellent time to drive somewhere other than straight to Crazy Town. By the 18th, Venus enters your fifth house bringing romance, and you may find yourself with company in that Winnie. By the end of the month, a job offer might clip your wings, so skedaddle now while the going’s good. Sagittarius (November 22—December 21) A temptation gets your attention that shouldn’t after the 18th — it’s an itch you shouldn’t scratch. A slicker trickster might want you to sign the bottom line, but that don’t mean you should. Walk and don’t look back. Meanwhile, a better deal is waiting. On the 16th, something especially supercalifragilisticexpialidocious happens. Are you psychic? Are you seeing through walls? Good golly, just maybe!

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Capricorn (December 22—January 19) Celestial discharges might make it hard for you to concentrate right now. I don’t mean body odor, Baby. I mean transitions to the Great Beyond. Relationships are everything during this month. Before Mercury enters Leo at the end of the month, someone may leave you a remembrance, or even an inheritance, which you richly deserve. Stay with your instincts, and don’t get pushed around. Someone may make an offer that you thought would never come. Aquarius (January 20—February 18) You think with your pie hole open, the way a lot of people eat. But thinking is much nicer than chewing with your gums grinning at me. There’s a lot to chew over anyhow. Here’s why: Venus is in Cancer by the 18th; it makes you want to change something. New hairdo or hair don’t, won’t much matter, cause you choose change and change is choosing you. Screwing around with your hair is safer and easier to fix than running around with a married neighbor. Pisces (Feb. 19—March 20) It may have felt like someone in authority fired a warning shot straight into your brain last month. Dust off the resume, because somebody loves and wants you. Somewhere. Now you gotta march right out and find them, because the stars are kinder. July 16 and 20 are days when you will hit a target — not be one. Aries (March 21—April 19) The 25th is THE day to finally get your day. THE day — the kind that Dolly Parton sings about, when you strut yourself on down the street, shooting star power sparks right out of your heels. Heck, you are farting success right out of your backside. Remember, you’re an Aries. Even if you mess up, you will have time to fix it before most people even figure it out. But whatever you do, don’t ride through the car wash in your convertible until after August. Taurus (April 20—May 20) You get the big picture this month, starting with the full moon on the 12th. On the 15th, Jupiter enters Leo, which means a full year of fire-sign planets aligned in your sign. Fun, finances, frivolity and frolicking are yours. What you might want to do is consider a new move, job or love. And if you don’t feel like it, put it off until the day after tomorrow and eat macaroni and cheese. Gemini (May 21—June 20) Your birthday gift is delivered a bit late, but it’s a flat out lulu. By the middle of the month, Jupiter transits Leo. The twins start partying and don’t stop until August 11. Travel! Romance! Jackpots! For everybody else, it may look like moonlight and madness, but for Gemini it is going to be one crazy good time. For once, you just might get a dividend check instead of a reality check. You are ever the complex ones, my little twins. They may call you out. They may call you for breakfast. They may call your bets. But nobody, anywhere, calls you dull. OH For years, Astrid Stellanova owned and operated Curl Up and Dye Beauty Salon in the boondocks of North Carolina until arthritic fingers and her popular astrological readings provoked a new career path. July 2014

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O.Henry Ending

Pure Puppy Love It was almost a clean getaway — a pair of Bouvier pups, a baby carriage, and one Hostess Fruit Pie for the road

The anticipation that came

with welcoming a new litter never dwindled. Our basement was now equipped with a whelping box: a wooden playpen of sorts, which would soon be bustling with puppies: bouvier des flandres puppies, clean and cooing, just waiting for me to cradle them close and welcome them to the world. My young mind saw life created in an instant. Like cupcakes, I wasn’t sure how it all came together, but the end result was wonderful.

I knew that my father was thinking about champion bloodlines, a possible best-in-show winner. I only cared about the way they smelled, their sandpaper tongues across my face, and the bliss that I felt when they nuzzled close and buried their fur into my skin. Bouviers are known for many things, one of which is pulling milk carts in France. The immediate translation of that skill set to a 6-year-old meant that the powerful dog would also be capable of pulling a sled through the New England snow. Brothers and sisters piled high on the Yankee Clipper, scarves flying and mittens dragging to create artwork in the white powder. The only thing better than one dog was the potential of keeping a puppy from the new brood and then having two. On the day that the litter was born, I was quickly reminded that each adorable face was spoken for, even before conception. Apparently there were preconceived notions of the ultimate dog show and taking home the gold. Behind the scenes at Madison Square Garden is where owners and handlers scramble to create their masterpiece: work stations, cages, regal beasts on grooming tables and plenty of anxiety in the air. I always followed behind my father as he walked and provided me with a tutorial on the various breeds: their strength, agility, history and what they were born to do. His long legs often left me several feet behind, which provided ample wiggle room to linger beside the dogs and lightly rub their ears or pat a big paw. The Westminster hopefuls now had mushroom-capped heads and legs that were sculpted in the most bizarre ways. I usually offered up my condolences for the silly perms, and they concurred. Protecting my new loves from the doldrums of show-dog life set me on a mission. I carefully cushioned the baby carriage with soft blankets that I’d snatched from the linen closet. The carriage was perfect with its oversized wheels and

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July 2014

deep belly. It now housed the two remaining puppies from the magical litter: one brindle, one black, both pudgy like bears with bangs cresting over their eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Levi were scheduled to arrive with checkbook in hand, with apparent plans to capture my two pups and remove them from our home. These virtual strangers knew nothing about the needs of my bouviers. It was me who comforted them on the way to the veterinarian. A leg, arms, paws all intertwined as we slid from one side of the Country Squire Wagon to the other; each shift of direction clumsily relocating all of us. A morning fraught with veterinary discomforts often ended with a stop at Howard Johnson’s for the proverbial ice cream cone. I stood a bit taller at the counter, twisting the sticky coins in my hand, with the knowledge that it was only me who knew which yelping butterball preferred vanilla over strawberry, and I would be delivering it to them to ease the upset of the day. The intentional new owners also had no idea that lights out could be a potential disaster if the brindle pup didn’t receive a belly rub to soothe him. Oh yes, things were running delightfully smooth now, and the Levis needed to be left in the dust. I pinched and pulled on the convertible top until it was fully extended to shield the view, and I encouraged my charges to lay low while we made our escape. The handle bar was a bit high for my petite frame, and the wheels were squeaking when I so wanted them to be silent. The rims continued to catch the small bits of gravel and spit them out like BB’s from a gun. We made our way down the drive, around the side of the house and across the uneven terrain with puppy heads bobbing. I picked up the pace until we cleared the yard, reached the asphalt and sweet success. The second half of our long journey took us to where the large rocks jutted from the earth and mighty oaks provided shade. It was the ultimate hiding place. I settled back to peel the plastic from my Hostess Fruit Pie and thought about how to ration the doughy cake crusted in sugar. There were two additional mouths to feed now and I needed to be cautious. I would rest, nurse the blisters on my little fingers, which I’d nobly earned from the trip, and then camp for days if necessary. Weeks if I had to. “Barbara.” It was my father’s voice from behind. “Come back across the street and bring your friends. I believe they’re in your carriage. The Levis are here.” OH Raised around the finer breeds, Barbara Currie says she “grew up, moved to Summerfield, went straight to the animal shelter and chose a funny looking border collie/golden retriever mix that is pure perfection to me.” The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Illustration by Harry Blair

By Barbara Currie



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