November O.Henry 2022

802 & 800 Sunset Drive

The Essence of Old Irving Park! 1920’s Tudor Revival with arched, recessed entry & distinctive steeply pitched front gable welcomes all to fall in love with this classic home. Primary bedroom on both levels, main or upper, formal living & dining rooms, library, family room & large kitchen area with bayed breakfast room. Featuring generous bedrooms and baths, original architectural detailing, hardwood floors & Zenke designed rooms. Additional parcel of land conveys with house.

Enhance. Envision. Enlighten.

A NEW CHAPTER IS BEGINNING AT FRIENDS HOMES – with spacious new homes and more opportunities to maintain and enhance your body, mind and spirit.

As part of our exciting expansion, we’ve completely reimagined our wellness program by opening a 32,800-square-foot, state-of-the-art wellness center. The center features an indoor sports court, fitness center, indoor pool, integrative health clinic, salon, art and crafts rooms, a multi-purpose room for lifelong learning and much more. Plus, we’ve updated and added new dining venues to enhance the culinary experience, o ering fresh, local specialties, refreshing favorites and inspiring new flavors.

It’s all about giving you a greater variety of engaging activities for your physical, intellectual and spiritual wellbeing.

Join us for an upcoming event, and experience today’s Friends Homes firsthand. Call or visit us online to sign up for one of our special on-campus events today.

Life Plan Community

The

Van

Gail

815

Gail

Billy Ingram

Colonel Charles A. Jones,

Jenkins

Life

Jim Dodson

Sazerac

Tea Leaf Astrologer

Zora Stellanova

Life’s

Maria Johnson

Omnivorous Reader

Stephen E. Smith

Creators of N.C.

Wiley Cash

Pleasures of

Lynne Brandon

Home Grown

Cynthia Adams

Birdwatch

Susan Campbell

Billy Ingram

Billy

Events Calendar

GreenScene

O.Henry Ending

Cynthia Adams

MAGAZINE

volume 12, No. 11

“I have a fancy that every city has a voice.” 336.617.0090

111 Bain Street, Suite 334, Greensboro, NC 27406 www.ohenrymag.com

PUBLISHER

David Woronoff david@thepilot.com

Andie Rose, Creative Director andiesouthernpines@gmail.com

Jim Dodson, Editor jwdauthor@gmail.com

Cassie Bustamante, Managing Editor cassie@ohenrymag.com

Miranda Glyder, Graphic Designer

CONTRIBUTING EDITORS

Cynthia Adams, David Claude Bailey, Maria Johnson

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Mallory Cash, Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, CC Kallam, Bert VanderVeen, Mark Wagoner

CONTRIBUTORS

Harry Blair, Lynne Brandon, Susan Campbell, Wiley Cash, Elizabeth Chiseri-Strater, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Jim Jenkins, Col. Charles A. Jones, Gerry O’Neill, Stephen E. Smith, Zora Stellanova, Ashley Walshe, Amberly Glitz Weber

ADVERTISING SALES

Marty Hefner, Advertising Manager Lisa Allen

lisa@ohenrymag.com

Grove

amy@ohenrymag.com

White

larice@ohenrymag.com

Brad Beard, Graphic Designer

Coordinator

The Art

THIS YEAR, STIR UP SOME NEW HOLIDAY MEMORIES.

All throughout November and December, you’ll find holiday cheer in great abundance everywhere you turn in Alamance County. Picture postcard sights, sounds and celebrations immerse you in a magical backdrop that transports you to another place and time. Take in holiday concerts and an old-fashioned Victorian Christmas filled with entertainment, holiday treats, and traditions. Discover that perfect gift, bauble or decoration. And see the enchantment unfold before your eyes.

Burlington Christmas Parade: 11/19 Hometown Holiday Celebrations: 11/19 Christmas at Alamance Arts: 11/19-12/24

Mebane Christmas Parade: 12/2

You’ll find small surprises lead to big memories in Alamance County.

Filament Coffee

Tyler Redhead & McAlister and Leonard Ryden Burr want to welcome our newest owner, Tyler Wilhoit. Tyler brought his experienced Asheboro real estate group into the TR&M family in September 2020 and joined the ownership team in March of 2022. While TR&M and LRB operate as separate brands, we are one company serving the Triad with 134 dedicated real estate agents. In 2021, our agents were responsible for over $613 million in sales, making us the largest locally owned firm in the Triad. When you choose to work with us, your investment stays local – strengthening the businesses, schools, attractions and infrastructure in our community. Keep your most important investment local and reach out to Tyler Redhead & McAlister or Leonard Ryden Burr when you are ready to buy or sell a home.

My November Song

A prayer of gratitude for the lives that touch us and those that await beyond

BY GERRY O'NEILL

By Jim DoDsoN

On one of the last warm mornings of summer, I was watering shrubs when I heard a heavy thump behind me in the garden. Turning around, I saw only half a dozen birds feeding at the three feeders that hang from our aged maple’s outstretched limbs. I walked over to investigate.

I found a large squirrel crawling desperately on the ground toward one of the young azaleas planted back in the spring. The critter had evidently fallen from one of the high branches and was either dazed or severely injured. As I approached, the big squirrel curled up at the base of the plant and burrowed its nose under the shrub’s branches.

My first impulse was to fetch a garden tool and end the poor animal’s suffering. But long ago I made a pact with the universe to cause as little harm as possible to creatures large and small, probably the result of reading too many transcendental poets and Eastern sages early in life, and covering a great deal of murder and social mayhem during the first decade of my journalism career.

To my wife’s amusement (and sometimes horror), I’ve been known to gently escort spiders and captured houseflies to the door, return snakes to the wild and even grant the odd mosquito a reprieve to live and bother someone else another day.

Not counting the untold number of innocent garden plants I’ve inadvertently offed due to general ignorance or untimely negligence, I’ve generally abided by the naturalist maxim that it’s best to let nature take care of her own. So for this reason I went back to watering the shrubs for a spell, hoping the big fallen fellow was merely stunned.

Our little patch of paradise is a remarkably peaceful kingdom. Dozens of birds feed daily from three large feeders that hang from the old maple’s mighty limbs — a perpetual challenge to the squirrels that inhabit the forest of trees around us.

Over the years, they’ve displayed impressive acrobatic skills and inventive ways to get at those feeders, prompting me to constantly come up with strategies to thwart their efforts. It’s kind of a fun game we play. Fortunately for them, the birds are absurdly sloppy eaters, accounting for considerable spillage on the ground that keeps both squirrels and young rabbits rather well fed. That’s the silent bargain we make to keep our little kingdom in natural balance.

The Art of Living

INTRODUCING ALDERSGATE SQUARE

Building on our history of beauty and imagination, Arbor Acres is excited to announce Aldersgate Square, our newest residence rising from the center of this invigorating community.

Around here, how we evolve our environment is how we renew the vitality of our mission, which means that a splendid home of comfort, convenience, and thoughtful amenities—with lovely views and spacious rooms—is just the start

Because living well is one thing, but living with purpose and passion, among friends in a rare and picturesque setting—this is life in all its shining brilliance. Arbor Acres is forever in a state of becoming—a place where creativity shines, where generosity thrives, where the art of living blooms.

For more information on Aldersgate Square and other independent living options, please call (336) 724-7921.

Simple Life

When I walked back to check on the fallen squirrel, however, he was lying right where I left him, perfectly still. He was dead.

I picked him up to look him over. He was an older fella bearing scars, nicked-up by life. Perhaps he’d simply lost his grip or just let go. It was impossible to know. In any case, it seemed only fitting to bury him on the spot where he lived out his final moments on this Earth — underneath the young azalea.

It was my second death of the week.

Two days before, on a beautiful morn ing when the rains I’d been waiting and praying for all summer finally arrived, we decided to put my beloved dog, Mulligan, to sleep.

Mully, as I call her, found me 17 years ago, a wild black pup running free just above the South Carolina state line, literally jumping into my arms as if she’d been waiting for me to come along. She was my faithful traveling companion for almost two decades, even journeying along most of the Great Wagon Road for my latest book project.

Three days before we lost her, Mully made the daily mile-long early morning walk we’ve strolled together for over a decade. Never sick a day in her life, it was the rear legs of this gentle, soulful, browneyed border collie I called my “God Dog” that finally gave out. She hobbled painfully on three legs around the Asian garden she watched me complete this summer, and settled at my feet where we sat together on a bench most evenings just watching the world. Her upward gaze told me it was time for her to go.

It was the hardest — but right — thing to do.

The idea of the afterlife for all God’s creatures — especially dogs — has fascinated me since I was a little kid. One of my first memories of life comes from a late autumn evening in 1958 when my mother and I were walking the empty beach at low tide near our cottage in Gulfport, Mississippi, looking for interesting seashells washed up from the Gulf of Mexico. November storms famously coughed up a bounty of unusual shells

Simple Life

along the shore. It was my first lesson in immortality.

Our dog, Amber, had just died of old age. I was sad to think I would never see her again, and wondered what happens when dogs and people died.

My mom picked up a perfect scalloped shell, pure alabaster white, and handed it to me.

“Tell me what you see in that shell,” she said.

“Nothing. It’s empty.”

She explained it had once been the beautiful home of a living creature that no longer needed it, leaving its protective shell behind for us to find.

“Where did it go?” I demanded.

“Wherever sea creatures go after this life.”

“Do you mean heaven?”

She nodded and smiled. I’ve never forgotten her words.

“That’s where your dreams come true, buddy.”

“Same with Amber?”

“Same with Amber.”

A few years later, a marvelous Black woman named Miss Jesse came to help heal my mom after a terrible late-term miscarriage that nearly killed her. I often pestered Miss Jesse in the kitchen or when she took me along to the Piggly Wiggly. One evening I asked her why all living things had to die. She was rolling out dough and making biscuits at the time.

Her rolling pin kept working. “Let me ask you something, child,” she said matter-of-factly. “Do you remember a time when you weren’t alive?”

I could not.

“That’s because you ain’t never not been alive, baby. Nothin’ you love dies. It just passes on to a new life — just like the trees in spring.”

Half a century later, I heard the voices of both my mother and Miss Jesse in a powerful song called “Take it With Me” by Bluesman extraordinaire Tom Waits.

I played it the day Mully left me. I’ll play it again when I spread her ashes in the garden she helped me create.

I play it, in fact, every year when the leaves begin to fall. It’s my November song.

The children are playing at the end of the day Strangers are singing on our lawn

There’s got to be more than flesh and bone All that you've loved is all you own… Ain’t no good thing ever dies I’m gonna take it with me when I go

Due to summer’s extremely dry conditions in our small corner of paradise, the leaves fell early this year.

By the time we give thanks for this year’s tender mercies, missing friends, beloved traveling companions and even fallen squirrels that have graced our lives with their presence, they may all be safely gathered up to wait for us. OH

Somewhere where dreams come true.

Jim Dodson is the founding editor of O.Henry

SAZERAC

Sage gardener: Well-rooted advice

For gardeners, pumpkins are a lot like zucchini — you inevitably have so many the neighbors close the blinds and hide when they see you coming. Pumpkins are so easy to grow that they come up on their own if you planted them the year before. And it’s so rewarding to see them getting bigger and bigger and bigger. For non-gardeners, their charm falls off precipitously after Halloween. And why not, after we’ve all been assailed for months with pumpkin spice in everything from Twinkies to beer, from dog shampoo to spam? Let’s face it, by November most of us are ready to let pumpkins rot, leaving that sad hulk of yellow pulp and seeds behind.

But I’m here to defend the humble pumpkin (hold the spice) and I cite the French as my ally. In her Paris Cookbook, European restaurant critic Patricia Wells recounts how in recent years the French have gone bonkers over pumpkins, though the gourd times have been rolling in France for centuries with traditional dishes aplenty: soaked in milk and deep-fat fried, pumpkin au gratin, of course, and, my favorite, French pumpkin soup. Wells recommends the simplest preparation, cooked in chicken stock, with a little sugar, cream and white pepper, avec naturellement, dollops of cheese added at the table (Can you say triple crème brie and maybe a little truffle oil?) I don’t recommend using your tired and scorched jack-o’-lantern for cooking, though it’s still technically edible once you scrape out the candle wax. Get yourself to the farmers market and look for a “green” pumpkin, basically a cultivar of the Curcubita winter squash — fresher and tastier. What to do with your jack-o’-lantern? From roasting the seeds into a savory snack to using the shells as planters, the internet will doubtless have more ideas than you have time for. But at least they’ll have you looking forward to doing it all over again next year. — David Bailey

Unsolicited Advice

’Tis the season to be thank ful. And everyone knows how much pressure there is to say just the right thing sitting with the fam ’round a turkey you’re praying you didn’t overcook. (On the plus side, the wishbone will be dry and ready to snap, just like you.)

We’ve got ya covered with some suggestions to show off your attitude of gratitude Repeat after us: I am grateful for . . .

The fact that Cavalier King Charles Spaniels can trot around like true royalty now.

Coffee. Oh, and also iced coffee.

Keeping those carpenter jeans from high school.

TikTok, for introducing us to cloud bread — cotton can dy’s much older brother who can no longer handle gluten.

Taylor Swift, for dropping Midnights upon us from the heavens.

Any food that comes on a stick.

Cancelling plans. Like the one you had to host Thanksgiving dinner.

"A spirited forum of Gate City, food, drink, history, art, events, rumors and eccentrics worthy of our famous namesake"

Pop Quiz

In 2018, I paid my respects to the former Miss Anne’s Tic Toc Lounge in Macon, Georgia. It was here, in his birthplace, where Richard Wayne Penniman, singular sensation and “Architect of Rock,” won the talent contest that rocketed him to fame.

As Little Richard, he embraced the color purple — before it was a book title or belonged to Prince, as he proudly once told interviewer Joan Rivers in 1986.

Merging rock with Bible Belt gospel lent his electrifying stage presence a certain thing. Initially, he admitted, “I didn’t know what to do with the thing I had.”

Soon enough, Little Richard figured it out, becoming a performer whose “pounding” of the ivories inspired Elton John, the Beatles, the Stones and David Bowie.

In 2001, the Little Richard Band had a gig at Greensboro’s Carolina Theatre, appearing before a sellout audience. Then 68, Little Richard had slowed a tad, and needed a little help with his physical theatrics, before he rocked the house.

He also proselytized, giving away autographed pics and Bibles afterward.

Little Richard died May 9, 2020, his death eclipsed by an avalanche of pandemic losses.

But Good Golly, Miss Molly! Imagine the raucous ruckus as he strutted through the Pearly Gates. — Cynthia Adams

Bob’s Closet

“Right now, we especially need winter coats,” says Ashley West, supervisor of Bob’s Closet , a nonprofit organized by Replacements, Ltd., chairman and CEO Bob Page back in 2016.

The concept is simple. Replacements pro vides space in its warehouse where “guests” can shop for clothing free of charge. Items are provided by individuals and companies working through a network of some 30 area nonprofit groups.

Sometimes guests are families who are war refugee families. Sometimes they’re individu als who just need a little help.

Whatever their situation, they shop for about two hours, looking for items that suit their personal style, trying garments on for fit and leaving with five work or casual outfits, plus underclothing, socks and outerwear — enough to dress them for a week.

“In some instances, it’s a one-time thing,” Ashley says. “But some people may need to come four times a year. And they’re always welcome.”

While manufacturers provide many gar ments, most of the clothing comes from indi viduals. To donate new or gently used items or to have a question answered, call Ashley at 336-697-3000, ext. 2497, or email ashley. west@replacements.com. — Ross Howell

The Black Belt Soap Company

Growing into

As you enter The Black Belt Soap Company at 416 East Market Street, you may be greeted by one of the two owners – Temeka Carter and Jeff Petrishen. Your gaze may go upward toward the two chandeliers that signal the formality of the shop. Jeff will tell you that they ordered the chandeliers from Amazon and then spent hours putting all the glass pieces together. Or you may find yourself looking at the orderly shelves displaying soaps, body oils, scrubs and skin-care products, handmade with herbs such as mint or rosemary, or vegetables such as sweet potatoes or okra.

The store’s name is derived from the area of Alabama that Carter called home as a child. This strip of rich black topsoil across the center of the state called The Black Belt originally grew cotton –the logo of the shop bearing the region’s name.

Carter originally sold her soaps online (www. BlackBeltSoapCo. com), at craft fairs and at specialty shops in Greensboro. But as the business grew, and Carter’s and Petrishen’s house overflowed with boxes upon boxes of soaps and the ingredients for making them, they decided it was time for an actual brick-and-mortar. “We were grateful for the business growth, but initially did not want to manage a physical store,” says Carter. “We either needed to purchase a larger home or get a store, as the business was starting to take over the house. Local customers wanted to stop by and pick up orders or arrange a meet up. Scheduling became another job!” Overall, they are pleased with their decision, as their house is now a home again and customers can visit the store to shop at their leisure.

Diving into the creative endeavor of soap-making was part of Carter’s grieving process over the loss of her only child, Chloe, who passed in 2014 just before her seventh birthday from an

undetectable blood clot that caused an embolic stroke. Working with her hands helped her process her feelings and put her energy into something that helps others. Each year Temeka celebrates Chloe’s birthday and has a license plate that bears her name. She freely talks about her, saying “Chloe is very much part of my life.”

Carter and Petrishen have been married for three years after a long-distance courtship between Greensboro and Boston. Petrishen has a background as an entrepreneur in the arts as both a painter and photographer, and is responsible for the business’s branding, such as product label design. For Petrishen, the transition from living and working in New York City and Boston has required some adjustment. “The pace is certainly different,” he says, “but I’ve met some really nice people since being here.”

In addition to running The Black Belt Soap Company with Petrishen, Carter is as multifaceted as the crystals that hang from the shop’s chandeliers. She holds a doctorate in rhetoric and com position from UNCG and teaches courses in African American studies, women’s studies and holistic wellness at N.C. A&T. She recently returned to veganism and is currently studying to be come an integrative health coach. Should you think Carter and Petrishen are a couple of workaholics, they know what travel and pleasure are all about. Each year they close the store for a winter break between Christmas and February 1st to enjoy a vacation. This year they are headed back to Bali for the second time, seeking product inspiration while indulging in an entire month of happiness for themselves.

Elizabeth Chiseri-Strater is an Professor Emeritus of English at UNCG. Her specialties include rhetoric and composition as well as literacy and ethnography. Temeka Carter is one of her former students.

Calling All O.Henry Essayists

Several years ago, we introduced a personal essay contest that was a big hit with readers and creative writers of the Triad. It was called “My Life in a Thousand Words.”

The theme of this year’s “My Life in a Thousand Words” contest is The Year That Changed Everything.

Was it the unforgettable year you got married (or divorced), went to college (or dropped out), saw the light, kissed the blarney stone, joined the army, ran for president, met Mick Jagger, had a baby, ran away with the circus, spiritually awakened — or, like many of us, just survived?

Only you can tell the story.

Same modest guidelines apply: Deadline is December 24, 2022. Submit no more than 1,000 words in conventional printed form. Shameless bribes and free (expensive) gifts welcome. Flattery also works.

Send to: cassie@ohenrymag.com

While vintage fashions were popular at the height of their own times, just like Britney, they love being the star of a good comeback. If you dig the garments of yore and want to give them a second chance at life, these Greensboro establishments might have just what you need to take your wardrobe from drab to vintage fab.

Vintage 2 Vogue: This downtown boutique offers an array of styles, from as early as the 1920s to the groovy designs of the 1970s and later. And even if you’re not a bride-to-be, check out the dizzying wedding-dress selection. Just because the dress has been loved-and-left doesn’t mean you will be. The thought of wearing someone else’s clothes leaves ya feeling itchy? Check out the collection of vintage-inspired looks. Info: vintagetovogue.net.

Design Archives: Located on South Elm Street, this veteran emporium outfits your body — and your home — with relics of the past. Find everything from baubles to bangles, from blazers to big and comfy hoodies that look like your Uncle John’s and

remind you of his backyard barbecues. Nothing like wrapping yourself in nostalgia. Info: shopdesignarchives.com.

Standout

Vintage: No one needs to know that your mom didn’t actually let you go to the 1990 Nirvana concert at The Millstone in Charlotte. Proudly sport the shirt you would have scored — and other vintage con cert, sports and pop-culture tees — at this South Elm Street shop and pretend you were there. Pairs well with flannel and ripped jeans. Info: standoutvintage.com.

Revision Vintage: Whether you’re having visions of frolicking in a golden field in a vintage cottagecore frock or wheeling around Skateland USA in prime OG roller derby wear, this East Market Street shop has you covered, head to feet. Shop in-person

or via Instagram for the grandest of grandmillennial fashions and decor. Info: instagram.com/revisionvtg.

Bargain Box: One of our O.Henr y associates, who always looks snazzy and coordinated, claims this Junior League shop as her go-to “for classic, high-quality, designer suits and dresses that look brand new!” Value added if your grandma wore them to her own Junior League meetings in 1965. Info: juniorleagueofgreensboro.org/bargain-box.

Boxwood Antiques: Find 300 square feet dedicated to vintage, recycled and even new fashions at Eleanor Gray, situated inside this ginormous antique emporium in High Point. Winter is coming — prepare by donning a vintage fur to keep you warmer than a belly full of Mom’s pecan pie. And don’t forget to add some flair, aka vintage brooches. Maybe 37 or so. Info: facebook. com/boxwoodantiquemarket/.

Our Village Goods: This social media shop, owned by Lora Leininger, lists vintage clothing on its Instagram page. Browse sweaters, blouses and dresses with pants and skirts sprinkled in. Schedule a try-on sesh in her guest cottage and sit down to a cuppa tea and quiet. It’s like a lovely staycation, but with rad togs. Info: instagram.com/ourvillagegoods

Thrift Shops: There’s a reason an entire Macklemore & Ryan Lewis song is dedicated to the glory of thrift shops. While you may have to dig a little to weed out the vintage gems, with a little patience and persistence, you’ll be poppin’ tags. Hit up Triad Goodwill, Salvation Army and Hannah’s Bridge.

Estate and Garage Sales: Scope out those Saturday roadside signs because estate and yard sales alike are often stuffed with bargain vintage clothing. You know what they say. One man’s trash is another man’s treasured trappings. — Cassie Bustamante

tea leaf astrologer

Scorpio

(October 23 November 21)

They say one rotten apple spoils the barrel. Let’s put it this way: Your thoughts are the apples. While you aren’t prone to having more wormy ones, per se, you’re certainly more inclined to hold onto them. Grudges, in particular. Those closest to you can sense when you’re stewing, but no one knows how dismal it can feel to be dancing to the same noxious tune ad nauseum. Remember that you’re the DJ. Forgiveness is a gift to yourself.

Tea leaf “fortunes” for the rest of you:

Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21) Best not to think twice.

Capricorn (December 22 – January 19) Let them talk. You know the truth.

Aquarius (January 20 – February 18) Set an extra plate at the table.

Pisces (February 19 – March 20) Chew before you swallow.

Aries (March 21 – April 19) Bring a poncho.

Taurus (April 20 – May 20)

This might sting: There’s nothing between the lines.

Gemini (May 21 – June 20) Try rotating your mattress.

Cancer (June 21 – July 22) Wear the dang sweater.

Leo (July 23 – August 22) You’re asking the wrong question.

Virgo (August 23 – September 22) Go for the store-bought.

Libra (September 23 – October 22) Something’s overheating. (Hint: It’s not dinner.) OH

Zora Stellanova has been divining with tea leaves since Game of Thrones’ Starbucks cup mishap of 2019. While she’s not exactly a medium, she’s far from average. She lives in the N.C. foothills with her Sphynx cat, Lyla.

WENDOVER AVE, GREENSBORO

Stranger Things

Samaritans on the way to Summerfield

By m aria JohNsoN

It sounds weird to say, but I honestly don’t know how the accident happened.

I remember rolling down the Atlantic & Yadkin Greenway on my mountain bike that Friday afternoon a few months ago.

I remember coming up on the tunnel under U.S. 220, near Summerfield, and noticing that the inside walls had been painted with a bright mural. It looked like something kids had done. Was it flowers in a field?

I remember thinking it was going to be cool to pedal through the artwork and get a closer look.

But I didn’t get that far.

The next thing I knew, I was losing control of the bike and veering off the path.

Had I hit a patch of gravel where the surface changed?

Had my chain slipped?

I have no idea.

I can still feel the sickening realization that I was going down; then the shock of impact followed by a burst of pain in my shoulder; and the instant knowledge that something was broken — but not my head, thanks to my helmet.

My next memory is of three people moving toward me: a young man and woman, and, behind them, an older man with a big black-and-white dog.

The young man helped me up and allowed me to lean on him, which was a good thing because my legs were shaking. I could not have stood on my own.

He walked me over to the tunnel and suggested that I sit with my back against the wall. He asked several questions, which, even through my daze, I could tell were designed to assess my mental and physical state.

“Are you a medical person?” I asked. “Because you talk like it.”

He smiled and said no. But he’d been a lifeguard at YMCA camps and knew a lot about first aid.

The young woman pointed out the bloody scrapes on my right leg and arm.

“It’s her shoulder that I’m worried about,” he said, staring at my right collarbone.

I tried to glance down. I couldn’t see much. I didn’t really want to.

He asked if there was someone he could call.

“My husband, Jeff.”

“Do you know his number?”

“Yeah, I know his number.”

Looking back, I think it’s a small miracle that the young man — whose name I later learned was Jacob — did not call my husband and say, “Your banged-up, coherent, smart-ass wife just wrecked her bike on the greenway. Please come get her.”

Instead, Jacob told Jeff where to park and went off to meet him.

Meanwhile the young woman, Joan, and the older man, Robert — along with his dog, Pepper — stayed with me and chatted. It was amazingly amiable, considering the circumstances.

I turned to Joan: “Are you connected to the Y, too?”

No, she said. She had finished her master’s degree in counseling at UNCG and was getting ready to start a new job with a family-focused practice inside a couple of old homes on Spring Street in Greensboro.

“That’s funny,” I said, explaining that this magazine’s first office was in one of those homes.

In that moment, I could see the front room where our young editor hung her dream catcher, the wonky, windowless room that connected the front room to the kitchen. I could see the staircase, the landing, the upstairs room where our crew draped ourselves over armchairs and a futon to laugh and curse and argue and conjure a never-ending stream of story ideas.

Soon, Joan would come to know the same spaces through her

work with young children.

A feeling hit me. It was more woo-woo than woozy.

I turned to Robert.

“What about you? Are you retired — to be walking your dog in the middle of the day?” I asked him.

Yes, he said, from the old post office on Banking Street.

Again, the small-world feeling washed over me.

I told him that O.Henry’s second office was in the Dutch-barnshaped building next door. I used to mention the old post office as a landmark when giving people directions because everyone seemed to know where it was.

“That was a great post office,” I said sincerely.

Robert nodded.

It occurred to me that there must have been times when we were working within Bluetooth range of each other.

So far, only a few yards and years had separated me, Robert and Joan. And now, here we were, the three of us, hanging out under a highway on a Friday afternoon.

It was as if time and space had folded so that we finally met face-to-face just when I needed them most.

“Well,” I said to my tunnel peeps, “I hope no one else shows up because I’m running out of former workplaces to have in common.”

They stayed with me until Jacob returned with Jeff, who

whisked me to an emergency room.

Joan and Jacob took my bike — they had a rack on their car — and dropped it off at our house.

Five hours later, an emergency room doctor confirmed that my collarbone was broken in a couple of places

A few days after that, an orthopedist assured me the bones would knit without surgery if I kept my right side quiet for eight weeks.

That was 12 weeks ago.

The road rash scabs have been replaced by shiny, pink skin.

My sling is folded up in a closet.

I’m doing physical therapy to regain strength.

The bone-deep ache is fading.

What persists, though, is the memory of three strangers who ran to my aid. They knew nothing about me — where I lived, how I voted, what I believed, whom I loved.

None of that mattered. They saw I was hurting and — maybe because my need was so obvious — they responded with care.

Once they came closer, we found we had things in common.

It sounds weird to say, but that gave me hope — in the midst of pain.

And for that, I am thankful. OH

Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry. Contact her at ohenrymaria@gmail.com.

Greensboro

Watergate Revisited

By Stephen e. Smith

If you don’t believe history can turn on insignificant details, consider this: The political firestorm known as Watergate was precipitated by a piece of cheap tape. In his Watergate: A New History, Garrett M. Graff, a former editor of Politico Magazine, has gathered the particulars of America’s most infamous political scandal into an 800-page history that thoroughly examines the minutiae that brought down the 37th president.

If you’re among the millions of Americans born after the Watergate scandal, here’s what you need to know. In the early hours of Saturday, June 17, 1972, a security guard at the Watergate Complex in Washington, D.C., discovered that duct tape had been used to ensure that a couple of doors remained unlocked. The guard called the cops, and five officers disguised as hippies apprehended five men in suits and charged them with attempted burglary. It was the beginning of the end of Richard Nixon’s presidency and America’s political naivete.

If you suffered through those troubled times — June 1972 to August 1974 — you’re probably wondering if another Watergate history is necessary. Given the number of books, articles, documentaries and movies that have investigated every possible facet of the Watergate debacle, it’s difficult to imagine the need for a retelling, but once you’ve begun your retrospective journey in Graff’s “new” history, there’s no turning back. You may think you know all there is to know about Watergate but you don’t.

Graff is a proficient storyteller and an able prose stylist, and he excels at breathing new life into characters who have dimmed with time — E. Howard Hunt, G. Gordon Liddy, Chuck Colson, Donald Segretti, John Ehrlichman, H.R. Haldeman, John Mitchell, John Dean, Jeb Magruder, et al. — and the journalists, senators, congressmen, wives and government employees whose lives were altered by the scandal that sent 25 of Nixon’s cronies to prison. To do this, Graff plowed through the published accounts, oral histories, the Oval Office tape transcripts, as well as FBI, court and congressional records. His objective was to “re-investigate.”

“I believed from the start,” he writes, “that the full story of this scandal didn’t lie in the umpteenth interview, fifty years after the fact, with a key player who had already spent decades telling, refining, and positioning his story.”

Graff is particularly adept at reintroducing readers to lesser-known Watergaters. L. Patrick Gray, acting director of the FBI from May 3, 1972 to April 27, 1973, is a case in point. For most Americans, he remains an insignificant figure in the scandal, but Graff fully explores Gray’s character — especially his overriding desire to become director of the FBI — and his failings, including his admission that he’d destroyed documents taken from Hunt’s safe. “Under

A thorough look at the end of our political innocence

omnivorous reader

questioning, Gray admitted he had regularly sent investigative reports to the White House via Dean,” Graff writes, “allowing the president’s staff access to files that (J. Edgar) Hoover had previously guarded.”

Likewise, Margaret Mitchell, the brash, outspoken, way-too-Southern wife of Attorney General John Mitchell, provided comic relief during the scandal, but Graff details her political insights and how she was ruthlessly attacked by members of the administration and her former husband. He recasts her as a perceptive and outspoken critic who was harassed and demeaned by Nixon’s henchmen.

Al Haig, famous for having blurted “I’m in control here” after the attempted assassination of President Ronald Reagan, became Nixon’s chief of staff when Haldeman was fired. He had, in fact, taken control of the White House prior to the attempt on Reagan’s life: “. . . as Nixon retreated deeper mentally and physically while Watergate consumed his presidency, some would joke that Haig became the nation’s ‘37 1/2th’ president.”

Another minor player was Alexander Butterfield, the soft-spoken former Navy pilot who was the House committee’s first witness in its impeachment hearings. He testified for 10 hours, revealing the secret Oval Office taping system and reinforcing the notion that Nixon was too much of a control freak not to have known what was going on with his subordinates. Even Nixon’s secretary Rose Mary Woods (remember the “the Rose Mary stretch”?) doesn’t escape scrutiny. She was certainly a player in the coverup, and there was speculation that she was a CIA informant.

Mark Felt, the FBI’s No. 2 official at the beginning of the scandal, is the frequent subject of Graff’s reporting. When writing their investigative stories in the Washington Post, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein identified their primary source as “Deep

Throat,” but Felt wasn’t publicly outed until 2005, at age 91, when he revealed to Vanity Fair that he was Woodward and Bernstein’s informant. Ironically, Felt’s identity as an FBI mole was known to the Nixon administration as soon as Woodward and Bernstein began to write about the white-collar criminals who facilitated Nixon’s cover-up operation.

The questions that don’t get answered are the most obvious: Why did a serving president who was a shoo-in for a second term employ widespread illegality to secure an election he was certain to win? Did the Democrats have dirt on Nixon? Was any advantage to be gained by eavesdropping on Democratic headquarters? Were the Watergate burglars — “the Plumbers,” as they were known in the administration — set up for failure? Since the break-in at Daniel Ellsberg’s psychiatrist’s office yielded no useful information and the confusing circumstances of the ITT merger certainly went unnoticed by the electorate, why had Nixon and his minions continued their illegal activity? And there remains this overriding question: Why had Nixon insisted on recording Oval Office conversations when he knew he was speaking words that would eventually incriminate him?

Richard Nixon remains a shadowy figure in American history, and “gate” has become a convenient suffix for other scandals — most of them overblown or imaginary — but there’s no denying that Nixon’s political shenanigans changed us forever. Unfortunately, the lesson to be drawn from Watergate continues to elude most politicians. Any neighborhood gossip could tell them that in political life there are no secrets, finally or ever. OH

Stephen E. Smith is a retired professor and the author of seven books of poetry and prose. He’s the recipient of the Poetry Northwest Young Poet’s Prize, the Zoe Kincaid Brock man Prize for poetry and four North Caro lina Press Awards.

Weymouth Wonderland Holiday Festival Dec 2 - 4

Three Days of Something Wonderful for Everyone!

Candlelight, Carols & Cocktails is for Grown Ups: Light up the season with a casual and comfortable evening gettogether. Friday, Dec. 2, 5 pm. $50 Members • $60 Non-Members

Outdoor Wonderfest & Market is for the Whole Family to go Walkin’ in a Weymouth Wonderland. Our grounds will be a holiday family funderland featuring: local vendors and artisans; Weymouth’s own Holiday Shoppe; food from some of our area’s popular food trucks; wandering minstrels and choristers; Santa and Mrs. Claus in their magical toy shop. And more!

Saturday, Dec 3, 10-4 pm. Entry fee of any $ donation

Teddy Bear Tea is For Kids ages 3-10, to enjoy an activitypacked event, with an adult by their side. All are welcome to bring their favorite teddy bear for an afternoon filled with fun!

Sunday, Dec. 4, two seatings 1 or 3:30 pm. $25 per child, $30 per adult

For tickets visit: weymouthcenter.org

To receive 5% off, use promo code: DTOH

Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities

555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines, NC

A 501(c)(3) organization

n.c.

Renaissance Bartender

Joel Finsel mixes books and bourbon

By Wiley CaSh photographS By m allory CaSh

When you sidle up to the bar before ordering a beer or cocktail, you probably don’t expect your bartender to have authored two books and numerous articles, have a graduate degree in liberal studies, or to be a leading advocate in the movement for historical justice. But if you know Joel Finsel and he is the one behind the bar, then that’s exactly what you would expect. You would also expect a very, very good drink.

One crisp day in early fall I spent an hour or so with Joel in downtown Wilmington at the Brooklyn Arts Center, a gor geous, deconsecrated church that was built in 1888 and passed through the hands of numerous congregations before falling into disrepair and being saved by a public and private partnership in the late 1990s. Over the past decade, the Brooklyn Arts Center has hosted countless weddings, community events and concerts by musicians like Art Garfunkel, Brandi Carlile and Old Crow Medicine Show. The sprawling complex, which features the event space, a bridal suite, an annex that once served as an old schoolhouse, a courtyard and the Bell Tower Tasting Room, is now a busy hub of art, culture and celebration. It was in the Bell Tower Tasting Room where I found Joel, ready and waiting to mix up a few cocktails that are perfect for the upcoming holiday season.

As Joel mixes our first cocktail — a mulled apple cider — I ask him how he’s been able to build a career as a bartender with one foot in the literary world, another in modern art and another (apparently Joel has three feet) in bartending. He smiles. “I think I’ve always been attracted to chaos,” he says, which surprises me. Joel is one of the most measured people I’ve ever met, and to watch him work behind the bar is to witness a seemingly effortless precision.

The steaming hot apple cider is poured with bourbon and

garnished with star anise, lemon and a cinnamon stick stirrer. It tastes like a winter evening, presents wrapped under the tree and the kids blessedly asleep before the chaos of Christmas morning.

I ask Joel about his childhood growing up in Lehighton, Pennsylvania, a small blue collar town on the banks of the Lehigh River about an hour and a half northwest of Philadelphia.

“Until I was 5, my family lived in a trailer on a dirt road, 2 miles up along the side of a mountain. It was awesome because there were bears and deer, and you could just pick up rocks and there were orange salamanders everywhere,” he says. “And then my great-grandmother passed away and we moved into her house in town, which changed everything for me. I was suddenly in the middle of a small town and I could walk to high school and there were girls there. And there was a basketball court nearby, which I pretty much lived at.”

The abstract expressionist painter Franz Kline also moved to Lehighton in his youth in the second decade of the 20th century. Joel’s mother had grown up in the area hearing stories about

Kline and his work, and her interest led her to become one of the country’s pre-eminent specialists on everything from Kline’s paintings to his career and biography. When Joel was young, his mother began working on a biography of Kline, but it wasn’t until Joel graduated from college and was teaching school in Philadelphia that he asked for a look at the manuscript.

“I was home for Christmas, and I said, ‘Mom, what’s up with that book?’ I asked her if I could take a look at it. And then I re alized what she had was a huge document of notes, but no struc ture.” Mother and son began working on the project together, and they would do so for over 20 years before Franz Kline in Coal Country was published in 2019, the first biography to examine this major American artist’s formative years in Pennsylvania, Boston and London before he became one of the founding members of the New York School.

The next cocktail Joel prepares is called the Cat’s Whiskers, a tipple of rye whiskey, honey syrup, fresh lemon juice and Angostura bitters that tastes like a party thrown by Jay Gatsby. If I were to turn and look over the balcony here at the Brooklyn Arts Center, I would almost expect to see a jazz band taking the stage, the audience filled with men in smart suits and women in flapper dresses, snow pounding against the stained glass windows as the hour tips past midnight.

The book on Kline was not the first Joel had published. During a long career as a bartender — one that began in college and would lead to reviews and spots in publications like Bartender Magazine, Cosmopolitan and a profile in Playboy as one of the country’s Top 10 Mixologists — Joel had accumulated countless stories from

co-workers and patrons, many of which he recounted in his 2009 book Cocktails & Conversations, which expertly mixes barroom lore with the histories of mixology and cocktail recipes.

One bar customer who had an enormous influence on Joel’s life was the abstract expressionist Edward Meneeley, a contemporary and friend of artists like Willem de Kooning and Andy Warhol. Joel and Meneeley met while Joel was in college at Kutztown University and working at a bar across the street from

the creators of n.c. Meneeley’s art studio.

“Ed introduced me to mixing things like Campari and soda back in the day when everyone drank Captain and Coke, circa 1998,” Joel says. “Ed would come into the bar and throw his old copies of The New Yorker at me and tell me I needed to educate myself out of this town, so I got to know the work of the maga zine’s art critic Peter Schjeldahl pretty well. I wasn’t even 21 yet. I started tending bar at 18, which was legal.”

The next cocktail Joel makes is called Lavender 75, and while it doesn’t include Campari, the West Indian orange bitters combine with gin, fresh lemon, lavender syrup and a splash of dry Champagne to give the drink an incredibly complex and layered taste, both dry and deeply flavorful.

When Joel and his wife, Jess James (who owns a vintage clothing boutique in Wilmington that is a habitual stop for Hollywood actors when they’re in town filming movies), moved to town in 2005, Joel brought his two main interests south with him: mixology and contemporary art. He took a job as the bartender of Café Phoenix in downtown Wilmington and designed one of the first craft cocktail menus in the city. He also curated the art on the restaurant’s walls, hosting artists like his friend Meneeley and Leon Schenker. Suddenly work by internationally known artists valued at tens of thousands of dollars was hanging where local art had once dominated the walls.

It was after a few years in Wilmington, where he eventually earned an MA in liberal studies from UNC Wilmington, that Joel first learned about the 1898 race massacre, the only success ful coup in American history that saw white supremacists murder untold numbers of Black citizens while overthrowing the duly elected local government. He was shocked to learn that something so horrible had happened in a city he had quickly grown to love.

After researching the events surrounding 1898, Joel cofounded the nonprofit Third Person Project, which is dedicated to uncovering and preserving history. One of the group’s first projects was gathering and digitizing copies of The Daily Record, which was the only daily Black newspaper in North Carolina before it was destroyed by a mob during the events of 1898. Since then, the organization has gone on to host musicians like Rhiannon Giddens, who came to Wilmington to perform the “Songs of 1898” at a 2018 event with Joel’s Third Person cofounder, writer John Jeremiah Sullivan. Third Person has gone on to lead Wilmington in efforts to save historic buildings, mark burial places, and uncover lost histories, often by partnering with local institutions like UNC Wilmington’s Equity Institute.

On a smaller scale, Joel is also contributing to local history with the impact he’s had on its cocktail scene. The final drink he mixes — the True Blue — is a good example. He created it years ago when he designed the cocktail menu for the Wilmington restau-

Richard J. Taavon, MD,

Kelly A. Fogleman, MD,

Vaishali R. Mody, MD,

Susan Almquist, MD, FACOG

Law, D.O.

Daniela Paul, MSN, CNM

Meredith Sigmon,

Jones,

C. Lane, WHNP-BC

the creators of n.c.

rant True Blue Butcher and Table. The cocktail remains a fixture and, with its mix of pear-infused vodka, elderflower liqueur, lemon and a splash of dry Champagne, I understand why.

Our interview is over and, as Joel cleans up behind the bar, he tells me he plans to spend the rest of the afternoon working on an essay about 1898. Cocktails, conversa tion, curating art, correcting history. It’s all in a day’s work.

True Blue

Fresh, clean, bright. Designed after research into ancient Greek formulas for the “nectar of the gods.”

1 ounce Grey Goose La Poire vodka

1 ounce St. Elder elderflower liqueur

1/2 ounce fresh lemon (or about half a lemon)

Splash dry Champagne

Splash sparkling mineral water

Pre-chill cocktail coupe and set aside. Mix vodka, elderflower liqueur and fresh lemon over ice in a mixing glass. Shake hard for at least 12 seconds. Discard ice from pre-chilled coupe back into ice bin. Strain mixture into coupe. Float Champagne and soda. Garnish by dropping in 3 blueberries or thin slice of pear.

The Cat’s Whiskers

Substitute gin and it becomes The Bees Knees. Both are Roaring ’20s slang for the height of excellence.

1 3/4 ounces favorite bourbon or rye whisky

1 ounce honey syrup (1:1 ratio of hot water to honey)

3-4 fresh mint leaves

1/2 ounce fresh lemon

2 dashes Angostura bitters (optional)

Splash sparkling water

Pre-chill cocktail coupe and set aside. Combine all of the ingredients over ice and shake for 12 seconds. Discard ice from pre-chilled coupe back into ice bin. Double strain into coupe (make sure no green flecks of mint end up in anyone’s teeth). Garnish with fresh mint top.

the creators of n.c.

Lavender

The classic French 75 cocktail was named after a cannon. This places a flower in the barrel.

1 1/2 ounces Botany Gin

1/2 ounce fresh lemon

1 ounce lavender syrup (steep dried lavender flowers like a tea in hot water, then add sugar, 1:1 ratio)

3 dashes West Indies Orange Bitters Splash dry Champagne Splash sparkling mineral water

Pre-chill a cocktail coupe and set aside. Combine all of the ingredients over ice and shake for at least 12 seconds. Discard ice from pre-chilled coupe back into ice bin. Strain the chilled mixture into the coupe. Garnish with 3-4 dried lavender buds. OH

Wiley Cash is the Alumni Author-in-Resi dence at the University of North Carolina at Asheville. His new novel, When Ghosts Come Home, is available wherever books are sold.

Turtleneck Kind of Gal

Sticking my neck out in praise of a fashion staple

By lynne Brandon

Harry: I have just one question: What’s with all the turtlenecks? I mean it’s the middle of summer.

Erica: Well, I guess I’m just a turtleneck kind of gal.

Harry: You never get hot?

Erica: No.

Harry: Never?

Erica: Not lately.

This bit of thinly veiled flirty banter is from one of my favorite movies of all time — Something’s Gotta Give. The scene stealing dialogue is a game of mental ping-pong between playboy en trepreneur, Harry Sanborn (Jack Nicholson), and Erica Barry (Diane Keaton), famous and uptight playwright.

The conversation strikes a nerve and begs the question: Why do some women like wearing turtlenecks? Does it mean the wearer is uptight and neurotic? Is the look one of modesty or subtle sexiness?

And, really, why does anyone care? There seems to be no middle ground — people seem to love or hate turtlenecks.

Turtlenecks look good on almost every woman (especially those with long necks), and the garment looks equally dashing on men. The reasons for loving turtlenecks are as basic as the piece itself. It is both practical and fashionable: The neck-hugging sweater has been a classic style since entering the fashion scene in the 19th century.

To break down its merits further is easy. The staple item is a study of contrasts. Here is a garment that is simple yet alluring in an under-the-radar kind of way. It is a symbol of strength and

style and, for some, rebellion.

One of the few reasons I can tolerate winter is because I get to wear my favorite black cashmere turtleneck. In the coolest months, I think there is no item that is more essential in anyone’s wardrobe, other than a coat.

Fashion history tells us that the origins of the turtleneck arose among the working class, who valued it for warmth and protection. Over time, they became a favorite with the Hollywood set. The turtleneck gradually became viewed as almost iconic for beautiful, active and independent women. Feminists — and even those who aspired to a hippie-boho lifestyle — got on board. Truly, the sweater makes a statement that is undeniable: The wearer has something to say to the world.

While many don the turtleneck, no one wears it better than the famously independent Diane Keaton, who gave it a starring role in Something’s Gotta Give. I met the trailblazing actress in 2019, and, true to form, Keaton had on her trademark black turtleneck. I also wore black for a dash of solidarity. She is as nice as she seems on the big screen, but I did not have the nerve to ask her the burning question on many fans’ minds: Why do you love turtlenecks?

But, if a turtleneck is good enough for the woman known for walking her own path, it is good enough for me. While I will not credit a piece of clothing with super powers, I definitely feel more confident and ready to face the day the moment my head pokes through a turtleneck.

And, as Keaton said, “I guess I’m just a turtleneck kind of gal.” OH

Lynne Brandon is a Greensboro-based journalist who hopes to inspire others with stories about interesting people, places and things.

Chalk and Cheese

A tale of Dutch — and Southern — hospitality

By Cynthia a damS

There I was, in the Netherlands, shivering in the attic room that a university contact (who called it an “apartment”) had found for me. Hardly an apartment, its highlights were a sink and a tiny window. And it was winter . . . so cold I looked up the meaning of chilblains.

My refuge from the cold room was either the university or the living room, which was also the refuge of my landlady, a blue-eyed, blonde-haired, cat-loving chain smoker who was rather thick in the middle, and favored sensible low heels and navy skirts. I’ll call her Anke. The uniform was a throwback to Anke’s KLM air hostess days, which were the highlight of her life. Laid off long ago, most of Anke’s forays were daily shopping for cig gies, cat food, wine and cheese.

As time wore on, we began to forge a tenuous relationship. She had resisted at first, given I was, in Anke’s words, “a stupid tourist” renting an overpriced, unheated attic. I needed proxim ity to Leiden and she needed cash. Yet the very idea of my presence galled her.

The Dutch are blunt.

She was astonished I had been hired to teach writing at a local university. How could I possibly take a job away from a good Dutch instructor, she wondered aloud?

Then there were the strict household rules: when to use the kitchen and fridge; when to bathe, and in which bathroom; daily airing of the duvet because a detested prior tenant had “sweat feets.” No matter how cold, the garret window was to be left opened in daytime. Ditto for the bathroom window.

As winter progressed, I shivered in bed with a couple of hot water bottles and the duvet tucked under me. It was impossible to get warm. She alone controlled the thermostat.

Yet I learned that Anke loved and knew good wines. Eventually, she agreed to join me for a nightcap of delicious wine after work. Slowly, we came to a rapport — of necessity. Briefly warm, I pretended I didn’t mind endless episodes of Neighbors,

the Australian sitcom, or the wreaths of smoke encircling her cropped hair.

“Chalk and Cheese,” she called us, as in the Dutch expression “as different as chalk and cheese.” I presumed I was the chalk . . . and she was her favorite, Gouda.

Ultimately, Anke would invite me to share dinners. I learned to bring good chocolates, flowers, or wine home.

Anke thawed, and introduced me to her Jewish family. Few males had survived the Holocaust.

This explained the ubiquitous picture windows, pointedly left uncovered after years in hiding. And the ever-present bicycles, which the Nazis had confiscated.

She took me on shopping forays for “more premium” toilet paper in Belgium. I went with Anke to source white asparagus, pannekoek — a pancake smothered in thick syrup — and mussels.

When my semester ended, we parted as friends, although inscrutable to one another.

Months later, Anke called to say she was coming to the states. On arrival, she wanted use of my car. This wasn’t possible, I explained. Upset, she settled on my driving her wherever asked. I took her to IHOP for pancakes, which she bluntly and loudly declared “shit!” Our many churches troubled her. “There’s one on every corner!”

Anke hated every meal and found Greensboro was a total washout until I took her to a big box store.

Delighted, Anke found a staggering bag of cheese puffs — at least 2 feet high — to lug home. She visited McDonald’s and adored the Big Mac.

Anke, seafood and wine connoisseur, approved of American fast food and snacks.

This time when we parted, she hinted at a future visit. I smiled, unnerved, yet confident I could find enough snacks and bad food to please her. Certain that America would deliver, I gave “Cheese” a thumbs up as she ambled down the concourse in her squatty heels.

Still baffled yet grinning, “Chalk and Cheese” had reached an international accord. OH

Cynthia Adams is a contributing editor to O.Henry.

Early Signs of Winter

By SuSan CampBell

Here in the central part of North Carolina, the winged harbinger of winter is the whitethroated sparrow. Summering in the forests of the far North, this bold little bird breeds across Canada and at elevation in northern New England. A medium-sized sparrow, it is brown above and white below with bold markings on the head. Pale stripes on the crown and a white throat patch are set off by gray feathers on the face. Whitethroateds also sport a yellow spot at the base of their stout bill.

Interestingly, there are two color forms of this species: those with heads that are white-striped as well as those that are tanstriped. Both forms persist because, as much as white-striped individuals are more aggressive during the breeding season, each almost always pair with the other type. Nests are made by the female in a depression on the ground under a low-growing tree or shrub. However, should it be depredated, the second nest may be placed on low branches.

If you have not spotted one of these birds, you almost certainly have heard their distinctive loud “seet” call emanating from thick vegetation. Their song, which can be heard even during cold

weather, is a recognizable, liquid “oh sweet Canada” or to some, more of an “old Sam Peabody.” Since they tend to flock together, you are likely to encounter small groups along forest edges, farm fields, parks and suburban areas that have thick shrubbery.

White-throateds are commonly found at feeding stations, often in association with dark-eyed juncos, another bird of high country. These squatty sparrows actually have a broad diet. Although they primarily feed on a range of seeds during the winter months, their preference shifts during the year. In spring, they are more likely to seek out buds and flowers of fresh vegetation.

White-throated sparrows do not walk or run but hop when on the ground. As they forage, they will forcefully scratch backward in leaf litter using both feet and pouncing on food items that they uncover. These birds will also flick aside dead leaves using their bills. In the winter months, pecking orders form within flocks with the more aggressive males dominating.

If you want to attract white-throated sparrows this winter, it is easy and inexpensive. Since they tend to stay low, scattering a seed mix in a cleared spot near shrubs or other thick vegetation is all it may take. White-throateds will hop up onto a stump or low platform feeder as well. Easier yet, simply leave a portion of your yard unmown until spring, and these predictable visitors may well turn up to take advantage of the resulting seeds that remain as the growing season winds down. OH

Susan Campbell would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photographs at susan@ncaves.com.

Mike Davis

Katie Mateer

Adams

BY JOEY RUDZINSKI

Saved by the Belles

By Billy [eye] ingram

“Home wasn’t built in a day.”

— Jane Sherwood Ace

On a morning in 1966, bulldozers were poised to raze a bloated antediluvian structure on a prime block of downtown Greensboro real estate. The building, leaking and collapsing, sat perched on a hill in one of the last residential neighborhoods in the shadow of the Jefferson Standard Life Insurance Building. For almost 70 years, this compound served as a lonely outpost for the Keeley Institute, a live-in rehabilitation center where drunks and drug addicts were promised “That New Freedom” after weeks of fourtimes-daily injections of bichloride of gold, laced with alcohol, strychnine, apomorphine and willow bark.

With downtown bursting at the seams, an expansion of businesses to the west was only natural. Kroger had its eye on the lot under the Keeley Institute, so a crew was dispatched to clear the land. And they would have, had socialites Anita Schenck and her mother, Mary Lyon Leak Caine, not stood between the heavy machinery and that sacred place steeped in ceremony, where the Civil War came to an end in North Carolina, a once stately manor they knew as Blandwood.

Fellow Garden Club member Virginia Zenke, who with her husband, Henry, was inducted into the International Interior Design Association’s Hall of Fame in 2002, had a nagging suspi cion Blandwood Mansion’s architect had to have been someone of prominence. As a trend-setting decorator of the ’60s, she had an acute eye for style. Perhaps if a pedigree could be proven, there might be more of an interest in saving the estate. Peering from black-framed round glasses, pencil protruding from her thick dark hair, she pored through books and reference materials attempting to solve the mystery of who designed Blandwood.

That moment of Zen(ke) came in 1966, when Virginia discovered the architect was none other than Alexander Jackson Davis, America’s leading designer of country houses, known locally for our gentrified State Capitol. He also left his mark on UNC Chapel Hill, where the playfully austere facades of Old

The women who saved Blandwood from becoming history

wandering billy

East and Old West dormitories and the four-columned roman splendor of the Playmakers Theatre are nothing less than iconic. All of his creations were lavished in the Italianate and Greek Revival genres he was famous for. His designs for Blandwood are preserved in no less than the Metropolitan Museum of Art. his was a home like no other in America. Reminiscent of a Tuscan villa, it featured two large parlors with gardenview bay windows on either side of an imposing three-story tower made inviting by three enormous archways that circumambulate the front porch. Completed in 1846, it’s the oldest building on an original foundation in the city, one of the first towered Italianate villas in the nation and the earliest surviving example.

With Blandwood’s important historical lineage confirmed, the ladies who lunched became the ladies who launched. Bulldozer stoppin’ grandma Mary Lyon Leak Caine called to order the first meeting of the Greensboro Preservation Society on October 31, 1966, to foster, “a respect and reverence for the past by preserving landmarks in Greensboro including streets, public buildings, churches, houses, parks, trees or any existing examples of culturally, historical and architectural value to the city, state and nation.” No budget, only a zeal to identify cultural touchstones that needed safeguarding, they quickly came to the realization, however, that if Blandwood was to be saved, they’d have to do it themselves.

First efforts were strictly DIY. Green Thumb Garden Club members came wielding pruning shears. Along with Greensboro Jaycees and Thomas Tree Service, they tidied up the one block area, unearthing varieties of gingko, Japanese lacquer, linden, box elder, white pines, oak, maple and mulberry trees.

On March 13, 1967, the state’s First Lady, Mrs. Dan K. Moore, was given a tour of the dilapidated Blandwood before heading to a luncheon a block away at the home of Otto Zenke, who partnered with his brother Henry to found an interior-decorating firm that gained

billy

an international reputation.

Modern architect Edward Lowenstein, known for the Greensboro Public Library (1964) and YMCA (1971) buildings as well as homes in Irving Park and Starmount, was enlisted to oversee one of the first modern-age adapted reuses of an American historic property.

Seemingly forgotten on the part of the public was any knowledge of the historical significance attached to this former residence of Governor John Motley Morehead. The only governor of the state to hail from Greensboro proper, Morehead was an early champion of the railroad at a crucial time in its development. He also championed a public education system that included the disabled, women and slaves, a con cept many considered heretical.

“The Father of Modern North Carolina” had one eye focused firmly on the future. In 1854, as first president of the North Carolina Railroad, he undertook an aggressive expansion of what he called

“the tree of life,” connecting every corner of the state to the wider world. As a result, a delicate “City of Flowers” morphed into the “Gate City,” defined by a robust rail system that, not coinciden-

Greensboro

billy

tally, utilized Greensboro as its hub.

As talk of secession grew louder in 1861, Morehead was a Peace Convention delegate, hoping to avoid war with the north. After hostilities broke out, though, he did serve in the Confederate Congress and entertained officers as they marched headstrong to Richmond, then again when they returned in retreat. At war’s end, Greensboro served as a decommissioning depot with Union officials occupying all of the nicest homes. Morehead’s daughter, Letitia Morehead Walker, referred to Blandwood’s 1865 houseguest, Major General Jacob Dolson Cox, as, “a most courteous and elegant man” who, nonetheless, forced her to witness what for her was a macabre sight, a triumphant parade of occupying forces.

After John Motley Morehead passed away in 1866, his daughter, Emma Victoria, and her husband, General Julius A. Gray, became lord and lady of the manor. He had been the commander-in-chief of North Carolina’s repelling forces during the War of 1812. When the British invaders heard his regiment was in their path, they decided to come to terms rather than face this fearsome foe. Gray initiated the successful effort to preserve the site of the Battle of Guilford Courthouse, saved Greensboro College and founded the Greater Greensboro Chamber of Commerce. Gray died in 1891, his service held at West Market Methodist Church. Five years later Blandwood was deeded to the Keeley Institute.

Guilford College bought the property in 1965 along with Arnold Schiffman, who took over Schiffman’s Jewelers from his father, Simon. They put forth a proposal to save the estate. Former mayor Robert Frazier had appealed to legislators for years, but this shady lady was not an obvious candidate for a long term relationship, her very uniqueness a turn-off. No white col umn décolletage or proper Southern brickwork? Besides, wasn’t that the joint shooting up addicts with weird serums?

On April 17, 1968, HUD allocated over $100,000 to put the ladies in white gloves and pearls within sight of their financial goal, and the rest followed quickly. A week later, after Boy Scouts cleaned and pruned the grounds, the Greensboro Woman’s Club hosted a public open house at Blandwood.

Joyous sounds of celebration have been ringing from the south lawn since 1970, when Blandwood Carriage House became a location of distinction for weddings and receptions, a state-of-theart facility that has as its backdrop an ancient beauty where past and present coexist harmoniously. Live music, dancing, children’s laughter, business leaders congregating, a bride and groom’s exhilarating first hours as a married couple? They are all a living testament to those preservation pioneers who drew a line in the sands of time, to battles won against prevailing winds on a field of devastating losses. OH

An excerpt from a story in his first book of (mostly) Greensboro history, Hamburger², Billy Ingram’s new book about the Gate City is entitled EYE on GSO available where books are sold or burned.

On Disappearing

Yesterday, I found an empty turtle shell

On a leaf-littered trail by the ancient river. Light flooded the inside Like a tunnel through a yellow-painted mountain. My eyes said, “No one is home”

And yet, a part of me was unconvinced. Holding my breath, I bent down to pick it up Hand and body ready to retract.

How often do I live this way — Frightened to see what’s really here? Scared to reach toward what I do not know? Eager to hide from the truth?

Smooth and heavy in my cupped hand

Today, the shell sits on my bookshelf

And I shiver each time I walk by Half-wondering when invisible legs will carry it along.

This subtle haunting will continue for weeks Until, one day, the song becomes clear: Death is not real. We’re all just learning how To lay down our armor Embody the current Disappear into the light.

— Ashley Walshe

Fashion-ating

Rhythm style, past is prologue

By Billy ingram

In 2009, I opened the newspaper to see an enormous color photo taken on State Street of my mother, Frances Ingram, doing what she loved most: shopping. How apropos, I thought. Mom made the rounds to her favorite shops, an ever dwindling number as she grew older, every single day.

As a youngster in the early-1960s, one of my earliest memories was Mother getting all dolled up to cruise the downtown department stores for clothes to wear the next time she went out shopping. A holiday highlight was a trip to Ellis Stone to meet Santa, who handed out wrapped gifts from under a fireplace made from shoeboxes and wrapping paper. Department store windows at Belk, Meyer’s, Montaldo’s and Ellis Stone were glittering, snowy greeting cards come to life.

Julian Wright, one of the brave souls who stormed the beaches of Normandy, found his post-war calling staging those lavish, dioramic window displays for Ellis Stone in the 1950s throughout the ’60s and, then, after the store was rebranded as Thalhimers. Wright’s idealized snapshots of American life, defined and enhanced by the products being peddled, became genuine tourist attractions with adults and children alike nose-to-glass, eyes awash in every vivid detail.

Little did little-me know I was witnessing the beginning of the end of shopping as a spectator sport.

By the early 1900s, men could buy off the rack, but there was no such thing as ready-towear women’s clothing when Vanstory and Belk opened their small, downtown Greensboro dry

PHOTOGRAPH © CAROL W. MARTIN/GREENSBORO HISTORY MUSEUM COLLECTION

goods stores alongside a newly brick-and-block paved street called Elm. Both carried everything a woman required — silk, cotton, wool, buttons, laces and lacings — to construct her own frocks and even undergarments.

For society doyennes, the fashion of the day was pleated, flared skirts down to the floor with tight-waisted bodices and Leg o’mutton sleeves. That level of intricacy required the services of Mrs. T. W. Hancock, a renowned dressmaker on West Fourth Street in Winston-Salem. “Miss Molly” purchased fabrics and finery on her frequent forays into New York City, paying a handsome price for the latest Parisian haute couture patterns. She employed a retinue of seamstresses and cutters to fabricate exquisite wardrobe pieces for everyone who was anyone in the region.

Ellis Stone was well-established in Durham before launching a Greensboro location in 1902. Today the name is enshrined above the entrance at 226 South Elm. Foreshadowing the dawn of the full-service department store, Ellis Stone began taking ladies’ measurements, then dispatching them to New York for tailormade suits and dresses. As it gained a reputation for being the epitome of taste and style, Ellis Stone made its home across the street (most recently Elm Street Center) in a $1.5 million, starkly modern 78,000-square-foot shopping mecca with a spectacular winding marble staircase, 20-foot tall mirrors and richly appointed sales floors.

Just down the street, in 1924, the city’s first enclosed shop ping mall opened on the ground floor of the Jefferson Standard Building in 1924 with a barber, dentist and clothiers including Vanstory Clothing Co., founded across the street around the turn of the century. Vanstory catered to the city’s elite, offering Botany 500 suits and Don Roper ties. Flanking Vanstory’s entrance were some positively surrealist window displays, overly-starched shirt sleeves folded meticulously into tightly wrapped geometric puzzles, everything in frame cocooned in a warmly lit, thickly lacquered wooden cavern. Very European.

Vanstory rented out a portion of its storefront in 1933 to Montaldo’s, a small chain specializing in high end, ready-to-wear dresses run by two sisters out of Kansas. “When Montaldo’s came to Greensboro, that kind of upped the game,” fashion maven and owner of Design Archives Kit Rodenbough says. “Before that everybody had custom dress makers. Montaldo’s would have an outfit from a designer modeled in the store and women would order it in a custom fit.” Montaldo’s became a beacon of elegance on the corner of Elm and Friendly in 1942 when it moved into its curvaceous, two-story white-brick building. The front door looked more like a modern home than a commercial enterprise. And its wide windows displayed a dazzling array of wedding gowns, lingerie, millinery and cosmetics.

Meyer’s Department Store got underway around 1910, but it

© CAROL W.

Brownhill

wasn’t until 1924 that it welcomed customers for the first time into a magnificent five-story showplace on the corner of Elm and Sycamore (now February One Place). Most striking to modern eyes would be the spacious aisles, neat glass and wooden cases, and finely dressed men and women standing at the ready to offer assistance. Sweaters and slacks in various colors and sizes lay neatly on tabletops with wardrobe essentials like dress shirts, gloves and undergarments displayed inside transparent enclosures. There was very little you couldn’t find at Meyer’s with its story after story sales floors staffed by over 500 employees. The operation eventually took up an entire city block, comprising a veritable shopping mall before such a thing existed, with 700 brand names under one roof, everything from “bobby pins to refrigerators.”

Best of all, department stores had their own credit system. Customers need only scribble their names on the bill of sale and be on their way, merchandise in hand. Itemized bills arrived in the mail at the end of each month and were generally paid by mail.

In 1925, decorated in canary-colored walls and upholstery, primary-colored plaid curtains adorning floor-to-ceiling windows lining the Sycamore Street side, Meyer’s Tea Room opened on the second floor for afternoon light lunch. For the 53 years of its existence, the decor changed, but the menu not so much — every thing prepared fresh, never canned. “My mother was a hairdresser so she always had Mondays off,” Charlie Hensley recalls of his

childhood, circa 1960. “Often we would have lunch with my grandmother at Meyer’s Tea Room. The shopping experience was a lot more civilized back then, especially with the Tea Room, like an immersive experience. My mother was still wearing hat and gloves to go shopping then.”

The Belk brothers of Charlotte christened their first store in Monroe in 1888. A decade later, they opened a Greensboro branch. In 1939, they cut the ribbon on a Charles C. Hartmanndesigned palace at Elm and Market. An exterior of glass and stone on the street level, glass brick detailing on the second and third floors, it took three boxcars worth of walnut to construct the hundreds of display cases, accented with birds-eye maple and primavera. Besides clothing, Belk offered a full-service beauty salon, candy counter, and cosmetics department.

Hensley’s first job as a teenager was as a sales associate at Belk downtown in the late-1960s. “It was the first time that I realized if you worked retail that you got a discount,” he told me. “The guy who ran the store was Mr. D.O. Tice, who looked a little like J. Edgar Hoover. I always thought he was a bit of a bulldog. When he would come through, the crowd would part. I don't remember him being unpleasant ever, just formidable.” Hensley’s clients were very well-dressed matrons. “Part of what they expected from me as a 14- or 15-year-old was to be the expert advising them about what their husbands would like or what their sons might want.”

PHOTOGRAPHS © CAROL W. MARTIN/GREENSBORO HISTORY MUSEUM COLLECTION

Meyer’ s Meyer’s

PHOTOGRAPH © CAROL W. MARTIN/GREENSBORO HISTORY MUSEUM COLLECTION

Brownhill

of Greensboro

PHOTOGRAPHS © CAROL W. MARTIN/GREENSBORO HISTORY MUSEUM COLLECTION

Montaldo’s

Montaldo’s

Brownhill

Two clothiers, Sam Prago and Adolph Guyes, joined forces in 1940 to create what would become an empire with four Greensboro locations and multiple stores scattered across the state by the 1970s. Down the block from Belk at the Dixie Building, across from Woolworth’s, Prago-Guyes’ lit-from-behind, emblematic logo glowed atop an entranceway bathed in color and light. Surrounding customers as they arrived were wraparound windows adorned with the latest ensembles. Another glass casement stood in the center of this impressive frontage. Their vast shoe department tickled the air with the scent of leather and vinyl. If you wanted to be hip to the latest gear, Prago-Guyes bragged, “We’re In Touch.”

Laurie’s Sportswear, popular with the Jet Set since opening on Elm in 1951, became the first major downtown retailer to close up shop and head for the sub urbs when Laurie Queen and her three brothers signed on as an original tenant of Friendly Shopping Center in 1957. “I just thought it was beautiful,” Carolyn Andrews-Allred says of the spacious showroom, since repurposed for Harper’s restaurant. “I started working for Laurie’s my last year at Grimsley in the spring of 1972. It was the only place I wanted to work.” Harland Pell was its window designer, “I learned how to ‘fly the merchandise.’ That's what they call it, to make garments hang in the air kind of magically with fishing wire.” Managers and brothers Edward and Marshall Simon had taken over operations by then. “Very strict business people,” Andrews-Allred says. “If somebody came in two minutes late, they were fired immediately.”

Salespersons were instructed in an almost mathematical method for moving merchandise. “We used it to sell not just one item, not just a dress or a blouse,” Andrews-Allred notes, “but you could figure out how to sell an entire set of clothing.” Very effective, at least in one sense. “I was thinking, ‘Wow, these people are

Montaldo

World War II brought shortages of everything from denim to nylon, essential goods diverted to shore up our troops.

At war’s end, when word got around that the first shipment of nylon stockings in four years would be available at Meyer’s on a morning in 1946, a line of nattily attired ladies began forming as the sun rose. It would, over the next few hours, stretch around the corner and down the block.

PHOTOGRAPHS © CAROL W. MARTIN/GREENSBORO HISTORY MUSEUM COLLECTION

Montaldo’ s

Montaldo’ s

buying so much — this is great,’” only to discover customers returning a large percentage of their purchases. “That's just the way the fashion business was. You bought a lot and returned a lot.”

After leaving Laurie’s, Andrews-Allred took a sales position at Brownhill’s downtown in the mid-1970s. “It was much tinier, very much upscale,” she recalls. “Much more formal, like Montaldo’s.” Brownhill’s was established in 1927 when Elmer Brownhill ar rived from England to open “a shop for stylish gentlewomen.”

Before long the image of the “Brownhill’s lady” became iconic. Lewis and Adele Rosenberg bought the store in 1945, instituting Breakfast at Brownhill’s, a catered Saturday affair with mod els in the latest outfits strolling the aisles. Longtime employee Jack McGinn took ownership in 1963, his refined taste further cementing Brownhill’s impeccable reputation. Plushly carpeted throughout, there was a posh mezzanine level shoe emporium that the well-heeled accessed via a curved stairway.

While Brownhill’s added a charming storefront at Friendly, they remained downtown until 1987, long after every other uppercruster had fled the scene. Over the years it gained the reputation as the primary go-to spots for prom dresses and debutante gowns. “They made sure if they did sell a gown to somebody that they weren't attending the same gala as someone else who bought the same dress,” Andrews-Allred says.

For decades, consistency and uncompromising quality were the hallmarks of Younts-DeBoe located across from the Jefferson

building since 1929. As a pre-teen, I can recall tagging along with dear old Dad once a year to be fitted for a new spring sport coat. With ladies’ tailored clothing at ground level and men’s and boys’ on the second floor, what is most memorable to me was the elevator operated by a gentleman who greeted us with a wide grin, “Good morning Mr. Ingram, watch your step.” An anachronism by 1970, long after others automated their lifts, Younts-DeBoe steadfastly refused to break with tradition.

Younts-DeBoe was home of the Greensboro Nettleton, a prestigious soft leather loafer that will set you back about $600 today. “The shoe originated out of New York,” says long-time fashion consultant Dan Dellinger, who bought his first pair as an eighth grader at Kiser Junior High in the ’60s. “At that time they were $27.95. It’s not the same shoe. Today it’s fully leather-lined and has a thicker sole than the original, which had a canvas lining with partial leather, a much lighter weight.” Still, adjusted for inflation, a pair of Nettleton loafter purchased in 1965 for $27.95 would cost the equivalent of $258 today.

Younts-DeBoe was acquired by Henderson Belk in 1980 with the stated intention of leaving this downtown mainstay open. Regardless, just a year later, it fell upon previous owner Hank Millican, who had been with the store from the very beginning, to oversee the dismantling of the solid oak showcases built in 1929 for a short-lived relocation to Four Seasons Mall, about which the less said the better. You can still see Younts-DeBoe’s logo inlaid

Montaldo’ s Meyer’ s

Cigarette Pants Scraps of History

One clothing retailer stubbornly remained downtown until the ground underneath became far more valuable than the business on it.

In 1926, Blumenthal’s got underway in a cubby hole at 358 South Elm. “The store with a heart” expanded into a new building built on that spot and adjoining properties in 1945 to create an 8,140 square-foot footprint specializing in denim jeans, work boots and hunting knives. Big and tall with extra, extra large sizes — a huge pair of bib overalls often on display to everyone’s amazement — could be found inside. Plus, they peddled cigarettes at prices so low, they were practically being given away just to get customers in the door. It worked. With 60 brands on hand, Blumenthal’s sold more smokes than any 10 stores combined.

Stacks upon stacks of Wrangler and Levi’s jeans, and the easy availability of Converse sneakers made Blumenthal’s back-to-school central for generation after generation. Suspended from the ceiling were three gigantic neon accented metal signs promising a free dollar bill if your receipt was incorrect or a complimentary pack of smokes if any of the numbers on your receipt matched numbers inscribed on the sign.

I won’t say this place was déclassé, but, for a time, there was a loudspeaker that allowed Abe Blumenthal to admonish people who parked too long out in front of his store. Blumenthal’s relocated to West Market in 2005 and closed its doors for good seven years later. The original location was supplanted in 2012 by an apartment complex named after the store.

PHOTOGRAPHS © CAROL W. MARTIN/GREENSBORO HISTORY MUSEUM COLLECTION

Belk’s Department Store, 1951

Montaldo’s, 1953

in the marble flooring in the lobby and embossed into the sandstone exterior at 106 North Elm.

In-store fashion shows were heavily attended events in the 1940s and ’50s. By the late-1960s, Greensboro’s Fashion Week came in October with a runway show held in the main room of the Coliseum. “It was a huge thing for a few years,” Charlie Hensley told me about his brief fling as a model. “Sandy Forman used to direct this thing and it was very posh, high production values, very well mapped out.” Staging was constructed for the event and a live band accompanied the show. “Backstage they gave you boxes of clothes. Everything was racked according to the model.” A representative from every store was standing in the wings to review everyone’s look before they strutted forward. “I modeled for Joel Fleishman who had a store at Friendly. My God,” Hensley gasps, “those were beautiful clothes.”

In the ’70s, the program migrated over to the Carolina Theatre where 15-year-old John Shepherd walked the runway wearing clothing from his parents’ store, Bernard Shepherd, “which I hated but I got roped into it.” Shepherd says, “Mom would come up to all the male models and slap a Kotex mini pad under our armpits so we wouldn't perspire on the shirts because they were going back into stock.”

My family frequented Bernard Shepherd at Friendly ever since the grand opening in 1967. It’s where the menfolk bought all of our suits while my mother was often outfitted from the ladies’ section up front. John Shepherd began working for his parents, Bernard and Eleanor, in 1987 at 19 years old. Primarily a men’s outfitter, Bernard Shepherd car ried high-end traditional menswear lines with the option of being measured for a custom fitted suit. “We had a box full of swatches you could go through to pick your fabric, lining, your buttons, everything,” Shepherd says. Clothing manu facturing reps with their goods hanging on racks rolled into the office at the rear of the store, “Or they showed up in big motor homes parked behind the store. They had all of their latest styles displayed inside.”

The malling of America had a chilling effect on traditional mom-and-pop retailers. To combat this phenomenon in 1976, Starmount, Friendly Center’s owner, introduced Forum VI nearby with a promise of being Greensboro’s climate controlled, bougie apparel and dining destination. Anchored by Montaldo’s after they finally closed what had become their downtown tomb on Elm and Friendly, the city’s fashion shows were now held at the Forum.

Shopping malls were fully open on the sabbath, which is why, beginning in 1990, Starmount required all tenants at Friendly Center to conduct business seven days a week. The Shepherds were against doing so on religious grounds. They sued and won what was a pyrrhic victory. “Starmount threatened to padlock the store,” John Shepherd tells me, which they apparently had a right to do. An agreement was forged in 1990. The store could stay closed on Sundays, Shepherd recalls, “but Starmount would pay to outfit a new store and build it out at Forum VI.”

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

PHOTOGRAPHS © CAROL W. MARTIN/GREENSBORO HISTORY MUSEUM COLLECTION

Meyer’s Department Store

Belk’s Department Store, 1951

That same year and for the same reason, Brownhill’s was redirected into Forum VI. Both stores experienced a steep decline in sales. For a multitude of reasons, Forum VI never really caught on. Montaldo’s liquidated all of its stores in 1995, and Bernard Shepherd was shuttered a few months later. After almost 70 years in Greensboro, Brownhill’s sold everything, down to the fixtures, in 1996.

In terms of fashion locally, it became a race to the bottom when Cone Mills instituted dress down Fridays in the 1990s. Around that same period, VF down town went every-day-casual, with others quickly following. “As it progressed,” Dan Dellinger points out, “some people looked like they were mowing yards when they came in to buy clothes.” Employee standards dropped so low at VF, it had to initiate a dress code. “Casual Fridays at the office, that was the beginning of the end,” Kit Rodenbough says with a sigh. “Once the men didn't have to wear neckties and suits every day, the women were like, you know, [forget] this!”

Downtown, Meyer’s intricately detailed, monolithic 1924 castle is intact, serving a useful purpose as headquarters for the Chamber of Commerce and others, but Belk and Montaldo’s former residences long ago succumbed to the wrecking ball. Ellis Stone/Elm Street Center has a date with one, having already been stripped clean of every sumptuous design element.

Seeking continuity? At 530 South Elm, Laurie’s original 1951 location, you can pursue your passion for fashion at Vintage to Vogue. Plaza Shopping Center and the cluster of 1950s era bungalows behind it on Pembroke remains a fashion-forward location for women and children just as it was in the 1960s and ’70s when Prago-Guyes had a storefront there and Lollipop Shop was a long-time tenant. On Pembroke behind Plaza in the ’50s, my grandmother enjoyed the ambiance at Helen Mulvey’s Handicraft House, which sold Yankee Peddler cotton dresses and country shirts.

Locally sourced panache still bubbles over in boutiques at Plaza Shopping Center: The Feathered Nest for ladies and Polliwogs for the kiddos. Steps away, next door to the former Handicraft House, is my late mother’s favorite place in town, Carolyn Todd’s. “They have the correct cheese straws,” she would remind us every holiday season. Her last Christmas, I accompanied Mother to Carolyn Todd’s, where she procured a major portion of her presents that morning. As we were checking out I watched bemused as — this was just a few years ago — she signed for her purchases and we were on our way. OH Billy Ingram’s fave article of clothing is a 1960s Sy Devore short-sleeved, striped knit shirt once worn by Frank Sinatra.

Fashion Flare Scraps of History

Proprietor John Mitchell began folding shirts and assisting his father and his uncle at Mitchell’s Clothing across the street from the Cadillac dealership when he was 12-years old. He’s a spry 95 today. In business since 1939, John Mitchell bought the place in 1962. “I changed things,” he tells me. “We were selling work clothes, work shoes, but I went into high fashion and men’s dress clothes.” Mitchell’s clientele has traditionally been and remains about 80 percent African-American. Sales went through the roof when Mitchell picked up on an emerging unisex fashion trend out of Europe via New York City: bell bottom pants. “Belk and Meyer’s had ‘em first,” Mitchell admits. “But they couldn't sell ’em so they quit. A year or two later, I got big into bell bottoms.” That was around 1970, when flared legs suddenly became the hot, hip-hugging style for both men and women. “For a while I was the only store in Greensboro selling bell bottoms and the Tom Jones[style] rayon shirts with big, wide collars and stack shoes with the high heel.”

Besides Stacy Adams’ Madison shoes and crisp dress shirts, Mitchell’s is known as the place in town to find funky chapeaus from Stetson, Kangol, and more obscure designers. “People come from all around the country to buy my hats,” he says. Does he have any polyester era bell bottoms or platform shoes still hanging around? “A guy came in from California looking for those things and he bought all those old fashioned shoes and men's clothes.”

Laurie's at Friendly Shopping Center, 1970s-1980s

Address: Morris Whitfield

A veteran pays homage to those who went before

By Colonel Charles a. Jones, U.s. m arine Corps r eserve (r etired)

Some people, such as Morris Whitfield, have an address known only by their first and last names.

But, in fact, his address has additional information: Section One, Number 88.

Morris Whitfield resides — really, rests — at that address, which is a grave in the Veteran’s Circle of Greensboro’s Forest Lawn Cemetery.

I first learned about Morris Whitfield after my 1995 visit to Iwo Jima, the Pacific Island that was the site of perhaps the most famous battle in Marine Corps history. Marines became famous for twice raising American flags atop Iwo’s Mount Suribachi on February 23, 1945, during World War II. The second flag raising was the subject of the photograph that won Joe Rosenthal a Pulitzer Prize for Photography. His iconic photograph is one of the most famous in the history of warfare.

But unlike many Marines and their Navy corpsman who saw the flags atop the mountain, Morris Whitfield missed the event because, like so many of Iwo Jima’s casualties, he was already dead.

After my return from Iwo Jima, which the United States returned to Japan in 1968, my parents and I visited the Veteran’s Circle of Forest Lawn Cemetery for no particular reason. By chance I spotted the Whitfield tombstone and, being a Marine myself, gravitated to it when I read part of its inscription: “PVT US MARINE CORPS,” with “PVT” representing Private, the lowest grade in the Marine Corps. Having been to Iwo Jima, I knew immediately the importance of his date of death: “FEBRUARY 19 1945,” D-Day for Iwo Jima,

the date the Marines and their Navy corpsmen landed on the island to capture it from the Japanese.

The sadness is twofold: first, his death itself, and second, his death so soon — the very day he came ashore.

When I worked at the United States Marine Corps History Division, I obtained the casualty report for Morris Whitfield (“casrep” in typical military expression). From the casrep I learned that he was a member of the 31st Replacement Draft, an organization comprising Marines in a rear area where they remained until one or more of them were sent forward when needed in frontline units, engaged in combat, to replace Marines who had been killed or who were wounded and evacuated.

The casrep reported the cause of death as “GSW mult lower extremities.” Translation: multiple gunshot wounds hit his lower extremities.

Morris Whitfield was buried on Iwo Jima with the remainder of his fallen Marine Corps and Navy comrades, but authorities decided after the war that none of our war dead would be left in what was former enemy territory. Thus began grueling, ghastly mass exhumations, and returns of the remains of our dead buried on Iwo Jima, and their transfer to the United States for burial in a national or private cemetery of the family’s choice. Since his widow had remarried, Morris Whitfield’s father requested in 1948 that his son be buried in Forest Lawn.

But Morris Whitfield is more than a burial for me — he and his tombstone are a reminder of what may have hap

Lt. Elmer Jones below the the left nose of the B-29 Superfortress.

Col. Charles A. Jones saluting his father's grave.

Crew of the B-29 kneeling with six enlisted men standing behind them. Lt. Elmer Jones is kneeling second to the left.

pened to my own father, a Glenwood “boy” who was the radar operator on a B-29 Superfortress bomber with 28 combat missions over Japan: 13 bombing missions and 15 photoreconnaissance missions. The crew named the B-29 “Double Trouble” and “City of Maywood.”

After he died in 2014, I found among his effects a handout titled “Memorial Day Program.” Obviously, his mother (my grandmother) sent it to my father during the war or gave it to him after he returned from the Pacific War.

The program was for a Memorial Day ceremo ny on Sunday, May 27, 1945, at Forest Lawn to honor war dead who were listed under the title, “Roll of Honor.” Under that title was “Names Added Since Last Memorial Day,” a testament to the nonstop killing occurring during World War II and the need to honor the dead, from both Greensboro and rural Guilford county, lost during each year of the war.

The program reflected our then-segregated

society, so under the heading “World War II” was a section with the names of Greensboro “White” men. Below that list was a section with the names of Greensboro “Colored” men. The rural section followed suit: Below the list for Guilford County “White” men was a list of Guilford County “Colored” men.

The name of Greensboro’s most famous airman, “Preddy, George Earle, Jr.,” was on the list of dead since he was killed by “friendly fire” on Christmas Day 1944. To this day, he remains the pilot with the most kills while flying a P-51 Mustang fighter and is the number six ace among all United States Air Forces aces (although he was, like my father, a member of the United States Army Air Forces during World War II since the Air Force was not separate from the Army until 1947).

The sadness is in my grandmother’s markings on the program. She placed 11 “X” marks beside the names of “boys” she knew who were lost during World War II. And on the front she wrote a note to my father: “You may know some of these boys on here — I do.”

Under the heading “Rural Guilford County — White” was a familiar name: “Whitfield, M. E.”

My father has three connections to Morris Whitfield.

First, his B-29 had to land on Iwo Jima twice during the war, once for fuel and once for repair. Had the Marines and their Navy Corpsmen not captured the island, my father may have had to

Lt. Elmer Jones, 1994.

PVT Morris Whitfield's grave at Veteran’s Circle of Greensboro’s Forest Lawn Cemetery.

parachute into the Pacific Ocean, an irony since he flew so many times over the Pacific but could not swim. Or his B-29 may have ditched in the ocean, an unpleasant and dangerous action at best.

Second, my father is buried near Morris Whitfield. Each December, the Wreaths Across America program places wreaths on veteran graves in veteran sections of cemeteries. I attended in 2019 and 2021, and each time I “appropriated” two wreaths before the speaker stopped speaking so I could be the person placing a wreath against Morris Whitfield’s tombstone and one on my own father’s footstone — since he is outside the veterans section, he would not have received a wreath but for my determination that he have one.

Third, and most importantly, my father survived the war for four reasons. His aircraft commander was a superb pilot. My father was adamant that the number of photoreconnaissance missions saved his crew since they were “single ship” missions, meaning the plane flew the mission alone; the Japanese would not shoot at a solo B-29 to keep from disclosing their antiaircraft gun locations. Another reason was luck. And the final reason was Iwo Jima: Had Marines and Navy Corpsmen not captured Iwo Jima so it could be a place for bombers to make emergency landings, my father may have perished in the ocean.

So what was most important was that my father’s name was not on the list of the dead for deaths up to Memorial Day 1945. But it could have been: From April 1945 to Memorial Day 1945, he was flying combat missions over Japan in his B-29.

If my father were killed or missing after Memorial Day 1945,

his mother may have found herself at Forest Lawn in 1946 on Memorial Day with a sad updated program — one with the name of her son under “World War II — Greensboro White.” And this story would never have been written.

Combat death is callous, stripping almost all personal attributes from what had once been a living, breathing combatant who had an address, friends and family. Remaining is a casrep with the typed ominous acronym, “KIA” (killed in action) — a notation I thank God was not typed besides my father’s name. Also remaining is the title, “hero,” reserved for men like Morris Whitfield who did not return and were — and still are — left with only a few brief etchings on a tombstone.

Thus the address remains the same and always will — simply “MORRIS E WHITFIELD.” And that address is timeless: Morris Whitfield will never move. He will not be departing Forest Lawn Cemetery temporarily or permanently. I had to travel thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean to reach and to visit Iwo Jima to learn the importance of the date that placed and keeps him in Section 1, Number 88. OH

Colonel Charles A. Jones, U.S. Marine Corps Reserve, served as a judge advocate (military lawyer) in the Regular and Reserve Marine Corps for a combination of 30 years (1981 to 2011). He enjoys his major passion: researching and writing military history. He wrote a biography of his father focusing on his World War Two experiences: B-29 “Double Trouble” is “Mister Bee” (available on Amazon). His email is cajonesdt@gmail.com.

Lt. Elmer Jone's grave at Veteran’s Circle of Greensboro’s Forest Lawn Cemetery.

Remembering Frank Jr.

A tribute to a leader

By Jim Jenkins

rank Arthur Daniels Jr. died at the age of 90 on June 30, 2022, in his hometown of Raleigh. It was the peaceful conclusion of a life full of professional accomplishment, financial success, and contributions to his community and his state. But for his multitudes of friends and family, Frank Jr. — as just about everybody called him — is remembered for his capacity to give and receive love.

Sitting in the cavernous dining area of her parents’ home on White Oak Road, Julie Daniels, Frank Jr.’s daughter, and her husband, Tom West, scan the many family portraits and mementos. There is one of her father, then 65, in front of a printing press.

“Look!” she says. “He’s got the little red book in his pocket. He always had that.”

Yes, Frank Jr. always carried a book with the names of his best friends, their phone numbers and their birthdays. When he was younger, he’d send cards; as he got older, he found it easier to call them and sing to them (and anyone who was with him would be expected to sing along).

Julie is one of two children of Frank Jr. and his wife, Julia, and her memories are exactly what her father would want them to be. “Oh, they had fun — parties all the time, events at the paper, things like that,” she says. “But they always put me and my brother first. I don’t re-

member that they had all kinds of money — and they didn’t think of themselves that way. But when you ask me, what was his happiest day, I’d say just about every day was his happiest.”

Frank Daniels Jr. was born at the “Old Rex Hospital,” on Sept. 7, 1931. His father, Frank Daniels Sr., was one of four brothers, three of whom were active in running The News & Observer, which was owned by Frank Jr.’s grandfather, Josephus Daniels. He attended Woodberry Forest School near Orange, Virginia, and graduated from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill in 1953. He did two years in the U.S. Air Force in Japan and tried a year of law school but was inevitably drawn back to The N&O, which turned out to be more than his birthright — it was his destiny.

Though he and his sister, Patsy, were raised in comfort and power, Frank Jr. was a righteous man. He had a sense of right and wrong that transcended the views of the generation from which he came, and of the family from which he descended. His son Frank Daniels III recalls going to the ACC basketball tournament with his father in 1968, when he was 12. It was the first varsity year for Charles Scott, a UNC sophomore who was the first Black basketball player for the Tar Heels.

A man behind them began taunting Scott. It was something Frank’s dad tolerated until he

COURTESY OF JULIE WOOD

Frank Jr. at press with grandfather Josephus Daniels in 1939.

heard the n-word. “He turned around and told the guy to shut the hell up and then said, ‘We don’t need you here.’ The guy left,” says Frank III. “That really took something.”

Frank Jr. worked various jobs in all departments at The N&O and was popular with the other workers at the paper. Sometimes he chafed a bit working for his father (who, as the publisher, ran the business operations) and his uncle Jonathan, the editor, but he stayed the course and, after working his way up, became publisher in 1971.

A big man for his time, Frank Jr. was 6 feet, 3 inches tall and burly. He had huge hands and a booming bass voice that carried through a room, though his eyes possessed a mischievous twinkle and he loved a good joke.

Gary Pearce, a longtime political strategist, remembers his boss from his own early days as an assistant city editor at The N&O in the mid1970s. “He’d walk through the newsroom every day about 5 o’clock to go talk to Claude Sitton,” says Pearce, referring to the editor of the paper at the time. “One day, Frank’s walking through and there’s a phone ringing at an empty desk. No one’s there, so Frank — the publisher, now — puts down his briefcase, answers the phone, puts a piece of paper in the typewriter and takes down the item, a minor news brief. Then he sticks it in the basket, gathers his stuff and

PHOTOGRAPHS COURTESY OF THE NEWS & OBSERVER

walks on down the hall, not saying a word to anybody. Most publishers wouldn’t have done it. That told me a lot.”

While at The N&O, Frank Jr. took some courageous stands as a fellow who owned a newspaper too liberal for many local business and community swells. He pushed for a merger of the Wake County and Raleigh schools, supporting a contro versial change that led to vastly improved, integrated schools. He supported civil rights and women’s rights and didn’t balk when the newspaper started asking troubling questions about the war in Vietnam.

In addition to leading the paper, Frank Jr. rose to the top of dozens of professional associations. He was chairman of The Associated Press, and part of the leadership of nearly every civic organization in Raleigh — from United Way to school support groups to the YMCA board to chairing the boards of the North Carolina Museums of History and Natural Sciences. His board memberships and chairmanships over nine decades were too numerous to name, but his son says that his favorite post was chairman of the Smithsonian Institution’s National Board. He arranged partnerships between the Smithsonian and North Carolina’s history

and science museums. They reflected his lifelong belief that everyone, at every sta tion in life, deserved to know about art, history and science, and that the knowl edge should be free.

Frank III says that his father’s seemingly natural capacity for leadership always put him in charge of whatever organization he had been asked to join. “Every group he was in, he rose to the top,” Frank III says. “I think it was his capacity for empathy. He could see what people needed, and it was important for him to help them.”

The Daniels family sold The News & Observer to the McClatchy newspaper company in California in 1995, and Frank Jr. remained as publisher until he retired in 1996.

In retirement, he became busier than ever, continuing his board memberships, staying active particularly in Democratic Party politics. Virtually every governor paid him a call. No one is sure if he ever gave a campaign contribution to a Republican. During his tenure, as with his grandfather and father, The N&O never endorsed a Republican candidate for office.

Frank Jr. bought a building on Fayetteville Street in downtown Raleigh and established an office on the sixth

Left: Publisher Frank Daniels Jr. and Raleigh Times Editor A.C. Snow look over the final edition of the Raleigh Times.

Right: Asst. city editor Ted Vaden, editor Claude Sitton, and publisher Frank Daniels Jr. working.

floor, where he entertained movers and shakers and fellow board members and politicians. Through his membership in social and golf clubs he influenced another two generations of businesspeople, candi dates and entrepreneurs. Until the very last month of life, he rarely had an empty lunch date or an evening without some kind of activity.

Even after his departure from The N&O, Frank Jr. supported new ventures and publications. Shortly after his retirement, he and four others bought The Pilot in Southern Pines, then owned by Sam Ragan. Why did he do it? “It just gets in your blood,” was all he ever said.

One of the other owners is David Woronoff, Frank Jr.’s nephew. Woronoff, who runs the business for the partnership, was young at the beginning, confident but willing to ask his uncle’s advice.

“He’d never let me call up and say, ‘This happened, what should I do?’” Woronoff laughs. “But he’d give advice — not that he expected you to take it.”

Left: Frank Jr. and David Woronoff.

Middle: Frank IV, Frank Jr., Frank III

Right: Frank Jr. and Julia with Patsy Daniels-Lindley and Lucy Daniels.

In one case, a prominent Pinehurst businessman called Woronoff, the pub lisher of The Pilot, after the newspaper was critical of a venture in which the busi nessman was involved. “He was screaming at me,” says Woronoff, “really rough stuff.” Woronoff called his uncle and the advice Frank Jr. gave him was unequivocal. “He said, ‘David, you never go wrong punching the biggest bully in town in the nose. What would be wrong would be if you didn’t give the person in need a hand up.’”

Frank Jr. stayed involved in the publishing group until his death, as it added The Country Bookshop, another community paper and five magazines — Business North Carolina, PineStraw, WALTER, O.Henry and SouthPark — to its stable.

Frank Jr. built friendships from childhood that lasted him a lifetime, but what he enjoyed most about all his associations was just learning. His granddaughter, Kimberly Daniels Taws, who runs The Country Bookshop, remembers visiting the beach with her grandfather when she was young. She joined him on the deck, where he was sitting next to a foot-tall stack of unusual reading material: clip pings, folders, magazines, books. “I said, ‘What are you doing?’” she says. “And he

said, ‘Well, I’m trying to figure out how I feel about nuclear power.’”

Many years ago, Frank Jr. hired attorney Wade Smith to help with some legal issues involving the newspaper. That led to a deep, lifelong friendship. “To me, Frank was larger than life, but Frank was real,” Smith says. “There was no putting on airs about him. He would be straight with you in all ways, and I liked that about him.”

Communications consultant Joyce Fitzpatrick met Frank Jr. when she rented space in a downtown building he owned some 20 years ago. She began regular lunches with him and Smith once or twice a month. “He was a hyper-social person,” she says. “He loved to have his lunches planned. We always typed out an agenda. It covered everything — politics, world events. People would come over to sit with us, wanting to know the latest.”

One thing he didn’t seem to have was inhibition. “Oh,” Fitzpatrick says, “ we ’d switch from politics to golf to what hap pens when we die. In the last few lunches, Wade would give comfort: We’ll see each other again.”

Perhaps, in the end, Frank Arthur Daniels Jr. is proof that a man can be great without being perfect. Frank Jr.

was the first to laugh at his own flaws; he enjoyed off-color humor, indulged in profanity and played practical jokes. But if he felt he’d been too rough on someone, he’d apologize.

“From him I learned the beauty of friendship and being with other people. The importance of generosity. And that sense of humor!” says his daughter Julie. “Sometimes you don’t realize the great gifts.”

In a eulogy at his father’s funeral at White Memorial Presbyterian Church, his son, Frank III, shared a note that Frank Jr.’s longtime personal assistant, Julie Wood, found on his desk after he passed: Feed the hungry. Clothe the naked. Forgive the guilty. Welcome the stranger and the unwanted child. Care for the ill. Love your enemies.

“It’s a list of what he thought religion — and we — should teach,” says Frank III, who closed the eulogy with: “We’ll do our best.” OH

Jim Jenkins is an award-winning writer who has received North Carolina’s high est honor, the Order of the Long Leaf Pine. He retired from The News & Ob server in 2018 after 31 years as an editor, columnist and chief editorial writer.

Renovation

By Cynthia a dams

photographs By a my Freeman

When artist Susan Harrell

first toured the languishing Victorian in Greensboro’s historic Dunleath, she beheld a towering, purple two-story trimmed out in cream. And that purple? “The paint was coming off in ribbons,” she says ruefully. The house soon became the artist’s agony and ecstasy.

A partial renovation had been halted before completion and it sat empty, she explains with a frown conveying the unsaid. Then in foreclosure, it was on the edge of becoming derelict. “There were squatters in the house.”

Undaunted, she jokingly dubbed it “The Purple Palace,” and made an offer.

And so began a true May/December relationship, given Harrell was only 34 at the time. The house was almost a century older than its new owner. Yet she unreservedly loved her Purple Palace.

The interior, too, was a confusion of ambitious ideas left unfinished.

By best estimates, the house is easily 122 years old, but darned if it doesn’t look great for its age today, thanks to an artist’s touch, and no small amount of dedicated labor, creative decisions and persistence.

(Pinpointing the exact age is tricky. According to the National Register nomination, the house dates to 1905. Greensboro city planner and historian Mike Cowhig, who works with the Greensboro Historical Commission, believes the property is at least five years older.)

As a full-time artist and avid DIYer who never met a power tool she didn’t like, Harrell immediately recognized the problem causing the peeling paint and knew how to solve it. The exterior had been sprayed, she says, twisting her mouth.

Bad idea.

“The siding is cedar, and you really need to brush it on.”

She painstakingly scraped the purple off, doing much of the work herself, renting a scissor lift, given the vertiginous height of the house.

“I had experience with lifts because I have done murals.” (Three of Harrell’s original murals, includ-

ing a restoration, are in her hometown of Asheboro.)

And The Purple Palace would require all her gifts — both her artistic and construction abilities. And it would change her life.

Although the prior owners had made some big-ticket improvements, wiring and reworking plaster walls with sheetrock, they miscalculated costly things like a posh kitchen. Hence the foreclosure.

“They spent $900 on cabinet pulls,” Harrell explains, shaking her head. Yet there was no backsplash in the mostlycompleted kitchen.

And considerable cash had been outlaid on maple flooring in the entry and main area, juxtaposed against rooms with original

red oak. She throws up her hands. She stored and saved boards of the original oak for reuse or resale. After all, the upstairs renovation still awaits.

Harrell, who loves millwork and carpentry, replaced a lot of wood, including a rotting rear porch. Inside, she removed new columns that cut up the main rooms.

She changed the interior crazy quilt color scheme, calming and unifying spaces with quieter tones. After Harrell’s cosmetic touches, including a calmer color palate inside and out, the onetime home to squatters was no longer a laughing matter.

Goodbye, Purple Palace. Or “Frankenhouse,” as she started calling it.

Over the span of a century, the sizable house has led many lives, including one as a child care facility. “Maybe once a duplex, too,” Harrell guesses. “It had a parking lot in the rear.” The original staircase and entrance hall had been moved, creating an open floor plan. But an artist requires wall space for artwork.

Harrell’s plan is to eventually restore many of the original walls, truer to the house’s vintage. “There was no definition for the living room,” she laments.

Her next project? Designing a period appropriate fireplace in what is now a dining area, installing gas logs. Designed for coal, she points out, the house’s many period fireplaces were “unusually small.” On a practical level, gas logs will help with heating the

3,200 square feet of space.

Her contractor brother, “who could do things out of my realm,” is now based in Blowing Rock, managing the building of high-end homes. Having helped him on projects, she had a vision for what the restoration needed.

She has been replicating the original historic door trim, milling it herself. (It’s often impossible to find, she points out.) Harrell owns three table saws, two drill presses, planers and jigsaws, which she regularly uses.

At last, Harrell grins, she has a shop for her many tools. “I’ve done a lot of reno work. I built a loft in Asheboro.”

Is there anything she doesn’t do?

She laughs. Harrell admits she cannot make more time in a day, in order to both create artwork and do restoration work. Meantime, Harrell’s taking a break from renovation for her art’s sake.

Her greatest passion — art — is something she discovered a bit late, while in her early 20s. On her way to becoming an interior designer at Rockingham Community College, she uncovered an affinity for drawing and painting.

“I would go to a local public library and look at the art section,” Harrell explains. “I ended up in the Old Masters and decided to replicate them.” Her first effort was duplicating the legendary Mona Lisa. She discovered she had a good eye for color, and kept going.

“A hare-brained idea,” she admits modestly.

“After a few (replications), my family started noticing what I was doing. My mom has always been my biggest fan and kept encouraging me.”

All five Harrell siblings are creative. Most of them are musical.

“They all have their own weird little super power,” she says with open admiration. One brother builds high performance race car engines, netting him “multiple world records.”

Is this why she, too, is fearlessly creative? “Maybe so,” Harrell answers.

Art resonated with her more than interior design. “In the process of getting exposed to more of the arts, that’s when I started getting more interested in it,” she explains. However, she has no art school background. “I’m 100 percent self-taught.”

Harrell shows her “Musing” series, featuring miniature reflections of Old Masters within the compositions. These were key to her being discovered and admitted to art shows. “That was pretty popular. That’s how I learned how to paint.” According to one collector, she has perfected her own technique of oil painting on an aluminum panel. (Aluminum was practical — cheaper, she explains.)

She experimented with extremes in scale, from painstakingly reproducing famous paintings in miniature, paintings within paintings, to outdoor murals. Harrell was eventually commissioned to paint a mural for an Asheboro hospice, as well as afore mentioned murals downtown.

While enrolled in community college, she met art teacher Melissa Walker, who introduced her to Ed Walker, her husband and the owner of Carolina Bronze Sculpture in Asheboro. For sev eral years, Harrell fabricated bronze sculptures there, working with

fiberglass, glass and clay. She even learned to weld. Fabrication was “extremely hot and heavy” — and dangerous, she concedes.

“I worked on the bronze and casing that surround the Declaration of Independence,” Harrell says proudly.

In 2001 when she was still a teenager, Harrell recalls Greensboro’s News and Record featuring her working on “February One,” James Barnhill’s iconic work, completed during 2001-2002. “I was welding together the bronze statue of the four students at A&T.”

The Greensboro Four sculpture resides on the North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University campus.

By 2009, Harrell moved beyond replication of Renaissance works to her first original oils. She imparted the gripping power of the very photographs she often worked from.

Harrell explains, “I was interested in the process . . . and near

photo-realism. The challenge: what it takes to make something look real. But when I got interested in art, realism wasn’t cool.”

Nonetheless, she soon found opportunity.

“When I first got into art, I got what I thought was lucky, having been invited into a group show at one of the top galleries in the country in Charleston, S.C.” She sold works as quickly as the paint dried.

For a decade, Harrell painted furiously. She looked successful.

“Everybody thought I was doing it all, right away. I was selling right away. But (some) galleries take 50 percent commissions . . . I wasn’t able to make a living.”

Harrell burned out. Flamed out, actually, and stopped exhibiting. When her contractor brother had an accident, she worked alongside him for a couple of years, learning the finer points of renovation. The physical work was satisfying.

“I need to sweat. We’re supposed to sweat.”

Musing Rockwell

Harrell found renovation rewarding. And yet . . .

“I thought I’d given up on art. If you don’t have a gallery, what do you do? And most of my work was selling out of state. So, nobody in Greensboro knew I was here, and I hadn’t made those connections.”

In a strange way, the house she was busy saving saved her.

Harrell “decided to come back to art in a different way. This house was pivotal.”

She uses the word “transformation.” The transformation of the property feels like kismet, Harrell explains, walking through the gardens, a pleasing blend of stone and brickwork. Brick walkways define pathways and a sunken area features benches created from enormous river stones.

The house flows to the outside with both open and screened porches. The hardscaping was there when she acquired the property, as well as a rustic studio and abundant plantings.

There are 18 gardenias on the property. When they bloom in synchronicity with the garden’s heirloom roses, she finds bliss.

“I’ve never been into flowers . . . I’d never smelled good flowers until I moved here. And now I get it,” Harrell says. “And when they bloom, it’s like a fairy tale.”

Outdoor space, Harrell says, made the early months of COVID bearable — even enjoyable.

The former Purple Palace is quietly soothing.

Harrell’s work today includes seascapes, landscapes, still lifes and figurative paintings. She is starting a new series titled “Group Think II.”

Harrell credits recent shifts, her renewed future hopes, in part “to Nathan Wainscott.”

“She’s without question the most talented artist in the state, perhaps beyond,” opines Wainscott, a commercial artist and the owner of Inspire by Color.

He commissioned Harrell to create a painting of the Biltmore as an anniversary gift to his wife. He treasures a picture of Harrell at her easel working on the commission, saying he marvels at her work.

Wainscott calls her paintings, “stories within stories.” As a fellow artist, he finds her gifts exceptional.

Plus, he also works with both new and restoration projects, so he knows whereof he speaks. Harrell’s historic home has its own stories to tell, but he feels that she has added “the matchless talent of her artistry.”

Harrell has battled against crazy odds during the restoration, suffering brown recluse spider bites to her ankle. Given her considerable height (she is 6 feet tall) the necrotic venom “was slowed in reaching my heart and circulation.” She later fended off Lyme disease from a tick bite — all within the past six years.

Finally, it is the resurgence of her creative powers and her art that has given her a second wind.

“Something in me never wants to give up. I felt like this about the house, too.” OH

Cynthia Adams is a contributing editor of O.Henry magazine.

ALMANAC

By a shley Walshe

November is a great sweeping wind, a clearing of what must go, a dance with a howling reaper.

The crickets have disappeared. Their nightly serenades, which crackled like warm vinyl from spring through harvest season, faded with the first hard frost. In their wake, the wind shrieks through naked trees. A great horned owl bellows from his perch.

The garden folds into itself. The porch toads that lurked by the watering can on warm autumn evenings now burrow beneath the frost line. Field mice shimmy down chimneys, squeeze through eaves, craft their nests inside cozy walls.

Songbirds come and go. Hermit thrushes strip the hollies of their crimson fruit. White-throated sparrows shuffle through crumpled leaves, scratching up what’s buried underneath.

The wind sings of a quickening darkness. The squirrels, scram bling to cache pecans as they fall, retort with squawks and chatter. A skein of geese sails across a golden sunset.

At dusk, when the wind nips at the heels of those still roaming, a pair of coyotes yips and howls beyond the fringe. Back and forth they shriek, wailing like banshees, piercing the air with their shrill and haunting staccato.

“I’m here,” cries one to the other. A single voice sounds like dozens. A biting wind howls back.

When Pies Fly

For our neighbors in Albany, Georgia (pecan capital of the world), it’s raining you-know-what right now. But we have our share of toothsome treasures plummeting upon our leaf-littered neck of the woods, too. Especially in the southeastern part of the state. Whatever you call them — PEE-cans or pee-KAHNS — ’tis harvest season. Pick them as they drop or else the crows and squirrels will beat you to it. You’ll want to let them cure (essential if they’re not yet ripe) before shelling and freezing them. Store them in a mesh bag — and in a cool, dry place — for about two weeks. While you’re waiting? Dream of pie.

On that nut-studded note, have you ever cracked pecans? If so, then you can more deeply appreciate that the average pecan pie packs between 70 and 80 of those sweet and buttery little candies. No need to mention the calories.

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being.

Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead

Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing

— Percy Bysshe Shelley

Prepare to be Dazzled

On Tuesday, Nov. 8, a total lunar eclipse begins around 3 a.m. According to Smithsonian magazine, which named this celestial event one of 10 “dazzling” must-sees of 2022, the moon will appear reddish, as if “all the world’s sunrises and sunsets” are being cast upon it.

Speaking of dazzling events, here’s to hoping your Thanksgiving will be described as such. At the very least, don’t let the parsnips eclipse that homemade pie. OH

GUIDE

TO GIVING

O.Henry magazine is pleased to present the 2022 Guide to Giving.

As you begin planning for the holidays, please consider how you may be able to help these nonprofit organizations that are working to make our community a better place to live.

The O.Henry magazine Guide to Giving is a sampling of charitable organizations in our area that rely heavily on annual fundraising.

With your help, whether it be with your time or treasure, we can support their missions and have a hand in bettering our community.

We thank the local business leaders and individuals who made our Guide to Giving possible through their sponsorship.

To learn about sponsoring a nonprofit organization in 2023’s Guide to Giving, please call 336-617-0090.

MISSION

336.621.3435

Established 1997

MISSION STATEMENT

provide the best care and love for

To eliminate the suffering of Dobermans

have been victims of neglect and/or abuse. To rehabilitate and re-home these Dobermans in permanent loving homes.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

ask that prospective volunteers complete an on-line appli cation. To donate your time, review the Volunteer page on our website: www.Doberman-Rescue.com/volunteer.

HOW TO DONATE

Donations can be made through our website www.Dober man-Rescue.com/donate. Alternatively, donors can mail a check to DRT’s mailing address.

KEY FACTS

DRT does not pick and choose which Dobes to accept into the program based on how easily they may be placed, regardless of age and health concerns. DRT accepts Dobermans from shelters as well as private owners who are forced to surrender their Dobermans.

MISSION STATEMENT

Mount Jubilee Ministries is a Christ-centered community offering dynamic opportunities for those with Intellectual and/or Developmental Disabilities and their families.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

Visit us online at mountjubilee.org/get-involved/ or @MountJubilee on Facebook to see all our volunteer opportunities, and how to get involved.

HOW TO DONATE

Donations are welcome on our website or by mail. www.mountjubilee.org/donate Mail to: Mount Jubilee Ministries, PO Box 81, Reidsville, NC 27323

PO Box 81, Reidsville, NC 27323 336.552.3766 www.mountjubilee.org

Established 2005, a 501 (c)(3) organization.

WHO WE SERVE

Mount Jubilee Ministries serves individuals over 18 who have Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities needing mild to moderate support.

KEY FACTS:

• Founded in 2005 as a one-week residential camp opportunity for individuals with disabilities and continues to host Camp Jubilee each summer.

• In 2016 strategic planning began to expand MJM’s offerings to include day programs and a residential community.

• Our first His Path Developmental Day Program launched in Rockingham County in December 2019, followed by our 2nd and 3rd day programs in Winston-Salem August 2021 and in Greensboro June 2022.

• Our day programs are expanding in 2023 to include social enterprise that will offer vocational opportunities for our His Path Heroes

• We use “Heroes” because our participants demonstrate courage while striving for outstanding achievement, demonstrating their God-given qualities.

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MISSION STATEMENT

To ensure that all

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

Guilford Adult Dental is organized by the GCCN to provide dental services to uninsured Guilford County residents. Call Stephanie Staley at 336- 890-8912 about volunteering as an oral health specialist.

HOW TO DONATE

Support for Guilford Community Care Network can be made by check or online at guilfordccn.org.

PO BOX 4031 Greensboro, NC 27404 336.895.4900 www.guilfordccn.org

Established 2003

WHO WE SERVE

Guilford Community Care Network coordinates access to primary care and specialty care for Guilford County residents with an income between 0%-200% of the Federal Poverty Level.

KEY FACTS:

• In Fiscal Year 2022 more than 2,500 patients were enrolled in Guilford Community Care Network and received over 2,700 care management services.

• Our Adult Dental Clinic provided 1411 patient visits valued at $368,031.

• GCCN’s Return on Investment: $70 for every one dollar invested in support!

• Next year GCCN will celebrate 20 years of service to the most vulnerable in our community

This ad made possible by Morrison Dentistry

MISSION STATEMENT

Noble Academy empowers students with learning differences to pursue their highest potential within a comprehensive, supportive educational environment.

WHY WE MATTER

We develop self-advocacy skills. We develop reading and math confidence. We develop social skills and we bring back a student’s love for learning.

HOW TO DONATE

Donations are received at our website, www.nobleknights.org or directly at Noble Academy to the attention of Chere Flowers.

3310 Horse Pen Creek Rd., Greensboro, NC 27410 336.282.7044

www.NobleKnights.org

Established 1987

WHO WE SERVE

Students in grades 2-12 diagnosed with ADHD and learning differences or expe riences difficulties with attention, processing speed or memory, auditory processing, executive functioning, reading, math, or writing, and academic fluency, who meet our admission criteria.

KEY FACTS:

• 8:1 student/teacher ratio

• 100% graduation rate

• 1/3 of families receive tuition assistance or grants/scholarships from NCSEAA.

• Accreditations from SAIS, IDA, and a Wilson® Accredited Partner.

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Recommended by 95.7% of reviewers on Demand Force

MISSION STATEMENT

PDY&F is a nonprofit, public charity that has been in existence since 1992. Our mission is to embrace, empower and equip. PDY&F provides community members with skills, information, and the proper resources to achieve success in every area of life. Our core focus is to systematically eliminate food insecurities in our community, while creating a legacy of health and self-sufficiency.

HOW TO DONATE

https://app.easytithe.com/App/Giving/pdyf

2207 E. Cone Blvd. Greensboro, NC 27405 336.375.3900 www.pdyandf.org

Established 1992

WHO WE SERVE

The PDY&F Community Garden Project recognizes the access to healthy food, or the lack thereof has a direct correlation with the physical health of a commu nity, particularly in the wake of COVID-19. Consequently, the project initiatives aim to address food insecurity and the subsequent health issues related to food deserts. The targetted audience falls typically within Eastern Greensboro which is a known food desert.

KEY FACTS:

It is our immediate goal to cultivate a community garden that will be the spring board to #1, Feed Greensboro. #2, educate the community around sustainable farming practices and #3 launch a new generation of black and brown farmers.

This ad made possible by Triad Adult & Pediatric Medicine

PO Box 14608, Greensboro, NC 27415 336.632.1400 www.chsnc.org

Established 1902

MISSION STATEMENT

To promote the right of every child to a permanent, safe, and loving family.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

WHO WE SERVE www.chsnc.org/about/volunteer

HOW TO DONATE

• 800.632.1400

• www.chsnc.org/donate-today

• Contact Caitlin Stay, cstay@chsnc.org, 336-369-3781

Children and families in all 100 North Carolina counties in need of foster care, adoption, family preservation, and education services so that children can thrive. CHS helped more than 20,000 clients last year, with a statewide staff and offices in 10 cities across North Carolina.

KEY FACTS:

• Since our founding in 1902, CHS has placed more than 16,000 children with nurturing adoptive families.

• We help parents be the best that they can be by providing critical tools and resources for them to build stronger families. Whether that means doing whatever we can to keep families intact and healthy, or finding the right match to create new ones through foster care and adoption.

November is National Adoption Month.

Please consider fostering, adopting, or just learning more at chsnc.org.

This ad made possible by Truliant Federal Credit Union

200 N. Davie Street, Box 10 Greensboro, NC 27401 336-335-5456

GreensboroSymphony.org

Established 1959

MISSION STATEMENT

The mission of the Greensboro Symphony Orchestra (GSO) is to enrich the cultural life of Greensboro and surrounding areas through the development, promotion, and maintenance of a program of quality music and music education. Its primary vehicle for the conduct of these activities is the Greensboro Symphony Orchestra, which presents concerts, special events, educational opportunities, and related activities.

HOW TO DONATE

Support can be made by visiting GreensboroSymphony.Org or calling 336.335.5456.

WHO WE SERVE

Thousands of Greensboro Symphony patrons witness the magic of our Masterworks, POPS, Holiday, Chamber, Rock, and Family concerts annually, and more than 1 million local children have experienced an in-person concert since our inception in 1959. We provide weekly music classes to Headstart Programs in 5 counties and Beginning String lessons at Peck and Cone Elementary Schools. We have three Youth Orchestras, ensemble visits to every elementary school in Guilford County and full-orchestral concerts for elementary students in 4 counties, plus programs at area retirement homes, juvenile detention centers, and CaringSound at Cone Hospital.

KEY FACTS:

The Steven Tanger Center for the Performing Arts is our new home!

• We employ 77 Professional Musicians.

• Our Music Director, Dmitry Sitkovetsky, is a highly visible ambassador to Greensboro and throughout the world.

This ad made possible by Brooke Morgan Fields- Allen Tate

2110 Golden Gate Drive, Suite B Greensboro, NC 27405 336.429.5600 www.KellinFoundation.org

Established 2013

MISSION STATEMENT

Prevent. Treat. Heal. The Kellin Foundation’s mission is to strengthen resilience among children, families, adults and communities through free trauma-informed behavioral health services focused on prevention, treatment, and healing.

WHO WE SERVE

We serve children, teens, families, and adults by providing case management, counseling, and peer support. We focus on those who are uninsured or underinsured, without access to care otherwise. We also work to support our community through our Kellin Kids program and initiatives such as the Resilient Guilford Network.

KEY FACTS

• We are the only nationally recognized child trauma center with the National Child Traumatic Stress Network in Guilford.

www.kellinfoundation.org/volunteer

HOW TO DONATE

HOW TO VOLUNTEER www.kellinfoundation.org/donate

• Our 2022 merger with Mental Health Greensboro gives us a combined 82+ year history of providing free services in Guilford County to those who otherwise would not have access to care.

• We serve over 10,000 people per year for free who otherwise would not have access to care.

This ad made possible by Brooks Pierce

Help break this barrier to mental health care.

Kellin Foundation serves over 10,000 people a year by giving them access to free mental health care. Please consider supporting their mission.

910.799.5638

www.carolinaboxerrescue.org

Established

MISSION

balance the health, safety, and welfare needs of Boxers in the Carolinas, Virginia (parts of Georgia) by providing a loving and safe environment for stray, abused, impounded and owner

in

ultimate

HOW

Donations can be made online through Paypal.me/savethenubs, Venmo

by mail to PO Box 87, Hampstead, NC 28443. To learn more about volunteer opportunities, go to carolinaboxerrescue.org

KEY FACTS

•

in Operation:

• Number of

500+

Number of Boxers Rescued each year: Average of 250

What makes CBR unique: Foster-based and 100% volunteer. Every cent goes back to help the dogs. We take in seniors, hospice and dogs with severe medical conditions.

Break the Chain Kennel Kru

Established

MISSION STATEMENT

We work in under-served communities in Guilford County to assist families with chained dogs by becoming compliant with the local anti-tethering ordinance. We also care for the oncechained outside dogs in our program.

HOW TO DONATE

www.BTCKennelKru.org/how-to-donate or by calling Cardinal Animal Hospital at 336-668-9475

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

Email kennelkru@gmail.com

KEY FACTS

• BTCKK became a 501c3 on March 30, 2016

• We have unchained 119 dogs

• We provide full medical care for over 30 dogs in our program

• We board our most vulnerable outside dogs during extreme weather

301 N Elm Street, Suite 100 Greensboro, NC 27401 336.790.7830 www.cfgg.org

Established XXXX

MISSION STATEMENT

The Community Foundation of Greater Greensboro inspires giving, maximizes opportunities, and strengthens communities for present and future generations.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

If you are interested in learning more about serving on a volunteer committee, please call 336-790-7812 or e-mail macevedo@cfgg.org.

HOW TO DONATE

Donate Online: https://netcommunity.cfgg.org/donate Call 336-379-9100 Email development@cfgg.org

WHO WE SERVE

The Community Foundation of Greater Greensboro’s vision for our city is a welcoming and thriving place where people work together to enrich the lives of all. We accomplish this by: Understanding what matters to the community; Being a trusted partner that empowers others; Shepherding successful projects that draw the community together; and Helping diverse donors create impactful gifts.

KEY FACTS:

• Since our founding in 1983, we have granted over $380 million in hundreds of nonprofits and have received over $440 million in contributions.

• We manage over 700 charitable funds for individuals, families, businesses, foundations, and nonprofit organizations.

• Our community investments focus on: Economic Prosperity, Educational Success, Community Wellness, Cultural Vibrancy, Civic Engagement, and Nonprofit Excellence.

This ad made possible by Hanes Lineberry Funeral Services

Thank you, Greensboro, for your support since October 1919! 103

We are honored to serve as your local funeral experts for over 100 years. We strive to build long lasting relationships with every family we meet. We welcome your ideas and customize services to honor your traditions. From all of us at Hanes Lineberry Funeral Services, thank you for reaching out to us during your times of need.

Helping out community in many ways, this space was donated by Hanes Lineberry Funeral Services.

support the Community Foundation of Greater Greensboro and other charitable organizations that build better communities.

515 N. Elm St. Greensboro, NC 27401

6000 Gate City Blvd. Greensboro, NC 27407

Greensboro Satellite:

2517 Phillips Avenue, Greensboro, NC 27405

336.784.5770 www.SecondHarvestNWNC.org

Established 1982

MISSION STATEMENT

With our community and partners, we will increase food security and create pathways that build a stronger Northwest North Carolina.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

Whether you are helping to sort dry goods and produce; preparing meals for seniors and children; or helping out in our teaching garden, your time helps to set the table for local families. Visit SecondHarvestNWNC.org/volunteer.

HOW TO DONATE

With every $10 you give, Second Harvest can provide up to 70 nutritious meals. Make your gift at FeedCommunityNow.org.

Headquarters: 3330 Shorefair Drive Winston-Salem, NC 27105

WHO WE SERVE

Second Harvest is a vital community resource, providing food and services for a network of 500+ food assistance organizations serving Greensboro, all of Guilford County, and 17 other Northwest North Carolina counties. Each year, together, we provide 40+ million meals for neighbors in need.

KEY FACTS:

• Second Harvest partners with 123 food assistance programs serving Guilford County.

• 81% of the food provided by our Guilford Country partners comes from Second Harvest.

• Together, we provided more than 7.5 million meals for food insecure families last year.

This ad made possible by an anonymous sponsor

brings us together

Help us bring food, good health, and opportunity to neighbors this holiday season.

MISSION STATEMENT

Hannah’s Bridge Thrift Boutique sells gently used clothing, home decor, furniture, and accessories. Whether shopping or donating to Hannah’s Bridge proceeds benefit Hannah’s Haven, a Christ-centered addiction recovery program for women.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

Call

HOW TO DONATE

Donate your gently used women’s and men’s

Household items such as sofas, chairs, barstools and accessories. Call for large pickups.

This

PO Box 14724 Greensboro, NC 27415 336.656.1066 www.hannahshaven.net

Established 2003

WHO WE SERVE

The ministry will serve any women age 18 and older who have undergone medically supervised detoxification if needed. The program consists of two phases; residential for a minimum of 12 months and non-residential for 6-12 months. All Hannah’s Haven students must have a commitment to their own recovery.

KEY FACTS:

• We are

OTHERS THROUGH THE POWER OF JESUS CHRIST

by Kim Mathis-Keller Williams

Rachel SmallwoodRachel Smallwood NC Coast RealtorNC Coast Realtor

MISSION STATEMENT

financial aid for spay/neuter

the community

ing, appropriate

for

HOW TO DONATE

be made through our website or checks mailed

our physical address. We accept paypal.me/LPIA

Venmo @LPPNC. Sponsorships, raffle and auction for Waggin’ Wild 5K.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

STOP (Spay Today Outreach Program) provides financial aid to many NC counties. We feel an aggressive spay/neuter pro gram is the answer to the pet overpopulation problem. LPPNC

in senior and medical

dogs.

MISSION STATEMENT

SPCA of the Triad is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit animal rescue organization, dedicated to the rescue, rehabilitation, and re-homing of abused, unwanted, neglected, and sick animals in our community. We are one of the only rescues with a shelter in the Piedmont Triad.

HOW TO DONATE

a monetary donation, or view our Wish List at www.triadspca.org. Mail a check to PO Box 4461 Greensboro, NC 24707. Email us at spca@triadspca.org to establish a Pet Trust for your animals or leave a legacy donation.

KEY FACTS

serve the animals and residents of the Piedmont Triad community and surrounding areas. Through our efforts, we keep more pets alive and out of overcrowded county shelters that are forced to euthanize. Through our free food bank and low-cost rabies clinic, we help families keep their pets. We are not affiliated with any government agency or the ASPCA, so our funding comes from community support.

ad made possible by All Pets Considered

MISSION STATEMENT

To make disciples who reach UP to God, IN to the church, and OUT to the world.

VALUES

Gospel-centered worship • Fervent prayer

Multigenerational fellowship

Intentional discipleship • Service in ministry

Missional Living

HOW TO DONATE

www.summerfieldfbc.com/give

2300 Scalesville Rd, Summerfield, NC 27358 336.643.6383 www.summerfieldfbc.com

Established 1860

WHO WE SERVE

By God’s grace we strive to be a multigenerational, gospel-centered, disciple-making church family reaching Summerfield and beyond for the cause of Christ. We actively serve our community through our weekly food pantry and our quarterly feeding of the homeless. Our multigenerational ministries serve all ages including children, youth, adults, and senior adults.

PLEASE JOIN US TO

Worship on Sunday mornings at 10:30pm. For Sunday evening and Wednesday evening schedules, please visit us online at www.summerfieldfbc.com.

This ad made possible by Merle Norman

MISSION

Box 13136, Greensboro, NC 27415 336.272.5003 www.PreservationGreensboro.org

Established 1966

WHO WE SERVE

Greensboro

VOLUNTEER

KEY FACTS:

• Preservation Greensboro educates and advocates for historic structures in

Have a question about

• Blandwood Museum features an original mid-19th century

• Architectural Salvage recycles

DONATE

us

arts

building elements such as fireplace mantels and hardware. Visit the store to shop for beautiful treasures from the

Melissa Greer

Habitat Greensboro

3826 W. Gate City Blvd. Greensboro, NC 27407

336.275.4663

HabitatGreensboro.org

Established 1987

MISSION STATEMENT

Seeking to put God’s love into action, Habitat for Humanity brings people together to build homes, communities, and hope.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

Volunteers are at the heart of each Habitat home. Whether at our ReStore or on the build site, every volunteer is helping families build a foundation for a brighter future. Visit habitatgreensboro.org/volun teer to learn more.

ReStore Locations

3826 W. Gate City Blvd. Greensboro, NC 27407

2190 Lawndale Drive Greensboro, NC 27408

HOW TO DONATE

Every donation helps build safe, stable, and affordable housing. Donate securely online at: Habitat Greensboro.org. Habitat Greensboro is also grateful to accept donations of gently used home furnishings for our ReStore. To schedule a dona tion pick-up, please visit our website, or call 336.851.2929.

WHO WE SERVE

Habitat Greensboro works toward our vision of a world where everyone has a safe and affordable place to live. Partnering with low-income families who have a demonstrated need, an ability to pay an affordable mortgage, and a willingness to partner, we help families achieve the strength, stability, and self-reliance they need to build better lives for themselves.

KEY FACTS:

• Habitat Greensboro has helped more than 500 families achieve their dream of homeownership.

This ad made possible by generous Habitat Greensboro donors.

every gift can help make a family’s future more secure

habitatgreensboro.org

5140 Dunstan Rd, Greensboro, NC 27405 336.621.3381 www.fellowshiphall.com

Established 1971

MISSION STATEMENT

It is the mission of Fellowship Hall to help people who suffer from substance use disorder, and to provide compassionate, cost-effective care while maintaining our commitment to a Twelve-Step philosophy.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

Volunteers help us in a variety of ways. If you’re interested in serving as a volunteer, contact our Development Department at 336.553.6625.

HOW TO DONATE

To make a donation to our day-to-day operations or to our Partner Scholarship Program which covers the cost for individuals without health insurance or financial resources, visit fellowshiphall.com

WHO WE SERVE

Fellowship Hall is a private, not-for-profit 501(c)(3) specialty hospital treating adult women and men suffering from addiction to alcohol and/or drugs.

KEY FACTS:

• We are licensed by the NC Department of Health & Human Services as a specialty hospital and in operation since 1971

• We are accredited by the Join Commission and have been since 1974

• Our Medical Director is on staff and certified by the American Society of Addiction Medicine

• Our clinicians are Masters-level and trained in treating substance use disorders. They provide group and individual counseling sessions.

• Our nurses are licensed and are on site 24/7/365

• We offer Gender responsive treatment

This ad made possible by Ramseur Law

515 N. Elm St. Greensboro, NC 27401

MISSION STATEMENT

Turning Entrepreneurs Into Business Owners

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

We utilize SCORE volunteers to assist our Associates and entrepreneurs with their start up needs. To volunteer go to https://www.score.org/volunteer.

HOW TO DONATE

Donations can be made through our website. https://nussbaumcfe.com/donate/

1451 S Elm-Eugene St, Greensboro, NC 27406 336.379.5001 www.nussbaumcfe.com

Established 1987

WHO WE SERVE

Entrepreneurs and small business owners who are looking to grow their business in a safe environment. The Nussbaum Center for Entrepreneurship (NCFE) provides affordable office space and conference rooms in our 65,000 sf incubator. Free business coaching is available through our network of 6 in house partners. NCFE is conveniently located 1 mile from I-40 and downtown Greensboro.

KEY FACTS:

• NCFE was founded in 1987 and is the 2nd oldest small business incubator in the State of North Carolina.

• In 2021, our Associates created or retained 205 full time equivalent jobs with average salaries of $62,000.

• In 2022, Guerrilla RF made NCFE history by becoming the first Associate to go from idea to a publicly traded company.

• In 2023, NCFE will begin construction on The Steelhouse, an Urban Manufacturing and Innovation Center.

by Relief Heating & Cooling

220 North Church St., Greensboro, NC 27401 336.574.2898 www.mbcmuseum.com

Established 1999

MISSION STATEMENT

The Miriam P. Brenner Children’s Museum mission is to engage all children and families in hands-on, fun learning experiences which contribute to their growth and development through play, creation, outdoor exploration, and STEM experiences.

HOW TO VOLUNTEER

Volunteer opportunities are available for individuals and groups both on the Museum floor and in our Edible Schoolyard Garden. Visit www.mbcmuseum.com/ internships-and-jobs to find out more.

HOW TO DONATE

Visit our website at www.mbcmuseum.com and click donate to find out how to support our cause.

WHO WE SERVE

The Miriam P. Brenner Children’s Museum serves children and families in the Triad region and beyond, providing hands-on learning experiences through daily visits, school field trip programs, after-school creative and enrichment classes, and summer camps.

KEY FACTS:

• The Miriam P. Brenner Children’s Museum has been serving the Triad community since 1999.

• The Museum hosts over 120,000 visitors annually.

• The Museum has 20+ learning and play exhibits including the 30ft XXL Twin Climbers and our Edible Schoolyard 1/2 acre learning garden.

• Typically, over 10,000 students come to the Museum on field trips.

• In a typical year, approximately 65% of our revenue comes from admission sales, the other 35% comes from our donors.

This ad made possible by Northwestern Mutual - Robert Hudson

Meaningful investments produce lasting results

United Way of Greater Greensboro creates, connects, and leads community partnerships that equip and empower people to leave poverty.

THANKS TO YOUR GENEROUS SUPPORT, AND THE LONGSTANDING SUPPORT OF MORRISETTE PACKAGING, A FAMILY OWNED COMPANY BASED IN GREENSBORO, NC...

Larry learned to read, landed a job, received a promotion with a raise and is considered a model employee by the company.

Rosalia connected to United Way’s Thriving at 3 program and learned parenting skills to help her son’s development.

Jarvis received support for the critical repairs necessary to keep his house safe, amidst health and financial issues.

End local poverty

Although conscientious efforts are made to provide ac curate and up-to-date information, all events are subject to change and errors can occur! Please verify times, costs, status and location before attending an event.

SUNDAYS

OPEN MIC. 6–9 p.m. Host Bryan Toney welcomes local musicians to share their talents. Free. Oden Brewing Co., 802 West Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: odenbrewing.com/taproom-events.

MONDAYS

TOTAL BODY DANCE. 7–8 p.m. An adult fitness program consisting of cardio dance routines. Free. Lewis Recreation Center, 3110 Forest Lawn Drive, Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov (click on “events”).

WEDNESDAYS

GREENSBORO CHESS CLUB. 6–9 p.m. Enjoy chess on a social and competitive level. Free. Lewis Recreation Center, 3110 Forest Lawn Drive, Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov (click on “events”).

THURSDAYS

JAZZ AT THE O.HENRY. 6–9 p.m. Sip vintage craft cocktails and snack on tapas while the O.Henry Trio performs with a different jazz vocalist each week. Free. O.Henry Hotel Social Lobby, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: ohenryhotel.com/o-henry-jazz.

CYCLING CLUB. 6–8:30 p.m. Cyclists meet up for an easy downtown ride. Free. LeBauer Park, 208 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensborodowntownparks.org/calendar.

01–12

OFRENDA. The Center for Visual Artists hosts Casa Azul’s Dia de Muertos celebra tion featuring an ofrenda exhibition, live events and activities. Free. Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: casaazulgreensboro.org.

02, 09 & 16

ZUMBA IN THE PARK. 5:30–6:30 p.m. Shake and groove in this weekly class led by Velmy Liz Trinidad. Free. LeBauer Park, 208 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensborodowntownparks.org/calendar.

03

NATALIE GRANT. 7:30 p.m. The renowned Christian and gospel singer

performs her most loved songs. Tickets: $26.50+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

TRAVIS TRITT. 7:30 p.m. Country legends Travis Tritt and Chris Janson perform with special guest War Hippies. Tickets: $39.50+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

GIRLS NIGHT. 7 p.m. Think “Desperate Housewives meets Mama Mia!” Bring your friends along to Girls Night: The Musical Tickets: $39+. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/events.

04

ULTIMATE EAGLES TRIBUTE. 8:30 p.m. On the Border performs the songs of the Eagles. Tickets: $25+. Carolina

Sergey

Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

FIRST FRIDAY. 6–9:30 p.m. Head downtown for events at the Greensboro Cultural Center and Greensboro Downtown Parks. 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: downtowngreensboro.org.

THALEA STRING QUARTET. 7:30–9 p.m. Enjoy an evening of diverse musical traditions from around the world. Tickets: $5+. Virginia Somerville Sutton Theatre at Well-Spring, 4100 Well Spring Drive, Greensboro. Info: artsgreensboro.org/events.

GREEN QUEEN BINGO. 7 p.m. Guilford Green welcomes all to a night of bingo, drag and hilarity. Tickets: $12+. Piedmont Hall, 2409 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: guilfordgreenfounda tion.org/ggf-events/green-queen-bingo.

05

SPARTAN JAZZ. 7:30 p.m. UNCG’s Spartan Jazz Collective celebrates the music of Charles Mingus. Tickets: $10+. In the Crown at the Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg. edu/single-event/spartan-jazz-collective.

SERGEY ANTONOV. 8 p.m. The Grammy-nominated cellist plays with the Greensboro Symphony. Tickets: $35+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: greensborosymphony. org/event/sergey-antonov-cello.

PIGSTOCK. 10 a.m.–5 p.m. Greensboro Area Rotary Clubs dish out a barbecue competition plus bluegrass festival to benefit Children of Vietnam. Tickets: $35+; under 12, free. Shooting Star Horse Farm, 5624 Davis Mill Road, Greensboro. Info: pigstockbbq.com.

06.

BIG BAND. 3–5 p.m. Enjoy the swingstyle jazz of The Greensboro Big Band at Creative Greensboro’s Opus Concert Series. Free. Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov (click on “events”).

07

SITKOVETSKY & FRIENDS. 7 p.m. Greensboro Symphony mu sic director and violinist Dimitri Sitkovetsky is joined by cellist Sergey Antonov and pianist Inara Zandmane. Tickets: $35. Tew Recital Hall, 100 McIver St., Greensboro. Info: greensborosymphony.org/event/ rice-toyota-sitkovetsky-friends-chamber-9.

08

DISNEY JUNIOR. 6 p.m. Dress up for Costume Palooza with your favorite Disney Junior characters. Tickets $31+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

HERITAGE OF AMERICA. 7 p.m. In honor of Veteran’s day, the United States Air Force Heritage of America Band performs. Free. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/events.

10–30

VICTORIAN CHRISTMAS. 11 a.m.–4 p.m. Discover holiday traditions of the mid-19th century at the fully decorated Blandwood Mansion. Runs through Jan. 4. Closed on Mondays and holidays. Admission: $7+; students, free. Blandwood Museum, 447 W. Washington St., Greensboro. Info: preservationgreensboro.org/event/ early-victorian-christmas-at-blandwood-6.

10

JAZZ IN THE CROWN. 7:30 p.m. The Miles Davis Jazz Studies Program at UNCG concludes their semester-long retrospective of the music of Charles Mingus. Tickets: $9+. In the Crown at the Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/ single-event/jazz-ensemble-ii-mingus.

LEVITIN & CASH. 7:30 p.m. Guilford College’s Bryan Series pairs Daniel Levitin, neuroscientist and author of This is Your Brain on Music, with Grammy-winning singer-songwriter Rosanna Cash for an enthralling pre -

sentation. Tickets: $50+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

11–13 & 16–19

WILD PARTY. Times vary. UNCG’s School of Theatre brings to life the story of a pair of lovers throwing the party to end all parties, resulting in a violent fit of jealousy. Tickets $5+. Sprinkle Theatre, 402 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/theatre/ performances-and-events/productions.

11 & 13

LA BOHÈME. 7:30 p.m. & 2 p.m. Greensboro Opera brings Puccini’s portrayal of bohemian lifestyle in the mid-nineteenth century to stage. Tickets: $15+. UNCG Auditorium, 408 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: greensboroopera.org/tickets.

11

JOE GATTO. 8 p.m. Comedian Joe Gatto, known for Impractical Jokers and The Misery Index brings a Night of Comedy to the Gate City. Tickets: $35.75+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

ACE HOOD. 8 p.m. Rapper and fitness influencer Ace Hood performs as part of his Protect Your Energy tour. Tickets: $41+. Cone Denim Entertainment Center, 117 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: greensboro.ticketsales.com/ cone-denim-center-tickets/venue.

12–13 & 18–20

OZ. Times vary. The Community Theatre of Greensboro takes you down the yellow brick road to see The Wizard of Oz. Tickets $10+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: ctgso.org/ctg_shows/wizard27/.

12

TAYLOR TOMLINSON. 8 p.m. The Quarter-Life Crisis comedian delivers a show filled with wit and humor. Tickets: $35.75+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

GRUPO FIRME. 8 p.m. It’s “a Mexican party in the U.S.” with the music of the Latin Grammy-winning septet from Tijuana. Tickets: $60.50+. Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: greensborocoliseum.com/events.

PHILHARMONIA. 7:30–9:30 p.m. Creative Greensboro presents its Opus Concert Series, featuring the Philharmonia of Greensboro. Gail Brower Performance Center at Greensboro College, 815 W. Market St., Greensboro. Free. Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov (click on “events”).

OPEN HEARTH. 10 a.m.–4:30 p.m. Costumed interpreters cook a traditional fall harvest meal over an open hearth in the Hoggatt House. Free. 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointnc.gov/2329/Museum.

13

PEPPA PIG. 2 p.m. Go on a live camping adventure with Peppa Pig and friends. Tickets: $25+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

SOMAN CHAINANI. 2 p.m. Before you watch the movie, meet the author of the New York Times bestselling School for Good and Evil series. Free. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St. Greensboro. Info: scuppernongbooks.com/event.

FRIENDSGIVING. 6–9 p.m. Greensboro Downtown Parks annual fundraising event invites you to enjoy cocktails and a catered dinner with community members. Tickets: $150. LeBauer Great Lawn, 208 N. Davie St. Greensboro. Info: greensborodowntownparks.org/calendar.

15

SYMPHONIC BAND. 7:30 p.m. The UNCG Symphonic Band performs, featuring professor of oboe Ashley Barret. Free. UNCG Auditorium, 408 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/single-event/ symphonic-band-ashley-barret-oboe-2.

CARMEN JONES. 7 p.m. Carolina Classics brings the 1955 wartime film starring Harry Belafonte to the big screen. Tickets: $7. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

PAWS & PUBLISHING. 7–8:30 p.m. Author Tammy Billups will join animal lovers via Zoom to share insights on writing, publishing and working with animals. Free. Vance Chavis Branch Library, 900 S. Benbow Road, Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov (click on “events”).

16

ALTON BROWN. 7:30 p.m. Go Beyond the Eats, holiday style, with the iconic Food Network personality. Tickets: $35+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

MERRY MERRY MARKET. 9 a.m.–8 p.m. Shop a holiday boutique of more than 60 vendors selling handmade goods. Tickets: $5. Revolution Mill Events Center, 900 Revolution Mill Drive, Greensboro. Info: merrymerrymarketgso.com.

CITY LAKE PARK. 11 a.m. High Point Historical Society discusses the history and future of the park. Free. City Lake Park, 602 W. Main St., Jamestown. Info: highpointnc.gov/2329/Museum.

17–23 & 25–30

WINTER WONDERLIGHTS. 5:30–10 p.m. Greensboro Science Center’s holiday light display opens for the season. Tickets: $16+; under 3, free. Greensboro Science Center, 4301 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: greensboroscience.org/ winterwonderlights.

17

WIND ENSEMBLE. 7:30 p.m. Assistant professor of clarinet Andy Hudson plays with the UNCG Wind Ensemble. Free. UNCG Auditorium, 408 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/single-event/ wind-ensemble-andy-hudson-clarinet.

COOKED. 5:30 p.m. The UNCG Sustainability Film and Discussion

Series presents Cooked, a film about the worst heat disaster in U.S. History. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/calendar.

THE ILLUSIONISTS. 8 p.m. The Illusionists’ Magic of the Holidays dazzles with astonishing acts. Tickets: $36+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

NU-BLU. 7:30 p.m. The North Carolinabased band delivers an acoustic concert of ballads and upbeat tunes. Tickets: $14+. In the Crown at the Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

CONFEDERATE RAILROAD. 7 p.m. Enjoy a night of country music from a 30-year repertoire of songs. Tickets: $35+. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/events.

UNCG BAND. 7:30 p.m. Professor Abigail Pack plays the horn with UNCG’s University Band. Free. UNCG Auditorium, 408 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/single-event/ university-band-abigail-pack-horn.

BLUE JEANS & PEARLS GALA. 6–11 p.m. Carolina Adoption Services hosts its fundraising gala featuring special guests Jordan and Lynn Moore Rhodes. Tickets: $125. Grandover Resort, 1000 Club Road, Greensboro. Info: gala.childrensadoptionservices.org.

MICHAEL FEINSTEIN. 8 p.m. Along with the Greensboro Symphony, the leg endary singer and musician pays tribute to Judy Garland in honor of her 100th birthday. Tickets: $35+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: greensborosymphony.org/event/ michael-feinstein.

ATIF ASLAM. 7 p.m. The Pakistani singer-songwriter belts out his Bollywood

O.Henry

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

hits. Tickets: $49+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

BLACK VIOLIN. 7:30 p.m. Hard-hitting beats merge with whimsical string melodies in Black Violin’s Give Thanks Holiday Tour. Tickets: $40+. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/events.

MANNHEIM STEAMROLLER. 7:30 p.m. Composer Chip Davis leads Mannheim Steamroller in a night of holiday classics. Tickets: $35+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

LOS ÁNGELES AZULES. 8 p.m. This Mexican group blends the sounds of 1950-70s Colombian cumbia with ‘90sstyle electronic music. Tickets: $59.50+. Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: greensborocoliseum.com/events.

GRATEFUL 8 p.m. Give thanks for live music from Jam Cooperative, a Grateful Dead Experience. No cover. Ziggys.Space, 1547 W. English Road, High Point. Info: ziggys.space/events.

MARTINA MCBRIDE. The legend ary country songstress kicks off The Joy of Christmas Tour. Tickets: $39+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

BERRY CHRISTMAS. Legendary country artist John Berry sings the holiday hits. Tickets: $35+. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/events.

GOODIE DRUMSTICK. 10 a.m.–2 p.m. Stuff a paper turkey drumstick full of goodies. Free. All ages welcome. Little Red Schoolhouse at the High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointnc.gov/2329/Museum.

27

DIRTY DANCING. 7 p.m. Have the time of your life at the classic film’s first movieto-concert experience featuring a live band and singers. Tickets: $45+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

ROME & DUDDY. 8 p.m. Former Sublime and Dirty Heads members formed this duo that plays feel-good music the world needs. Tickets: $57+. Cone Denim Entertainment Center, 117 S. Elm St., Greensboro.Info: greensboro.ticketsales.com/cone-denim-center-tickets/venue.

MOTOWN CHRISTMAS. 8 p.m. Enjoy classic Motown hits, plus holiday tunes, performed by an ensemble featuring members of The Temptations, The Miracles and The Capitols. Tickets: $44+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

30

HANDEL’S MESSIAH. 7–9 p.m. The Choral Society of Greensboro performs its annual classic as part of Creative Greensboro’s Opus Concert Series. Free. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov (click on “events”). OH

To

by the first of the

ONE MONTH PRIOR TO THE EVENT.

Tom Arevian Burkely Rental Homes

Arts

GreenScene

Guilford Native American

Tiny Tot Dancer, Sky LawrenceLoretta Maynor, Neveah Hall, Alisha Cordell, Nina Martinez

Cristian Martínez, Nevaeh Hall

Cheyenne Daniel (Haliwa-Saponi), Cathy Ammons, Mahlea Hunt (Miss Lumbee 2022)

Mahlea Hunt (Miss Lumbee 2022)

N’si Locklear, Emma and Nevaeh Caulder

Carrie Lewis-Holcomb

Douglass Logan

O.Henry ending

Call me when you get there

A mother’s mantra leaves tire tracks on the heart

By Cynthia a dams

I confess to missing it — something that once made my eyes roll into my head. Mama’s constant comment upon parting: “Call me when you get there.”

Mama first started when I was a new driver at 16, chugging to high school in a periwinkle blue Corvair — named Perry, of course. Perry was aging badly; he had a leak in the oil pan.

The Corvair was the infamous unsafe-at-any-speed car that made Ralph Nader a household name. Perry expired too soon, after consuming lethal quantities of oil that puddled in the high school parking lot.

Actually, Mama’s request seemed very reasonable in retrospect, given Nader’s view that the car was prone to spinning around in the middle of the road with a steering wheel shaft likely to impale drivers in a crash.

Two years later, heading off to college in a second-hand British racing-green Austin Healy Sprite, it was questionable if Perry’s replacement was any safer. The tiny convertible was darling and nimble, but so lightweight that passing semis blew me like a leaf.

Mama’s view that my driving was unsafe at any speed didn’t help things.

Time trudged onward, yet there was no aging out of Mama’s cautious farewells. She repeated the “call me when you get there” just as urgently when I was 24 and drove a caution-flag-yellow Honda Civic — which no one with working eyes could possibly miss.

Mama repeated the same thing when I reached 30 and was driving a fast BMW 3 Series, newly single and facing the open road.

She knew there were plenty of potholes that could potentially swallow up my naive self.

When I headed into a new marriage, Mama still repeated the old saw upon each parting, even though I had graduated to a safe, staid Volvo.

Her admonition remained a given, even when I reached

age 40. Pulling away from her in a third-hand diesel Mercedes, her hand flapped at me as I watched her mouth ing the words. That car alone was definitely too heavy for the semis to whipsaw around on I-85.

The safety of the car, the situation, nor my age, mattered not at all to her. I was to call. When. There.

Easing my Honda Accord out of Presbyterian Hospital’s parking deck four years later, I left Mama scared and freshly scarred, recovering from heart surgery. Her standard words, raspingly delivered, rang in my head as I ached for her; call me when you get there.

A newlywed at 75, Mama stood with a bouquet, waving us off, comically urging us to call when we got there. We were flying home. She was hitting the high seas to honeymoon.

The cruise ship bearing her and her sweetfaced groom, Jim, age 81, pulled up anchor and departed Miami.

Eleven years later with Jim’s passing, we moved her to an adult community in Cornelius. Here she stood at the door, leaning on a walker, ever watchful each time I pulled away in my Honda hybrid.

Dark eyes burned brightly in Mama’s pale, thin face.

Once, I noticed her lips moving, so I circled back. She repeated hoarsely, “Call me when you get there,” wanly waving and blowing a kiss.

On another evening, the walker stood at her bedside.

Mama’s lids were heavy. The effort of speech and wakefulness too much. For the first — and only — time, I left to silence.

Making my way due north on I-77, I heard the echoes of the worn phrase, one she used with all five of her charges, plus her grandchildren, her great-grandchildren and, now, too, her caregivers.

Silence tugged at me, weighing heavily, as I navigated the darkness.

This time, it was she who was leaving.

My tires slapped the tarmac in a lulling rhythm: Call me/ when you/ get there. OH

Cynthia Adams is a contributing editor of O.Henry magazine.

BY HARRY BLAIR