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July 2016 FEATURES
53 The Wasp Nest
Poetry by Ruth Moose
54 Perfect Fried Chicken
What could be more patriotic — at least in these parts — than Southern fried chicken times three?
58 Van Gogh in Vacationland
By Nancy Oakley Artist Linda Tillman’s whimsical take on MidCentury Modern culture is the hottest thing this side of a swimming pool in paradise
64 Gaga for Googie
By Billy Ingram A sweet remembrance of the Gate City’s love affair with a far-out architectural style
68 The Power of ol’ Sol
By Ross Howell Jr. One man’s love affair with Summer’s quintessential flower
68 La Vie en Bleue
By Cynthia Adams Brooke Harwood’s French — but hardly Provincial — condo
79 Almanac
By Rosetta Fawley Plums, hammocks and fall gardens
DEPARTMENTS 9 Simple Life By Jim Dodson 12 Short Stories 15 Doodad By Ogi Overman 17 O.Harry By Harry Blair 19 Life’s Funny By Maria Johnson 21 Omnivorous Reader By Stephen Smith 25 Scuppernong Bookshelf 27 In the Neighborhood By Cynthia Adams 31 O.Henry’s Summer Picnic By Diane Compton
41 Papadaddy
By Clyde Edgerton
43 Birdwatch
By Susan Campbell
45 Wandering Billy By Billy Eye
47 Life of Jane
By Jane Borden
80 Arts Calendar 101 “Cityscapes & Architecture” By Alamance Photography Club
103 GreenScene 111 Accidental Astrologer By Astrid Stellanova
112 O.Henry Ending By Nancy Oakley
37 In the Spirit By Tony Cross
Cover Art By Linda Tillman
4 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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M A G A Z I N E
Volume 6, 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@thepilot.com Andie Stuart Rose, Art Director • andie@thepilot.com Nancy Oakley, Senior Editor • nancy@ohenrymag.com Lauren Shumaker, Graphic Designer Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer CONTRIBUTING EDITORS Cynthia Adams, Harry Blair, Maria Johnson CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS Alamance Photography Club, Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Sam Froelich CONTRIBUTORS Jane Borden, Susan Campbell, Diane Compton Tony Cross, Clyde Edgerton, Billy Eye, Rosetta Fawley, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Sarah King, Meridith Martens. Ruth Moose, Ogi Overman, Stephen Smith, Astrid Stellanova David Claude Bailey, Editor at Large
O.H
David Woronoff, Publisher ADVERTISING SALES Ginny Trigg, Sales Director 910.693.2481, ginny@thepilot.com Hattie Aderholdt, Sales Manager 336.601.1188, hattie@ohenrymag.com Lisa Bobbitt, Sales Assistant 336.617.0090, ohenryadvertising@thepilot.com
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Brad Beard, Graphic Designer
Lisa Allen, 336.210.6921 • lisa@ohenrymag.com Amy Grove, 336.456.0827 • amy@ohenrymag.com CIRCULATION Darlene Stark, Circulation Director 910.693.2488 SUBSCRIPTIONS 336.617.0090 ©Copyright 2016. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. O.Henry Magazine is published by The Pilot LLC
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6 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Simple Life
Treasures From a Vanishing World By Jim Dodson
Not long ago, while taking a back road
home from the coast, I rounded a curve and saw a handsome old farmhouse sitting in an overgrown field, clearly abandoned, with wild roses claiming one end of its sagging porch.
Ignoring a rapidly approaching thunderstorm, I pulled off the road to sit and look at the house, wondering about the people who once called such a beautiful old place home. I saw birds — swifts or starlings, I think — flying in and out of its flower-wreathed porch and thought of a recent conversation with a friend who roams the rural landscape of this state salvaging architectural pieces and forgotten artifacts from abandoned houses and farms, everything from doorknobs to bathtubs, barn doors to family Bibles, broken gates to foundation stones. He calls his finds “treasures from a vanishing world,”provocatively insisting that these ordinary objects and pieces of abandoned habitats not only bear the spiritual imprint of their former human associations, but also deep ancestral memories. “You can see them everywhere,” he says, “old houses sitting off in the woods, barns abandoned to make way for housing developments or wider highways for a society that can’t get there fast enough. “Such sights should haunt us,” he adds with the fervor of an evangelical preacher. “We’re throwing away our nation’s natural history, destroying our heritage piece by piece, forgetting who we are and where we come from. It’s a tragedy, something everyone who is truly patriotic ought to care about.” He showed me a beautiful bell salvaged from an abandoned schoolhouse near the town I regularly pass through. The craftsmanship was superb. “The schoolhouse was made from the finest red brick, built by real craftsmen in a time when that meant something special, pride of hand, probably from the early 1930s, the heart of the Great Depression. It had charming wooden windows and handmade doors and an actual cupola. You could almost hear the voices coming from that empty schoolhouse — the place where kids learned to read and do their multiplication tables, memorized the fifty states and Pledge of Allegiance and fell in love with a girl or boy seated near them. Today saplings are growing through the floor of that beautiful old building, the wind whistling through its busted-out windows.” Like my friend Rick, I spend a lot of time driving the back roads of this state, looking at the land and noticing abandoned fields and places where someone once raised a family, birthed a child, waited for the passing of a loved one, or simply sat on a summer porch snapping beans in the long summer dusk the way my grandmother Taylor loved to do. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
My reverence for small-town values and winding back roads — the slow way home, as I call it — is unapologetically romantic and lately seems almost as endangered as Rick’s old schoolhouse bell, somehow connected to the soul of our collective patriotism. What we worship, a wise man once told me sitting on his sagging porch in Vermont, we become. (But more on him in a slow lane moment.) Every road I travel nowadays seems to be in a state of constant construction, half-built and ever widening to obliterate nature and anything that happens to be in in its path, reminding me of my own vanished heritage. Four generations back the patriarch of my family operated a vital gristmill on the banks of the Haw River and worked as a contract surveyor for the state, plotting out the boundaries of several central counties just after the Civil War. This man somehow found time to also serve as an itinerate Methodist preacher traveling from one rural parish to another, Piedmont to western hills, preaching the Gospel. One winter afternoon a few years ago, my wife and I found George Washington Tate’s headstone in the burying ground of a small Alamance County church. It was simple, dignified, garnished only by moss and time. He and his wife lay side by side. It would have pleased me to show my Yankee wife the remains of G.W. Tate’s once thriving gristmill on the banks of the Haw, but it was no longer there or simply hidden from view. As a kid, I saw it several times and even fished from the stones of its original millrace, feeling as connected to that place as if it were consecrated earth. Today, you cannot find this spot because the Interstate was doubled in size two decades ago, swallowing my great-great-grandfather’s gristmill whole. As I sat on the shoulder of the roadside feeling the wind rise from the approaching storm and pondering the fate of that elegant old farmhouse that’s now a home to birds and wild roses, fancifully wishing I could find a way to magically save it, perhaps by starting an Old Farmhouse Rescue League, another voice popped into my head — the one warning that what we worship, we become. It belonged to Reverend William Sloan Coffin, the former CIA man, Yale chaplain, firebrand preacher and longtime civil rights and peace activist. On a spring day in 1991 I found my way to his rural Vermont farmhouse door for a conversation about patriotism. He poured me a cup of coffee and we sat down at a table in his kitchen. Lying between was the latest copy of Time magazine, its cover proclaiming “A Time to Savor.” Just days before, the First Gulf War had officially ended and flags were flying from porches along the main street of his tidy Vermont town. Coming on the heels of the end of the so-called Cold War, America was in the grip of patriotic fever, eager to start spending what some called the country’s hard-earned “Peace Dividend” on much-needed domestic issues. Time once called Rev. Bill Coffin “America’s Last Peacenik.” I asked him if he savored this time in America. Coffin smiled and pointed out that the Japanese had actually won the Cold July 2016
O.Henry 9
Simple Life War and insisted that the much-publicized “peace dividend” was mostly being spent to develop new and better ways of obliterating any future enemies at the expense of America’s working poor and homeless. He added that pollution was destroying our rivers and other natural resources and mentioned mindless urban sprawl that was killing small towns and obliterating the night stars. I joked that he didn’t sound much like a true patriot — more like a grumpy uncle. The famous preacher grinned and boomed back, “On the contrary! I’m an incurable patriot! True patriots are those who carry on not a grudge fight but a lover’s quarrel with their country — a reflection, if you will, of Gods’ eternal lover’s quarrel with the human race. The two things you must not be, as a true patriot, are a loveless critic and an uncritical lover.” He added that our history was his source of hope and patriotism. “Plato said, ‘Whatever is honored in a country will be cultivated there.’ My version of that is, whatever we worship we become. Unfortunately, our society worships professional athletes and better highways. “But if you look at when this country got started as a nation, with something like just three million people, we managed to turn out Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton, Franklin and Adams — a list of great thinkers as long as your arm. Now, with a population eighty times as large, you have to ask yourself why we can’t turn out one statesman of that caliber.” Before I could pose another question, he sipped his coffee and added, “American democracy is such a precious thing. For the moment I fear it’s in grave condition. Half the population feels it’s useless to vote — they feel their voices don’t matter, and they’re probably right. Every night 100,000 children sleep on the streets of this nation, the wealthiest in the history of the world. And 37 million Americans go to bed with no more health insurance than a fervent prayer that they will awaken in decent health in the morning.”
He shook his head as we walked back out to his porch. “The gaps between the classes are widening dangerously — the very rich and the very poor are effectively seceding from America, I fear.” “So, I gather you’re not really optimistic about the next twenty-five years,” I prodded. Coffin laughed. “On the contrary! I’m always an optimist. Hope is a distinctly Christian idea and America is a place founded by farming optimists! Optimism is in our DNA — and so is diversity. Patriotism should not be based on agreement. It’s based on mutual concern. When hearts are one, all minds don’t need to be. In a democracy, God help us if all minds are one. “Tell you what,” he declared, “come back and see me in twenty-five years and we’ll both see if anything has changed for the better. What year will that be?” “Two thousand sixteen,” I said, hurriedly working out the math in my head. At that moment the year 2016 seemed light years away. He gave me a final robust grin. “Right. This house is 200 years old and I’ll only be 92. Hopefully we’ll both still be here. I’ll wager the roads in Vermont will be whole lot better, too.” We laughed and said goodbye. Sadly, I never got back to Bill Coffin’s farmhouse. Like a treasure from a vanishing world, America’s last peacenik passed away in 2006, the year my wife and I officially moved home to North Carolina. But I never forgot the things he told me that spring afternoon. As I sat in a kind of reflective daze by the side of the road, a bolt of lightning hit a tree in the distance and the rain came down with a Biblical vengeance. The birds flew away and I drove on, passing a roadside notice that said the road was scheduled for widening sometime later this summer. OH Contact editor Jim Dodson at jim@ohenrymag.com.
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10 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Short Stories
Harry Plotter
If you’re having Game of Thrones withdrawal, binge on the Bard with Henry IV, Part I, with Drama Center’s Summer Shakespeare in the Park production at Gateway Gardens (2924 East Gate City Boulevard). Among the most popular in Shakespeare’s canon, “One Henry Four,” if you’ll recall, has an aging King Henry worried about advancing armies, an uncooperative and hot-headed ally, Hotspur, and his wastrel son Prince Harry, who loves to spend his days imbibing and wenching in taverns with his buddy Falstaff. Does the young prince have what it takes to be king? Find out July 28–31. Tickets: (336) 335-6426 or thedramacenter.com.
Piercing
Release your inner Katniss Everdeen — or Robin Hood, or Cupid — at a series of archery clinics, courtesy of Greensboro Parks and Recreation. Held at Hester Park (3615 Deutzia Road) every first and third Thursday of July (the 7th and 23rd — and continuing through September), the two-hour sessions are open to anyone 8 years old on up, beginner or advanced. For a fee of $25, you’ll learn range safety and shooting techniques and how to size the equipment (which is provided, by the way). But don’t get too — heh — arrow-gant with that quiver and try any William Tell stuff: You could put someone’s eye out with that thing. To register: Call Remy Epps at (336) 373-3741.
Glass Act
The colorful, translucent glass of Venice, Italy, appeals to just about everyone. And if you’re one of the world’s pre-eminent glass artists? Then expect the muse to strike — in a big way. That’s exactly what happened in 1988 when Dale Chihuly traveled to Venezia and on seeing its Art Deco vessels, decided to create his own sculptures with the help of two Venetian glass artisans. Bearing mythological creatures, cherubs and other themes related to the Queen of the Adriatic, the fantastical pieces are assembled in Chihuly’s Venetians: The George R. Stoemple Collection, which makes its only stop on the East Coast at the Alamance Arts Council (213 South Main Street, Graham) from July 1 through October 15. Info: (336) 226-4495 or alamancearts.org.
Jockablock See You at the Movies
Escape the inferno outside for the cool, dark comfort of a movie theater at two film festivals playing in the Gate City throughout July and August. Starting on July 11 the Carolina Theatre’s annual Summer Film Fest delivers chills and thrills from Hitchcock’s Rope to Steven Spielberg’s Jaws, as well as kitschy, campy popcorn flicks such as Blue Hawaii, Beach Blanket Bingo and Cry-Baby. Take the day off with Ferris Bueller, ride with The Duke’s posse in The Searchers or sing along with the Von Trapps in The Sound of Music. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com. For more high-minded — and free — fare, Greensboro Public Library’s Foreign Film Festival, (through August 30) takes you abroad to Ireland with Grassland, a family drama and 2015 Sundance award-winner; sets your heart afire with Austria’s Amour Fou; and ramps up the adventure quotient with Theeb, an Academy Award nominee from Jordan about a young tagalong in a Bedouin tribe. For a complete listing and screening locations: greensboropubliclibrary.org.
12 O.Henry
July 2016
Why fly down to Rio for games of hide-and-Zika when you can watch the USA Masters Games right here in the Gate City? From July 21–31, some 6,000 athletes age 21 and over, and hailing from around the globe, will compete in twenty-four different sports, including the usual suspects: baseball, basketball, cycling, soccer, tennis, golf, soccer, swimming, and track and field. There are the seasonal anomalies, too (figure skating and ice hockey, in July?), as well as the kinder, gentler activities — badminton, pickleball and functional fitness — for creakier joints. Competitions will take place throughout the city with the Greensboro Coliseum serving as hub central, replete with a Games Village. So come out and cheer on the competitors and boast that you’ve been to the Masters — without having to eat crummy pimento cheese sandwiches. Info: usamastersgames.com.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
High Notes in High Point
Beat the Monday blahs with Sunday night blues — or bluegrass, folk, Latin and soul — with yet more free, outdoor music. Joining Greensboro’s MUSEP and Levitt AMP concert series is High Point Art Council’s Arts Splash 2016. On July 10 grab a lawn chair and your dancing shoes, for there’s likely to be shimmying and shaking in Commerce Street at the Mendenhall Transportation Terminal when The Legacy Motown Revue takes the stage for the inaugural performance. It’ll prime you for the rest of the season’s lineup that includes The Collection, the cover story for the September 2014 issue of O.Henry, but decidedly not a cover band; Big Ron Hunter; plus The Robertson Boys; and Don Flemons, formerly of the Carolina Chocolate Drops, who winds up Arts Splash at the GTCC Amphitheatre on August 14. Info: (336) 889-2787 or highpointarts.org.
Ogi Sez Ogi Overman Fourth of July fireworks are by no means the only way to light up your hot summer evenings. There are plenty of musical pyrotechnics on tap in and around the ’boro, so let’s light the fuse.
• July 1, Blind Tiger: Americana
music was invented for this band. Yarn encapsulates everything good about the nonmainstream genre: great harmonies, superb acoustic musicianship, music with a message and a good time on stage that transfers to the crowd.
PHOTOGRAPH BY GRIFFIN HART DAVIS (THE COLLECTION), GLASS ART BY GEORGE R. STROEMPLE COLLECTION, A STOEMPLE STIREK COLLABORATION
Pestlemania
Invented in Greensboro, everyone should know that Vicks VapoRub is a eucolyptus and camphor salve that still soothes bronchial symptoms under Procter & Gamble’s banner. Now you can see precisely where VapoRub started: the mortar and pestle that Lunsford Richardson used to mash up the first batch. Greensboro’s Anne Carlson, who’ll turn 90 this month, recently donated the hefty brass set to the Greensboro Historical Museum (greensborohistory .org), where it’ll be displayed in a case labeled, “This Just In,” before moving to a permanent exhibit. Museum director Carol Hart says the grinding device is an example of an object that wouldn’t bring much on eBay, for instance, but is priceless because of its historical significance to Greensboro. “It connects to a time when Greensboro was becoming what it is,” she says. Its provenance? One night in 1894, when Carlson’s mother-in-law, Laurinda Richardson Carlson, was sick as a child, her father ran down to his pharmacy on South Elm Street and crushed up the ingredients to be plastered on his little girl. Shazam! She got better overnight. Richardson named the concoction for his brother-in-law, Dr. Joshua Vick, sold the rub in small blue jars, and a national brand was born. A footnote: Four years before Richardson invented VapoRub, he and a business partner bought the drug store from F.A. Tate and W.C. Porter. Porter’s nephew William Sydney Porter had worked in the store and later became a writer under a different name: O.Henry.
Sauce of the Month
The label of A La Brava Hot Sauce wonders: “Are you brave enough to try it?” I was and found that this “Authentic Salsa Diabla” — first whipped up in Chihuahua, Mexico, by Mama Nana, the grandmother of Winston-Salem resident Marcos Medina — is, in fact, considerably hotter than Texas Pete. Its blistering bravado comes from a blend of chipotle and “rat’s tail” (arbol) chilies, giving it a really distinctive South-of-the-Border accent, with no sugar, gracias. You’ll find it on the shelves of Super G Mart, Compare Foods or other, smaller tiendas. Bravissima! — DCB
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
• July 6, Greensboro Coliseum: Given our demographics here, I debated whether or not to include this one. But since many of us have kids and grandkids, I opted to inform you that “The Biebs” is coming to town. And if you don’t know who that is, ask your kids and grandkids. • July 10, Doodad Farm: More
often than not, I highlight national acts in this space, but three that ought to be — Molly McGinn, Sam Frazier and Jon Shain — will appear together in this lovely, rustic, outdoor venue. National caliber at local prices.
• July 16, High Point Theatre: Greensboro’s favorite son for five decades, Billy “Crash” Craddock, who graced the cover of this fine publication not long ago, will headline this Country Jam. Also on the bill are the darlings of rockabilly, the Malpass Brothers, and up-and-coming crooner Michael Cosner. • July 16, Carolina Theatre: If Americana was made for the aforementioned Yarn, it’s only because Steve Earle invented it. The legendary Texas tunesmith is carrying on the tradition of Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark. Joining him will be frequent collaborator and star in her own right, Shawn Colvin. July 2016
O.Henry 13
SERVING UP THE BEST OF SUMMER
AND THERE’S PLENTY TO GO AROUND
WINSTON-SALEM OPEN
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Players subject to change. © 2016 USTA. Photo © Getty Images.
Doodad
Easter Still Rising
Photo courtesy of Joshua McClure
Photo courtesy of Josh McClure
For Robin Doby Easter,home is where the stage is
PHOTOGRAPH COURTESY OF MICHAEL HILL PHOTOS
D
epending on whom you ask, Robin Doby Easter is either one of the area’s most talented and acclaimed actresses or one of its most dynamic and powerful vocalists. Fortunately, hers is not a “never the twain shall meet” situation, for in truth she does both with equal aplomb and perfection. “Seems I’m rehearsing for something all the time,” she says with a hearty laugh, “either with a band or for a musical or for a play. I’m definitely staying busy.” Busy is an understatement. For starters, in May alone Easter performed twice at the Levitt AMP Greensboro Music Series at Barber Park — with a different ensemble each time. She is one of the Gate City Divas, a group composed of eight of Greensboro’s top-flight female vocalists, who just released an album, Goin’ to Town, and two weeks later, at the behest of pianist extraordinaire Dave Fox, sang with the Healing Blues Project. And while gearing up for those two shows, she was also rehearsing for a June 3 play at The Barn Dinner Theatre titled Miss Mary and the Boys . . . before performing at City Market, Summertime Brews festival and with the Divas at the Greensboro Summer Solstice. And oh, yes, Easter just started a day job as a tour guide at the International Civil Rights Center & Museum. And to top it all off, she is the proud mother of four boys, who’ve blessed her with eleven grandchildren. Amidst all that, Easter’s primary gig is fronting her own band, Doby, a fivepiece funk/soul/rock outfit that has been electrifying local and regional crowds since 2010. Prior to that, she was a member of the Stovepipes, a blues ensemble fronted by well-known guitarist David Bolton. A Lynchburg, Virginia native who migrated to Greensboro to attend Bennett College, Easter’s initial pursuit was musical theater. Her credits include Dreamgirls, Smokey Joe’s Cafe, Raisin and The Color Purple. She then decided to try her hand at nonmusical drama, joining the Touring Theatre of North Carolina, under the tutelage of Brenda Schleunes. “She believed in me enough to cast me as a Nazi in one play,” Easter discloses. “Now, that was a stretch.” The highlight of the singer/actress’s career thus far was touring with the world premiere cast of Maya Angelou’s And Still I Rise. “It was the best experience ever, and I got to know Maya quite well,” she says. “She treated all of us like family. One day she invited me into her study where she was writing a poem, “On the Pulse of Morning,” which she read at President Clinton’s inauguration in 1993.” This month, look for Easter and Doby on the road to Floyd Fest in Virginia on July 29 and 30, and will be back in the Triad at Winston-Salem’s Bull Tavern August 4 and on the stage at a MUSEP concert on August 14 at Bur-Mil Park. Of her career path, Easter obviously has no regrets: “I did it for love and then started getting paid. God has given me some diamonds.” OH
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July 2016
O.Henry 15
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July 2016
O.Henry 17
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The Bear Facts
Life’s Funny
Q & A with The Bear
By Maria Johnson
You’d be amazed at the
walk-ins we get here at the O.Henry office on Banking Street. We get people wanting to talk to Astrid Stellanova about her horoscopes; people wanting to see the editor of Our State magazine (?!); people wanting to mail a firstclass package (we’re next to The Pack-N-Post). Mostly, we get people who want to pitch story ideas, which is great. Recently, there was a thud at the door, followed by a low rumble. We figured it was someone wanting to know if he could park in our lot while he ate at the hot new burger joint around the corner. But when we opened the door, there was a black bear. Here is a transcript of the conversation: OH: Can I help you? B: Do you mind if I come in? It’s getting a little hot out here, if you know what I mean. OH: Huh? B: (Looking over shoulder): Animal control. They’ve been tailing me all day. OH: Sure, come in. Can I get you something? B: I know it’s trite, but do you have any honey? OH: I don’t think so. How about some agave syrup? B: Sure. I like to try new things. I ate at a Thai dumpster last night. Tore me up. The sriracha, I guess. OH: (Handing over syrup) Here you go. How can we help you? B: I want you to write a story. OH: About . . . ? B: People. Every year, when my bros and I ramble through here, we see more people. Where do all of these people come from? OH: Oh, they migrate here from all over. B: That’s what I hear — they follow the highways into town. OH: Is that a problem? B: It didn’t used to be, but this is getting crazy. This time of year, we see people all the time. Take this morning — I was nibbling berries by a creek. I looked up, and there was a pack of people. A den, whatever you call them. OH: What were they doing? B: Just staring at me. It was unnerving. I thought they might attack. OH: What did you do? B: Whaddya, nuts? I froze. I thought about running, but then I remember that you humans love to chase things. So I walked away very slowly. No disrespect, but you never know what humans are going to do. OH: Have you ever tried scaring people off by making some kind of noise? The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Maybe standing up to make yourself look bigger? B: Are you kidding? You know what happens when young black males like me get assertive. OH: Hmm. By the way, what are y’all doing in these parts? B: (Winking). Oh, you know. Looking for honey. No luck so far. OH: Guess not. The state wildlife people say that breeding females have been confirmed as close by as Forsyth and Stokes counties, but not in Guilford County. Not yet, anyway. If anyone has photos of a mama bear and cubs in the Piedmont, they’d like to see it. B: Me, too. OH: . . . Because if we have breeding females around here, we’re going to be seeing a lot more of you guys from May through July. B: Got that right. But look, we don’t enjoy urban life. Here’s what happens: We young bears get driven out of our home ranges by the older, dominant males. We go looking for new ranges and new females, so naturally we cruise the creeks and rivers at night. We have a few too many acorns, lap up a little too much branch water, and boom! Come sunup, we’re in the city. Suddenly, we’re on TV. Whoa! And I’ll tell you something else, it’s happening more often. OH: Yeah, well, the number of people in this area is growing, and your populations to the east and west of the Piedmont are growing, so we’re bound to intersect more often. B: Makes me want to build a damn wall. OH: You could try it, but I doubt it would work. Besides, you admit that once you’re in the city, you raid trash cans and birdfeeders. Heck, you even eat pet food. B: Have you ever tried gluten-free dog food? OH: No. B: It’s not bad. Hey, if you don’t want me on your porch, don’t keep kibble or hot young sows there. Seriously, though, I don’t want to get all up in your grill . . . mmmm . . . grillll . . . Where was I? Oh, yeah, I don’t want to get all up in your business anymore than you want me to. This morning, before I left my thicket, I actually looked around for people. Can you imagine? OH: So what made you think you’d be safe at O.Henry? B: Didn’t you dress up like a bear to promote A Walk in the Woods for the library’s One City, One Book campaign last year? OH: Uh, yeah. B: (Pounds his heart with his paw). OH: OK, here’s my advice. Mind your own business. Generally speaking, humans won’t bother you if you don’t bother them. Sooner or later, they’ll move on. Just be patient. B: You sounds like a Berenstain. OH: Sorry for moralizing. Just be cool. B: Whatever. Can I ask you something? OH: Sure. B: Which way to that burger joint dumpster? OH: You like cheeseburgers? B: Do I go in the woods? OH O.Henry maintains an open-door policy, just BYO honey. To learn more about bears, go to ncwildlife.org/bears. If you have a picture of a female bear with cubs in the Piedmont, contact the district wildlife biologist at jason.allen@ncwildlife.org. July 2016
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You are Invited!
Open House
Friday July 15 – 2:00 to 4:00
It’s an ice cream party! Mingle with our residents, tour apartments and enjoy Friends Homes West! Also joining us: • June & Burton Kennedy, Keller Williams Realty of Greensboro
• Beth Wenhart, Carolina Relocation & Transition Specialists
6100 West Friendly Avenue • Greensboro, NC 27410 Phone (336) 292-9952 • www.friendshomes.org
• Linda Bradshaw, Pull It Together, Senior Move Management
The Omnivorous Reader
On the Road Again A fascinating history of NC Highway 12 is essential reading for everyone heading to the Outer Banks this summer
By Stephen E. Smith
Most of North Carolina’s
exquisite barrier islands are accessible via a slender stretch of asphalt designated as NC 12, a roadway that’s garnered more than its share of criticism and praise. NCDOT workers will tell you the road, which runs from Corolla to Ocracoke, should never have been built, while the Federal Highway Adaministration has designated NC 12 a National Scenic Byway. Repeat visitors to the Outer Banks speak of the fragile thread of macadam with the same awe and affection reserved for Rout 66 and the Blue Ridge Parkway, while environmentalists grumble about erosion and the impact of continued residential and business construction. By way of geographic and economic enlightenment, UNC Press, whose business it is to educate us on such matters, has released Dawson Carr’s excellent NC 12: Gateway to the Outer Banks, and the book is recommended reading for anyone headed east for a sojourn on the Banks. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
“New Inlet” (an ironic misnomer if there ever was one), which is located north of Rodanthe, is an example of the dilemma facing NCDOT. The inlet has appeared and disappeared numerous times over the last three centuries. It was first noted on maps in 1733 but later became clogged with sand. The inlet appears again on charts in1798 but had filled in by 1922. A new inlet was dredged in 1924 to allow fishermen to exit and enter the sound, but within a year it had clogged, only to reopen on its own in 1932. The area continued in flux, silting in and out, for the next decade, until a storm opened the inlet again in 1944, after which it refilled, until Hurricane Irene hit the coast in 2011 and washed out a hundred yards of NC 12. The difficulties of maintaining a roadway or bridge under such conditions are obvious, but with continued commercial development of the Banks and the influx of tourists, the necessity of keeping Hatteras Island and points south open to the public has become an economic imperative for the state. Carr documents the opening of the Outer Banks, concentrating on the political and geographical challenges encountered by those who’ve worked to develop the area to travel and economic viability. Beginning with transport by boat and oxcart to the arrival of the Wright Brothers and the advent of the automobile, the struggle to maintain the roadway, bridges and ferries is placed in historical perspective, and the future of NC 12 is discussed in light of changing demographics and the impact of climate change. No doubt many North Carolinians are aware, if only vaguely, of the barrier islands’ history and transitory nature, but Carr offers a sobering revelation. In 1949, the U.S. military considered using the Outer Banks as a site for nuclear testing. The state was home to numerous military bases and the Banks were virtually empty, offering a cheap and safe location for “Project Nutmeg,” a program for the testing of nuclear weapons. Fortunately, good sense prevailed, and the government took into consideration the historic and economic importance of the barrier islands and abandoned plans to July 2016
O.Henry 21
Omnivorous Reader
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22 O.Henry
July 2016
nuke North Carolina. One can’t help but wonder how tragic our history may have been had “Project Nutmeg” come to fruition. According to the N.C. Department of Commerce, 11 million visitors to the Outer Banks spent roughly $4 billion in 2013 alone, but Carr is quick to point out the necessity of maintaining NC 12 as a viable highway for more than financial considerations. At work is the human need to reclaim our place in the natural world. Tourists are drawn to the beauty of sun, sky and ocean, and access to the Banks gives us a chance to swim, fish, surf or catch a glimpse of hatching sea turtles. But allowing millions of visitors to the area has taken a toll on the natural world, and the human manipulation of the environment may in fact be a self-defeating exercise. “There is little doubt that artificial dunes keep normal waves from washing away the sand and the man-made structures that lie behind them,” Carr writes, “but dunes actually change the angle at which the waves strike, giving them a more devastating punch, and the waves generated by hurricanes and nor’easters are not to be considered normal . . . Wind-driven waves have the strength to tear across the islands, wiping out cottages and parts of NC 12.” For first-time visitors to the Outer Banks, Carr’s final chapter supplies a running tour of NC 12 in the fashion of early driving guides such as the Mendenhall’s Guide: “The first cottages seen on the trip down Hatteras Island snuggle closely against the highway through Rodanthe, and just a half a mile inside the town limits, on the left side of the highway, stands the Chicamacomico Life-Saving Station Historic Site and Museum, where the first of the original lifesaving stations stood on the Outer Banks. Chicamacomico is the only U.S. lifesaving station that still exists with its original building. . .” The ease with which we navigate NC 12, and the inspiring vistas we enjoy while doing so, tend to blind us to the fact that the Banks will always be in transition. If we’re to believe the science, we should visit the area before global warming transforms the landscape. After all, a number of Pacific islands have recently disappeared due to rising sea levels and coastal erosion, and Isle de Jean Charles, Louisiana, is drowning in a salt marsh and sinking into the sea. So we might grab a copy of NC 12: Gateway to the Outer Banks and put the Outer Banks on our to-do list along with visiting Venice, cruising Antarctica and the Great Barrier Reef, and observing polar bears in the wild. OH Stephen Smith is a poet and fiction writer who is a longtime contributor to the magazine. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Scuppernong Bookshelf
Harry Potter’s World And it’s no potter’s field
Is there anything else
happening in July that matters more than the release of the new Harry Potter book on July 31? For some, the answer is obvious. At midnight on the morning of July 31, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (Arthur Levine. $29.99) will finally hit the shelves and rejoicing will be heard across the world. (Scuppernong Books will host a Midnight Release Party!)
In an age when the next “Must-Read Series!” rolls out weekly, how can a series whose first book dropped almost twenty years ago post competitive sales and maintain a more devoted following than today’s next big thing? Harry Potter’s industry-defying staying power is rooted in the humanity of the story and its characters. Magic pervades the books in Tolkienesque detail, but Harry and his friends (and enemies, for that matter) come across as real people who might sit two seats up in your algebra class, people whose flaws connect readers to the books in a way other series don’t. Harry and his friends manage to slay the basilisk — while getting lost in a new school. Their perfect imperfections let us know that the lonely misfits of the world can be the heroes of their own stories. Through epic battles with dark wizards, Rowling inserts truths about our own world — especially the value of friendship and the need to stand up for what is right, even if you stand alone. In Harry Potter’s World, actions define the individual. Readers might initially flock to Harry Potter to lose themselves in magic and adventure, but they stay, generation after generation, for what they find in its pages: the version of themselves they long to be. But you’ve all read the novels, so let’s look at some of the other ephemera and offshoots that have filled in the missing years between Potter books. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Arthur A. Levine, $13.99) is the go-to encyclopedia for magical creatures in the wizarding world. Fantastic Beasts is a reference no Potterhead should be without. Based on Harry’s textbook, it catalogs all the creatures that populate the book (and many others besides) with color illustrations and a gorgeous green cover that looks great beside the original seven books. Use it to help brush up on your magical creatures for the Fantastic Beasts movie, whose story centers on Newt Scamander, the book’s fictional author. For anyone looking to dive deeper into the wizarding world, we suggest Harry Potter and Philosophy: If Aristotle Ran Hogwarts (Open Court Press, 2004. $18). This collection of essays examines philosophical issues — feminism, personal The Art & Soul of Greensboro
identity, the nature of evil, friendship — through the lens of Harry Potter. The magic of Rowling’s world is transported beyond the pages of her books, and into the Muggle world of critical analysis. The Illustrated Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (Arthur Levine, 2015. $39.99) is the same engaging story as the original, but Jim Kay’s elegant illustrations integrate seamlessly with J.K. Rowling’s prose while adding depth and vibrancy to the Wizarding Word. You can’t follow duels, dragons and death eaters with more duels, dragons, and death eaters. In 2012’s Casual Vacancy (Little, Brown and Company, $21) Rowling swaps Hogwarts for Pagford, a quiet, British town where a local parishioner’s death reveals a seedy underbelly of drug abuse and prostitution. Freed from the constraints of young adult fiction, Rowling writes with social commentary sharper than the blade of Godric Gryffindor and humor darker than a dementor’s kiss. It’s a slow start, but well worth the ending. If you thought the Deathly Hallows was emotional, just wait until you get to the end of this one. Under the wizardry of Rowling’s pen, even the lives of Muggles like us make for compelling stories. Finally, there’s the recently published Harry Potter Coloring Book (Scholastic, $15.99). It’s filled with intricate and detailed opportunities to color your favorite scenes from the films and novels. Imagine an entire page devoted to Hagrid himself! By the time you finish, you’ll be ready to devour The Cursed Child! Hot New Children’s and YA Releases for July July 5: Learning to Swear in America, by Katie Kennedy (Bloomsbury Children’s Books. $17.99). Brimming with humor and one-of-a-kind characters, this end-of-the-world debut novel will grab hold of Andrew Smith and Rainbow Rowell fans. July 12: The Monster War: A League of Seven Novel, by Alan Gratz (Starscape Books. $16.99). The third installment of the steampunk series by this North Carolina author. July 12: Grover Cleveland Again!: A Treasury of American Presidents, by Ken Burns (Knopf Books for Young Readers. $25). Yes, the famous PBS documentarian brings us a children’s book on presidents and first families. July 26: Come On, Sing It!: The Story of Pete Seeger, by Meryl Danziger (Triangle Square. $17.95). The American folk icon receives the attention he deserves in this new biography for children. July 26: Gemini, by Sonya Mukherjee (Simon & Schuster. $17.99). In a small town, as high school graduation approaches, two conjoined sisters must choose between their dreams as individuals and the inherent and potentially fatal risk of surgical separation. OH The Scuppernong Bookshelf was written by Mercer Brady, Shannon Jones, Gabe Pollak and Brian Lampkin. July 2016
O.Henry 25
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July 2016
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In the Neighborhood
Park Place
Just seven families call historic Cridland Road home. But what a view for the heart
By Cynthia Adams
PHOTOGRAPH BY SAM FROELICH
Trees, grass, and greenery. These, says
Triad engineer Mike Westcott, ticking them off on his left hand, are the partners in a dance of art and science that make a street more appealing. As someone who’s worked on neighborhood designs, Westcott maintains that grass between the sidewalks is a good thing. You want a buffer between the sidewalk and the street. Add a gentle grade and a wide street — but not too wide — and you’ve got the makings of a good neighborhood. This kind of cohesion must have been on the minds of the designers of the J.E. Latham Company, when they laid out the Latham Park subdivision in 1925. It’s nestled between Fisher Park on the south and Irving Park to the
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
north, and more specifically, Cridland Road, which has green to spare. It has trees, grass, greenery and buffers. It has gentle grade, perfect for skate boarders. It has quirky old homes, wonderfully different from each other and solidly built. And best of all, it runs alongside the park. Its lucky residents have a park view — the reason most of us choose to live here. Cridland Road stands defiantly between the part of Latham Park that fell to eventual commercial development reaching all the way to Church Street and North Buffalo Creek, which bisects the neighborhood northeast to southwest. The acreage comprising the actual park was a flood plain, too wet to develop. It is a buffer street, with old growth oaks standing sentry. Their gnarly girth is so wide they may predate the early 20th century houses they still shade. The trees and, especially, their roots spill over onto the sidewalk, claiming it as their own, looking very Lord of the Rings, my nephew says, referring to the Ents, craggy, treelike guardians of the forests in the Tolkien trilogy. When he was smaller, he would jump from his parents’ car, running to hug the trees as best his small arms could, and crouch on their massive roots. In springtime, they unfurl acid-green leaves with the muscular memory of their youth. Come autumn, the grand trees touch each other’s crowns in farewell, July 2016
O.Henry 27
In the Neighborhood blending into a canopy of golden-tinged redness. Although Cridland is short in length, it provides an expansive view — a wide, open vista of Latham Park. The street used to extend into Fisher Park on the south side. If you venture past the tennis courts, you will find a Cridland street sign at what was reportedly once a ticket office for a tiny train that traversed the park (in a less litigious era). Now, the train’s terrain is occupied by two ball diamonds where kids play little league baseball or shoot hoops. In winter, the view from Ralph Lewis’ upstairs bedroom is stunning when the park is carpeted with snow. City sounds are briefly muffled before children arrive to bobsled from one of few hills; their parents park on Cridland and youngsters sled downhill toward the creek, shrieking with joy. In early spring edelweiss pops up before the mowing crew cuts the first grass. Soon the bird watchers and counters arrive; a former mayor is often in their midst, binoculars out. One avid photographer has been counting and documenting birdlife in the park for many years. He arrives on a bike, dismounts and takes aim with his complex lens, then returns the following day. Many miss a solitary ibis perched in the creek, so still as to be invisible. Some kind someone has placed bluebird boxes right over the swell of a hill. Cridland Road’s devoted residents (houses seldom come up for sale, but when they do, they sell fast) plant rare varieties of dogwood trees. One of them, a fellow named Will, would no doubt make Robert Cridland proud. “The owner who plans, builds and cultivates beautiful things is a benefactor,” wrote Cridland, who advised homeowners to be as concerned with their home’s landscape as the interior. Will knows his dogwoods will provide shade to others; they will grow too slowly to shade many of us, the mark of a true gardener. . . A newer resident, Emory, has been beautifying his house and lawn for the last two years. One of the first things he did was to place two Kennedy rockers on the expansive porch where he could sit and rock and watch the daily life of the park from a short remove. His son plays ball there. The Riley family moved away last year to live near their children. Although they built more modern houses, they much preferred the character of their red-tile roofed Mediterranean home. A new family is now making the house their own. They liked to attend Community Watch meetings, sip wine and talk about the old days before the large development materialized behind their house. We named our small watch the Cridland Seven — to sound fiercely protective — which we are. A former resident at the home nearer the creek risked arrest when the power company arrived to take down some trees. She flung herself in front of their
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28 O.Henry
July 2016
6/10/16 3:13 PM
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
In the Neighborhood utility vehicles blocking their path. Spreading out her arms, wearing a full-length mink, the socialite refused to budge. On any given day, hundreds of walkers, cyclists, skate boarders, bird watchers and baby strollers troll past on the path that parallels Cridland. Charitable foot races (such as the Human Race) pass through. Firemen go on training runs, and National Guardsmen conduct drills there. On Earth Day, volunteers pull moldy plastic bags and bottles from the creek. Children kick off their sneakers and wade in to play. Occasionally, people bring a fishing pole. Sunbathers bring blankets and allow the sun to warm their backs. Picnickers arrive every sunny weekend that weather permits. So do football and soccer players. Last weekend, a grandfather patiently rolled a young boy downhill on his bike as I weeded the lily bed. The boy whooped for joy, and then cried in alarm as he spilled off into the grass. “Do it again!” he begged immediately. Eventually they packed up the bike and headed away. An avid walker arrives each afternoon, parking an immaculate Cadillac on Cridland facing southward, and takes a long walk. He never misses a day unless there is a deluge or deep snow. There are the countless dog owners like Mark and Michelle, who live in Southside but bring their dog to the park for a long outing. We count on meeting friends like these, or Beth, a marathoner in Fisher Park, who is so often training, or her neighbor, Laura, who lives across the street. By summertime, the City’s Concert in the Park draws hundreds who sway to the strains of music, often Rob Massengale and his band. We sit in our courtyard and listen, humming and sipping wine. John Nolen and Robert Cridland are responsible for much of the neighborhood’s livability and beauty. Nolen created the Irving Park neighborhood in 1909. Later, Philadelphian Robert Cridland was hired to expand Nolen’s project. His credits include the grounds of A.W. McAlister’s mansion on Country Club Drive, the courtyard of the Country Club Apartments (now Condominiums) and the Sedgefield grounds of Pilot Life Insurance Company. Cridland is a little road that ends at Latham Road, one that carries more than a little traffic. Each day, it supports hundreds of cars transiting from downtown to Irving Park. Only seven families live on this street — there were more when the street faced what was known as “the Meadow” back when Mayor Ralph Lewis built a brick twostory house in the middle of Cridland in 1926. The location also made for a quick commute to Lewis’s eleventh floor office in the Jefferson Standard Building. He motored past the former Vicks’ plant (at the intersection of Cridland and The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Wendover) as he traveled downtown. Lewis was a player, a key figure in the life of Greensboro. He served in WWI and became a developer (who acquired J. E. Latham Company) and also owned a bond and insurance company. He guided Greensboro into prosperity in the post-Depression years. Lewis was president of the Greensboro Country Club. His writer wife, Laura Linn, was protégé to Randall Jarrell at then Woman’s College, president of the Junior League, and active in the Greensboro Garden Club. Before the outbreak of World War II, Lewis managed, insured and sold properties in plummy Fisher Park, Irving Park and Bessemer, as well as industrial properties elsewhere. In 1938, he expanded his holdings and wound up acquiring the North Carolina Bank and Trust with his attorney friend Huger S. King. At age 42, Lewis was called into active Army duty in September of 1940, receiving notice while conducting mayoral duties. On September 17, Lewis resigned to accept command of the Guilford Grays. A farewell parade thrown by grateful citizens drew 2,000. He asked Greensboro to support his projects — better housing, water and sewer facilities, garbage collection and financial practices — until his return. His partner, King, filled in as Greensboro mayor. Lewis Street downtown was named after the well-liked mayor, who became Col. Lewis in the five years he was away. Almost all of his Guilford Grays returned safely. But Lewis returned, with a bad heart, to businesses suffering his absence. He died at home on Cridland on May 30, 1955, of a heart attack; his only child went on to work for J. Spencer Love, founder of Burlington Industries. Ralph’s brother, Elbert Lewis, was also civic-minded and is the namesake of Lewis Recreation Center. The Lewis brothers are buried nearby at Guilford Courthouse National Military Park. (So is a child who drowned in the Meadow, a friend of Ralph Lewis Jr.) Today, Latham Park is 126 acres supporting tennis and basketball courts, ball fields, a fitness trail and a walking path. A cement obelisk monument stands to J. E. Latham, visible from Cridland. What makes a street beautiful? In a word, vistas. What comprises a beautiful vista? Westcott is right. Green. Trees. Trees that have stood for over a hundred years are emblematic of Latham Park and nearby Irving Park. Many were planted even before Irving Park’s creation in 1909. They are more than shade-throwing beauties. These are the first residents of Cridland. Ralph and Laura Lewis would, we are certain, deeply approve. OH Cynthia Adams is a contributing editor to O. Henry and Seasons.
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry’s Summer Picnic
Tomato, Tomahto
However you pronounce them, they are summer’s most treasured fruit
By Diane Compton
“Ya know, those tomatoes are gonna cost
about $7 apiece.” So says my husband, an accountant, every February when garden catalogs appear in the mailbox — and with them, my seasonal amnesia. I am seduced by the promise of abundant, perfectly ripe tomatoes from lush, disease-free vines. Find a sunny spot, add a bag of miracle compost, plant ’em, water ’em and voilà! Beautiful State Fair-worthy tomatoes. Easy, right? You’d think by now, experience would trump my high hopes. As in blights, bugs, drought and floods. Then there’s the manmade disaster — deck cleaner is a very effective tomatocide. But with perseverance I just know I’ll have a nice batch of tomatoes, at least green ones. But once they’re kissed with the first touch of color, varmints inevitably claim more than their fair share. Birds, squirrels and chipmunks aren’t even remotely cute anymore. To arm for the battle there is no lack of gadgets, gizmos, tonics and spells offered by helpful entrepreneurs. My husband’s prediction of $7 tomatoes is uncomfortably close to true. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Meanwhile, at the farmers’ markets, tomatoes cost just $3 a pound, a delicious bargain, and with the first, juicy slice, dressed with a bit of salt, the backyard wildlife is charming again. So grow your own? Because there are a hillion jillion varieties of tomatoes that are difficult to find at even the best farmers’ markets. And once your efforts in the garden pay off, summer has officially arrived — on a plate! Breakfast, lunch and dinner, from appetizers through dessert, tomatoes will find their way into the season’s menu. Let’s get creative with all that fruit. Easy Caprese Kitchen challenged? When you serve sliced tomatoes with salt, fresh mozzarella, a sprinkling of fresh basil and a drizzle of good olive oil, you’ve just made a caprese salad! Use any variety of slicing tomato such as Mountain Pride, Carolina Gold, German Johnson or Purple Cherokee for a visually appealing mélange of color. These tomatoes are widely available at local farmers’ markets. In grocery stores, look for the “locally-grown” sign, preferably heirloom tomatoes, pricey but worth it. When choosing tomatoes, your nose is the best guide, tasty ones will carry the vine’s aroma. For a trendy new version, make the same salad but substitute burrata cheese for mozzarella and use a finishing salt instead. This salad is all about texture, often overlooked by home cooks. Burrata is a creamy cheese wrapped in a “shell” of mozzarella, an amazing texture when paired with tomatoes. Finishing salt, as the name suggests, adds a final flourish. Available plain or flavored, try it on any salad or vegetable; the delicate crunch is an unexpected burst of flavor. Last Gazp Once during a misguided effort to lose weight, get healthy and generally annoy the rest of the family, I bought a fancy blender to make smoothies from generic, nutrient-rich green stuff only to discover a new technique for that July 2016
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Summer Picnic summer classic, gazpacho. This is a great no-cook, do-ahead soup perfect for summer entertaining. Most recipes call for diced tomatoes, onions, green peppers and cucumber mixed with tomato juice. Use the blender to change the texture of this classic soup. In a large bowl dice and combine four pounds of tomatoes, an onion, a seeded red bell pepper, a large peeled seeded cucumber, a seeded jalapeño
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July 2016
chili and 2 teaspoons of Kosher salt. Reserve a third of the diced mixture and chill separately. Add a minced clove of garlic to the remaining two-thirds of the vegetables and let the mixture sit at room temperature for thirty minutes to an hour. Add the vegetables and any juices to a blender and puree. While the machine is running, add a half cup of good olive oil in a steady stream and blend till smooth. Season to taste with a teaspoon or two of red vinegar or sherry vinegar, along with freshly ground pepper and then chill thoroughly. To serve, ladle the soup into bowls and garnish with the reserved diced vegetables. Add some diced avocado for a richer texture and chopped parsley for a bit of green. Awesome Sauce! By August, my kitchen counter will be laden with dozens of less than perfect, a bit-past-ripe tomatoes (and by the way, they’ll be just fine there, away from direct sun; don’t store any tomato in the refrigerator), one pricey blender — and not a leaf of kale or spinach in sight. Time to make tomato sauce. This is a variation of the technique used in gazpacho. Dice two pounds of Roma or plum tomatoes. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Summer Picnic (These are meatier and less juicy, perfect for soups and sauces; they make beautiful fresh salsas and relishes, great accompaniments to grilled meats and seafood.) Toss with a teaspoon of Kosher salt and place in a colander to drain for 30–45 minutes, discarding the juice. Place the drained tomatoes with half a clove of garlic in a blender and puree. Add a quarter cup of olive oil in a slow stream and blend till smooth, about thirty seconds. Season with pepper and additional salt if needed. Serve over pasta or ravioli. Add some freshly diced tomato, basil and Parmesan cheese. A word about raw onions and garlic: They can come on pretty strong in uncooked sauces and summer salads. Don’t let them play the bully. To tame that raw flavor sauté them in a skillet with a bit of olive oil prior to use in a recipe. Sauté diced onions until they’re translucent and they’ll retain much of their texture. Sauté minced garlic about a minute and don’t let it brown. Use in your recipe as directed. A Southern Favorite Fried green tomatoes are worth every calorie. Use fully grown but unripe slicing tomatoes. Now to really gild the lily, use the three-step breading process that I swear by. First, dredge the sliced tomatoes in flour seasoned with salt and pepper. Then dip them in a wash of buttermilk and beaten egg. Finally, dip the slices in mixture of equal parts cornmeal and crushed panko crumbs. Panko is an Asian breadcrumb that stays crunchy during frying. Process them into finer crumbs in a blender or food processor. The secret to successful frying is oil temperature and that’s why my weapon of choice is a 12-inch cast iron skillet. Heat 1/4–1/2 inch of oil to 375° and fry slices a couple of minutes on each side. Remember, cool oil equals a soggy slices; cast iron maintains oil temperature better than any other material. Fry slices in batches, and keep them on a wire rack in a warm oven. Calories? Use your blender to make diet kale smoothies . . . tomorrow. Harvesting the first season of North Carolina tomatoes was a triumph of passion over economic reason for this agricultural amateur. Now three summers into my Greensboro tomato adventure, I’ve tried many varieties, looking for maximum output with minimal effort and have learned to avoid what are labeled determinate varieties, tomatoes that only set fruit for six to eight weeks. They’re tasty, but with my limited garden space, I’ve found the indeterminate varieties that keep The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Summer Picnic
on producing tomatoes into the fall are better choices. Two have survived well-intentioned abuse and still produced fruit in abundance. First place is Juliet, a grape-size plum tomato. She is indefatigable and prolific: One plant will keep you in fruit from July to Halloween with plenty for friends and family. The other is Better Boy, a classic slicing tomato that I use for gazpacho and salads. And since they produce fruit right up to first freeze, they didn’t cost $7 apiece. (So there, Honey!) Unfortunately the Law of Diminishing Marginal Utility set in by October, a fancy way of saying, “Too much of a good thing is, well, too much.” My fickle hearts turns toward the foods of fall, but when I buy grocery store tomatoes in February I’ll be dreaming about July. Just wait ’til next year!
Take This Zucchini . . . Please Did someone bring a bag of homegrown zucchini to work? By July zucchini is everywhere. From family, friends and strangers, everyone you’ll hear, “You’ve got to take some of this zucchini . . . please!” First thing is to choose wisely: Bigger is not better. For the best flavor and texture look for zucchini 6–8 inches long with a glossy exterior. What to do with all this bounty? Diced or julienned, fresh zucchini adds great texture to salads and chilled soups. Try a simple salad with that new vegetable spiralizer you got for Mother’s Day. Toss spiral-cut zucchini with a little salt and let it sit for thirty minutes; salt gives zucchini a noodle-like texture. Don’t have a spiralizer? Use a vegetable peeler to make lengthwise “ribbons” of zucchini. In another bowl combine some chopped fresh tomatoes with a bit of minced garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. Rinse the zucchini “noodles” in a colander and combine them with the tomato mixture. Add chopped fresh basil and some grated Parmesan cheese. Make it a main dish salad by adding some chopped leftover roast chicken. No stove, no oven required. If you do want to fire up the stove, how about some sautéed zucchini? Go big! Slice zucchini into pieces 1 1/2 inches thick or wider. For added visual interest substitute equal parts yellow squash. Preheat a cast iron skillet over high heat. Toss slices with vegetable oil, salt and pepper and sauté about three or four minutes, turning pieces as they brown. Don’t stir too much, letting the heat sear the exterior, and the interior will stay tender-crisp. Off heat toss in some fresh chopped basil or oregano and serve. OH Diane Compton is a kitchen and home specialist at Williams-Sonoma at Friendly Center.
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Spirits
Use Your Infusion
It’s easier than you think to make an outstanding cocktail at home
By Tony Cross
I started Reverie Cock-
PHOTOGRAPH BY ERIN BRADY
tail earlier this year to bring my love and passion for cocktails into people’s homes. I’ve had nothing but enthusiastic support from family, friends and strangers; I’m having a blast doing it, and I’m constantly learning from my guests. Something that continues to intrigue me (now and when I was behind the restaurant bar) is how most people don’t realize how easy it is to make a great drink. You don’t need exotic spirits, hard-to-find amaro, or a rack of bitters — though it doesn’t hurt to keep Angostura and orange bitters on hand — to get the job done.
A lot of people put zero thought into their drinks, and spirit companies know this; just walk into the local ABC store and check out the ridiculous number of flavored vodkas that line up the back wall. It’s insane. What if I told you that you could infuse your own spirits and syrups, and it will give you a mouthgasm? Nine years ago, I worked at a restaurant bar in Pinehurst and had no flipping clue what I was doing. (Side note: I still don’t know much at all — I’ve never worked in a craft cocktail bar, trained under others that could show me the ropes, or took seminars from the best in the business. I’ve read a bit, spent all of my free time behind the bar wasting gallons of spirits and making many God-awful concoctions. But I’ve tasted, and tasted and tasted. I dabbled on YouTube a bit too.) During this time, I had read somewhere about bartenders up North infusing their own vodkas and such. I thought, “What a great idea!” So I sliced up dozens of lemon wheels, and submerged them in a beautiful glass container The Art & Soul of Greensboro
that was filled with vodka, Gordon’s, if my memory serves me, and told everyone what I had done. I mean, I told everyone. When the week passed, I filtered the vodka, and took a generous swig. “Agghhh!” I exclaimed; it was vile; not like lemon vodka at all. I had poisoned myself with something that tasted like bitter vodka. The lemon pith had infiltrated and completely ruined the two bottles of booze that I had been patiently waiting on. Lesson learned: Only use the meat of citrus fruit when infusing spirits. Round two was deemed a success, and the infused lemon vodka was included in the house Cosmopolitan; it was still a staple on their menu the last time I checked. I have been very lucky over the years to have Nature’s Own for all of my organic produce and spice/herb needs. There’s enough in their bulk section (teas, herbs, spices) to keep you busy all year long. Here are a few infusions and recipes that are easy to do. You can take these with you to the beach, or use them to wow your friends and family the next time you’re playing host:
Callie Laura
The love of my life inspired this straightforward cocktail; I knew she would love it, and I loved watching her eyes light up when she tried it. 1 1/2 ounce Plymouth Gin 1/2 ounce Cointreau 3/4 ounce lemon juice 3/4 ounce Hibiscus Cordial (see below) 2 dashes of my house orange bitters (equal parts Regans’ No. 6 & Angostura Orange) Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Add ice and shake like hell. Double strain into a chilled coupe. Take an orange peel, expressing the oil over the glass, and then dropping the peel in the drink. Santé!
Hibiscus Cordial (revised from Employee’s Only recipe) 1 cup water
July 2016
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Spirits 1 cup baker’s sugar (by weight) 1/4 cup dried hibiscus flowers (available at Nature’s Own) 1 ounce Remy Martin VSOP cognac Bring the water to almost a boil and add sugar and dried flowers. Stir until sugar has dissolved. Let cool for 15 minutes. Strain and add cognac. If you want the syrup to keep for months, add a generous splash of vodka.
Infused Whiskey
Here’s an infusion that I did for years at 195 that killed, especially in the fall and winter months. I’m honored that they’ve kept it a tradition as a mainstay on their list. Makes just under 25 ounces (750 milliliter bottle) 2 organic Fuji apples 10 black mission figs 1 scored vanilla bean 10 grams cinnamon 750 milliliter Early Times Whiskey Dice up apples and figs, and combine with vanilla bean and cinnamon into a large glass container. Add whiskey and seal. Leave at room temperature for an hour and then refrigerate for ten days (gently agitate the whiskey daily until the ten days are up). Take out of refrigeration and wait until the whiskey is back to room temperature before straining. Enjoy neat or over ice.
Still Remains
This infusion is a must during the summer. The pineapple-infused Aperol is great over ice with sparkling water, but also plays well with others (including Durham-made gin) in this cocktail: 1 ounce Conniption Gin (NC-Code #66-374) 1 ounce Pineapple-Infused Aperol (see below) 1 ounce Dolin Blanc (Available at The Wine Cellar and Nature’s Own) Blend ingredients over ice and stir 50 revolutions. Add a twist of lemon, expressing the oils over the cocktail.
Pineapple-Infused Aperol
750 milliliter Aperol 1 pineapple, diced into 1x1-inch cubes Combine Aperol and pineapple in a glass container. Seal and refrigerate for five days. Filter Aperol and then strain through cheesecloth. OH Tony Cross is a bartender who runs the cocktail catering company Reverie Cocktails. He can also recommend a vitamin supplement for the morning after at Nature’s Own.
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July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Papadaddy’s Mindfield
Snake Business Far better than a birthday Xbox . . . I think
By Clyde Edgerton
My son Nathaniel wanted
an Xbox for his thirteenth birthday.
I knew that was another screen thing. And given the screen things used by our children — TV screens, phone screens, movie screens, game-player screens, iPod screens, iPad screens, Nook screens, kiddy screens, and on and on — his mother and I have been delivering frequent screen screams. A screen scream starts when one of us asks the kids gently — then less gently — to please please put the screen away, go sit on the side porch and look through the porch screen at a real tree. Who knows, someone might see a wild animal, like a squirrel. I saw a squirrel last week sitting in a chair on our back deck. He was texting on an iPhone.
ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR
The break came when Nathaniel mentioned that he wouldn’t mind having a snake for his birthday. “A snake? I said. “Instead of an Xbox?” “Well . . . yes,” he said. Hurray, I thought. By all means. I would have happily considered a small pond dug in the backyard with a pet hippopotamus inserted . . . anything but another screen thing. Nathaniel ordered a “ball python” online, $39. A few days later it came in a box. Next, find a snake aquarium — basically any aquarium, I figured. “Let’s go to a thrift store and get an aquarium,” I said. “It’ll be cheaper than at the pet store.” I love thrift stores. I could buy a picture frame and salt and pepper shakers for the kitchen table, or something, and still get out under $60 total for the whole birthday — with extra thrift store stuff thrown into the bargain. “Snake aquariums are on sale at the pet store,” said Nathaniel. I had a vague worry about going into a pet store to buy anything. An aggressive salesperson would probably want to throw in something extra, unnecessary. I grew up in a time and place where you made your own dog collar and leash, fed the dog on table scraps and Acme dog food (which cost about 75 cents for a fifty-pound bag), kept the dog outside in a dog house and pen, and only took it to the vet if it had been run over The Art & Soul of Greensboro
but wasn’t dead yet. We had happy, healthy, faithful dogs, too. And we killed most any snake we saw (which I now regret). “I’ll bet we can do better at a thrift store,” I said to Nathaniel. “I doubt it,” he said. “Let’s just check it out,” I said. “It’s a dollar a gallon — on sale — at the pet store for an aquarium,” said Nathaniel. “We need a twenty-gallon tank. Forty dollars, on sale for twenty.” “Well, let’s just see.” In the thrift store, the owner said this: “I can give you a twenty-gallon aquarium for thirty bucks. You can’t beat that at no pet store.” Nathaniel started for the door, after saying, “I told you.” I started to ask the man if he had any picture frames, but decided to go ahead to the pet store to get the aquarium. Looked like I could perhaps come in at around $60 — $40 for the snake, $20 for the aquarium. I couldn’t imagine an Xbox selling for less that $150 or $200. This would work. At the pet store, the happy salesperson escorted us to the aquarium. He said, “We got a sale going: twenty gallons for twenty bucks.” Then he said, “Let’s go get the other items you’ll need.” I said, “But — ” It was too late. You, dear reader, already get the picture. Nathaniel and the salesperson were moving from spot to spot collecting items in a cart that had appeared from nowhere. I’d catch up when they were leaving for a new spot — another item in the cart, another item to be on the receipt. I found that list a few days back, a scroll that includes a bamboo bar from which the snake can hang; a screen cover for the top of the aquarium so the snake can’t escape; a curved piece of wood the snake can hide under; a larger curved piece of wood, same purpose; a dish for water; the “bargain priced” aquarium; and more than three items I can’t identify. Gentle reader — will you understand if I don’t give you a dollar tally? I don’t want my mama (in her final resting place) to find out how much money I spent on something she’d . . . well, kill with a shovel. OH Clyde Edgerton is the author of ten novels, a memoir and a new work, Papadaddy’s Book for New Fathers. He is the Thomas S. Kenan III Distinguished Professor of Creative Writing at UNCW.
July 2016
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Birdwatch
Kite Flight
The Mississippi kite population is expanding
By Susan Campbell
Seldom do we hear of good
news when it comes to bird populations. But among the few species actually expanding their range in the Southeast is the Mississippi kite. This handsome raptor of wooded terrain feeds mainly on large insects. In the late 1980s after extending its breeding range to the floodplains of the Roanoke River, it moved into the Sandhills. Now it can be found in the Triad and seems to be extending its range into the state’s Coastal Plain.
Adults are a mix of gray and black with long, tapered wings and a relatively long, squared off tail. The physical characteristics give these small, sleek raptors what it takes to catch rapidly moving, aerial prey. Extremely maneuverable, Mississippi kites are equipped with a distinctive but delicate hooked bill. (Immature birds are streaked brown with barred tails.) Grasshoppers, beetles, dragonflies and even bats are prime targets. The birds also tend to feed low to the ground when small reptiles and mammals are abundant. In late summer, as they are preparing to head south, large flocks can often be seen foraging over large open areas such as farm fields or wherever flying insects are abundant.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Although they breed in North America, Mississippi kites winter in South America. As well-studied as the species has been here in the United States, little is known about their habits south of the border. Although they collect in large groups in the south-central United States and travel to southern Brazil and northern Argentina, their ecology is largely a question mark. But we have good data on the Midwestern and Southeastern populations, both of which are expanding. That’s largely a result of increased pasturelands, golf courses and parks adjacent to mature woodlands, which provide ideal opportunities for nesting. An increase in nesting around human habitation means an increase in kite interactions with people. And this can actually be problematic. Mississippi kites can be quite aggressive when it comes to defending their nests and young. They will readily dive bomb perceived threats — and this includes humans. I was very startled last summer not only to observe a new family on the farm where I live, but — shades of Alfred Hitchcock — to also be buzzed by one of the adults. I was shocked by how quickly I was attacked and how close the bird came to my head. A very effective defensive maneuver for sure! There is much interest in documenting nesting Mississippi kites here in North Carolina. Should you know of a nest site or see adults or immature kites in the next few months, please let me know. These are beautiful and fascinating birds and certainly worthy of special attention. OH Susan would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photos. She can be contacted by email at susan@ncaves.com or by phone at (910) 695-0651. July 2016
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Greensboro builders AssociAtion
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Wandering Billy
Music and Murals
Our man about town happily waves the flag and remembers old grocery stores
By Billy Eye “If the wind will not serve, take to the oars.” – Latin Proverb
A curious
PHOTOGRAPHS BY SAM FROELICH
winding lane called Paisley lies marooned across from where Fisher Park dead ends at Smith Street into downtown’s newest hotspot, where Joymongers Brewing Company is opening near Preyer and Crafted. Less than a block long, Paisley’s most distinctive features are three nearly identical broad-shouldered homes built in the mid1920s with arching gambrel rooflines, gabled bay windows and spacious front porches situated below shaded secondstory balconies perfect for watching summer storms pass. A very similar fourth example resides on the other side of a farmhouse-style, two-story stripped of whatever grace it may have possessed. Tree landscaping on this stretch bears some of Duke Energy’s unmistakable handiwork. Up the street from Paisley, I was surprised to stumble into an honest-togoodness local music store. Greensboro Music Co. is tucked into a charming standalone facing Greene that looks as if it were sliced off Otto Zenke’s former showroom. It’s packed with new and vintage guitars, amps, early ’70s Swish China Cymbals, brushed chrome Tama drums, along with a top-of-the-line Yamaha synth I recognized from the late-1980s. Owner John Clontz learned the ropes as a young man at one of the city’s venerable music retailers, Harvey West, who originally sold instruments and sheet music out of 232 West Market beginning in the mid-1940s before moving to 418 West Market. John told me, “Harvey worked up until he was 90, then decided to retire. I started this store from scratch [in 1994]. I had people telling me I should just go as a guitar shop but I thought, what if a drummer comes in, you know?” Reminiscent of Greensboro’s hippest mid-1980s storefront, Electronic Trader on South Elm, but with even cooler stuff. Time to get the band back together? I was happy to hear fireworks are returning to downtown but distressed to learn the Fourth of July parade has been cancelled. Perhaps it’s just as well; it had become so perfunctory. Sure, it inevitably elicited a tear in my eye when the veterans march past, those who sacrificed more than I’ll ever know, but it did bug me that businesses that traditionally went all out with elaborate floats and The Art & Soul of Greensboro
displays no longer make any attempt, even at Christmastime. Is a news van driving by, one we see everywhere, really the best our network TV outlets can muster? I expect more from major car dealers, radio stations, newspapers, our city. It was left to everyday community members to surprise us with their inventive, often over-the-top expressions, especially the young dancers. I appreciated the effort. And the caravans from assisted living communities traveling the route? Those folks were having a wonderful time, waving and throwing candy with a bird’s eye view of the festivities. Word is, the parade could return next year but generally once a tradition is passed over it gets lost to time. Was it really that long ago I dined at Iron Hen and would be practically the only person in the place? The folks behind Iron Hen — Fresh. Local. Good. Food Group — are reinventing a warehouse on Edgeworth and Spring Garden last occupied by Catering by Ellyn who vacated a decade ago. A massive effort is underway to construct a $4 million multiplex out of that brick box that will encompass a bakery, burger joint, a “poultry-focused dinner spot,” even a speakeasy. All the rage in big cities today, I hung out in a speakeasy in the mid-’80s with Sean Penn when he was married to Madonna. Yes, with a false front (BJ’s Fashions) and the massive door, behind which a mean-mugging man-mountain slid back the peephole to verify who you were. After a brisk frisking, a plush nightclub awaited with dimly lit alcoves, alcohol served (along with everything else you can imagine) well into the afternoon hours. Modern speakeasies are considerably more respectable. I know I am. Get digits ready to dive into deep waters. Groceteria.com, compiled by Greensboro’s David Gwynn, is an exhaustive look at the history of grocery stores, locally, regionally and nationally. Big Bear, Pender, Colonial, Ivory, Food World, Big Star. Who knew that New York Pizza on Tate was Piggly Wiggly in the 1920s into the 1950s? Or that Fishers Grille in Fisher Park used to be an A&P? All over downtown colorful murals are turning up where drab patches of brick once were, the most fanciful and elaborate of which was recently completed alongside the building that hosts Design Archives and M’Coul’s. It was painted by artist Kim Kennedy; the subject in the center of the 25-by-50-feet mural is a hometown musician, the multitalented Joey Barnes. Now you know, as Paul Harvey used to say, the rest of the story. Gotta meander. If I write too much the ink-per-page costs go into the dimes. Let’s chat on the third Thursday of the month at City Market over in the Railyard. As always, if you see me out dining, don’t hesitate to pick up the check — anonymously, of course! OH Billy Eye’s new lavish coffee table book America’s Busiest Landfills will be available soon outside finer bookstores and has been optioned as a series for the Garbage Network. July 2016
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July 2016
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Life of Jane
Blended Family Daiquiris à la Borden
By Jane Borden
ILLUSTRATION BY MERIDITH MARTENS
Shakespeare borrowed storylines from
popular narratives for most of his plays. The ancient Hebrews relied on local oral traditions for much of the Old Testament, including the Moses story, which is so indelible that 2,500 years later the lead character has transformed into, more or less, Harry Potter, and launched a $15 billion franchise. Similarly, my father did not invent the daiquiri. But his is still an exquisite work of art that could put Greensboro on the map. And, like the aforementioned works, his drink strays from its source material in ways that, via comparison, tell more about the artist and his time than a wholly original work could. Below, are three recipes in context.
Daiquiri, Jennings Cox (sometime between 1898 and 1909) Juice of 6 limes 6 teaspoons sugar 6 Bacardi cups, Carta Blanca rum The Art & Soul of Greensboro
2 small cups mineral water Crushed ice “Put all ingredients in a cocktail shaker and shake well. Do not strain as the glass may be served with some ice.” Basically, it’s a rum sour; Cox’s drink relied on a popular contemporary blueprint. Further, the Ti Punch, Caipirinha and Medford Sour all predate the daiquiri and employ some kind of cane spirit, lemon or lime, and sugar. Also, in the mid-to-late-18th century, British Navy sailors were issued a grog of rum mixed with water, lime and sugar. But since Cox, a mining engineer in Cuba at the turn of the 20th century, was the first to record a specific recipe and give it a special name, he is credited as creating it. One story: He was throwing a party, ran out of gin and didn’t want to serve his guests the local rum straight. Another story: Before heading to the mine, he and his coworkers began each day with several of these drinks at a local bar. A third story: He and a buddy were experimenting one night, et voilà. Whatever its origin, it was named for Playa Daiquiri, where the mine was located. Cox chose Bacardi Carta Blanca because it was local and, mostly, because U.S. engineers in Cuba received a monthly ration of it. He used limes instead of lemons (the more typical choice for a classic sour), because they were ubiquitous in Cuba. And he used six cups of rum for a recipe serving six, because he was a crazy alcoholic. Or because, in 1900, they all were. Or because they were just drunk all the time, which may be why the British Navy never really held Cuba. Alternately, some believe the phrase “Bacardi cups” on Cox’s July 2016
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Life of Jane handwritten recipe actually means ounces of the liquor. A medium lime produces about an ounce of juice, and the limes growing wild in Cuba were surely much smaller, so these proportions make a little more sense, but would still produce a pretty sour product. Either way, the Royal Navy has no excuse. Libation Point Peach Daiquiri, Bob Borden (the 1990s) 2 & 1/2 large peaches 6 ounces Bacardi light rum 4 ounces frozen lemonade concentrate 2 ounces pineapple juice Cubed ice Peel and pit the peaches and throw them into a standard-size blender. Add the liquid ingredients. Fill to the top with ice. Blend.
502 North Elam Avenue, Greensboro, NC Phone: (336) 292-0863 | Fax: (336) 292-2583 www.kraska.com
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July 2016
The frozen daiquiri was also developed in Cuba, around Hemingway’s time, when a bartender began using crushed ice. The invention of the blender, shortly thereafter, pulverized ice faster and more easily. This process turned the drink into the slushy variety that swept America after the rise in popularity of rum (which happened when World War II grain rations reduced the production of whiskey and beer). In the 1960s, Dad and his first cousin Donnie had a boat named The After You 2. When they asked dates to join them on an outing, they’d joke, “We named the boat after you two.” It was a 34-foot Hatteras and had a generator. They’d motor to Cape Lookout with three or four couples, fish along the way, and then swim inside the hook, while Herb Albert & the Tijuana Brass played on the 8-track tape deck. Dad hooked the blender up to the generator and made banana daiquiris, using ice from the cooler — “preferably the ice that had not been on the fish,” he clarifies. As Dad describes it, the drink was sweeter and less delicate than the peach variety he landed on forty years later, although I’m sure they were appreciated at the time. Dad resurrected this drink with peaches because he was receiving free peaches. My Uncle Ed still sends us a case each summer of Mac’s Pride peaches from South Carolina (the best I’ve had on the East Coast). Every year we budget them out: some for Mom’s cobbler, some for eating and some for Dad’s daiquiris. They are precious globes, nature’s gold, so revered that even my nephews have not noticed or pointed out that each one resembles a tiny butt. Dad boils the peaches for thirty seconds before peeling them, to loosen the skins. Peeling them otherwise was too time-consuming because, being both frugal and fastidious, he won’t
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Life of Jane allow his knife to remove any flesh with the skin. You should see him peel a tomato. Depending on your perspective, it is either a noble feat or a special disease. Dad begins making his peach daiquiris around 4:30 p.m., because that is common sense. He stuck with the frozen lemonade mix, because it’s just so easy. He lessens the amount, though, as too much acid would overpower the peach. But then he adds pineapple juice, his secret ingredient, to keep up the sugar content. He sometimes returns to dessert buffets for thirds. Dad serves his daiquiris in plastic insulated glasses because they are typically drunk on our porch in Morehead City, which faces the Sound and receives a fair amount of drink-melting wind. This porch was named Libation Point by my grandmother, but honestly anywhere you drink a daiquiri this good, it will be a point of libation. And you could probably forgo the insulated glassware because the drink won’t remain in your glass very long. Dad was only able to perfect this recipe with, as he explains, “Years and years of diligent experimentation — and I had to taste every single one of them.” Frozen Watermelon Daiquiri, Jane Borden (the Aughts) 12 generous counts (6 ounces?) of Bacardi light rum (or a mid-shelf vodka) 2 big spoonfuls (soup spoon?) of frozen limeade (or lemonade) concentrate couple of handfuls of cubed ice (1 heaping cup?) Frozen, chunked watermelon (enough to fill the blender) Cut a seedless watermelon (into pieces about half of the size of your fist?) and freeze them twentyfour hours in advance. Add the liquid ingredients. Add the ice. Fill to the top with watermelon. Blend. Most blender drinks today are made with synthetic fruit syrups and too much of them. So when friends in New York tried one of mine, they were pleasantly surprised and usually asked, “Where did you learn to make these?” “My dad,” I’d reply. This response was usually met with polite silence, presumably because family traditions in other parts of the country don’t revolve around liquor. Regardless of their judgments, they always wanted refills. My friends and I often threw summer barbecues. I was in charge of the blender. Good peaches are hard to find in New York, so I worked with what I had: mango and strawberries in margaritas, cherries and mint in mojitos, banana and pineapple in piña coladas. But I always
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July 2016
O.Henry 49
Life of Jane
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wanted to do something with watermelon. I tried using a little, but the subtle flavors disappeared. Then I tried adding a lot, but its water content is too high for the finished product to remain frozen. Finally, I realized that freezing the melon in advance, and using it as the ice, would solve both problems. This new drink quickly became the most popular on my bill. Dad said Donnie once tried to put watermelon in the blender on the After You 2, but had failed to remove the seeds. “We spent the next hour spitting out little black bits,” he recalls. “We only did that once.” Although I personally prefer rum, sometimes I replace it with vodka so the watermelon can shine even more. But I guess that’s not a daiquiri. Then again, when I put bourbon, Bailey’s, vanilla ice cream and ice in a blender for dessert, that’s not a daiquiri either, but it’s still delicious. I cut back on the citrus concentrate because, again, it overpowers the melon. Also, since the drink contains more fruit (even if 92 percent of it is water), it requires less sugar. Sometimes people like mint. Since it blends thoroughly, two or three leaves will do. As a purist, I don’t think the drink needs it, but, hell, go crazy. I apologize for the recipe’s vagueness. When working with a blender, it’s easy to correct mistakes. So I just eyeball the ingredients and add more of whatever is needed, as I go (my recipes have also been influenced by my mother). Another tip: Run the blender a long time. Eventually, a tornado-like funnel will appear at the top. Once that happens, run it for another minute, at least. Never serve a chunky frozen daiquiri. Also, if you find that the bottom half is blending, but the top half won’t budge, just stop it, give it a stir, and blend again. Like my father’s daiquiri, I have perfected this recipe over many years. Eventually, I felt ready to serve him one. Every apprentice dreams of impressing his or her mentor. But opportunities are rare, particularly in my case, because if a blender is on the counter, and my father is in the building, everyone would prefer he make the drinks. A couple of summers ago, I finally convinced the family to let me serve one round. They unanimously agreed it was delicious. Then they unanimously agreed they prefer Dad’s peach variety. Frankly, I agree. My endeavor wasn’t intended to be a competition. That’s why I don’t make peach daiquiris. It’s Dad’s world, I just blend in it. Next time, I’ll tell you about his Old Fashioneds. OH Jane Borden is a Greensboro native living in Los Angeles and trying to spread the gospel of good daiquiris. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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July 2016
O.Henry 51
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July 2016 The Wasp Nest
Their bodies are burgundy brown, shiny and intent. Bullet shaped. With feelers they finger where their nest had been. That cone of pearls, empty now, their young spun away. They circle, disoriented. (I know how it feels. Where is home? Where? Where?) One swipe of the broom and I brought it down. Great god that I am. Not. No mercy in the laws of living. I am bigger. I hold the broom. I own the porch. They line up like soldiers but there is nothing left to guard, to fight for. Coward that I am, I hide behind the door, feel their wrath, their buzz of anger, their question why. I see their brown pain. I can’t claim victory. — Ruth Moose
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July 2016
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— O.Henry’s Summer Picnic —
Perfect Fried Chicken
What could be more patriotic — at least in these parts — than Southern fried chicken times three? By Jim Dodson • Photographs by Sam Froelich
D
uring my freshman year in college I was one of the most popular guys on my dorm hall owing to a surprising factor. My mom’s fried chicken. The first time I returned from a weekend at home bearing a care package that contained half a dozen pieces of her Sunday fried chicken, the chicken quickly vanished in an instant and I was doomed to have to repeat the process for the rest of my freshman year. What was so special about her fried chicken? I can’t quite put my finger on it. Hers was crispier and darker than conventional fried chicken, bathed in buttermilk and some kind of thickly seasoned flour that sealed in the juices that made the taste buds stand up in patriotic salutation. Indeed, to most of us, nothing except apple pie may be as “American” as fried chicken — something of an irony since, according to James Beard’s seminal work American Cookery, fried chicken may have in fact originated as a Viennese dish called “Wiener Backhendl,” a favorite in Austria for generations. “The only difference,” writes Beard, “is that there is a larger amount of lemon juice in the Viennese recipe, which gives it a more attractive flavor.” Moreover, traditional “Southern” fried chicken did not find much acceptance in the North till the last quarter of the 19th century when a popular 1877 edition of a cookbook for New England cooks mentions a “a simple method for frying spring chicken primarily used by Southern Negro cooks.” Unfortunately, my mom took her popular Southern fried chicken recipe to the grave, confirming food writer Calvin Trillin’s wry observation that a great fried chicken recipe, like a fine second-hand bookshop or a bad third world dictatorship, often doesn’t survive being passed down to the next generation. That being the case, and July being the biggest month for America’s insatiable fried-chicken consumption — the 6th is actually National Fried Chicken Day — we’re blessed here in the Triad with some of the best fried chicken cooks to be found anywhere. Thus, for your dining or family picnic pleasure, we present a trio of outstanding Triad cooks patriotic enough to share their secret fried chicken recipes.
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
The Lowdown on Sweet
The First Family of Fried Chicken One day in 1961 Rebecca Ingram stepped off a bus in High Point from rural Anson County, bringing her grandmother’s fried chicken recipe with her. “I know I’m blessed by the Lord,” she says with a laugh, “because within fifteen minutes I had a job and a sweetheart.” The boyfriend was Henry John Langford, a prominent High Point attorney who also owned the popular L and M Restaurant on East Washington Street. Thirteen years later, Becky and her sister Mary Francis Ingram purchased a small building just down the street that formerly housed a drugstore and opened their own soul food restaurant called Becky’s and Mary’s. They didn’t bother advertising because word of mouth soon made their place the most popular breakfast and lunch spot in downtown High Point. On November 10, they’ll celebrate forty-three years in business. “And my fried chicken is still the best you’ll find anywhere around,” says Becky, 75, with an endearing feistiness. The recipe is Becky’s but younger brother Leroy does most of the deep frying these days while her youthful sister Mary Francis, 67, greets the long lines that pack the place most noontimes. One could easily make the case the Ingrams are the First Family of Triad Southern fried chicken. (Their meatloaf and collard greens are also enough to make you break into a quick shout of “praise the Lord.”) Mary Ingram’s Southern Fried Chicken Recipe (In her own words) “Start with good chicken that’s clean and well washed. I use self-rising flour that has been mixed with a tablespoon or so of salt and black pepper. You can also add some Accent seasoning, too. “I take four cups of water and one can of Pet [evaporated] milk and mix them with four eggs. You can soak the chicken overnight in this mixture and then roll the pieces in the flour, shake off the extra flour and deep fry in very hot oil.” “You’ll know it’s ready to eat,” chips in brother Leroy, “when you stick it with a fork and the milk doesn’t leak out. That means the juices and flavors are locked in the meat. Folks seem to agree.” Amen, Leroy. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Sweet iced tea, the drug of the South, was present in the fridge of my childhood, and in the kitchens of everyone I knew. We made iced tea, sweet enough to curl your teeth, every morning for our large family and set it to cool for dinner and supper, always available for us five kids, forever with a great thirst. Milk was for breakfast; tea was for everything after. We grew up in a farming community in rural North Carolina, where summers were hot and humid. Whenever the crops were in, the hay was baled, the cotton was hoed or the Silver Queen was high enough to pull, cold tea was carried to the fields in sweating thermos jugs in order to quench that thirst. We flopped down onto quilts spread across the grass in the shade, drinking deeply from colorful aluminum or plastic Tupperware glasses. The ritual required draining the glass and sucking the residue from the ice. Somebody would crunch the ice hard enough to break a molar and say, “Man, that tea hit the spot.” Tea and iced water were the drinks of choice for thirsty working people, the same as for church revivals and bridge clubs. If the occasion was truly special, you made sure there were slices of lemon and sprigs of mint plucked from the garden, mainly for garnish. I’ve frequently had lavender tea in Savannah, Georgia, at the Paris Market and Brocante on West Broughton Street. Theirs is one of the only variations on sweet tea I love, one infused with lavender. Lavender simple syrup added to a standard iced tea is beyond compare. Tea, a camellia plant, is now grown in Charleston, S.C., and the Bigelow Tea tour is a kick. In the Deepest South, some add a pinch of baking soda to iced tea to tame the tannins. Yet I suspect that would send your “pressure” rising because we Southerners drink gallons of tea. Do we need more sodium? Our sweet tea required no recipe. But here’s how it is done: Boil at least a quart of water in a nonaluminum pot, and then pour over at least seven tea bags. Back in the day, the local Red & White supermarket wasn’t exactly super-sized, but sold Lipton, Tetley and Luzianne brands. Lipton was the tea of choice in our house. A cup or two of sugar is immediately added. Some people insisted tea should steep hours, but it is usually ready within a half-hour. It needs to steep until dark in color before being cut with an equal amount of cold water. Cool another half hour before serving over a full glass of ice. Nobody likes hot tea poured over ice. This dilutes the tea, turning it into a pale mistake, or what Southerners call weakas-horse-piss. (Anemic tea surrenders pathetic bits of ice to bob sadly on the surface. This is the white flag of iced tea.) And if you couldn’t make a glass of iced tea right, as my father would declare, then what all else must you get wrong? It is a challenge to find good sweet tea commercially made. Stamey’s; Bojangles’ and McAlister’s Deli make a noble effort. I do not offer this praise lightly: Good tea is not to be dismissed. I vow to keep drinking, in search of an elixir as good as my Mama’s. — Cynthia Adams July 2016
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Ova the Top
Which came first, the fried chicken or the deviled eggs? Well, in my childhood picnics, it was the deviled eggs. Not that we were accustomed to midday appetizers, but the sunny ovals — always dusted with paprika — were the perfect overture to my mom’s exquisite fried chicken. The egg-chicken combo seemed like a natural progression. But by the same token, I’ve always thought of deviled eggs as a gentle intro, a mild-mannered sidecar, nothing more. Over the years, I’ve popped many a yolk-in-a-boat, and most of them, honestly, have left me clucking. Something about the texture. Too slippery. Too mayonnaise-y. Too bland to the eye and mouth. But not long ago, I tripped over some attractive-looking recipes online. I confess that it was precisely the look of these deviled eggs that snared me. Bloggers and Pin-sters were dyeing the whites all kinds of snazzy pastels: electric pinks, blues and yellows. They were doing this after the eggs were boiled and peeled, but before they were halved, gutted and restuffed. These iconoclasts were also revving up the mashed yolks with wasabi, blue cheese and the like. They were garnishing with caviar, pickled ginger, baby shrimp and smoked salmon. And, gasp, they were turning the eggs on end and slicing them short-ways, to resemble little cups, which they filled and tucked back into lettuce-lined hollows of egg cartons, lest they Humpty-Dumpty onto the floor. In short, deviled eggs were breaking out of their shells. Now, they had my attention. Recently, I took a turn at creating some colorful little devils that would pair well with fried chicken or stand alone as an app. Even my college-age son, who is suspicious of eggs served on any platform other than a fast-food biscuit, nodded his approval. Like everything else that issues from my kitchen, this recipe is very simple — emphasis on very — and not terribly precise. As my husband says, I view measurements as a suggestion. Here, then, is the basic idea for Maria’s Sunny-Side-Out Savory Bacon-and-Eggs. Step One: Boil and peel six eggs. Step Two: Squirt about three tablespoons of yellow hot dog mustard into a small mixing bowl, add water, whisk well. Submerge peeled eggs and let sit in refrigerator for a couple of hours. I don’t have to tell you what mustard does to white. If you want pink eggs, use the juice from a jar of pickled beets. Blue? I dunno. Mash up some blueberries or use blue dye. This is supposed to be simple, remember? Step Three: Rinse eggs, slice longways, pop out yolks into mixing bowl. Step Four: Add just one heaping tablespoon of mayo. This is key if, like me, you detest the puréed consistency of most deviled yolks. Throw in a tablespoon of spicy brown mustard; a healthy dash of sriracha sauce or your fave heat; a wee bit of curry powder; a teaspoon of sweet pickle juice if it’s around (if not, don’t sweat it); a few twists of ground pepper and shakes of salt; and a rasp or three of Parmesan cheese. Step Five: Mash it up. It’ll be a little chunky. Use a fork to stuff the mixture back into the yolks. Looking for some visual texture here, too, folks. Step Six: Nuke a slice of bacon. Break it up. Stick a little piece of bacon in each egg. If you have fresh dill, drop a few whiskers on each egg. If not, rain lightly with dried dill. Wha-lah, as the French say. Stick that oeuf in your bouche, and share the rest with your picnic peeps. — Maria Johnson
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Lucky 32’s Sunday Fried Chicken “There are few things more traditional than Southern fried chicken for Sunday supper,’ says Lucky 32’s Executive Chef and General Manager Felicia McMillan, who learned her Southern cooking stripes loitering at her grandmother’s elbow in Macon, Georgia. The popular Southern restaurant begins their Sunday family-style fried chicken dinner at 3 p.m. and serves it with traditional collards and cornbread – and other traditional sides – until the chicken runs out. “Our fried chicken is special because, we only fry it in N.C. lard and spices blended in house,” says Executive Chef McMillan. The popular dish is also available for family style takeout and picnics that serves 3-6 folks and comes with three generous pieces of chicken, pints of mashed potatoes, collards, giblet gravy and four pieces of cornbread. We consider ourselves very “lucky” to have a home version of 32’s beloved house chicken. 2 1/2 tablespoons paprika 2 tablespoons salt 2 tablespoons garlic powder 3 teaspoons black pepper 3 teaspoons onion powder 3 teaspoons cayenne pepper 3 teaspoons oregano leaves 3 teaspoons thyme leaves Add all ingredients to a large bowl and combine with a whisk until spices are evenly distributed. Store in an air tight container with lid. Makes – 3/4 cups * All of Lucky 32’s recipes were originally designed for a much larger batch size. This recipe has been reduced — but not tested at this scale. Please adjust as to your taste and portion size. © 1986-2016 This recipe is property of Quaintance-Weaver, Inc. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Pick a Peck of ’Em
Southern Lights Buttermilk and Dill Pickle Chicken Owner and Executive Chef John Drees might well be the godfather’s Greensboro’s owner-chefs, a fellow who learned his mastery of cooking from an estimated twenty-two different talented cooks who passed through one of the Gate City’s most enduring and popular restaurants since its opening in 1985. Lights’ loyal fan base of an estimated 3,000 regular patrons speaks for itself. “And our fried chicken is probably one of the reasons why,” he allows. Ours has evolved over the years but has always been represented on the menu in some form or another. We really make two versions of it now – one very traditional style with pure buttermilk and another slightly different with dill pickle juice that gives it a bit more zest. Both are extremely popular with our clients.” You can say that again. At the recent debut party for O.Henry Seasons magazine, platters of John’s Dill Pickle Fried Chicken vanished in no time flat. Optional Brine: 2 cups white vinegar 2 cups water 1 teaspoon salt 1½ teaspoon dill Six thin-sliced chicken breasts Combine vinegar, water, salt, garlic and dill in a pot and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and let cool. Marinate chicken for at least 4 hours or overnight. 1 cup buttermilk 1 cup flour 1 teaspoon corn starch 1½ teaspoon of dry thyme 1½ teaspoon salt Combine flour, cornstarch, thyme and salt. Remove chicken from brine. Dip chicken in buttermilk then in seasoned flour. Cook in an inch of vegetable oil until golden brown – normally 7 to 8 minutes on medium heat. 1 ounce bourbon 1/3 cup spicy mustard 1½ /2 cup honey Combine bourbon, mustard and honey for tasty extra sauce. OH The Art & Soul of Greensboro
As a travel writer in a former life, I’ve bellied up to some of the world’s finest buffets, but none of them can compare to the spreads that country churches put on, especially in the summer. If you’ve never been, tables groan with fresh squash, green beans tangled with bacon, country ham biscuits and some of the best fried chicken ever to grace my taste-buds. But there are two offerings that really get me going: pies and pickles. While pie gets plenty of ink from food writers, the tart and refreshing Southern pickle is largely ignored. The finest, in my view, are watermelon-rind pickles, which my loving mother made every single summer, always squirreling away one jar so that they could make an appearance at Christmas dinner. My wife, Anne, makes them whenever she can find a melon that hasn’t been so hybridized its rind is almost paper thin. Lots of cloves and cinnamon sticks gave Mom’s recipe a real measure of difference. Rachel pickles are another Christmas treat, paper thin and prepared by my Aunt Rachel, rest her soul. Their crispness almost measures up to potato chips and they’re nearly as sweet as candied gherkins, which I’m also addicted to. My cousin Reid will occasionally make me a couple of jars for my birthday, one of which I gobble up immediately and the other I save for our family Christmas dinner. Anne keeps the gift exchange alive by giving Reid some of her pickled peaches. I’ve frankly never heard of other people eating pickles at Christmas, but in our family, it’s a long-standing and cherished tradition. Blame it on Mom and her sister Rachel being Pennsylvania Dutch. In Mom’s copy of Mary Emma Showalter’s Mennonite Community Cookbook, Showalter points out how the “Dutch” folk of Pennsylvania love pickles at all celebrations. Even okra pickles would show up at our Yuletide table. Mom’s were good, but the art director of this magazine, Andie Rose, makes the best I’ve ever eaten. Andie uses plenty of hot peppers, which give the jars a holiday flare and the pickles some snap, crackle and pop. I have a birthday coming up, Andie. Hint. Hint. Bread-and-butter pickles appeared around our house about the same time as fresh corn slathered with butter and sliced, homegrown tomatoes graced with a huge glob of Duke’s mayonnaise. Another mid-summer favorite are green-bean pickles, which my wife once made after, for some reason, we planted three rows of green beans. They were so crisp they made an almost audible snap. The crispest pickles on record, though, are made from Jerusalem artichokes, which get their distinctive twang from lots and lots of turmeric. Then there’s chow chow. Lord ’a mercy, how I love chow chow on pinto beans with some fresh onions on top to kick them up a notch. Just add a splash or two of Texas Pete. Green tomato pickles aren’t shabby, either, especially if made with lots of dill and garlic. Ditto Kosher dill refrigerator pickles. But my favorite salty pickles are those little round green peppers stuffed with sauerkraut. Foodies will know that fermented foods are making a huge revival, from kimchi and fresh sauerkraut to kombucha and kefir. I made my first batch of kimchi (Korean sauerkraut flavored with ginger, garlic and red peppers) forty years ago and when I make it now, my wife still complains about the smell, coming from both me and the house. But let’s face it. Pickles are a lot of trouble. There are alum baths, repeated rinsing and brining. Letting them sit overnight or for several days. You spend hours stirring a steaming pot over a hot stove in the middle of summer, whether blanching peaches to peel or beans to pickle. Or you’re boiling the jars in hot water, before and after you fill them. But that glow of satisfaction that comes when you hear the tops snap is just like Christmas — worth the wait. — David Bailey July 2016
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Van Gogh in Vacationland
Artist Linda Tillman’s whimsical take on Mid-Century Modern culture is the hottest thing this side of a swimming pool in paradise By Nancy Oakley
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urquoise swimming pools, palm trees, beach cabanas, motels, diners, pink flamingoes, rocket ships, Airstream trailers . . . Welcome to Mid-Century Vacationland writ large — or rather, painted small — on the vivid canvases of Linda Tillman. In her world, every day is a day in paradise, devoid of rainy days, traffic jams, lost luggage or interminable TSA lines. Her pristine houses with straight edges, swooping roof lines and glass walls never require paint jobs or repair; yards are lush and manicured. This carefree spirit of the postwar period is paying dividends in the 21st-century marketplace: In four years, the Greensboro-based artist has created a substantial fan base on Facebook, eBay and Etsy, where she sells her colorful paintings, most of them as limited edition prints. “What does somebody want to look at all the time?” Tillman posits. “I see stuff all the time on eBay and they don’t sell it because it’s all this self-serving kind of ‘my emotion’ sort of art. It’s like, really? Who cares?” Though she holds a B.F.A from Syracuse University’s School of Art and an M.F.A. from New York University’s School of Art, Tillman considers herself a “decorative art painter,” owing to her career as a textile designer, a good portion of it spent in L.A. During her seventeen years in SoCal, where, as the song goes, it never rains and there are swimming pools and palm trees aplenty, the artist frequented flea markets and acquired pieces of Mid-Century furniture and accents before they became trendy. Palm Springs, the epicenter of the period’s aesthetic, The Art & Soul of Greensboro
was a trove of finds. “You get all this movie star furniture. Really cool, custom stuff. You could find, like, Vic Damone’s end table,” Tillman says with a laugh. Now, however? “I couldn’t buy back any of my furniture at this point,” she says, noting the current popularity of 1950s and ’60s style. Tillman’s California dream ended in Y2K, not because of any predicted cyber calamity, but because NAFTA sent shockwaves through her corner of the textile industry. With friends in the Gate City from a stint working at Guilford Mills in the 1980s, Tillman packed up her Mid-Century artifacts and in 2003 left the Left Coast for Greensboro’s more affordable housing market. The artist wore various hats to find ways of paying the bills — as a substitute teacher and a paralegal. She designed labels for awhile, painted in watercolor for a bit, and then one day, she had an epiphany. “I saw a couple of other people who’d sold things on eBay that were kind of amateurish in that style,” Tillman recalls. “They were doing this very cartoony Mid-Century stuff with cats — stylized-looking animals, more Disneylooking but apparently selling pretty well. And it kind of kicked me,” she says. With the Mad Men wave behind her, Tillman started California dreamin’ again, with paintbrushes, canvases and gouache over acrylic. Gouache is a waterbased paint frequently used in textile design and its smooth texture allows her to paint the precise, clean, hard edges and fine detail that characterize her style. Her paintings are realistic in scale and perspective, but fanciful and playful in subject matter. “I started out doing some Hawaiian/Tiki- looking paintings,” Tillman July 2016
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recalls. Indeed, her early images of bikini-clad gals lounging in hammocks by palm trees and Easter Island heads look like scenes lifted from Gidget Goes Hawaiian — except for the rockets and spaceships nearby. “There’s a sort of weird outer-space element to the Tiki stuff that I never understood,” Tillman notes, adding that as a fair-skinned person who doesn’t swim, the beach vacation phenom mystified her. But it sold well. “I surmised that people wanted to be reminded of their vacations,” she observes. Tiki soon grew tedious, so Tillman began exploring other aspects of Mid-Century life and culture: Vegas-style motel signs, pink flamingoes, diners, abstract fish. Then she turned her attention to Mid-Century houses and interiors, “People are buying the old architectural drawings to build the houses. Or they’re buying the houses, older ones,” she says. What better décor than a print of a pristine white house, with sharp angles, sweeping curves, or a kidney-shaped swimming pool and a lounge chair, or an interior with blocky furniture that looks as though it came from Rob and Laura Petree’s living room? And what better way to ramp up its appeal than by adding a dog? Just as people like to be reminded of their vacations, they also like to be reminded of their pets. So Tillman’s vignettes often feature canines lounging by the pool, in an Eames chair, watching a rocket take off; in another scene, a pack of them are gathered around a TV set, watching an episode of Lassie. Goldens and Labs figure frequently, and while Tillman will not take commissions to paint owners’ specific dogs (or houses, or anything else, for that matter), she will take suggestions for painting other breeds. Typically, she will do a lot of photo research on actual houses, maybe Photoshop in a detail — a dog, or a car — to achieve that realistic scale. Once Tillman sits down to paint in her comfortable basement studio, with Flat-coated Retrievers Oona and Traveler lounging nearby, she might alter some of the architectural detail — swapping a bland cement wall for a stone one, for example, or replacing “schmutzy-looking” foliage with what else? Palm trees, for their “clean, flat look, because that’s part of the modern feel,” Tillman says. She usually paints on 11-by-14-, 12-by-12- or 8-by-10-inch canvases, each taking roughly a day to complete. These, she’ll photograph and sell as prints on Etsy. She also sells original paintings, on Etsy and
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exclusively on eBay. Tillman prefers the smaller size canvases, she says, because she can lay them atop her simple worktable with enough space for her gouache paints within arm’s reach. What, no easel? “It’s fairly strenuous, and people don’t realize if you do this with your arms all day,” the artist explains, moving her limbs about, “standing up, it’s hard to be precise with a lot of hard edges.” All told she does about 250 paintings a year, and usually keeps that many on her Etsy store, rotating them out if they don’t sell. And just who is buying her works? “I would say I ship 80 percent of my paintings west of the Rockies,” Tillman says, naming her old haunt of Palm Springs as a common destination. “But to Texas, also. There’s a lot of Mid-Century in Austin and Dallas. And a lot of people buying up those houses and redoing them,” she adds. There was the fellow in Alta Dena, California, who wanted a batch of her paintings for a tour of homes. And than there’s a French couple with a house in Tahiti, who are partial to the beach cabana scenes (replete with a LaCoste– ish alligator as bartender). When Tillman started adding cars with fins to her paintings, she started attracting a younger, male clientele, typically in their 30s and 40s. “Younger people are interested in the old cars, I think because stuff now has a sameness about it,” she reflects. She recently sold a 20-by-30-inch The Art & Soul of Greensboro
painting of airplanes with vintage livery on their tales — Piedmont, PanAm, Delta, among others — crowded on a runway; an air-traffic controller’s nightmare, but an aviation buff’s dream. And Airstream enthusiasts have reason to celebrate, too: Tillman’s series of vintage RV parks (yes, including dogs), was used in Amazon retailer Hennessey’s line of jigsaw puzzles. (Another Christmas-themed puzzle is expected to be released during the holidays.) Meanwhile, Tillman stays busy painting houses, pools and dogs. “I try to introduce new things here and there,” she says, citing a guitar motif that she’s recently started exploring. Like a Van Gogh in Vacationland, she expects the demand for everything Mid-Century to continue and evolve. And as long as it does, she’ll ride the trend’s wild surf, with Oona and Traveler along to keep her company. OH To see what Linda Tillman is releasing each week, check her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/artist.linda.tillman/ Or follow her on Etsy and eBay: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LTillmanArt) or http://stores.ebay.com/ALT-Gallery Though her aesthetic is a far cry from Mid-Century Modern, Nancy Oakley is fond of Labs and Golden Retrievers. July 2016
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Gaga for Googie A sweet remembrance of the Gate City’s love affair with a far-out architectural style
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he American Look. The architectural equivalent of a riot, an audacious departure from a dignified brick-and-mortar past. A-frames of questionable proportions, horizontal and vertical lines jutting outward with abstract angularity, ticky-tacky accents in steel, plastic and glass with disparate splashes of color, generally pink or aquamarine, dressed up with flashing neon and tinted florescent bulbs. Where Modernism and Art Deco collided and neither gave an inch. One critic derisively labeled these ostentatious displays of Space Age kookiness “Googie.” The name stuck. The name and the style can be traced back to a Los Angeles coffee shop. Other influences include the city’s ultra-sleek supersonic drive-in theaters, bigfinned car washes of the 1950s, including that spaceship-looking thing at LAX — all exhibitionistic attempts to grab the attention of a driver speeding down
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CAROL W. MARTIN/GREENSBORO HISTORICAL MUSEUM COLLECTION.
By Billy Ingram
the boulevard with the top down, soundtrack by Getz, Cugat and Esquivel. Being as far removed from California culture as possible, it’s somewhat surprising that Greensboro became home to a menagerie of unabashedly futuristic structures. Edward Loewenstein designed a number of way-out residences in the Googie spirit, including his own spectacular Tomorrowland on Granville Road sporting exposed metal supports, multi-shaped stone flourishes and colossal, outward-swooping windows. You half expect to see Will Robinson from Lost in Space along with his roly-poly Robot rounding the corner. Ground zero for the Brylcreem-slicked hip kids in the ’50s and ’60s was Honey’s. Originally named McClure’s, the drive-in restaurant on High Point Road turned heads with its wide-open, A-front entrance resembling a spear bursting through the ground, rounded glass dining areas on either side, zigzag carports and, coolest of all, the glass-enclosed Sky Castle lit by blue fluorescents where Al Troxler, Jerry Oakley and Dusty Dunn broadcast the The Art & Soul of Greensboro
pointing towards two elongated golden semicircles rising into and out of a wedge-shaped, brushed steel, glass and tile moon base. Food franchises originating closer to home embraced their inner futurist. Hardee’s (“Home of the Huskee”) out of Greenville promised “Jet Service” in the ’60s under a towering sloping frontage, then gorged on Googie in the ’70s with a circular undulating roofline pitching up and down like a circus tent with a center spire tapering to a point two stories high. The fluorescent openness of a California coffee klatch was what Winston-Salem’s Krispy Kreme aspired to when they envisioned our Battleground donut factory, fronted by a chrome and glass diner under a soaring triple-pitched roof. The Krispy Kreme logo and signage were and are the quintessence of Googie. An economy stoked on postwar productivity gains and unprecedented consumer demand led to Googie infliltrating everyday life: round portable grills, brightly enameled appliances with streamlined dials, baby blue blenders, Presto percolators, horizontal music consoles with pointed footprints. The martini glass. Otherwise conservative automobile manufacturers allowed a smattering of their more far-out machinations to go into production: the bat-winged, impossibly outstretched ’60 Caddy and the arrow-headed angularity of that year’s Chevy Impala. The bullet-shaped ’62 Thunderbird Roadster with lit-up fighter jet fins where chrome was coin of the realm, lavished on wraparound bumpers, a front grill and instrument panel with bulbous, spaceship gauges. If all those 1950s sci-fi movies were right, and space aliens were coming, we’d want them to feel at home, right? They’d definitely need a place to spend the night. Before high-rise hotels began resurfacing around Greensboro in the 1970s, the city was home to a number of resort lodges and motels, many in the
hits over AM 1320 WCOG (Wonderful City of Greensboro). Country music legend Billy “Crash” Craddock’s first single was on the Sky Castle label, and he once described the the scene there: “We teenagers all would go out there and park at the Sky Castle, we’d order hamburgers and whatnot and listen to the radio. The deejay took requests. That was a pretty cool place. Kind of reminded you of that TV show, Happy Days.” Honey’s is long gone, replaced by an Olive Garden. Googie was reflected in a serpentine concrete awning that waved over the very first class at Walter Hines Page High School in 1958 (still in use). It graced the fanciful Terrace Theatre at Friendly Shopping Center erected in 1966 with a 180-degree Ultravison screen and a high-ceilinged glass and metal lobby. And it lured shoppers to Golden Gate Shopping Center with a sign that beckoned with reach-for-the-stars enthusiasm. Many of our Googies were imports. From the ’50s until the mid-’60s grabbing a burger and fries meant parking and walking up to a counter to order. You could eat in your car or sit at one of a half dozen concrete benches and tables in the center of the parking lot. Part of the early appeal of fast food outlets stemmed from their distinctive 25th-century signage and dingbat exteriors luring motorists in: Biff-Burger’s winged roofline and diamond shaped embellishments, Pizza Hut’s alternating triangles of smoked glass and wood paneling topped by a vivid red Lego, the dancing neon footwork of Speedee McDonald The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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whimsical Googie style that was all the roadside rage in the 1950s and ’60s. A quiet alternative to downtown’s multistoried (in more ways than one) O.Henry and King Cotton hotels, these motor courts offered poolside cabanas surrounded by wide open spaces, furnished with modern amenities like air conditioning, Color TV, a private telephone and Magic Fingers vibrating beds. At the General Greene (later Americana) Motel an office with two-story high vertical windows was shaded by an acutely angled white A-frame, the latter half of which served as a sweeping porte-cochere suspended by four thin iron poles. Like an errant slalom you could ski right into the kidney-shaped pool. Smith’s Ranch Motel’s exaggerated rooflines and southwestern adobe chimney were augmented by a bubbling, slanted canopy; Albert Pick’s intensely crimson lobby featured mad-mod seating; and Travel Inn’s starburst-topped sign ended in a red neon arrowhead. Do you remember Howard Johnson’s triple A-framed office; a teardrop-shaped pool at Holiday Inn; or the Sands Motel logo ripped off from the famous Vegas resort. All très Googie. On the corner next door to The Towers apartments (now the Hampshire) in 1964 was the King’s Inn with its compact L-shaped configuration, center parking, and rooms fronted with glass above turquoise panels. This was mimicked in a T-square layout at West Market and Mendenhall, which today is Greensboro College student housing. (In the 1980s George K’s superb restaurant was located where the former Towne House Motor Lodge’s dining room plated Continental cuisine.) Built when Battleground Avenue was a wooded outskirt, the Journey’s End and Maplewood Motel were far more provincial, unironically rustic, with only hints of stylishness. The last of the streamlined motor courts still offers morning maid service on Summit Avenue. In its heyday the Oaks Motel was where musical acts on tour and athletes, including the Green Bay Packers, often stayed. (See Sidebar). As the city went forth and multiplied, the motels on Battleground found themselves luxuriating on real estate that was highly coveted by national retail chains. They had to go. Still, the Googie-lite coffee shop in front of Journey’s End remains blissfully intact, rechristened long ago as Your House. And the rest? Sonic’s plasticized affectations notwithstanding, you’ll have to look hard to find lingering examples of vintage Googie still dotting the cityscape, one
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pristine example being the pointed sign and turquoise splendor of the 1964 era Beaman Building near the intersection of Independence and Lawndale Drive in Kirkwood. Witness a cornucopia of UNC-Googie: the impressionistic cathedral-like window banks embedded into the sides of Grogan, Cone and Reynolds dorms; the imposing curvature of the metal and glass superstructure surrounding the modernistic Anna M. Grove Student Health Center; whimsical horizontal windows and pylon-accented façades rising up in the front and back of one of UNCG’s nursery school. On the corner of Lindsay and North Elm a former doctor’s office, most recently occupied by blvd Interiors Marketplace, is equipped with a see-through lobby, brick glazed in variegated light shades and a protruding flat roof with embossed squares. A block farther north on Elm and Smith streets sits the most prominent example of our fleeting futurist flirtation, a study in savage modularity. This improbable but happy marriage of Populuxe and Brutalism reflected the avant themes California architects were indulging in when this Federal Home Loan Bank branch was erected in 1970. A Star Trek-ian white concrete upper level is ringed with enormous deeply recessed, tinted windows like inverted television screens, perched on an upwardly tapered base layered in Carolina fieldstone. Repetitious articulations highlight this minimalist monolith, further reflected in a cantilevered canopy suspended on impressive stony spires once used for drive-thru banking. Widely regarded as a white elephant by the 1990s this is one of the city’s gems. Across Lindsay is an attractive one-story office building with clean, mid-century lines. The extravagant Odd Fellows Lodge on Smith Street has copious vertical metalicized accents, crisp horizontals and an angular flagstone base closely associated with Googie, as does a tidy office duplex a block away at 416 Smith with a tilted overhang and a facade wrapped in rugged stone brickwork surrounding a steel and glass entrance. Next time you’re at Smith Street Diner take a moment to explore this area, an intersection in the 1950s known as O.Henry Square. Without an intervention this block is about to change radically, I suspect. The Golden Arches are long-gone but a former Burger Chef with one The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Dracula Meets Snow White
end of its roof hacked off is now serving Mexican dishes at Aycock and Gate City Boulevard Farther east a Biff-Burger has had its once exposed front and sides enshrined in glass, with the original sign out front modified to read “Beef Burger.” Just weeks ago the former Libby Hill on Summit was demolished, originally a nifty fifties Hot Shoppe drive-in built adjacent to the Oaks Motel with a desert diner look. A neon sign with an enormous curved arrow lit up the lot where groovy guys and gals frolicked in early-model cruisers, parking next to Electronic Teleray Car Service squawkboxes that relayed their food orders to the kitchen (What’ll they think of next?). Rollerskating car hops delivered double-decker Mighty Mo burgers, Teen Twists, onion rings and Orange Freezes curbside while the elders inside munched on Pappy Parker’s Smokey Mountain Fried Chicken. What was once ultra-moderne is now considered retro. What happened to the bright future in between, did I miss something? Architectural trends swell and fade but Googie, as a radiant reflection of postwar optimism and spunk, will remain tied to that period as those longago World’s Fair amazements. As an act of conspicuous rebellion it was fait accompli, once we realized flying cars weren’t forthcoming, after Jet Service was jettisoned for Have It Your Way, when fab begat pre-fab, all but the most subtle expressions of Googie were too defiantly cheeky to last into the future it portended, one decidedly darker and denser than the dancing florescent and neon iconography out front suggested. OH Billy Ingram’s book (mostly) about Old Greensboro, Hamburger (squared), is available this month at the Greensboro Historical Museum bookstore. Perfect for those summer bonfires, not for reading so much as kindling. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
When Dusty Dunn cued up “Pleasant Valley Sunday” for the first time on Wednesday, July 12, 1967, a tune that would soon rocket to No. 3 on the WCOG (“Go Go 1-3-2-0!”) pop chart, the artists who recorded it were lounging by the pool at Oaks Motel. In the event over-excited fans grew unwieldy, two armed police officers stood by, remarking out loud that The Monkees looked like a bunch of “queers.” After a swim and pictures with the few youngsters allowed into the compound they had commandeered, Micky Dolenz and Peter Tork were joined in Michael Nesmith’s suite by opening act Jimi Hendrix, dressed for his appearance that night at the Greensboro Coliseum in black crushed velvet pants, leather boots and an orange brocade silk shirt, a string of wooden beads swung around his neck. He’d spent that hot, humid afternoon in his air-conditioned room with a six-pack of Budweiser playing Beatles songs. Sitting on the edge of an unmade bed, Hendrix picked up Nesmith’s guitar (the TV star had just learned to play it) and jammed as the guys and their “birds” looked on in amazement. It was the oddest pairing in music history, one that Hendrix himself likened to “putting Dracula with Snow White.” He had joined The Monkees tour three performances earlier in Florida, and the gig was considered a big break for him. But the rowdy reception from teenyboppers who screamed for Davy Jones throughout his smoking set that included “Foxy Lady”and “Purple Haze” was disastrous for all concerned. It was especially embarrassing for Dolenz and Tork who used their leverage to get Jimi on the summer of ’67’s hottest ticket. While some remember Hendrix being booed off the Coliseum stage, others recall a raucous reception from those audience members who knew who he was. What no one forgot was that Hendrix, for the first time since shocking audiences at the Monterrey Pop Festival with this move just a month earlier, lit his guitar on fire and destroyed it at the end of his set. Offstage the performers had nothing but love for one another. Peter Tork had this to say about hanging out with the greatest rock guitarist of all time at Oaks Motel, “He was such a sweet guy that it was really just a pleasure to have him around for company. His air of, ‘Everything’s alright. Things are cool. It’s okay,’ just made you relax just to be around him.” With no air conditioning in the Coliseum, it took eighty policemen ringing the stage to hold back a screaming crowd that drowned out the main attraction with their desperate pleas for some imagined romantic encounter. After the show, The Monkees and Jimi Hendrix Experience boarded a private plane emblazoned with the TV show logo waiting at the Greensboro airport for a champagne flight into New York. Hendrix would exit the tour abruptly after three more dates, walking out in disgust, middle finger extended while silly youngsters chanted, “We want Davy!” Only the Oaks Motel remains as a reminder of the California resortlike lodging that was all the rage back when babies were booming. Gone are any signs of Cold War era modernity, even the kidney-shaped pool is filled in with dirt, trees planted where once Monkees’ knees were planted lounging under tall shade trees. No one at the Oaks seems to remember which room Jimi Hendrix stayed in. It was fifty years ago. – B.I. July 2016
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— Garden Life —
The Power of ol’ Sol One man’s love affair with Summer’s quintessential flower By Ross Howell jr.
L
ast summer my Fisher Park neighbor Brantley McLendon got me thinking about sunflowers, and I put in my first seeds ever. Brant was notorious for planting sunflowers near street signs, by sidewalks, or next to abandoned brick piles. He planted anywhere he discovered a patch of open ground, sometimes surreptitiously in the dead of night, earning the nickname, the “Sunflower Bandit.” Brant prefers to think of himself as “Johnny Sunflower Seed,” playing on the name of our American hero of childhood lore. And I’d say he’s earned the right. Scion of an old Greensboro family whose ancestors include a legend in the hunt for Pancho Villa during the Mexican Revolution, a state senator, and a respected judge, Brant has served in the U.S. Navy, navigated a sailboat across the Gulf of Mexico, earned a commercial pilot’s license and was once homeless while struggling with addiction. Now, he tends brick-edged flower beds he’s fashioned with owners’ permission in front of businesses and apartments along Bessemer Avenue.
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It was his mother, Maria Lavinia, a Louisiana girl with the nickname “Chick,” who first got Brant interested in sunflowers. “There were beds along a stone walkway at our house,” Brant recalls. “And one spring, I think I was about 14, my mother brought me these seed packets. She said if I planted them along the walkway, they’d grow into enormous flowers.” His face brightens as he recounts the event. “Well, I planted those seeds, and I’ll bet I checked them every half hour to see if they’d sprouted. I watered and watered. And here grew these giant plants, 8, 9 feet tall, with big yellow flowers, and everybody commented on how beautiful they were.” He smiled. “When you’re a kid, things like that make an impression on you.” “Sunflowers are spiritual, you know?” he says. “They reach toward the sun, like they’re reaching to God, and they turn their faces, following the sun, like they’re following God.” I remembered, listening, that it was my mother who first got me interested in sunflowers, too. She favored the giant ones, saving their seeds for the winter feeder by her window, cardinals, chickadees, titmice, and evening grosbeaks sampling the buffet as big snowflakes fell, dusting their feathers. Her sunflowers grew 10, even 12 feet tall, with seed heads so broad it seemed miraculous the plants could support them. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
“Add soil as they grow,” Brant suggests. “Say you add 6 inches of topsoil? That root is going to spread another ten inches.” Brant favors the tall, broad-shouldered yellow sunflowers. I go for the modest sizes myself, heights of 5, 6 feet, because I like to cut flowers for my wife, Mary Leigh. I’ve already planted two varieties of yellow sunflower and another one that’s red. The red sunflowers have faces of red, orange and ocher. They’re more finicky than the yellow and want more care. Red sunflowers are also sensitive to summer’s heat, even if they’re carefully watered. Still, I like working with them, and maybe I’ll get better at understanding their needs. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
But give the big yellow sunflowers a little water and plenty of soil, and they can take pretty much anything old Mr. Sol can beam down. And their stalks support burdens that sometimes seem impossible. In late summer they stand tall and regal, resilient and undaunted, among flowers frumpy and withered by circumstance. That’s what I like about them. I bet that’s what Brantley McLendon likes, too. OH Ross Howell Jr. is catching up on his reading, starting a new novel, and anxious to hear from O.Henry readers about favorite fall or winter plants, shrubs, and trees. July 2016
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La Vie en Bleue Brooke Harwood’s French — but hardly Provincial — condo Cynthia Adams • Photographs by Amy Freeman
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“I
t’s so easy being me,” jokes the unpretentious Brooke Harwood, who is quite happily an only child. She chalks up her sunny disposition to her parents’ closeness and mutual support of her. She also attributes her love of beautiful things to them — most specifically, to her mother, Brenda. Her mother’s hand is visible at Harwood’s King’s Arms condo off Banking Street, where an inlaid chinoserie coffee table has pride of place in Harwood’s living room. The unusual, even rare, table has subtle touches of aqua — Harwood’s favorite color. Chinoserie and Asian influences are her favorite ways to imprint style when it comes to designing a room, she explains Style is something the tall, lively blonde has in spades. Her life is a lighthearted balance of vocation and avocation and sheer bonhomie. She not only works part-time, styling and advising for her own clients, but also at the Shoppes on
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Patterson and at Carriage House Antiques in Greensboro. Harwood’s easy laugh and joie de vivre are even more dominant than the exuberant pops of aqua punctuating her 1,300-square-foot abode. She wears her favorite color with white slacks and gives a tour of the place she has called home for fourteen years. Her collectibles — porcelain figurines and china by Herend, antique boxes, leather books, artwork, Foo dogs, antique papier mâché, and objets d’art — demonstrate her passion for “the hunt.” Also, they reveal Harwood’s good eye. “I have a full attic. It’s great for a hoarder,” she wisecracks. Harwood’s personal furnishings and collections are the outcome of years of working in antiques, becoming an avid yard sale goer and furniture “picker,” while also working in consignment businesses in the Triad. (She also pet sits for a privileged few. Pets are as much a passion as the finest antique or vintage find.) July 2016
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Passion is in Harwood’s DNA. Her parents were childhood sweethearts who met at Grimsley High School. Like her father, Rocky, she enrolled at the other Carolina, University of South Carolina, and became a Gamecock —until she decamped for the genuine article at UNC-Chapel Hill to study English. Here she became an unofficial lover of all things vintage, scouting out her first finds and developing her collector’s eye. Previously, when Harwood lived in Columbia, S.C., she led a different, more prescribed life with little room for her creative self to thrive. “I once worked in the corporate world. I would occasionally write for the CEO. And I still write some children’s stories,” she says. But when she returned to Greensboro and worked for Anne Carlson in the antiques business, she left her corporate self behind for good. “That is where I got to do what I love,” Harwood stresses. And it shows in her condo, with its prime view of the pool and central courtyard. Its deep dentil molding, painted a creamy white, and other refined features spoke to her. The living room fireplace was added by the former owner. He installed the deep moldings and the plantation shutters. He also installed recessed lighting,” Harwood points out. Special features such as these mean her condo is unlike any other. Since moving here in 2002 (purchasing the unit after her parents had considered it for her grandmother years earlier), Harwood gave the space her own punch and flourish. It now possesses a Southern eclectic style, much in the way that New Orleans shotgun houses exemplify tradition with a kicky twist. Harwood manages to emulate the way that New Orleans style packs a lot of panache into smaller spaces. It’s a look that blends seamlessly with this tight-knit community of condos, built originally as apartments by businessman Gene Johnston to deliberately emulate French style. At the time, “French Provincial” interiors and furnishings were sufficiently popular to the point of challenging Mid-Century Modern’s long reign. “We should all decorate in French style, as these places were intended to be French,” Harwood observes.
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As evidenced by the exteriors. Johnston planned the community with the help of an architect named A. D. Woodroof Jr. Tucked onto 3.5 acres in Irving Park, the property was obviously created with a determination that it would read French. Woodroof even commissioned a coat of arms, which he had designed and made by Fischer & Jirouch Company in Cleveland, specialists in architectural ornaments. It still proudly stands above the arched entrance to one of the buildings. A brick wall encircling the project imparts a sense of a walled village one might see in Normandy or the Languedoc. Harwood loves that the condo she lives in has a history of its own. She brandishes an article written in 2009 by fellow resident Harvey Lineberry, whose research of King’s Arms has spawned so many photocopies of the article that much of it is barely legible. According to his research, the project was built in 1965 by Wilson Brothers
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Lumber Company in Rural Hall. In 1966, a July 14 article in The Greensboro Record says that Greensboro was experiencing an apartment building boom, and points to the King’s Arms project as a prime example. The complex is described as a “top example of the newer trend” of luxury apartments. For one thing, all the apartment units were air-conditioned. They were also carpeted. And they contained details, such as the high ceilings, crown molding that Harwood so loves. Johnston, planned the project as an unmistakable nod to Montbéliard, Greensboro’s sister city in eastern France, where the Lorillard family originated. Woodroof incorporated 18th-century French design into the apartments’ exteriors. He designed the twenty-two units, some with one level, others with two, around a pool. Each of the development’s buildings were named after a French The Art & Soul of Greensboro
landmark, such as The Court of Red Lion, The Court of St. Martin and The Montbéliard Building, which possessed the most French-looking façade. The 4-foot defining wall enclosed the apartments and “considerable amount of wrought iron” was the final flourish conveying the village feel. Johnston, Harwood believes, was designing the units with his own mother in mind. According to Harwood, she was among the first King’s Arms residents. In a letter dated August 21, 1964, Johnston requested that Woodroof consider walk-in showers for safety’s sake, “much safer for an older person than tub showers, as the danger of falling is not so great.” Although Harwood’s own grandmother nearly wound up living there as well, she bought her own condo because she considered it “a hidden little secret.” It was one that contained so many nice surprises. “It is so much better than expected.” She chuckles. “I always call it the geriatric Melrose Place. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
When I bought it, I was the youngest person.” Harwood’s youthful energy is evident in the furnishings she has assembled: a mix of the acquired and the hunted down. An oak desk in the living room is one she bought for $100 when she was a college student in Chapel Hill. “It was green — when I refinished it I discovered it was tiger oak! The things that speak to me aren’t going to speak to others.” And yet, of course, they do. The painting over Harwood’s mantel is something her mom bought in the 1990s. It is, by Harwood’s admission, “a bit feminine, but I love it.” It features aqua French doors with a well-set table — and an aquamarine seascape in the background. The mantel features vintage sconces, white Foo dogs, sea coral, translucent Venetian birds (a gift from realtor and long-time friend Jim Howard) and an antique box. (Harwood has collected more than a hundred boxes.) During the interview, she brings out a smooth white wine and appetizers July 2016
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from Maria’s catering business around the corner on Lawndale. Harwood is a born hostess. Her house is always open to visitors, and neighbors knock on the door, dropping by with news or a quick hello. An upholsterer stops by with cushions for vintage rattan pieces Harwood plans to resell. She waves them inside, welcoming them for a drink. “I have so many girlfriends who say, ‘Brooke, I dreamed of your condo last night.’ Everybody likes to come here.” The suede brown walls and coppery brown ceiling of the main room balance the feminine — the end result gives Harwood’s interiors enough masculinity that sports fans congregate comfortably here throughout football season. On Saturday game days, which Harwood loves to host in her King’s Arms condo, friends and family gather to cheer on the Gamecocks or Tar heels. Her long-time boyfriend, David Anderson, is always among them. His home is larger, she adds, but even Anderson prefers to meet at King’s Arms. She never thinks twice about sweeping aside her collections to make room for a wide-screen television atop an 1800s chest — for Harwood, her house is a spirited, happy gathering place and the more the merrier. She prefers to be a hostess over being a guest elsewhere. Slipcovers make for forgiving interiors, she smiles. She slipcovered her sofas and side chairs in a beige canvas, which automatically imparts a cottage style to her condo. She explains how she doesn’t ever mind spills as a result, nor has she ever cared to fuss over fine upholstery. As much as Harwood values her collectibles and furnishings, she values relationships far more. “We hang the Gamecock flag out and have a big time here. It’s much smaller than my parents’ place but everybody comes here to mine for game day. We watch every single Carolina football game right here,” says Harwood, her hand patting the living room sofa. “It’s where everybody likes to come, but it’s the smallest home of everybody’s. It’s about coziness. It is the coziest!” What is it that creates cozy? Harwood bites her lip in concentration and speculates. Is it the earth tones on the wall? The breezy style, which marries high and
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low in a casual way? The sheer exuberance that Harwood’s eclecticism conveys? It is probably all of these, Harwood guesses. “I got those Lucite lamps beside the living room sofa at Target, and then I bought high-end (aqua) shades for them,” she says. “I have a lamp thing — if I like it, I like it.” A much-loved alabaster lamp (“one of my first finds”) sits nearby on a Mid-Century curved piece on another living room wall. An Asian garden stool is another Target find. Her rooms read “collected” versus “decorated.” A hanging cupboard in her dining room is possibly Harwood’s favorite item in her home. She filled it with Herend china that she collected over years. “I asked for a piece every Christmas and occasion,” Harwood adds. It is one of the only things in her home that is so precious that she is hesitant to use it. Although she loves elegant things, Harwood also values comfort. And she treats her home like an ongoing project — the master bedroom is currently being redone. The house has always evolved this way, with Harwood further nipping and tucking and adjusting rooms to accommodate a new find. Afterward, she throws wide the door and invites friends inside. To make the most of what she considers minimal space, Harwood says she is always seeking ways to maximize every square inch. A vintage rattan game table in the living room provides entertainment space. An antique card table also expands her options. She turned the second bedroom into a den, which features a striking Embassy Club sign on one wall, and more seating. Yes, it is the coziest, perhaps a consequence of Harwood’s determination to follow her bliss all those years ago. In the antiques business, she found happiness. She sighs happily as proof. “Now, I get to be with animals and furniture.” Then, Harwood pops a cork, tops up our wine glasses and toasts the future with, quoi d’autre? A crisp French white. OH Cynthia Adams, a contributing editor to O.Henry, tends to pour hearty French red wine for her guests. Failing that, she’ll pour whatever she found on sale at Trader Joe’s. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
THE SUMMER
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O.Henry 77
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ohalloranphysicaltherapy.com 78 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
By Rosetta Fawley
Swing Low
It’s Hammock Day on July 22. That’s a Friday. Why it’s not on the weekend is a mystery to the Almanac. She can only think that it’s to increase the decadence of the occasion. Go on, award yourself the day off. If you need to a buy a hammock to prepare for your day of swinging in the shade, then you have quite a choice. This time of year a rope hammock might be more comfortable than a fabric one. But the fabric hammocks are pretty. Have a look at Mayan hammocks. They’re made of brightly colored cord and they’re very strong. You can fit a few friends in there. Why indulge in Hammock Day alone? More than one person in a hammock equals a hammock party.
Plum in the middle
Japanese plums (Prunus salicina and Prunus triflora) are in season this month. Be sure to harvest them when they’re fully ripe. You’ll have to keep going back to the trees as the fruit ripen at different times. Wait until the skin feels soft and gives a little under gentle pressure. They should easily twist off the branches. If this is the first year for your plum tree, mid-summer is the best time for pruning. Japanese plums respond best to an open center shape. Cut back shoots on the top of the tree by two or three buds. Come back about a month later. Choose three main branches, equally spaced, and cut back anything growing around them. This trinity will be the tree’s main branches. Next year, in the early summer, cut back the branches in the middle of the tree so they’re short. Prune any shoots coming out below your three main branches too. The year after next, cut back the younger branches to maintain the tree’s shape. If yours is an established tree, then you already know all this and you’re harvesting. Plums keep well in the fridge. Don’t save them for breakfast; you know what will happen.
Tinker, Tailor Soldier, Sailor, Rich man, Poor man, Beggar man, Thief.
This, too, is that kindliest of arts which makes requital tenfold in kind for every work of the laborer. She is the sweet mistress who, with smile of welcome and outstretched hand, greets the approach of her devoted one, seeming to say, Take from all thy heart’s desire. She is the generous hostess; she keeps open house for the stranger. For where else, save in some happy rural seat of her devising, shall a man more cheerily cherish content in winter, with bubbling bath and blazing fire? or where, save afield, in summer rest more sweetly, lulled by babbling streams, soft airs, and tender shades? From The Oeconomicus by Xenophon, ca. 360BC. Translation by H.G. Dakyns
Gardening Comes Before a Fall
Too energetic for Hammock Day? Well, there’s no rest for the wicked, they say. While all around you are snoring and swaying gently in the shade, you can start planning — and planting — your fall vegetable garden. Carrot seeds can go in this month, as can pole and bush snap peas, winter squash and rutabaga. Put in beets toward the end of July, Brussels sprouts too. At that time you can also plant collards as seeds or transplants, cabbage as transplants only. And this is the last month for planting cantaloupes, so make the most of them for fall. Don’t forget a few pumpkin transplants. It seems a long way off now, but you’ll be glad you did come Halloween. OH
Traditional English rhyme for counting fruit stones The Art & Soul of Greensboro
June 2016
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July 2016 Three cheers for the red, white and blue
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July 1 REGISTER NOW. Calling all planters, diggers and green thumbs: Reserve your space at the fifteenth annual Gardening Gala and Seminar (September 22 at 8:30 a.m.) hosted by Guilford County Extension Master Gardener Volunteer Association. Cooperative Extension Center, 3309 Burlington Road, Greensboro. To register: (336) 641-2400 or guilford.ces.ncsu.edu. TGIF. 5 p.m. Treat the kiddies to some fun at Wrangler Family Friday — for a mere $2. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com. EMF. 8 p.m. The Opening Night Gala Concert weaves a spell with “The Magic of Mozart,” as in Overture to The Marriage of Figaro, Symphony No. 41 in C major and more. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org. SHAKE, RATTLE AND ROLL. 10 p.m. Move and groove at Pop Up Dance Studio, with DJ Jessica
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Magnificent Sevens
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Mashburn spinning tunes. Print Works Bistro, 702 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 379-0699.
July 1–17 LIGHT’S OUT. Last chance to see Ansel Adams: Eloquent Light, before it goes, uh, dark. Reynolda House Museum of American Art, 2250 Reynolda Road, Winston-Salem. Tickets: (888) 663-1149 or reynoldahouse.org.
July 1– 30 HAPPY CAMPERS. Treat your little ones to a camp experience they’ll cherish throughout July and August, depending on availability. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. To register: (336) 574-2898, extension 302 or gcmuseum.com.
July 1–September 4 THE NATURALS. Five gifted artists are the focus of Inside the Outside: Five Self-Taught Artists from the
Louis C.K.
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Louis-Dreyfus Foundation. Weatherspoon Museum of Art, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3345770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.
July 1–September 19 ELLSWORTH-Y. Catch two shows with a common thread: Matisse Drawings Curated by Ellsworth Kelly from The Pierre and Tana Matisse Foundation Collection and Plant Lithographs by Ellsworth Kelly 1964–1966. Weatherspoon Museum of Art, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.
July 1–October 16 I-CONE-IC. Lithographs and bronze sculptures take center stage at Henri Matisse: Selections from the Claribel and Etta Cone Collection. Weatherspoon Museum of Art, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July Arts Calendar
Oliver!
Josh Groban
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July 2 & 3
WIDE A-WAKE. See fifty years of art collecting at With Open Eyes: The Wake Forest University Student Union Collection of Contemporary Art. SECCA, 750 Marguerite Drive, Winston-Salem. Info: (336) 7251904 or secca.org.
WHERE THERE’S A QUILL THERE’S A WAY. 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. Practice your John Hancock with quill and ink. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 8851859 or highpointmusuem.org.
SLURRRP! 8 a.m. Dare to eat one: It’s Peach Day Celebration, featuring juicy wonders from Phillips, Leonard and Chapelle Farms. Stick around for Kids’ First Saturday at 10 a.m. Greensboro Farmers’s Curb Market, 502 Yanceyveille Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org. EMF. 8 p.m. Isn’t it romantic? Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Overture – Fantasy and Brahms’ Piano Conceto No. 1 in D minor top the bill. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
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July 1–October 30
July 2
Colvin & Earl
July 3 EMF. 3 p.m. Mozart, Hindemith, Schumann. Violinist Nadja Solerno-Sonnenberg leads a Faculty Chamber Series concert. UNCG School of Music, Theatre and Dance, 100 McIver Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org. GRAND OLD PARTY. 6 p.m. As in, a downtown celebration to kick off Independence Day. Register for the 10K Freedom Run, starting at 7:30 p.m. or the 1-mile Firecracker Road Race for families, which begins at 7:45. Then throw down to the tunes of Sleeping Booty Band at a block party at Greene Street Circle. Info: funfourthfestival.com.
7/
EMF. 6 p.m. Enjoy a Young Artists Piano Recital, gratis. Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org.
July 4 WITH LIBRIS FOR ALL. 10 a.m. Browse for previously loved tomes at the Half-Price Used Book Sale. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. THREE CHEERS FOR THE RED, WHITE AND BLUE. 2 p.m. Celebrate Independence Day at the Fun Fourth Street Festival downtown, with vendors, games and food, plus a free concert by the UHOP Trombone Band and fireworks. Info: funfourthfestival.com. MUSEP 7 p.m. Music and fireworks, who could ask for anything more? Catch the Fun 4th Fireworks Pops Concert. White Oak Amphitheatre, Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Info: musep.info. July 2016
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July Arts Calendar Empowering Dreams. Embracing Legacies.
July 4–10 HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. NewBridge Bank Park, 408 Bellemeade Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2682255 or www.milb.com.
July 5 EMF. 8 p.m. Telemann tops the bill at the EMF Tuesday Chamber Series. Dana Auditorium. 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
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July 6 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet novelist Nancy Stancill, author of Winning Texas. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
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TO BIEBS OR NOT TO BIEBS. 7:30 p.m. Justin Bieber rules the stage for his Purpose World Tour — as long as you don’t snap any photos of him. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tiickets: 800-745-3000 or ticketmaster.com. EMF. 8 p.m. Concerto in G minor for String and Harpsichord, Concerto in E minor for Bassoon, another for Two Violins in A minor. Catch “Viva Vivaldi!” First Presbyterian Chuurch, 617 North Elm Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 7 MAGNIFICENT SEVENS. Get acquainted with the creative minds in the state at 7Squared, an exhibition of N.C. artists of all ages and skill levels who have submitted works measuring 7 by 7 inches. InFocus Gallery, Greenhill, 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org.
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EMF. 8 p.m. Bach and Mahler, Bach and Mahler, go together like a dog and collar. The Young Artists Orchestra tunes up. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2720160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 8
EMF. 8 p.m. Bach and Mahler, Bach and Mahler, go together like whoop and holler. In case you missed it, catch another performance of the Young The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July Arts Calendar
Artists Orchestra. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2720160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 9 HAPPY DAYS. 11 a.m. Don your poodle skirts, slick your hair in a pompadour and get ready to rock around the clock at a Fabulous ’50s Flashback, celebrating American pop culture during the Eisenhower era. Greensboro Historical Museum, 130 Summit Avenue, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3732043 or greensborohistory.org. LINGER PICKIN’ GOOD! 6:30 p.m. Jazz doesn’t get much better than the riffs from Thomas Linger Quartet. Hear ’em at Select Jazz Saturdays. O.Henry Hotel, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 354-2000 or ohenryhotel.com. EMF. 8 p.m. Schwarz and all! Meaning père et fils, Gerard the conductor and Julian the cellist, who bring it with Barber, Dvořář k, Vivaldi and Beethoven. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly
Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 11 EMF. 8 p.m. Allegro. Andante. Rondo and Allegro Moderato. Move to the movements of Mozart’s Piano Quartet in G minor, among other selections at a Faculty Chamber Music Series concert. UNCG Theatre of Music, Dance and Theatre, 100 McIver Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 9, 10, 23 & 24 IRON EFFICIENCY. 10 a.m. (7/9 and 23) and 1 p.m. (7/10 and 24) Where there’s smoke, there’s . . . the Blacksmith! Get stoked. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.
July 12
July 10 EMF. 3 p.m. The young ’uns are all keyed up. Catch a free, Young Artists Piano Recital. Founders Hall, Sternberger Auditorium, Guilford College. 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org. MUSEP. 6 p.m. The Zinc Kings serve up some bluegrass, followed by Southern rockers Carolina Coalmine at 7:15 p.m. Yeehaaa! Guilford Courthouse Military Park, 2332 New Garden Road, Greensboro. Info: musep.info.
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EMF. 8 p.m. Bach’s Brandenburg Concerti (No. 6 in B-flat major and No. 4 in G major) bookend the program of another Faculty Chamber recital. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 13 EMF. 3 p.m. The young guns are in the house! Catch a Young Artists Chamber Recital, free of charge. Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org.
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July Arts Calendar
EMF. 8 p.m. Opera stars Jill Bowen Gardner, Stephanie Davis Foley and Scott McLeod, under the direction of Greensboro Opera’s David Holley, sing selections by Bizet, Verdi, Menotti and musical theater favorites at “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.” Temple Emanuel, 1129 Jefferson Road, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 14 SLOW JAM. 6 p.m. An Adult Cooking Class teaches you how to preserve summer in a can with a tutorial on making jams, chutneys and pickles. Greensboro Children’s Musuem, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. To register: (336) 5742898 or gcmuseum.com. EMF. 8 p.m. Young Artists Orchestra pour on the passion in a concert of Tchaikovsky’s Suite from Swan Lake and Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10 in E minor. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 15 LOUIS! LOUIS! 8 p.m. Comic Louis C.K. brings his Everyman shtick to the stage. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.
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EMF. 8 p.m. Russian Week continues for the Young Artists Orchestra, with a program that includes Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 15–24 TWIST-ED. Where is love? Find out at a Drama Center performance of Oliver!, the musical based on Charles Dickens’ novel Oliver Twist. Performance times vary. Weaver Academy Theater, 300 Spring Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 335-6426 or thedramacenter.com.
July 16 BLUEBERRY HILL. 8 a.m. Get cheap, $5 thrills at Blueberry Pancake and Celebration, featuring flapjacks by Alex Amoroso, plus live music and more. Info: (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.
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TIME TRAVEL. 8 a.m. Walk through the Washington Street district, once the a thriving business and entertainment district during segregaThe Art & Soul of Greensboro
tion, with historian Glenn Chavis as your guide. Changing Tides Cultural Center, 613 Washington Street, High Point. To register: (336) 885-1859. FOOD FOR THOUGHT. 2 p.m. and 4 p.m. Literally. Join the discussion of Michael Pollan’s Cooked for the WFDD/Scuppernong Book Club. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. VIBE NATION. 7:30 p.m. Lil Boosie, Ricco Barrino, Plies, Young Scooter and more turn up the heat at Summer Jams 16. White Oak Amphitheatre, Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com. EMF. 8 p.m. Ravel tops the bill in a concert by Eastern Festival Orchestra, with guest violist Cynthia Phelps. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2720160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 17 N.C. (I.S.) 2–4 p.m. Triad Chapter of Sisters in
Crime invites all mystery writers to learn how the N.C. Medical Examiner’s office works. High Point Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: murderwewrite.org. EMF. 3 p.m. Listen to a Young Artists Piano Recital at no charge. Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org. MUSEP. 6:30 p.m. Stick around on Founders Lawn to hear the EMF Young Artists Orchestras. 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: musep.info.
July 18 EMF. 8 p.m. Hear the sublime sounds of Mozart’s Piano Concerto in A major, Debussy’s Sonata for Flute, Viola and Harp, and Faure’s Piano Quartet in C minor at a Faculty Chamber concert. UNCG School of Music, Theatre and Dance Recital Hall, 100 McIver Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2720160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July Arts Calendar
July 19
AUTHORS, AUTHORS. 7 p.m. Meet Mary Dalton and Laura Linder, editors of The Sitcom Reader. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. JOSH B’GOSH. 7:30 p.m. Pop vocalist Josh Groban croons the night away. White Oak Amphitheatre, Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: 800-3453000 or livenation.com. EMF. 8 p.m. The Faculty Chamber Series mixes it up with Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 5, Carson Coonan’s Cones of Silence chorales and Hovaness’s Suite for Saxophone and Guitar, among others. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 20 WATER WORKS. 9:30 a.m. Kids with disabilities can cool off at the Greensboro Parks and Rec’s Summer Splash series. Space is limited. Barber Park
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July 2016
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88 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July Arts Calendar Sprayground, 1500 Dans Road, Greensboro. To register: (336) 373-2735. AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Julia Franks, author of Over the Plain Houses. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. EMF. 4 p.m. and 6:30 p.m. Listen for free at one of two (or both) Young Artists Chamber Recitals. Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org.
July 20–26
EMF. 8 p.m. The Young Artists Orchestra performs G.H. Stolzel, Richard Strauss and Ravel, with violinist Geoffrey Mutler joining in for Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 22 AUTHORS, AUTHORS. 6 p.m. Hear fresh, new literary voices at a UNCG Young Writers Camp reading. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
July 21
REEL ’EM IN. 7 p.m. Catch award-winning movies and the finalists of The BEST of Greensboro 48-Hour Film Project. Winners will compete in the national 48HFP finals (Filmapalooza). Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
EMF. 4 p.m. Guitarist Jason Vieaux pulls some strings for a free Master Class. Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org.
EMF. 8 p.m. Just say “da” to a program of Russian composers and more from Young Artists Ochestra. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. NewBridge Bank Park, 408 Bellemeade Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2682255 or www.milb.com
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July 23 SATURDAY WITH MORIE. 6:30 p.m. Meaning, Brenda Morie, Canadian chanteuse, guitarist, flautist and composer, who’ll be headlining Select Jazz Saturdays. O.Henry Hotel, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 854-2000 or ohenryhotel.com. EMF. 8 p.m. Eastern Festival Orchestra strikes up the long-awaited premiere by André Previn, and accompanies violinist James Ehnnes on the Strauss Violin Concerto in D minor. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org. FAB FOLKIES. 8 p.m. Together, they’ve been deemed “a perfect pairing.” Hear masters of folk/ country Shawn Colvin and Steve Earle. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
July 24 POKEZ-MAN. 11 a.m. Check out vintage and hand-made items at Pokez Super Flea. Homeland Lawn, Greensboro Farmer’s’ Curb Market, 501
July 2016
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July Arts Calendar
Yanceyville Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3732402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.
Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
EMF. It’s a free-for-all with a percussion ensemble recital (1 p.m.); Guitar Summit recital (2:15); Pianapalozza (3 p.m.); Conducting Fellowship (4 p.m.) and an EMFringe/MUSEP concert with Tuba Skinny and the Swamp Nots (6:30 p.m.). Various locations on the Guilford College campus, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org.
July 27
July 25 EMF. 8 p.m. The profs play everything from Mozart to Brahms at another Faculty Chamber Series concert. UNCG School of Music, Theatre and Dance, 100 McIver Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 26 EMF. Make, heh, room for two free Young Artists Chamber Recitals (1:30 p.m. and 6:15 p.m.) at Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall. Then bask in Bach at a Faculty Chamber Series concert at 8 p.m. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly
EMF. 6:30 p.m. A rising star tickles the ivories at a free Young Artists Piano Recital, Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College. 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org. AUTHORS, AUHTORS. 7 p.m. Meet LaShanda Millner-Murphy, Monique Stubbs-Hall and Melissa Baker, authors of Professionable: The Art of Being a Fashionable Professional. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. EMF. 8 p.m. Strumming is the name of the game at EMF Guitar Summit, Temple Emanuel, 1129 Jefferson Road, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2720160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 28 EMF. 8 p.m. Hear the crème de la crème as the
Young Artists Concerto Competition winners take the stage. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 28–30 HAL-OWED GROUND. If all the year were playing holidays;/To sport would be as tedious as to work. But be a good sport and catch Shakespeare in the park for Henry IV, Part I, courtesy of The Drama Center. Performance times vary. Amphitheatre at Gateway Gardens, 2924 East Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 335-6426 or thedramacenter.com.
July 29 BEAT IN THE HEAT. 5 p.m. The Dance Project presents a performance of West African drumming and dancing from Brown Recreation Center’s summer campers and Suah African Dance Theatre. Studio 323, Greensboro Cultural Arts Center, 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: danceproject.org.
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90 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
EMF. 8 p.m. Talent tunes up at a Young Artists Orchestra concert, featuring yet more winners of the Young Artists Concerto Competition. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 30 EMF. 1:30 p.m. Catch the last Young Artists Piano Recital — for free. Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org. A DECADE OF DEDICATION. 2 p.m. Hats off to Hannah’s Haven! The local chapter of Teen Challenge International and faith-based charity that helps troubled teenage girls is celebrating its tenth anniversary with a silent auction, food and more. Browns Summit. Info: facebook/hannahshaven CURSED WORDS. 10 p.m. Queue up for fun and games, Butter Beer, door prizes and the midnight release of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street,
Greensboro. Info: (336) Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. LAFF RIOT. 8 p.m. Split your sides laughing at the July edition of the Jabberwalk summer music and comedy series, which includes acts Red Mouth, Andy Forrester, Elemeno and more. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com. EMF. 8 p.m. Eastern Music Festival goes out with a bang, as Eastern Festival Orchestra, conductor Gerard Schwarz and pianist William Wolfram perform Aaron Copeland’s Symphonic Ode, Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 and appropriately, vignettes from Wagner’s Götterdämmerung. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
July 30 & 31 WA-WA. 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. Compete in a water bucket relay, operate a thumb hose and learn how early settlers manipulated H2O to irrigate their plants at “Fun With Water.” High Point Museum
July Arts Calendar
Historical Park, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.
July 31 MUSEP. 6 p.m. Celebrate the seventy-fifth anniversary of Gillespie Golf Course and Greensboro Parks and Recreation Month with some R&B, jazz and soul from Sweet Dreams, followed by the Rob Massengale band at 7:15 p.m. 306 East Florida Street, Greensboro. Info: musep.info.
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. CHAT-EAU. Noon. French leave? Au con-
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July Arts Calendar traire! Join French Table, a conversation group. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
Tuesdays READ ALL ABOUT IT. Treat your little ones to storytimes: BookWorms (ages 12–24 months) meets at 10 a.m.; Time for Twos meets at 11 a.m. Storyroom; Family Storytime for all ages meets at 6:30 p.m. High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com. PICKIN’ AND GRINNIN’. 6 until 9 p.m. Y’all come for Songs from a Southern Kitchen — live music featuring Laurelyn Dossett, Scott Manring and guests at Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen, 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3700707 or lucky32.com/greensboro_music.htm.
Wednesdays TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 7 a.m. until noon. The produce is fresh and the cut fleurs belles. They can be yours mid-week, through
December. Greensboro Farmers’ Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville Street, Greensboro. Info: gsofarmersmarket.org. FUN FLICKS. 9:30 a.m. Treat your tykes to a morning matinee at the eighth annual Carolina Kids Club, featuring Toy Story (7/13), Mulan (7/20) and Finding Nemo (7/27). Each screening will open with a performance by Mad Science and includes Legos courtesy of Bricks for Kidz. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com. MUSSELS, WINE & MUSIC. 7 until 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) 3790699 or printworksbistro.com/live_music.htm. ONCE UPON A TIME. 2 p.m. Afterschool Storytime convenes for children of all ages. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.
Thursdays TWICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Preschool Storytime convenes for children ages 3–5. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com. ALL THAT JAZZ. 5:30 until 8 p.m. Hear live, local jazz featuring Dave Fox and Neill Clegg, and special guests in the O. Henry Hotel Social Lobby Bar. No cover. 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 854-2000 or www.ohenryhotel.com/jazz.htm. JAZZ NIGHT. 7 p.m. Fresh-ground, freshbrewed coffee is served with a side of jazz at Tate Street Coffee House, 334 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 275-2754 or tatestreetcoffeehouse.com. 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) 2742699 or idiotboxers.com
Congratulations,
Class 2016 of
The Caldwell academy board, faculty, and staff would like to congratulate our 45 graduating seniors: Rachel Grace Augustine • Estelle Avbuere • Hailey Morgan Belk • Rachel Noel Bowden • Luke Anthony Burgess Lauren Elizabeth Buss • Stephen Covington Carlson • Carson Garrett Chrismon • Grace Rebekah Clifford Peighton Victoria Connor • John William Gibson • Rachel Ann Greenland • Anna Rebekah Hair Hannah Howerton Houser • Nathaniel Grant Howell • Ziqi Huang • Stella Igihozo • Peyton Rebecca Kadlecek Morgan Nicole Kenjarski • Madison Paige Kimble • Jesslyn Carole Dolores Kroenke • Yutong (Vincy) Li Taylor Michelle Lindsey • Caroline Marie Lombardino • Joseph Martyn McGee • Daniel Najarro Olivia Partlon Neeble • Emma Ruth Nigro • Jordan Blackwell Perez • Jordyn Taylor Quarandillo Teresa Ann Riess • Kalli Elizabeth Rose • Nicholas Reed Scarbrough • Gracyn McCauley Smith Landon Phillips Smith • Meghan Parker Speckman • Araya Chelsea Sykes • Garrett Evan Toth Martha Louise Upper • Christian Oliver Weaver • Abigail Leigh Webb • Haley Deyerle Webb Bradley Alan Welch • Timothy Adam Williams • Alanna Fair Wilson
Your diligence and dedication resulted in over $4,400,000 in scholarships earned!
www.caldwellacademy.org • 336.665.1161 2900 Horse Pen Creek Road • Greensboro, NC 27410
94 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Arts & Culture
C.P. LOGAN
Classes, Commissions, Party Classes online Classes
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ECONOMIC RESURGENCE MAKERS MAKING A DIFFERENCE
Sponsored by The Cemala Foundation, Greensboro Partnership & Quaintance-Weaver Hotels
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WEDNESDAY, JULY 27, 2016 | 5:30 - 7:30 PM AT GREENHILL Join us for a panel discussion moderated by Nancy Hoffmann on the role of the arts in economic resurgence and development as well as the differences, similarities and meaning of “creative economy” in Greensboro and Asheville. Asheville Panelists: Karen Cragnolin, Rob Pulleyn and Pat Whalen. Greensboro Panelists: Zack Matheny, Cecelia Thompson and Andy Zimmerman. $12 register in advance or $15 at the door. Talk will be in The Gallery at GreenHill located inside the Greensboro Cultural Center. Light appetizers and beverages included.
REGISTER ONLINE: GREENHILLNC.ORG/ECONOMIC-RESURGENCE
96 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July Arts Calendar Fridays
Dana Auditorium except for lecture on 7/29 at Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org.
EMF MASTER CLASSES. 4 p.m. See how it’s done from the pros of EMF, including violinist Nadja Salerno Sonnenberg (7/1), cellist Julian Schwarz (7/8), violist Cynthia Phelps (7/15), violinist James Ehnes (7/22) and pianist William Wolfram (7/29) — for free! Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org.
Saturdays
THE HALF OF IT. 5 p.m. Enjoy the hands-on exhibits and activities for half the cost of admission at $4 Fun Fridays. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com.
TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 7 a.m. until noon. The produce is still fresh and the cut fleurs still belles. Greensboro Farmers’ Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville Street, Greensboro. Info: gsofarmersmarket.org.
Fridays & Saturdays EMF: MUSICALLY SPEAKING. 7 p.m. Learn about the evenings’ performances and performers before you see and hear them, courtesy of a talk by UNCG prof and musicologist Gregory Carroll, and Maestro Peter Perret. Moon Room,
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.
THRICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Hear a good yarn at Children’s Storytime. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 7631919 or scuppernongbooks.com. 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) 2742699 or idiotboxers.com.
Sundays HALF FOR HALF-PINTS. 1 p.m. And grownups, too. A $4 admission, as opposed to the usual $8, will allow you entry to exhibits and more. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com. MISSING YOUR GRANDMA? 3 p.m. until it’s gone. Tuck into Chef Felicia’s skillet-fried chicken, and mop that cornbread in, your choice, giblet gravy or potlikker. Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen, 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/fried_chicken.htm. (See page 54). To add an event, email us at ohenrymagcalendar@ gmail.com by the first of the month prior to the event.
Arts & Culture Arts & Culture
Fabulous 50’s Flashback
Saturday, July 9 E 11 am to 4 pm E R F 50’s Vintage Cars • Dancing • DJ Jessica Mashburn
Porter House Burger Truck • Piedmont Swing Dancers Graveyard & Richardson Park Tours • 1950s TV Shows Free Popcorn • Storytelling & Children’s Activities
130 Summit Avenue, Greensboro • 336-373-2043 The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July 2016
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Color. Clarity. Detail.
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GibsonvilleAntiques.com • Mon-Sat 10-6 & Sun 1-5
98 O.Henry
July 2016
7630 Royster Road, Greensboro P: 336.644.1095 F: 336.644.9404 www.countrykennelboarding.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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July 2016
O.Henry 99
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online @ www.ohenrymag.com 100 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Alamance Photography Club “Cityscapes & Architecture” Competition Winners Brick by brick, stone by stone
Whether a municipal building, an Ionic column, Roman arch or soaring gothic vault of a cathedral, architecture is literally a monument to human ingenuity, enduring beyond the imaginations and hands that created it.
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1 1st Place – Sam Lynch – Graham Courthouse 2 2nd Place – Herbert House – Elon Colonnades 3 3rd Place – Jean Paul Lavoie – Boston Ghosts The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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4 Honorable Mention – Debbie Chandler – Vence, France 5 Honorable Mention – Hugh Comfort – Cologne Cathedral (Germany) 6 Honorable Mention – Hugh Comfort – Melk Abbey (Austria) July 2016
O.Henry 101
dressing childhood.
lAdIeS ClothIng, gIftS, BABy, jewelry, gIftS for the home, tABlewAre, delICIouS food
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102 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
GreenScene
Joel Sanchantz, Nancy Nunez
Notable Latinos of the Triad 2015-2016 Latino Community Coalition of Guilford Thursday, April 28, 2016 Photographs by Lynn Donovan
Bryant Staples, Kathy Hinshaw, Damian Salgado, Daniel Laszo
Angel Guerrero, Susan Sassman
Natacha Wulff, Vanina Hackett, Isabel Gil
Belkys Regalado, Abraham Feliz
Irving Zavaleta, Tanya Rivera Cori & Athan Lindsay
Karen Neill, Geissler Baker, Brigitte Blanton
Maleah Hean, Saul Rodriguez Edher, Catalina & Angie Zania Valdes
Kathy Hinshaw, Raul Pinto, Addy Jeffrey
Margarita & Fernando Nunez
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July 2016
O.Henry 103
Everything a girl could want... Clothing • JEwElry • ShoES • homE ACCESSoriES
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104 O.Henry
July 2016
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
GreenScene
Hollis Gabriel, Maria Harkins
The Art Shop
NC Gallery Grand Opening Saturday, May 7, 2016
Debbie & Keith Tate
Photographs by Lynn Donovan Christopher Taylor, April McAfee, Andy McAfee, Janelle Di Lizio
Robin Shobert, Taylor Bartz
Nadine & Richard Johnson
Jeff Shealy, Stacy & Bill Thompson
Susan Brendle, Irene McAfee Tiffany & Thomas Morgan
Betsy Winston, Marty Day
Joel, Aiden, Catie & Ava Ayers Carrie Ganim, Anne Gundlach
Mark Millard, Diana Luckhardt, Renee Philbeck, Han O
Lexi Eagles, Arlene Dolan
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July 2016
O.Henry 105
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July 2016
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
GreenScene
Nasha McCray, Wade Walcutt
Weaving Wonders with Historical Threads
Member and Guest Preview Reception Greensboro Historical Museum Thursday, May 19, 2016 Photographs by Lynn Donovan
Sherry Abernathy, Uma & Kalyani Avvat
Cheryl Stewart, Maggie Triplette Tyson Hammer-Strandberg, John Strandberg
Lea Williams, Barbara Shanks
Margaret Benjamin, Brigitte Blanton, Lisa Anderson, Stephanie Billings
Robert Harris, Carol Ghiorsi Hart, Lynn Wooten
Suresh Chandra, Cynthia Adams Julia & Mimi Strandberg, Jim Martin, Nick Parham
Gene, Joe & Sam LeBauer
Jennifer Poindexter, Chris Carlson, Brooks Copeland
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Carol & Cham Edmiston, Marilyn Cotten-McMichael, Linda Jensen
July 2016
O.Henry 107
GreenScene
Jesse Anderson
Yuna Yoshida, Daylyn Love
Tuxedo Trot Run for the Penguins Greensboro Science Center Saturday, May 21, 2016
Photographs by Lynn Donovan
Nikki, Ander & Wells Wickline
Linda Purcell, Ronda Crawford, Rachel Herman Ashley & Coltyn Jordan, Tina Williams, Lisa Proctor, Avalynn Jordan, David Williams
Erica Brown, Kelli Crawford Felicia Mills, Jennifer Everhart, Stephanie Truell
Taylor McDonald, Aoibhin & Cathal Colleran, Sarah & Jack McDonald, Eoin, Saoirse, Heather & Erin Colleran Michelle Miller, Leah Quinn
108 O.Henry
Susie Karczewski & Wayne Jones
July 2016
Nico & Kathleen Gleason Mandi Burleson, Amanda Herlacher
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Summer Days and Summer Nights Irving Park
902 Nottingham Road Charming one-of-a-kind classic home located in the heart of Old Irving Park overlooking natural park and golf course area. 4-5 Bedrooms, 4 and a half Baths. (Option of downstairs bedroom) High ceilings, custom moldings, Plantation shutters & hardwood floors throughout. Great patio and landscaped grounds, 2-car garage with finished room and bath above. Don’t miss seeing this home!
302 Wentworth Drive Location! Location! Location! Old Irving Park charming storybook Craft home within walking distance to Greensboro Country Club and parks! Open floor plan - Living Room, Dining Room, large Den overlooking wonderful patio, garden and fenced yard. 4 Bedrooms, 2.5 Baths. Covered Porch.
2 Waldron Court This classic traditional home is in the heart of New Irving Park on a corner cul-de-sac lot is ready for family living. With spacious rooms, open floor pan 5 bdrms 3.5 baths . Bonus, sunroom and office. 2 car garage and fenced back yard Come see - you won’t be disappointed!
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
July 2016
O.Henry 109
Up, Up and Away!
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110 O.Henry July 2016
Carriage House
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
The Accidental Astrologer
Tea Leaves for Two And other jujus for July
By Astrid Stellanova
Thank you, Gentle Reader, for sending
the Detox tea. I am sipping from a china cup while reading from my Red Neck dictionary and pondering the many ways we gain insights. Some of us go to our preachers, our teachers and our friends. Some of us consult the tea-leaves and the cosmic truths. Yet be forewarned, Star Children: July stirs up fireworks of all kinds. Ad Astra — Astrid
Cancer (June 21–July 22) Birthday child, you have had a long spell of feeling unsure of yourself just because of your past. Some were born to live on a house with wheels. Some were born to live high on the hog. But that has not one thing to do with our place in the greater scheme of things: You are as worthy of love and happiness as anyone. High or low born, we were all born with a quest: to learn from the past. If you do that, you will graduate from spiritual ignorance to live with freedom and enjoy all your years more blissfully. Leo (July 23–August 22) You stirred in the grits pot too long and some things look overdone and ruined. If you have the ability to smile and put the wooden spoon down, you’ll regain your lost perspective on life. This is a turnaround month. It isn’t required to stand at the stove and feel the heat; sit at the table and enjoy being a guest. Virgo (August 23–September 22) Someone is blowing sunshine up your skirt and you want to believe it. It isn’t exactly true, but it is truthy enough to turn your head. Honey, keep both feet on the floor — for more reasons than one — and remember that a flattering devil wants something from you that is worth more than they are offering in return. Libra (September 23–October 22) Sure, you’ve got a problem to solve. But in order to get to the solution you don’t have to square a hypotenuse. You know you have a tendency to overdo anything you think is worth doing. This problem is much simpler than you first thought, especially if you let a friend help. Scorpio (October 23–November 21) You’ve been acting out just like a wild child: mad, bad and howling at the moon. Meanwhile, what about that new person who grabbed your attention? Well, there’s a lot less to them than meets the eye, Sugar. Use the good senses you abandoned earlier this month. Sagittarius (November 22–December 21) The hilarious thing about that certain someone you’ve been looking up to is that they are not all that and a pack of cheese nabs. They’ve been acting like a fool raised by a pack of wild hot dogs. You might want to go it alone a while without a wingman and see if you don’t get a better reception from others.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Capricorn (December 22–January 19) The stars have sure been kind to you, Baby. The corn is high and your ship came in. So how come you have been acting like the elastic in your underwear is melting? Get up on the right side of the bed and give your pals a break. Also, notice the number three and how it figures into something of importance. Aquarius (January 20–February 18) If you like your current situation, Honey, it’s like being a prisoner but thinking you are the warden. Some people don’t deserve the multiple chances you have given them. You are not a prisoner of your fate; open the cell door and walk out, Sugar Foot. Pisces (February 19–March 20) You were the last person to arrive at the meeting and the first to leave. Is it any wonder some question your commitment? If you want what you tell yourself you want, then step it up. If you really don’t, step down and walk. Either way you go is more honest than pretense and is going to make for a better journey. Aries (March 21–April 19) Sure, their handshake felt like you were handling a dead snake. Sure thing, they weren’t exactly dynamic. But you are not yet in charge of the Universe, so you can afford to let it pass without throwing them in the dungeon. MYOB and pour that fierce energy into creative projects you have ignored. Taurus (April 20–May 20) Earnest persistence is not a virtue if you find yourself secretly wanting to chew your own arm off just to get out of a trap you laid. Unclench your teeth and fist. Let it go, Baby Cakes. In very short time you will have two offers to choose from, and the hardest thing is this: Both of them would be good choices. Gemini (May 21–June 20) Somewhere, someone is desperately trying to reach out to you. Try taking the aluminum foil off the windows and catch their signal. They come in peace, Honey, and from Deep Time. It might even be an Avatar. Or, it might be you need to move the TV antenna. 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 2016
O.Henry 111
O.Henry Ending
Rockets Red Glare
By Nancy Oakley
“Slow down, Jamie,” I com-
mand my parents’ stocky terrier-mix who, nose to ground, is straining at his end of the leash as we approach a gravel path littered with pine needles. He’s eager to bound through a nearby field that stretches to Green Valley Road, one of the last vestiges of the former Green Valley Golf Course abutting my parents’ neighborhood. In the winters of my childhood, its elevated greens doubled as sledding runs, but on this early spring morning, my thoughts turn to summer, when the greens were neatly clipped, providing a thick cool carpet for my bare feet stained from the grass. In an instant I’m transported to the languid mugginess of a summer night, recalling my sisters, other neighborhood kids and I sitting cross-legged on one of those greens, absently swatting at no-seeums as we tilted our faces skyward.
“That was a good one.” “I like chrysanthemums best.” “I like Roman Candles.” “When’s the Grand Finale?” “After the groundworks.” “Groundworks are boring!” “Not if you saw ’em up close.” An exchange of horror stories followed — how the groundworks took off a guy’s finger, or exploded in the faces of everyone sitting on the front row of bleachers at the Grimsley High School stadium, where every Fourth of July a concert ended, quite literally, with the bang of fireworks. Who needed the stadium? The deserted course was our private, outdoor theater as the first whistle and shower of sparks skittered across the sky, our very own fireworks show, because after all, this was our neighborhood. At dusk it had echoed with the ratta-tat-tat of the odd bottle rocket, sending the dog we had at the time, another fatter terrier mix, toward the dark safety of the space beneath my parents’ bed. Firecrackers were rare in those days, because you’d have to cross the South Carolina state line to buy them. One year, the next-
112 O.Henry July 2016
door neighbors had come back from Myrtle Beach with a box of sparklers and distributed them to all the neighborhood kids. It was exhilarating, seeing sparks sputtering in all directions just inches from my fingertips, and a little nerve-racking, after years of hearing my parents’ warnings about what happened to little girls who played with matches. “Move it around in circles, like this,” said a skinny frecklefaced girl, “Or write your name with it, like this,” And she began drawing fiery loops and squiggles in the air, and waving her spindly arms up and down, as if she were performing a ritual dance. Recalling a recent trip to Birmingham, Alabama, and the 50-foot-tall statue in its city center, I raised my flaming hand over my head, proclaiming, “I am Vulcan, god of fire!” “Vulcan? You can’t be a Vulcan, only Dr. Spock is a Vulcan.” “And besides, you’re a girl.” “And you’re too little.” “And if you’re not careful you’ll set your hair on fire.” So much for divinity. But the letdown would pass, for along with the others, I would soon be running toward Green Valley as fast my miry clay feet (darkened with grass stains) would carry me. After we settled on one of the greens, the wait for fireworks seemed endless. A group of little boys would roll down the gentle hill, making themselves dizzy. Someone would inevitably start singing “Fire and Rain.” Then, silence, as the first Roman Candle streaked across the velvety blackness overhead. But it wasn’t black for long. A series of chrysanthemums — small ones, large ones, some accompanied by thunderous cracks, others by whistles or sputters before the Grand Finale of red, white, and blue — and green and gold — turned night into day. In subsequent years, after we’d grown up and left home, our Fourth-of-July tradition faded, just like those colorful cinders of a chrysanthemum’s spikes in the nighttime sky. I once brought my niece, Liz, when she was 5, to the gravel path on the ridge overlooking the golf course, except by then there was no course left, just an office park. We set up a folding chair under the row of pine trees on them — wedged among a crowd of unfamiliar faces, folks clearly not from the neighborhood who’d driven over to see the fireworks — and she squirmed in my lap, excited at the fireballs, hurled out of nowhere as if by some invisible deity, and a little fearful that they would rain down on top of our heads. To our right, in the overgrown field, a few frantic dogs pawed the ground, tangling their leashes. Jamie’s leash slackens. He is still, his stubby white paws planted on that same gravel path under the pines, his ear cocked at the rumble of a bulldozer. A Day-Glo-orange construction fence stands between us and the field whose undulating stretch of high grass and clover has been flattened into a stark plateau of red clay. OH Nancy Oakley is the senior editor of O.Henry. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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