One of Old Irving Park’s most incredible properties overlooking Greensboro County Club golf course.
Katie L. Redhead
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We’re committed to safety. Don’t delay your care. The doctors and caregivers of Cone Health encourage you to not let coronavirus prevent you from receiving the care you need, or from scheduling appointments, surgeries and procedures. All Cone Health physician offices and facilities are strictly following the recommendations from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, as well as other clinical experts. To learn more, call your doctor or visit conehealth.com.
Separate facility for COVID-19 care Masking everyone Social distancing Screening everyone Testing all hospitalized & scheduled surgery patients Enhanced cleaning & hand washing
HILLTOP GETAWAY IN OLD IRVING PARK A one-of-a-kind setting high above the 5th fairway of the Greensboro Country Club course, the view is panoramic yet cozy at the same time. Taking it all in from outdoors on the veranda or screened porch or from inside from the great room’s giant windows that continue into the open kitchen and breakfast room, or from the spacious main-level master suite, the view is irresistible. Built in 1998, this classic brick home is designed for the modern family, casual living and entertaining. All four upstairs bedrooms, most with walk-in closets, have their own baths. The giant room over the garage makes a great out-of-the-way student study, exercise and play space. Back downstairs, the well appointed study is scaled to accommodate a baby grand piano and the dining room a ten-seat dinning table comfortably. Strolling around this beautiful home feels natural and invites returning to spots that become instant favorites.
$1,295,000
Chesnutt - Tisdale Team Xan Tisdale Kay Chesnutt 336-601-2337 336-202-9687 Xan.Tisdale@bhhsyostandlittle.com Kay.Chesnutt@bhhsyostandlittle.com
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Serving Others. Enriching Lives. “ The Triad is full of great people with great stories. That makes it a great place to be a banker. It’s exciting to be part of TowneBank—people who really appreciate the value of friendships, relationships, and community.”
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802 Green Valley Road, Suite 100 (336) 493-7200 | TowneBank.com/Greensboro
Triad artwork by Katie Podracky
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November 2020 FEATURES
DEPARTMENTS
49 Exulansis
13 Simple Life
Poetry by Debra Kaufman
50 Earning His Wings
By Billy Ingram Joe Bemis’ High Flying World War II Recreations
62 Homemade with Love
Four home goods makers share their pure and simple joy.
66 A Case of Holiday Kismet
By Cynthia Adams For Marc and Mary Powell Young DeLille, High Point’s historic Wilson House was nearly theirs before they saw it
By Jim Dodson
16 Short Stories 17 Doodad By Maria Johnson 19 The Nature of Things By Ashley Wahl
23 Life’s Funny
By Maria Johnson
27 The Omnivorous Reader By Stephen E. Smith
31 Scuppernong Bookshelf 35 Home by Design By Cynthia Adams
38 Food for Thought By Bridgette A. Lacy
40 Weekend Away
By Jason Oliver Nixon
43 Birdwatch
By Susan Campbell
45 Wandering Billy By Billy Eye
96 O.Henry Ending By Ruth Moose
75 Almanac
By Ashley Wahl
Cover photograph by Bert VanderVeen 6 O.Henry
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Fine Eyewear by Appointment 327 South Elm | Greensboro 336.274.1278 | TheViewOnElm.com Becky Causey, Licensed Optician
409-A Parkway Avenue • Greensboro, NC 27401 Gary Jobe • 336-272-2772 • 336-549-1146
For Sale by Gary Jobe, Owner/Broker Personal Residence • 335-549-1146
$1,350,000
8 LOCH RIDGE DRIVE
M A G A Z I N E
Volume 10, No. 11 “I have a fancy that every city has a voice.” 336.617.0090 1848 Banking Street, Greensboro, NC 27408 www.ohenrymag.com PUBLISHER
David Woronoff Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director andie@thepilot.com Ashley Wahl, Editor awahl@ohenrymag.com Lauren M. Coffey, Associate Art Director Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer CONTRIBUTING EDITORS
Jim Dodson, Founding Editor Cynthia Adams, David Claude Bailey, Harry Blair, Maria Johnson CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS
Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Sam Froelich, John Gessner, Bert VanderVeen, Mark Wagoner CONTRIBUTORS
Tom Bryant, Susan Campbell, Wiley Cash, Tony Cross, Billy Eye, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Sara King, Brian Lampkin, Meridith Martens, D.G. Martin, Jason Oliver Nixon, Ogi Overman, Todd Pusser, Stephen E. Smith
Here for you In these unprecedented times, it is important that you know we’re committed to providing you the financial access, guidance, and support you need during this rapidly evolving situation. Through digital, mobile, and by phone, Wells Fargo Advisors is here, and we continue to serve you and support our communities so that you can focus on what matters most — caring for your family’s health and safety.
Helping you focus on what matters most
Private Client Group Alex Sigmon
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Branch Manager 806 Green Valley Rd. Greensboro, NC 27408 Phone: 336-545-7100
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10 O.Henry
MAY Lose Value
Jack Andrews, Frank Daniels Jr., Frank Daniels III, Lee Dirks, David Woronoff © Copyright 2020. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. O.Henry Magazine is published by The Pilot LLC
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
g n i t a r b Ce le We’re
Our 5th Anniversary
On Facebook Live!
Join us for a Live Facebook Event Friday, November 6. Enjoy several hours filled with facts, fun, and fabulous giveaways. Restoration MedSpa is not only celebrating another year as the premier practice in the Triad for noninvasive cosmetic treatments, we’ll be streaming from our brand new 2nd location at Revolution Mill in Greensboro. We’re offering discounts on ALL products and services throughout the entire month of November.
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Simple Life
A Country Made of Clouds Awakening the dreamer is as simple as slowing down and looking up
By Jim Dodson
Not long ago, an old friend named
Macduff Everton sent me a gift that reminded me to look up and take heart.
It was a stunning picture of clouds passing over a clubhouse at Smith Mountain Lake, Va., taken in late August of this year. Set against a dark, rainy sky, a line of bright white clouds that resembled the curling tops of ocean waves tumbled over the horizon, a remarkable cloud formation caused by shearing winds. Macduff happens to be one of the world’s most honored landscape photographers, an artist whose work hangs in numerous museums around the world. Art critics have compared him to Ansel Adams for his soulful eye and brilliant portraits of nature, landscape and people. Years ago, we traveled the world in each other’s company, photographing and writing about people and places from Ireland to New Zealand. Along with his wife, Mary, an internationally known artist in her own right, we once spent two weeks working in Cuba while Mary lectured at an art school in Havana. His photos from our fortnight on the forbidden island 25 years ago are some of the most soulful and revealing photos you’ve ever laid eyes on. The amazing photo of clouds at Smith Mountain Lake, a rare formation technically known as a Kelvin-Helmholtz fluctus cloud, however, wasn’t a Macduff Everton jewel. It was a simple photograph taken by Amy Hunter, member 50,322 of something called the Cloud Appreciation Society. Macduff knew I would find it fascinating, which explains why his email featured the Society’s “Cloud of the Day” photograph along with a link to the organization’s website. I clicked on it and spent a dreamy hour looking at a spectacular array of photographs and paintings of clouds posted by the society’s tens of thousands of members across 100 nations around the world, people who find comfort and inspiration in looking up at clouds. I also watched a TED Talk by the society’s founder, Gavin Pretor-Pinney. His purpose in founding the Cloud Appreciation Society was to
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
simply remind people of the value of looking up at the Earth’s most ephemeral live artwork. “Clouds are so commonplace, so beautiful, people don’t even notice them unless they get in the way of the sun,” Pretor-Pinney told his TED audience, adding that Aristophanes, the Greek playwright, described passing clouds as “the goddesses of idle fellows” and believed they were, on the contrary, a boon to human imagination. “Most people will admit to a nostalgic fondness for clouds that reminds them of their youth, finding shapes in the sky when we were masters of daydreams,” he said, pointing out that the digital world we live in today conspires to make us terminally too busy to pause and look up. The point of cloud-spotting, as he calls it, is simply to slow down life’s swirling pace and observe the ever-changing beauty that is right above you, the perfect everyday meditation. “I think if you live with your head in the clouds it will help you keep your feet on the ground,” he says. The society’s manifesto is a gem. WE BELIEVE that clouds are unjustly maligned and that life would be immeasurably poorer without them. We think that they are Nature’s poetry, and the most egalitarian of her displays, since everyone can have a fantastic view of them. We pledge to fight “blue-sky thinking” wherever we find it. Life would be dull if we had to look up at cloudless monotony day after day. We seek to remind people that clouds are expressions of the atmosphere’s moods and can be read like those of a person’s countenance. We believe that clouds are for dreamers and their contemplation benefits the soul. Indeed, all who consider the shapes they see in them will save money on psychoanalysis bills. And so we say to all who’ll listen: Look up, marvel at the ephemeral beauty, and always remember to live life with your head in the clouds! In a year under assault by a killer pandemic, a world suffering from a collapsed economy and a death rate spiraling ever upward, not to mention a presidential election that will offer either a ray of hope or more hopeless chaos, looking up at clouds suddenly struck O.Henry 13
Simple Life
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14 O.Henry
me a very sensible thing to do. I signed up right away and within days received my official Cloud Appreciation Society Certificate of Membership, newly minted member number 52,509, plus a nifty “Cloud Selector” designed to help a rookie cloud spotter identify the ephemeral art forever passing overhead. It felt like 1957 all over. That year, as a dreamy four-year-old who lived in a house directly across the street from the Gulf of Mexico in Mississippi, I became obsessed with storm clouds over the ocean thanks to a man named Big Earl who ran the printing press at my father’s weekly newspaper in Gulfport. Big Earl informed me that we lived “smack dab in the middle of Hurricane Alley.” With a kind of ghoulish enthusiasm, he suggested that I keep a sharp eye on storm clouds over the Gulf because they would indicate when a major hurricane was headed our way. His warning prompted me to write off for an official Hurricane Preparation Kit offered, as I recall, by the National Geographic Society, just to be ready for the big blow. Every day I watched the clouds over the Gulf. But no hurricane ever came. Plenty of bone-rattling thunderstorms did, however, which caused the Gulf to cough up spectacular sea shells for my mom and me to collect on our evening walks. We often sat at the end of the dune boardwalk watching the changing skies over the water — a gorgeous light show of pleated pinks and purples — picking out shapes that looked like faces or animals in the sky. That autumn, we moved home to Carolina. By then, I was hooked on skywatching. On my first trip to England in 1977, arriving as dawn broke over the continent, my plane dropped through a thick soup of clouds that always seem to blanket the Blessed Isles when suddenly, just below, a magical green world of hedgerows and winding lanes appeared, a storybook village with a Norman church tower and a herd of sheep on the hill. I was utterly awestruck. Those clouds were a curtain to enchantment. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Simple Life From that point forward, whenever work duties placed me in the sky — which was often in those days — I loved flying through and above clouds, watching moving continents of white stretching away to eternity below the wings of the airplane, a visually majestic kingdom where light and weather forever danced together. I came to think of that peaceful, otherworldly place as a “country made of clouds.” Several years ago, in fact, I even began writing a novel with that notion in its title, a project that recently morphed into a screenplay about a troupe of pioneering female pilots after World War II that my daughter Maggie — the real writer in the family — is working on, with a little help from her cloud-loving old man. Here’s a key scene from my unfinished novel, A Country Made of Clouds, in which the protagonist, a famous aviatrix and women’s activist named Dodo Barnes, takes her young son up for his first ride in her old barnstorming biplane for a sunset flight over the Outer Banks. He’s a wispy little kid, not unlike I was in 1957. Dodo speaks into his ear as he perches on her lap, awestruck by the beauty of the shapes in clouds he sees below them. “You know, Hawk,” says Dodo, “I find such happiness up here. It’s like a beautiful country made of clouds, a place where there are no wars, no turmoil, no sadness of any kind, only endless light and peaceful clouds you could almost walk on to forever. I sometimes think this must be what the way to heaven looks like.” Somewhere during our many journeys together, I must have told my buddy Macduff Everton about this novel, describing a scene that was inspired by my mother’s own words as we sat on the dunes long ago watching clouds over the Gulf of Mexico. Or maybe he just sensed that I would find the Cloud Appreciation Society a timely reminder of my days as a master of daydreams, the perfect antidote to a world turned upside down. Whichever it is, society member 52,509 is thrilled to look up and put his head in the clouds. OH Contact founding editor Jim Dodson at jim@thepilot.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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O.Henry 15
Short Stories
*Given the unusual circumstances currently facing all events and their organizations, anyone planning to attend any program, gathering or competition should check in advance to make certain it will happen as scheduled.
KATY MIXON, WILDFIRE, 2019, CARVED OIL ON PANEL
Real Talk
Sauce of the Month
Have you seen GreenHill’s current exhibit? All women. All abstract artists from across the state. All worthy of starting a conversation about. And on Thursday, November 5 — the penultimate day of the exhibit — North Carolina Museum of Art’s executive director Valerie Hillings will start a conversation, right here at the GreenHill gallery at noon. Her one-hour presentation, “Multiple Perspectives,” will offer fresh insights and a new vision for museum collecting in North Carolina. Real talk: the times demand it. NC Women Abstract Painters is GreenHill’s first exhibit in 30 years dedicated exclusively to women. Don’t miss the chance to see it and hear Hillings, who, prior to landing at NCMA in 2018, curated more than 15 exhibitions on four continents during her tenure at the Guggenheim. Join the conversation in person or via Zoom: www.greenhillnc.org/valerie-hillings
In March, we reviewed Bill Howland’s South Carolinainspired “Slapp-it-on” Mustard IPA BBQ Sauce — sassy with hoppy IPA, smoky chipotle peppers and mustard. The Kayser-Roth veteran now at the Center for Creative Leadership explained that he’d turned to mustard when he wasn’t able to concoct his ideal of a ketchup-based sauce. Now he’s “ketching up” (so to speak) with his Gate City Red IPA BBQ Sauce. Unabashedly sweet, his new concoction is aromatic with a hint of curry. Cider vinegar and chipotles smoldering in adobo sauce balance the ketchup’s sugar. Look for a sweet-and-sour yin and yang that will keep you coming back for just one more dollop. Available at the Extra Ingredient and other outlets as far flung as South Carolina and Virginia. Info: billysslappnsauce.com
The Inside Scoop
That’s right. The Greensboro Farmers Curb Market is back inside at 501 Yanceyville Street — with new Saturday fall hours, 8 a.m. to noon. Upfitted with handwashing stations and wayfinding signs, the Market building meets state mandates and CDC recommendations with ample space between vendors and improved air circulation. Or there’s always drive-through and curbside pickup on Saturdays or on Wednesdays through November 18. (Indoor shopping is not available on Wednesdays except for a special pre-Thanksgiving extravaganza from 8 a.m. until noon). So go online (gsofarmersmarket. org) to preorder your root vegetables and mushroom jerky. And if you happen to be on the pumpkin spice-everything train, don’t miss GFCM’s Harvest Pancake Breakfast Fundraiser on November 7 — to go. Order online and scarf down either pumpkin-spice or apple cinnamon pancakes — you choose — made by Alex and Tim Amoroso of Cheesecakes by Alex, $10. Add a Neese’s Country Sausage patty ($2) to your cart and call it brunch.
16 O.Henry
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Doodad
The Christmas Spirit
Scorpio Season: This Might Sting A Little
If you haven’t at least a healthy dose of fear of those born under Scorpio, the eighth astrological sign of the zodiac, consider that its symbol is, in fact, a scorpion. As in the predatory arachnid with murderous pincers and a tail punctuated by a venomous barb. But dive deeper into the shadowy depths of this emotional water sign and you will find a highly sensitive and intuitive being who is often the most loyal and compassionate of friends — even if they can hold a grudge for the better part of eternity. Ruled by Pluto (god of the underworld) and Mars (god of war), it’s no wonder Scorpios are portrayed as the Kali Ma of the zodiac — the dark mother who kills demons in the name of love and freedom and dances on corpses, tongue wagging like some kind of wild beast. In other words: they’re misunderstood. But their mystery is part of their charm and their eyes, you will notice, are utterly hypnotic. This month, Mercury enters Scorpio on November 10. Translation: watch your mouth. And while Scorpios have a habit of internalizing, keep in mind, you’re only poisoning yourself. The new moon in Scorpio on November 15 is all about intense beginnings. But what about this year hasn’t been? If anyone is equipped to handle these turbulent times, surely it’s the fearlessly curious Scorpio. They hold the venom, yes. But they also hold the salve.
Fitness is part of it, but there’s more to the story
Late in the afternoon, the autumn sun sprays
orange kisses and blue shadows all around the oceanic parking lot at Greensboro’s Jaycee Park. Along one asphalt shoreline, personal fitness trainer Jamie Christmas — yes, that’s his real name, and yes, his business really is called Body by XMAS — is ready to go.
The tools of his trade lie on the leaf-littered pavement beside his silvery SUV: yoga mats, dumbbells, jump rope and BOSU, a half-ball used for balance exercises. “We’re gonna do single-leg RDLs on the BOSU,” he directs 51-year-old Laurie Preslan, a longtime client who has been doing squats while standing on the platform side of the half-ball. Now, Christmas, who’s also 51, wants her to add some dumbbells, balance on one leg, extend the other leg back and pivot at the hips, not unlike a “drinking bird” toy. Preslan, ponytailed for the workout, stares at him from underneath dark bangs. “This leg ain’t comin’ up,” says the elementary school teacher, tapping a thigh. “Then step off,” he says calmly. She begins a set of one-legged Romanian deadlifts on the blacktop. Before COVID, Christmas, a competitive bodybuilder and former tailback and sprinter at the University of Virginia, trained a few of his private clients outdoors, but he coached the bulk of his customers at Strive, a gym where he is employed. Then came the virus. Gyms shuttered, and Christmas’ most ardent gym-based clientele, along with his sweat-or-die freelance customers, followed him outside, where fresh air and social distance were plentiful. He wasn’t alone. From Zumba leaders to yoga teachers, other trainers embraced the great outdoors. Some of them have rooted there, despite partial re-openings. “Since COVID, I’ve come to train about 15 people that I’d never met,” Christmas says, confirming the marketing impact of push-ups done in public. His freelance business, which is more lucrative than the gym-based work, has bulked up considerably, thanks to passers-by. As a parade of dog-walkers, cyclists, walkers and joggers stream past, Christmas calls out to acquaintances. Strangers rubberneck to study his breathless clients. Fifty-four-year-old Anita McCoy, a former gym regular, used to be one of those curious onlookers. Now, she spends 30 minutes a week knocking out super sets with Christmas. “I’m moving better. I feel better,” says the computer systems expert. Her plans for winter? “Put on a hat and keep rolling.” The gains aren’t all physical. McCoy and Preslan talk about noticing deer and owls and changing seasons in the park. They talk about seeing other people in person — “Most of the people outside are happy,” notes Preslan. “Sometimes, it’s like a therapy session,” says Christmas. “Not only do I uplift my clients; they uplift me, too. This has been a good time for people to talk.” OH Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 17
Historic Old Irving Park and the Greensboro Country Club
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The Nature of Things
On Coming Full Circle A writer and an artist collide in perfect, cosmic time
By Ashley Wahl
“Nothing happens by coincidence.”
Oprah might have said that. You may have read it in a Paulo Coelho novel. Cracked open a fortune cookie and found it there. In any case, you’ve heard some variation of this quote somewhere. And then something happens to you — an experience so utterly serendipitous and strange that you wonder if it’s true, and if there isn’t some sort of cosmic force at play; some sleight of hand that gently manipulates collisions in space and time. This is a story like that. It begins in 2012 when I was 25 years old and had just landed what would be my first cover story for O.Henry. The magazine had just survived its first year in Greensboro. The cover story was about the Sternberger Artists Center, an Italian palazzo on Summit Avenue that, at the time of its construction circa 1926, was considered to be one of the grandest homes in the city. I interviewed Jeanne Tannenbaum, the great-niece of textile tycoon Sigmund Sternberger, plus a handful of emerging and established artists who rented studios there after the Tannenbaum-Sternberger Foundation donated the house to the United Arts Council of Greensboro in 1972. I did not interview batik painter Henry E. Sumpter. I tried. But he did not want to be bothered from his work. The story ran in September. Some of you may know that I relocated from Greensboro to Wilmington in 2013 to help launch O.Henry’s sister magazine, Salt. And in 2016, I moved to the North Carolina mountains, a soul calling that I still can not put into words. Now, flash forward to September, 2020 — eight years and a slew of
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
adventures after my cover story appeared in print. I’d just landed back at O.Henry to accept my new role as editor when, no kidding, I got an email from Henry E. Sumpter. The email wasn’t addressed to me. How could Henry have known it was my second day behind the desk? And yet within this letter to the editor, the artist explained that he “politely rejected” the opportunity to be interviewed “some years ago” for many reasons — namely that the time wasn’t right — and said he was finally ready to open his studio door. “At the time I was spending up to ten years and over 9,000 hours on certain works and did not want to be disturbed,” he wrote. “I now wish I had taken the offer.” I cannot express what a delight it was to receive this note from Henry E. Sumpter. It felt like a signal from the universe that we were both in the right place at the right time. Or at the very least, it was a superb coincidence. And so I clicked on the link to his artwork. I gasped. And a week later, I am back at the Sternberger Artists Center, where Henry has rented space for 38 years. It’s a rainy Friday morning. Henry is outside feeding two of the four feral cats he has named. They are cream colored. Thomas and Tomás, he tells me. His studio space is in the garage. Inside, large gray wall panels neatly display nearly 20 framed reproductions of his contemporary works, each of which seems to be a colorful, intimate glimpse into the artist’s dreamscape. “People describe my work as ‘Otherworldly,’” says Henry, who is standing in front of a reproduction of a piece called Salem Treasures. The five subjects, all inspired by real people the artist met and studied in Old Salem, are working with the land, you might even say communicating with it. Just behind them is a circle — Henry calls it a O.Henry 19
The Nature of Things “spyglass” — that contains a barn, a church, three hay bales, a stone walkway, several trees, a row of pole beans, and what looks like ancient buried treasure in plain sight. All of this, plus the 250,000 tiny multicolored dots in the background, was done on a massive swath of fabric using fiber reactive dyes, a small paintbrush and hot bees wax applied with a tjanting (pronounced “chanting”) tool. “I don’t know anything about anything,” says the artist, who grew up in Myrtle Beach, SC. “I just let the spirit, or God, what have you, lead me.” But Henry does know a thing or two about batik, an ancient Indonesian art of wax-resist dyeing that predates written records. He discovered the technique in 1964 when an art professor introduced him to world-renowned batik artist Leo Twiggs (also born in SC). And as Henry said, many of his ideas come from dreams. Circles are a reoccurring motif in Henry’s work. And moons. His colors are earthy, joyful, peaceful. Most of his scenes are an amalgam
of the places he has known — High Rock Lake, for instance, paired with a stand of trees from Greensboro’s Bryan Boulevard. Or the flamingos that used to visit Myrtle Beach. He tells me he has no interest in painting “pretty” people. “People are energy,” says the artist. His eyes soften, and there is a peacefulness that becomes almost palpable in the room. “I paint the essence.” Henry is in his mid-70s with a booming voice to match his hefty build. He loves telling stories, often trailing from one to the next before catching himself. He does not move with particular grace or ease, but when he speaks of his artwork, Henry becomes almost childlike, seemingly free from the limitations of body and mind, at least for the present moment. He shows me an original batik painting called Mid-Afternoon Orgy, completed in 1971 when he was a Private First Class in the U.S. Army. Despite its suggestive name, the artwork, which measures 30 x 52 inches, is not overtly sexual. There are ten figures dancing beneath three suns. The style was influenced by cave art. Think of the modern depiction of Kokopelli. That’s the feeling: playful and jubilant.
Looking to buy or sell a home? Kathy believes the best place to live, work and play is in the Triad and is dedicated to providing excellent customer service to her clients. Give her a call and let her prove it to you! 336-339-2000
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20 O.Henry
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
The Nature of Things
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“This is my most Picassoesque piece,” says Henry. It’s priced at $500,000. Truthfully, if Henry had told me that a collector was on her way to pick it up, I would not have been surprised. Henry keeps most of his originals upstairs in the home’s former servants’ quarters. He shows me more from his “Hidden Treasure” series, including a reproduction of Reseeding the Rainforest. There are over 300 trees in this painting — “trees behind trees,” Henry points out. There are green trees and purple trees, rows of sacred trees with “curative powers.” Henry’s son, Adrian (now 41), was in fifth grade when the seed for this painting took root. Adrian was studying the Amazon rainforest at school. “People don’t know what treasures the Earth holds,” says Henry, “They forsake them.” And as he points out the shadows cast in all directions, something clicks. Inside the mind of the artist, there is more than one source of light, more than one way to see. I see Henry’s son, Adrian, in his artwork. I see the essence of his wife. I see the places he’s been. I also see a vision for the planet that is filled with hope. Cosmic forces at play, gently manipulating collisions in space and time. “Every day of my life I see the Earth as being something beautiful and new,” says Henry E. Sumpter. “And it’s getting newer.” OH You can visit Henry E. Sumpter’s virtual gallery at visualdesignsstudio.com. Contact editor Ashley Wahl at awahl@ohenrymag.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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O.Henry 21
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Life's Funny
Plymouth Rock On
This isn’t the first Thanksgiving — but it’s the first one like this
By Maria Johnson
I’ve been thinking a lot about
Pilgrims lately.
I started down this road because my younger son was in Massachusetts recently, and he made a special trip to see Plymouth Rock, which was a “What the . . . ?” moment for him because he found out that Plymouth Rock is really small, as tourist rocks go. I understand the disappointment. Before I saw the historic landmark for the first time, I imagined it would be like the Rock of Gibraltar, a looming outcrop that represented safety and solidity, a sort of “Land ho!” formation. In fact, it looks like the kind of rock the Pilgrims might have stubbed their toes on, or maybe sat on to take a load off because their Pilgrim shoes were killing them. Another reason for my son’s reaction was that a couple of gummy worms were stuck to the rock (see photo). It would be inaccurate to say he was disappointed at this. In fact, it bolstered his faith in human nature. No wonder the Pilgrims thought this rock was special. Imagine their excitement when — after cramming themselves into dank ships, rocking to-and-fro on the high seas, gnawing on hardtack for months — they finally got to experience dry land . . . and gummy worms. All at once. I’d have stayed, too. So there’s that background to explain why I’ve gone Myles
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Standish lately. There’s also the fact that I’ve been wondering how the heck to host Thanksgiving in the age of COVID. It occurred to me that maybe I should take a lesson from the first Thanksgiving, which as we all know from our childhood picture books, occurred outdoors at long tables where the Pilgrims and Native Americans mingled around lots of cornucopia to celebrate a bountiful harvest and converse about topics of the day. Pilgrims: We’re so grateful for your help. Leaving the gummy worms on Plymouth Rock was a special touch, like mints on a pillow. Now, how about a drumstick in exchange for all of your land? Native Americans: Great. May we have another helping of smallpox, too? Ah, Thanksgiving conversations. The point is, they were aerosolizing OUTSIDE, which seems like a good idea for our family this year. We’re expecting six to eight guests, including my elderly mom and some folks who’ve been sharing the air with college students. The idea of renting a small tent flickered through my mind, so last month I called a local party supply company and spoke to a very nice woman who basically said: “HAHAHAHAHA.” Her store couldn’t pitch party tents fast enough. Some of the tents had been rented long-term by hospitals offering drivethrough COVID tests and by restaurants dishing up take-out meals. The tent manufacturers were back-ordered. Ditto with the makers of gas heaters. Her company had even purchased hand sanitizing stations because the demand for them was so great. O.Henry 23
Life's Funny
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24 O.Henry
Hmm. In desperation, I eyed our garage, notable for the fact that after 25 years of living here, we can still fit two cars inside. Still, it’s no glam bay. No epoxy floors, or built-in cabinetry, or drywall interior. We’re talking about exposed studs with bent hooks that hold ladders, bikes, garden tools, golf bags, old skateboards. In other words, a real-deal family space. Might it work if we rolled up the garage doors, propped open a side door and set up a couple of electric fans to promote air circulation? Naturally, we would screen guests as they arrived. They would answer some health questions, then my husband would hold an electric drill near their foreheads and pull the trigger. If they flinched, an indication of normal health, they could proceed. A vision formed. Roast turkey carved with hedge trimmers; a centerpiece of scented candles and hacksaws; sweet potatoes on a bed of Craftsman wrenches. In the event, God forbid, that any of our guests should become sick before Thanksgiving, they’d be welcome to join us via a cardboard cutout (thanks for the idea, Major League Baseball) or via Zoom (appreciate the assist, NBA). For Zoomers, we’d set up a computer monitor at their table and allow for a threesecond lag between our “amen” and theirs; our laughter and theirs; our visible discomfort at bad jokes and theirs. On the subject of politics, no matter who wins the election, the rules would be firm. Any jabs from a Zoomer and we’d mute their square. Should the barbs come from anyone attending in person, I’d dispatch my husband to the workbench with a sheet of plexiglass — yes, we have some of that, too — and the offender soon would be encased. The Garage of Gratitude is sounding better and better. As we all know by now, nothing is off the table this year. OH Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry. She can be reached at ohenrymaria@gmail.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Omnivorous Reader
Siberian Odyssey Exploring the exotic and the desolate
By Stephen E. Smith
“Loss of Travel
Causing Americans to Feel Stress and Anxiety” a recent MSN headline blared. If that’s the case, here’s a possible pandemic-proof cure: The Lost Pianos of Siberia, by Sophy Roberts, a beautifully written travelogue/ social history that will likely transport the reader to heretofore unknown locales. You can’t travel much farther afield than Siberia, the wasteland to which tsarist political prisoners were exiled and in which purged Soviet dissidents disappeared into gulags surrounded by ice, swamps, mosquitoes and intellectual sterility. Much of what the average American knows about Siberia — if he or she knows anything at all — is based on the movie Doctor Zhivago, which wasn’t set in Siberia, or Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, which was, and that’s unfortunate, since Siberia contains an 11th of the world’s land mass, the largest continuous forest, the longest railroad, the biggest lake, the coldest city, and an exotic ethnic mix that’s bewildering even by American standards. So why would a British journalist travel to Siberia to find lost pianos? Roberts isn’t an authority on the evolution of the instrument or a connoisseur of the finer points of piano construction or restoration. She isn’t even an accomplished pianist. Although she never overtly states her motivation, the reader is left with the impression that the book, in addition to being immensely entertaining and informative, is a testament to the power of music in the most adverse circumstances man can conjure. Simply stated, Roberts went looking for lost pianos in the most desolate place on the planet and wrote a book about what she found. The narrative is organized around physical locations, social histories and characters. “The pull of private histories is always present in Siberia,” she writes. “Every face informs the enigmatic texture of a place where legacy of exile lingers, like the smell of incense, or the feeble gleam of traffic lights, with the complexity of Russia’s identity, and the mix of Europe and Asia, evident not just in the jumble of architecture of the Siberian baroque church I stood on top of in a snow-breeze in winter, but in the routes reaching out from every side.” Typical of Roberts’ happier discoveries is the story of Maria
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Volkonskaya. When Maria was forced into exile in the 1850s with her Decembrist husband, she took a clavichord, dragging it on a sledge. Once settled in Irkutsk, one of the largest cities in Siberia, she opened a hospital and concert hall, where recitals became a social force in the region. Roberts visits Maria’s home, now a museum, and discovers a pyramid piano shaped like a concert piano turned up against the wall (the original clavichord had long since disappeared into history) and a Lichtenthal owned by Maria. When played the Lichtenthal “behaved awkwardly,” but the muffled notes lift Roberts into lyricism: “The keys were sticky, like an old typewriter gluey with ink. He struck the keys until the softened notes — muted by layers of dust, perhaps, or felt that had swollen in the damp — started to appear. At first the sound was reed-thin, no louder than the flick of a fingernail on a bell. Inside the piano, the amber wood still gleamed, the strings’ fragile tensions held in place by tiny twists around the heads of golden, round-headed tuning pins.” Chapter 8, “The Last Tsar’s Piano: The Urals,” is a predictable rehashing of the Russian Revolution and the transport of the Romanovs to Ekaterinburg. The Tsarina played the piano, an ebony instrument, perhaps a Russian made Schröder, which disappeared along with the Romanovs and the Ipatiev House in which they were executed. Ironically, the body of Rasputin, the Tsarina’s personal mystic, was disinterred, stuffed into an old piano and burned. Maxim Gorky, who knew something about suffering, wrote of the “genuine horrors” of everyday life in his native Russia, and certainly there are examples aplenty in Roberts’ telling. While visiting Kiakhta, a city located on the Russian-Mongolian border, she describes gruesome deaths by bayonet during the tsarist and Soviet eras. Prisoners were poisoned and shoved alive into bakers’ ovens. Many exiles were sprayed with water and frozen to death so as not to waste bullets. Near Tomsk, one of the oldest cities in Siberia, she hears stories of a family of “Old Believers,” examples of Slavic civilization before the introduction of Westernizing reforms in the 18th century, who had retreated so far into the snowy taiga of the western Sayan Mountains that they lived in complete isolation until discovered in the late 1970s. They knew nothing of Stalin and the moon landings, which they didn’t believe anyway, and thought cellophane was crumpled glass. O.Henry 27
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“Roots grow strong in Greensboro, and so do families. I was born and raised here in the same house that my mother grew up in. After graduating from college in Texas, I headed west to Los Angeles, but I always knew Greensboro was home. I moved back to NC and wound up marrying a cute boy from high school and we couldn’t be happier to raise our children in this warm, close-knit community. I hope to share my deep knowledge and appreciation of my hometown to help others understand what it is that makes Greensboro so special.” When it comes to selling your home, no one in the Greensboro area does it better than Craig and the team at TR&M. Local experts, global reach. Call 336.274.1717 or visit trmhomes.com today.
28 O.Henry
In describing Sakhalin Island near Aleksandrovsk in the North Pacific Ocean, she quotes Chekhov: “A dreadful, hideous place, wretched in every respect, in which only saints or profoundly perverse people could live of their own free will.” Vlas Doroshevick, one of Russia’s most popular and widely read journalists of the 20th century, described Sakhalin as “perhaps the most foul hole as exists on earth.” On the Yamal Peninsula, Roberts observed abandoned “skeletons of iron, diggers, lorries, and drilling machines stuck in hollows of land from Yamal’s vast natural gas fields” — a desolate place that “felt close to the start of time.” The forsaken landscape of Kolyma “felt like the saddest place on the planet.” And so it goes: the Altai Mountains, Harbin, Novosibirsk, Akademgorodok, Kamchatka, Khabarovsk, etc. — place names so foreign they’re almost unpronounceable. Roberts spent two years wandering the inhospitable wilderness of Siberia, and her powers of description bring those locales and their histories to life. There may have been pianos yet undiscovered, but Russian authorities eventually became suspicious of her “lost pianos” rationale, and she was ordered out of the country. Riding to the airport, she studied the texture of the skull of a man sitting in front of her. It was “like a brain exposed. The image stayed with me, along with the sight of a handgun in our driver’s glove compartment, the swelling in the land from mass graves, and the statues of Lenin in Kadykchan with half his face shot away.” There are disturbing, indelible images in The Lost Pianos of Siberia, visions of what Gorky called the “grotesquely terrible.” But there are also touches of humor and occasional moments of beauty. If Roberts’ descriptions of Siberia don’t magically cure the stress and anxiety of living in pandemic America, thoughtful readers might well find they sleep a little more soundly. 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 Brockman Prize for poetry and four North Carolina Press Awards The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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30 O.Henry
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Scuppernong Bookshelf
The Future is Bright Let us imagine so — for the sake of our children at least
Compiled by Brian L ampkin
Can we look forward? As I
write this in October I want to imagine November. A November with a Thanksgiving for friends and family. A November with a normal, peaceful transition of power. And a November where we can think about what our children will need in the future. They’ll need books, for certain. As you begin to think about holiday gift-giving, here’s our annual list of November’s best new children’s books. May they all be received in peace with optimism for a bright future for democracy for our children.
Where Is Our Library?: A Story of Patience and Fortitude, by Josh Funk and Stevie Lewis (Henry Holt & Co., $18.99). The two iconic lions, curious Patience and steadfast Fortitude, wait every morning to greet visitors of the New York Public Library — and slip away every night to read in the Children’s Center. But one day, Patience and Fortitude find the Children’s Center empty! The two lions set out into the city to locate their missing books and encounter some literary landmarks along the way. Josh Funk’s clever rhymes and Stevie Lewis’ vibrant art take young readers into the heart of New York City in this latest adventure. I Am the Storm, by Jane Yolen and Heidi E. Y. Stemple (Rise x Penguin Workshop, $17.99). Jane Yolen has just published her 380th book! Much of her oeuvre focuses on nature, such as the Caldecott winner Owl Moon (in its 80th printing) and a series of picture books on birds with the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. In the face of our shifting climate, young The Art & Soul of Greensboro
children everywhere are finding themselves subject to unfamiliar and often frightening extreme weather. Yolen and her daughter, Heidi Stemple, address four distinct weather emergencies (a tornado, a blizzard, a forest fire and a hurricane) with warm family stories of finding the joy in preparedness and resilience. Their honest reassurance leaves readers with this message: Nature is powerful, but you are powerful, too. Illustrated in rich environmental tones and featuring additional information about storms in the back, this book educates, comforts and empowers young readers in stormy or sunny weather — and all the weather in between. The All-Together Quilt, by Lizzy Rockwell (Knopf Books for Young Readers, $17.99). The kids and grown-ups at a community center begin with lots of colorful fabrics and an idea. Then step-by-step they make that idea a reality. They design, cut, stitch, layer and quilt. It’s the work of many hands, many hours and many stories. And the result is something warm and wonderful they all can share. Lizzy Rockwell is the artistic director and organizing force behind The Norwalk Community Quilt Project: Peace by Piece, and this book is inspired by all the people who have gathered over the years to teach and learn and to make something beautiful together. The Couch Potato, by Jory John (HarperCollins, $18.99). The Couch Potato has everything he needs within reach of his sunken couch cushion. But when the electricity goes out, Couch Potato is forced to peel himself away from the comforts of his living room and venture outside. And when he does, he realizes fresh air and sunshine could be just the things he needs. From the author (and illustrator Pete Oswald) of the modern classics The Bad Seed and The Good Egg. The Ickabog, by J. K. Rowling (Scholastic, $26.99). Once upon a time there was a tiny kingdom called Cornucopia, as rich in happiness as it was in gold, and O.Henry 31
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32 O.Henry
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Scuppernong Bookshelf famous for its food. From the delicate cream cheeses of Kurdsburg to the Hopes-ofHeaven pastries of Chouxville, each was so delicious that people wept with joy as they ate them. But even in this happy kingdom, a monster lurks. Legend tells of a fearsome creature living far to the north in the Marshlands . . . the Ickabog. Some say it breathes fire, spits poison and roars through the mist as it carries off wayward sheep and children alike. Some say it’s just a myth. Rumor is: This Rowling may amount to something. This Is Your Time, by Ruby Bridges (Delacorte Books for Young Readers, $15.99). Ruby Bridges is a civil rights activist who, at the age of 6, was the first black student to integrate an all-white elementary school in New Orleans. She was born in Mississippi in 1954, the same year the Supreme Court of the United States handed down its landmark decision ordering the integration of public schools. Her family happened to move to New Orleans, where on November 14, 1960, Bridges began attending William Frantz Elementary School, single-handedly initiating the desegregation of public education in New Orleans. Her walk to the front door of the building was immortalized in Norman Rockwell’s famous painting The Problem We All Live With. OH Brian Lampkin is one of the proprietors of Scuppernong Books
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O.Henry 33
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34 O.Henry
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Home by Design
Cooking for Julia
Cheesy olives and a smoky homage to one of the greats
By Cynthia Adams
When the spunky Southern writ-
er Julia Reed died in September, it felt personal.
Reed was a character in her own stories, a real hoot and a holler, as my Mama Patty would have said. Her columns, design books and sassy cookbooks (one title was inspired by her mama’s spiking sangria with a kick of vodka) showed a penchant for storytelling and squint-eyed observations. Her New Orleans homes — one on First Street and a post-divorce duplex in the Garden District — were crammed with books, family heirlooms, paintings, antiquities but also found-objects like bird nests and turtle shells. She even called the new pad a “Cabinet of Curiosities,” a habit wealthy Victorians famously kept. Reed’s memoir, The House on First Street: My New Orleans Story, was considered her best work. It was a love letter to post-Katrina New Orleans. (Reed’s Newsweek piece described a sign that advised NOLA looters: “Don’t Even Try. I am Sleeping Inside with a Big Dog, an Ugly Woman, Two Shotguns and a Claw Hammer.”) Reed was classy — and wealthy — enough to upholster a pair of antique rattan chinoiserie sofas in hand-dyed silks. She bought vintage beauties from Magazine Street, where some of the South’s finest
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antiques wind up on offer. Her design sense was kicky and admired. She wrote One Man’s Folly about Furlow Gatewood, the gifted antiquarian who has restored several of the most beautiful homes to be found, gathering them all on his compound in Americus, Ga. Reed not only knew Gatewood but stayed in one of his gorgeous homes, each of which are stuffed full of jaw-dropping treasures. They probably ate cheese straws, Gatewood’s favorite, and drank hard liquor. She no doubt brought her own deviled eggs and cheesy olives, which were touted in surprising places like The New York Times. Cheesy olives, it was said, are the first party fare to be scarfed down. The week she died of cancer at age 59, we were seeing two friends for Covid cocktails. It was time to drop my envy of Reed, her cool houses, great writing gigs and friendship with 95-year-old Gatewood, my celebrity crush. I pored over her top five recipes, which the Gray Lady republished, determining to pay homage to Reed. Even though her father was a Republican operative who worked for the Bush family, she was always diplomatic and her humor was bipartisan. Once asked about a pol’s chances during a tony Washington, D.C. book tour, sipping vodka-infused sangria from a blue highball glass, Reed quoted Louisiana’s Edwin Edwards: “The only way I can O.Henry 35
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lose this election is if I’m caught in bed with either a dead girl or a live boy.” The room dissolved in guffaws, because no matter where you stand on party lines, that was a bon mot. (Actually, it qualified as a sangria-infused wet quip.) But I digress. Cheesy olives sounded a lot like pigs in a blanket at first reading. Except, the dough, in addition to flour and egg, contains a block of cheddar and a hunk of butter. (And there is no pig.) This was to be the virgin run of a stand mixer, bought years ago because of the rare color, a Chinese Chippendale green. It looked good on the counter. Thus, learning why, a dough hook, which this mixer didn’t have, is a thing. Cheesy dough clumped like a primordial life form to the beaters, with gleaming chunks of butter grinning through. Wrestling the goopy dough from the beaters, I fashioned it around each Spanish olive. The results resembled The Little Prince illustrations. I pried them off my fingers onto a cookie tray. The whole shebang required nearly an hour’s labor, the oven preheating most of those slow-moving minutes. The oven was hot enough to singe off my eyelashes, brows and fine facial hair. Next up: Reed’s exemplary pralines. I substituted light brown sugar in the recipe. Measuring, mixing and anticipating the first taste of those olives — I beavered on with the candy. The whining mixer was nearly up to the task of folding evaporated milk into butter, pecans and sugar. I mixed and mixed some more. In the minutes stolen for a swift bathroom break, smoke had begun to billow from the oven. As in, call the fire station billows. Turning off the oven I snapped on the oven light; the cheesy olives were pancake flat, bubbling in a screed of oil. That is, what oil wasn’t now pooled in the bottom of the oven. It was as if I had just laid eight ounces of cheddar cheese and two ounces of butter on the oven’s bottom and hit “incinerate!” The roiling smoke grew denser. I hesiThe Art & Soul of Greensboro
Home by Design tated a second before opening the oven to grab the pan (rimless, another big mistake) and sprinted outside, our two dogs leaping and trying to get a good look. After much swearing and flapping of towels and deployment of a floor fan, the kitchen smoke began to clear. “I have always said that danger — or at least the possibility of it — is a crucial element of any good party,” observed Reed. I was succeeding on that score. The pralines would cook stove top, thank God. I grimly set to melting sugar and copious amounts of butter in a double boiler. Standing over it with a cooking thermometer to gauge the perfect temperature, I couldn’t help but cuss a little. (I’d heard of good cooks who deliberately falsified recipes so nobody could steal their thunder.) It was suspicious, how much fat burbled out of those disastrous olives, is all I’m saying. Then I noted: There was no mention of a double boiler. With lined pans waiting, I finally spooned up the praline goo. Being no fool, I knew better than to make candy on a rainy day; it was dry as a bone outside. But — the pralines never achieved the glistening appearance Reed described. No matter, I scraped the last, suspiciously granular bits off the side of the saucepan and tasted, burning my index finger and tongue. Yep. They were granular alright. Setting up rapidly, the pralines looked more like coconut stacks from Cracker Barrel. They did not look like pralines. Earlier, we had made boiled peanuts, more Southern fare, and in a pique, I decided to make a cold soup. The cheesy olives were misshapen lumps and the pralines were weird. But the peanuts were heavenly. I plunked them in a silver bowl and served up the whole shebang on good platters. Somewhere in the great beyond, Reed was having a belly laugh. OH Cynthia Adams is a contributing editor of O.Henry magazine. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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O.Henry 37
Food for Thought
Savoring What’s Here
Like sunlight in the quiet corners and memories of Thanksgivings past
By Bridgette A. L acy
As Thanksgiving approaches, I
am reminded of the holiday classic, It’s a Wonderful Life. Two angels are talking about the fictional George Bailey, a do-gooder businessman almost swindled by a competitor but saved by his community.
One angel asks what’s wrong with George. “Is he sick?” The other responds, “No, worse. He’s discouraged.” This has been a disheartening year. I live alone and work from home but the coronavirus pandemic has heightened my isolation. I miss the sisterhood of my yoga classes. Going to the grocery store has become a crazy game show where you race up and down the aisles to see how fast you can get the items on your list and get out of the store. I miss the pampering of getting my hair washed, cut and styled. Not to mention pedicures. The social isolation of not being able to hug a friend is depressing. I miss my monthly lunch outings with friends or going to hear an author reading at the local bookstore. I worry about my mother, who suffers from pre-existing health conditions. I grieve the deaths of public servants like Congressman John Lewis and Supreme
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Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who made it their life’s work to leave the world better than they found it. More than ever, we really need to gather around a table, hold hands and remember what we have to be thankful for. But the growing threat of the continuing spread of the coronavirus along with the flu makes us rethink how we’re going to celebrate the big feast. The pandemic has forced me to prioritize the essentials: faith, family and friends. And of course, food. I find myself calling on my ancestors for strength, thinking about my maternal grandparents who lived through the Great Depression and learned to depend on each other. It was also their home where I spent some of my most memorable Thanksgivings. I am missing my grandmother, who would often be waiting on the front porch to greet us on our visits. During the warm months, she would be sitting in the green porch chair and as our station wagon pulled in front of the house, she would dance a jig to greet us. My grandfather, whom I affectionately named Papa, prepared for our arrival with turkey, country ham, sweet potatoes and his homemade yeast rolls and coconut pies. He also stocked up on beaucoup candy and nuts for our collective sweet tooth. I savored the time with my extended family during those luxurious meals, when aunts, uncles, cousins, as well as my parents sat at the broad square table set with my grandparents’ Noritake china with delicate pink-and-blue flowers filled to their platinumThe Art & Soul of Greensboro
Food for Thought
trimmed rim. Thanksgiving was the ultimate Sunday dinner, where our bodies and spirits were nourished with good food and family stories illustrating survival and making do. This holiday season will look different for many of us. Once again, I am reminded that Thanksgiving is about appreciating what you have, not what you have lost. My friend, Mike, blessed me all summer with zucchini, summer squash, tomatoes, cucumbers and eggplant from his garden, along with jars of homemade preserves, jellies and pasta sauce. I relished creating mouthwatering salads and vegetable dishes from his bounty shared with me. Writing buddy Frances sent me two beautiful purple batik face masks I wear all the time. We talk for an hour at least once a week about whatever new series we are watching on Netflix, like Bloodline or The Great British Baking Show. We are craving interesting storylines or pastry and bread making. At the beginning of the pandemic, former co-worker, Lisa, met me at the farmers’ market and gave me a hundred-dollar bill to help me get by until paychecks started flowing again. We chat every couple of weeks, commiserating about our new normal and updates on finding necessities such as toilet paper and paper towels. Like many of you, I’ve had to find new ways to share in the communal act of breaking bread and celebrating life. But in the isolation and quiet, I am hearing the birds chirp in the morning, I am taking the time to pull out my good china and sip on a cup of peppermint tea. I linger as I take in the sunlight when it hits the kitchen corner with the small bouquet of yellow-and-orange gerber daisies and roses. This year has made me more mindful of how I spend my time. It has reminded me that our mortality is not limitless. It truly is a wonderful life. I want to use mine wisely and with great appreciation. OH Bridgette A. Lacy is the author of Sunday Dinner, a part of the Savor the South series by UNC Press and a finalist for the 2016 Pat Conroy Cookbook Prize. She’s an award-winning journalist with a public love affair with food and culture. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Weekend Away
Port City Adventure The Madcap Cottage gents “arrive” in Wilmington, literally
By Jason Oliver Nixon
John and I moved to North
Carolina from Brooklyn, New York, six years ago and, egads!, had yet to visit the North Carolina coast. Over the years, Florida friends had invited us to their retreats in Highlands and Blowing Rock, but a trip to the shore kept getting shelved in favor of somewhere more farflung — say, Sicily.
And then . . . Hello, pandemic! Living in High Point, our Emerywood nabes escape to the Figure Eights and Bald Heads, but we are a bit less fancy and more “beachadjacent” people who like to savor the strands for a stroll rather than loll about shoreside all day. John and I enjoy a view of the water but we don’t really swim — unless it’s a pool. We love history. Sidewalks. Charming residential architecture. Cool restaurants. And a hotel with a real personality that welcomes dogs and avoids trough-style breakfast situations. John and I polled our style-setting friends, and, eureka!, Wilmington seemed to fit the checklist perfectly. Hence, we piled into the trusty Subaru with the four-pound rescue pups, and the “circus” set sail for the easy three-hour drive to down-
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town Wilmington. Home base for the long weekend: The supremely relaxed-chic ARRIVE Wilmington Hotel. “You will love it — very Palm Springs,” said an in-the-know pal. And we did. ARRIVE Wilmington, a bold charcoal-and-white brick, cobbledtogether group of buildings, is part of a mini hotel group that stretches from Phoenix to Austin, from Memphis to, yes, Palm Springs. Easy, breezy, modern and yet steeped in history: The motel-like structure is actually one part circa-1915 dye factory meets one part former nunnery. On the dye factory front, the hotel has a colorful history: The historic marker outside the hotel’s main entrance trumpets the aptly named Topsy, the circus elephant who somehow escaped from her circus in the 1920s and ran amuck at the factory. Whew, we sighed, knowing that our high-strung pups would fit right in — but what did happen to Topsy après le déluge, we wondered. Within the ARRIVE complex, 36 rooms look onto a stunning, verdant garden kitted out with Adirondack and French bistro-style chairs and gas lanterns amidst a cornhole course, fire pits and cozy tables. Enjoy nibbles such as fried beets with whipped goat cheese and ginger-marinated beef skewers whilst sipping a vodkaand Campari-laced Drunken Monk cocktail, proffered from the super-friendly team working the Gazebo Bar. Our suite — #16 — was largely proportioned with a vaguely nautical theme: beadboard paneling, leather sofa, cozy kitchenette (aka mini fridge) and spacious tiled bathroom with the sign “Head” above the door. In summary: The ARRIVE’s location at the corner of South Second Street and The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Weekend Away
Dock is perfect for exploring. The staff couldn’t be more lovely and accommodating. And the rates — we feel — are wonderfully affordable (rooms start at $109/night for two adults). Factoid: The hotel’s nunnery annex houses a kooky “confessional,” a performance-like living sculpture accessed via your room key card — the perfect tonic after a night of too much sinning out on the town. After settling in with the pups, John and I walked to nearby Manna for a wonderful dinner. The meal was pricey — almost $225 for two — but beautifully crafted and paired with a level of intuitive, thoughtful service that we rarely, if ever, find in the Triad. John savored his half chicken with Carolina Gold dirty rice and kale, and I lapped up the Vichyssoise with trout roe and crème fraîche, plus smoked pork loin with radicchio and peaches. Next morning, we explored downtown Wilmington and popped into a few of the charming shops lining ever-gentrifying Front Street before grabbing potent coffees at Java Dog. For lunch we walked to Indochine, a good 3-mile stroll. “You walked?’ our chic-ster friend later asked, eyes wide, grasping her Chanel pearls. But, yes, these former New Yorkers can handle our own and had a blast stopping in at the several antiques outposts and a hipster coffee shop en route on up-and-coming Castle Street. Indochine is pure bliss. Fun, funky, irreverent, no pretense, bustling, no reservations and housed within a former public library that’s ablaze with color and pattern — so very us. Plus, our 6-mile round trip adventure burned off the glorious dumpling sampler, papaya salad and crispy bird-nest noodles washed down with a cool Allagash beer. After lunching and before hiking back, we explored the numerous buildings next door to Indochine that comprise The Ivy Cottage consignment store and trundled home a Tiffany vase, blanc-de-chine Chinoiserie figures and an Italian ceramic basket filed with ornamental apples. Yes, that was us. We toured moss-dripping Airlie Gardens, strolled postcard-perfect Wrightsville Beach at sundown, sipped margaritas with friends who arrived by boat at Wrightsville’s Tower 7, and explored downtown The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Wilmington with the pups who love wide sidewalks and abundant greenery. Oh, the amazing architecture and history in this port city! Sadly, the city’s many house museums were closed due to COVID, but they will be top of our list on our next visit. And the epicurean adventures continued at full gallop . . . Ah, Brasserie du Soleil out near Wrightsville Beach where we supped on knockout French bistro fare (think tuna tartare, steak frites and Scottish salmon with mint yogurt) as tree frogs serenaded us from the fountain on the bustling patio. We loved the cooking at True Blue Butcher and Table, but the strip-mall setting (read, primo view of a Chicken Salad Chick sign) left us aesthetically challenged. But, oh!, the terrific, buttery New York Strip with divine Béarnaise sauce and side of mac and cheese that we split with a glass of spot-on, $9 Tempranillo red. A little more ambience, s’il-vous plaît, or take advantage of the to-go option. Breakfast at the long-running, dive-ish White Front Breakfast House was a blast, and we walked and walked and then walked some more. On our final afternoon, we kicked back at the ARRIVE’s Gazebo Bar with the dogs scampering about. We sipped a cool rosé and took stock. Noted John, “I think this is the new Charleston but without the hordes. And there’s more of a range of restaurants here — I get so tired of the same Gullah fare night after night in the Holy City.” And my take? It’s still very affordable and a little rough around the edges and that’s part of the magic. Final assessment? Impressed. John and I definitely need to return — and soon — to this little weekend wonderland called Wilmington. OH The Madcap Cottage gents, John Loecke and Jason Oliver Nixon, embrace the new reality of COVID-friendly travel — heaps of road trips. ARRIVE Wilmington, arrivehotels.com O.Henry 41
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The Return of the Bufflehead
Birdwatch
The little ducks are back — if only for the winter
By Susan Campbell
For me, late
autumn means one of my favorite groups of birds, waterfowl, are on the way south.
As the colder months bring thousands south to spend the winter, the vast majority of ducks, geese and swans touch down along the coast. Still, inland throughout the Sandhills and Piedmont, reservoirs and farm ponds attract a great diversity of these web-footed wonders. Although nonmigratory wood ducks and mallards are common enough, smaller species can be seen, including the bufflehead. Male and female buffleheads have distinctly different plumage. Males are the showier of the two with lots of white on the head and the body and a splash on the wings. The glossy green “buffle” over the male’s cheeks and crown, though, is the bird’s really distinguishing feature. Also look for dark feathers on the back, and, in flight, a white stripe at the shoulder and a patch across the middle of the wing. Females are brown all over with just a white “ear” patch. Juveniles will sport their first set of feathers through most of the winter with young males looking very much like their mothers: having very limited white feathering. Overall, these are small, stout ducks with short, wide bills. One surprising feature of the males is their red-orange legs. You may get a glimpse of them as they come in for a landing. But come late winter, as their hormone levels change, they will be more apt to display their colorful shanks in addition to bobbing their handsome heads. Listen for their characteristic croaking calls as they swim around their mate, showing off. Unlike other species of ducks, they mate for life, only spending a little time apart in late summer when they undergo a complete molt. Bufflehead breed way up north in boreal forests — in close association with northern flickers. They are dependent on the woodpecker;
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
abandoned flicker cavities are just the right size for the diminutive hen to lay her eggs. As with other cavity-nesting waterfowl, as soon as all of the eggs have hatched (and that may take all day since there can be a dozen or more), mom will exit and call the young to her on the ground. The literal “leap of faith” ensues and the fat, downy balls of feathers will, one by one, jump out of the nest hole. It is not unusual for them to bounce a time or two when they hit the leaf litter. But their insulation and soft bones protect them from the impact. The brood will be led a short distance to water where they are well equipped to spend day and night from there on out. Inland, the birds have quite a broad diet during the cooler months. They have legs placed well back on their bodies so they are at ease diving and swimming in all sorts of wet habitats. You may see bufflehead diving not only for invertebrates but small clams, snails and worms in deep water. In shallow bays and around pond edges, they search out seeds and berries. Quite unexpectedly I came to realize that buffleheads can become regular “yard birds” if you live on a body of water that they frequent. In Whispering Pines, I would throw corn to the ring-necked ducks (yet another small wintering species) that came up to our bulkhead. Not long after the first bufflehead appeared, in about 2010, they not only zeroed in on the free food but quickly drove away the ring-necked fowl. Week after week, these little ducks would arrive at dawn looking for breakfast and provide lots of entertainment, enthusiastically diving to gobble up cracked corn. By the end of February, the flock would disappear, no doubt heading north, back to their breeding grounds. So each fall I would anticipate the return of the buffleheads. I would wait and wait: until one morning in late October, following a good cold front, the first feisty group would show up once again — hungry as ever! OH Susan would love to receive your wildlife observations and/or photos at susan@ncaves.com. O.Henry 43
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Wandering Billy
A Time to be Blunt Filmmaker Maurice Hicks wishes he didn’t have to talk about it, but he does and so he will
By Billy Eye
PHOTOGRAPH BY MARK WAGONER
The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any. — Alice Walker
I spent an afternoon with
filmmaker Maurice Hicks over lunch at Natty Greene’s recently. We talked about A Letter to My Son, a short film he made in 2015 that has become an unexpected, though not entirely welcome, cultural touchstone due to recent events.
A Letter to My Son is a heart-wrenching, unflinching monologue focusing on an African American man as he speaks to the son he may or may not have in the future, conflicted as to whether it would be appropriate to usher a child into an imperfect society The Art & Soul of Greensboro
where all too often, it seems, black lives don’t matter. There are so many resonant moments packed into this emotionally drenching 10-minute soliloquy, like this one: “I’m afraid that every time you go out on a Friday night, I’ll quietly say, ‘Lord, please bring him home safe.’ That with every urgent news flash bulletin on the TV I’m hoping, I’m hoping that’s not my son laying dead in the streets. That’s what continually swirls through my head. You see, I’m afraid that now . . . I’m afraid to have you. Afraid to bring you into a world that damn sure doesn’t feel like it’s welcoming you.” “I made it as a cathartic exercise,” Maurice says. “To kind of work through my frustrations and some of my concerns about the way the world was headed socially and how African Americans, and particularly African American men, were being treated.” The “letter” was a way for the filmmaker to process confounding, selfperpetuating, systemic injustices. “So, full disclosure, one night I got tipsy on Crown Royal and was just bearing my soul on the page. I wrote it in two hours.” O.Henry 45
Wandering Billy Maurice turned to writing partners and friends he trusts for honest feedback before committing to filming what could be seen as a contentious script. “I suggest to anyone who writes something that they feel is true to themselves — that they want to be true to themselves — that they should have people they can bounce ideas off of who will be honest with you about how something could potentially be perceived,” he says. “I spoke to Dave Norris, the producer of the film, and asked, ‘Can some of these statements fly? Because I’m being particularly blunt in the film.’ And he was like, ‘Do you believe in them? Are they true?’ And I said, ‘Absolutely, they’re all true. These are all instances that happen on a regular basis and they’re well documented.’ And Dave said, ‘Go for it.’” The film stars Cranston Johnson, at the time a relatively unknown actor who’s since been tapped for a number of prominent motion picture and network TV roles including Detective Hanson on Hap and Leonard for SundanceTV and Luke Taylor on Filthy Rich, a FOX series that premiered this fall. “I knew that Cranston could easily breathe the humanity into the film that it sorely needed because I feel like many groups of people, I’m not going to name names — but many groups of people are almost immune to black anger. Black rage does nothing for them.” Instead, Maurice attacked it from a different perspective. “When you’re coming from a place of vulnerability and fear,” he says, “it’s a softer approach and I feel like that can penetrate hearts much easier than just this constant anger. Too many people have seen that. And while I think it’s more than valid, some people are tired of it and it’s not working for them.” Filming took place at locations all around downtown Greensboro over two shorter-than-expected days. “It was like magic when we did it,” Maurice says of directing his 10-page script. “It’s literally just a block of text for ten pages. From start to finish, Cranston did the entire thing in one take. All the subsequent takes were just for coverage. I really wanted to focus on Cranston’s performance.” What
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Wandering Billy emerges is an Oscar-worthy achievement. A Letter to My Son was selected for more than 20 film festivals in 2015 including RiverRun International, one of the most prestigious film festivals in the Southeast. Cranston Johnson picked up a few awards including Best Actor in a Short at Rahway International Film Festival that year. “I won an audience award a couple places,” Maurice says. “I lost track because, while those awards are all important, I didn’t do it for that.” Longleaf Film Festival screened the short in 2015. This year they’ve invited back a cadre of filmmakers to host an event called FilmExchange featuring stories revolving around the African American experience, police brutality, discrimination and inequity in America. “They asked me to be a part of it and I was completely on it,” Maurice says. Still, Maurice would like nothing more than for this film to be totally irrelevant — a moment lost to the past. He describes the recent attention to A Letter to My Son as a bittersweet reality. “It was my hope as a writer, as an African American man, that one by one these issues would be eliminated so that the short would become invalid. It would be like, ‘Oh, wow. That was a really unfortunate place that we were in all those years ago, but I’m so happy that’s not the case today.’” But it has not come to pass. “I hate to say this, but every time an African American is killed under suspect circumstances, my phone rings off the hook, emails blow up. So it’s bittersweet because I love talking about it and bringing attention to the situation, but at the same time it’s another painful reminder that there is truth from this story, that it is valid, that the dialogue is worthy of conversation.” Maurice Hicks insists he’ll always answer the phone, respond to those emails, show up at the festivals when asked but, “I can’t wait for the day that I don’t need to show this anymore, don’t need to talk about this again. We’re not there yet, so I’ll still be there every single time they ask me to run my mouth.” OH Billy Eye is O.G. — Original Greensboro. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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NOVEMBER For more events, visit EVENTS TicketMeTriad.com
11/2
Sauce: Savory, Sweet, Soignee Cooking Class Reto’s Kitchen 6:00 pm
11/15
MADE 4 the Holidays Craft sale Greensboro Farmers Curb Market 10:00 am
11/24
Grandover Resort Thanksgiving to Go
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336.617.0090 Before purchasing tickets, please consult with the event organizer to confirm the event. If an event is canceled, the organizer will communicate directly with ticket holders regarding future plans and/or possible refunds.
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ANTA S FOR SENIORS PROGRAM
This program provides Christmas gifts to older adults throughout Guilford County who participate in Senior Resources of Guilford’s Meals on Wheels, Community Nutrition, Refugee Outreach and Case Assistance Programs.
DONATION DROP OFF
Donations of canned foods, toiletry items, puzzle books, blankets, hats, scarves and gloves can be dropped off at Senior Resources of Guilford’s main office at 1401 Benjamin Parkway in Greensboro. Donations will be accepted until December 23rd. 1401 Benjamin Parkway Greensboro, NC 27408 336-373-4816 Fax: 336-373-4922
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Senior Resources of Guilford is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization eligible to receive tax deductible donations. Your support enables the agency to respond to requests for information and services that will assist seniors to continue to live independently..
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October 2020
Exulansis The tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it. – The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows To my Northern friends: I regret I can no longer speak with authority about winter. I’ve forgotten the feeling of ears ringing with the silence of fresh snowfall, air so cold it stabs the lungs. Gone are those Norse names, the rough wool, heavy boots, bodies bent against wind so fierce there must be a name for it in Lakota. I can’t recall how despair closes in, a cloud blanket for days, dense, ominous. Remind me how, in a whiteout, a person can get lost between car and house. Tell me about children in mufflers waiting for the school bus in handmade huts, the shush of skis down slushy streets. Didn’t we find Easter eggs nested on the icy crust? I do remember that just when you vow to never shovel another drive, the bright flags of daffodils flare.
— Debra Kaufman
Debra Kaufman’s most recent book is God Shattered The of of Greensboro TheArt Art&&Soul Soul the Sandhills
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EARNING HIS WINGS Joe Bemis’ High Flying World War II Recreations By Billy Ingram • Photographs by Joe Bemis/Victory Productions
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EARNING HIS WINGS The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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S
eventy-five years ago this year, the United States and our Allies emerged victorious in both the Japanese and German theaters of war, marking the end of a senseless conflagration that upended an entire world. Photo-illustrator Joe Bemis has spent his entire professional career composing meticulously detailed pictorial recreations of scenes from America’s past wars, from the Revolution to Vietnam, with a special emphasis on the Second World War. Authenticity is everything. “Every little detail of the photo has to be period correct,” Bemis insists. “I try my best and ask a lot of living historians and re-enactors for advice.” Between his research and theirs, he usually gets it right. “To preserve and educate,” Bemis replies when asked why he goes to such lengths to capture bygone eras. “We have to preserve the memories of our veterans and the experiences they went through. And we also have to teach new generations about the sacrifices that they were willing to go through to preserve our democracy.” He travels the world photographing organized re-enactments of famous military campaigns as well as staging his own Victory Weekends where family, friends, war re-enactors, makeup artists and assistants breathe new life into long ago, far-away conflicts. “You have different types of re-enacts,” Bemis explains.
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“Tactical, which is going through maneuvers, camping, stuff like that. Or you have living history events that the public is allowed to attend, at a historic site or an airshow.” He goes on to say that there are also total immersion re-enactments “where you can’t have anything at all that’s modern.” Those events last for days, no one is allowed to go to their cars or make phone calls. “You’re in character for three or four days. I haven’t even made it to one of those because everyone and everything has to be completely authentic. There are people who shoot with period cameras but I’m not one of them. I’ve gotten used to the modern digital aspect of the art.” At Toccoa, Ga., he recently photographed a reenactment of 101st Airborne paratroopers training for battle, as depicted in the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers, based on Stephen Ambrose’s book by the same name. “I actually got to meet [Jim] “Pee Wee” Martin, one of the last surviving members of the 504th who trained at Camp Toccoa. Martin was in charge of a training exercise called Currahee, where recruits, among other skills, had to run 3 miles up a mountain and three miles back down. “You had to be able to run that mountain in 55 minutes, full gear,” he recalls. “We ran Currahee and it almost killed me. But I’m not 18 so . . .” The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Warbirds Over Monroe Air Show in Monroe, North Carolina, is where the photo of 101st and 82nd Airborne paratroopers getting a lift in a Jeep was shot. “That’s Eric Kalamaja at the wheel,” Bemis explains. “He’s 101st Airborne retired and does that re-enactment every year. That guy is hardcore, he rebuilds military Jeeps in his spare time and sells them.” This collection also contains photos taken at “D-Day Conneaut” in Ohio, a yearly, four-day long re-enactment of the Allies landing at Normandy. “I was one of the few photographers that got to shoot the landing craft,” Bemis says. “The Higgins boats in the background and the explosions I added in Photoshop.” As exciting as these off-site experiences can be, there’s nothing like on-scene re-enactments. Naturally, Bemis and his Victory team were present on June 6, 2019, for the 75th anniversary celebration of D-Day held at Normandy, France, where nearly 160,000 Allied service members embarked in Operation Overlord back in 1944. It was the largest military invasion in history, which, at a great human cost, would prove to be the decisive engagement leading to the end of World War II just one year later. He recalls the morning of June 6, 2019: “I was on Utah Beach O.Henry 55
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when the sun came up at 6 in the morning on the 6th,” Bemis recalls with pride. “The same moment, 75 years prior, those troops were landing on the beach.” That’s when he took the shot of a GI’s helmet lying on the early morning beach at Normandy, an iconic image seen in the motion picture The Longest Day. “Everybody’s attempted that shot but I did it a little differently just to make it my own. I’d always dreamed of being there and capturing that photograph.” Bemis watched in awe as a dozen Douglas C-47 Skytrains roared overhead, releasing paratroopers over actual D-Day drop zones as they had 75 years ago. “Nobody had parachuted into these historic drop zones since then,” he notes. Heading the formation was the original C-47 that led the assault in 1944, “The entire sky was nothing but paratroopers, there’s no Photoshopping in that picture, that’s the way it looked.” He staged a shot of Sherman tanks at Normandy, “But none of the Shermans made it to the beach on that first day,” Bemis tells me. “They weren’t counting on rough seas in the channel, so pretty much
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every tank that came off the delivery ships sank. They’re all still down there in the channel; you can actually go and dive on them.” While in the town of Sainte-Mère-Église, Bemis describes one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard: “A column of Sherman tanks, half-tracks and armored vehicles I’d only seen in museums.” The lead tank is the one used in the movie Fury starring Brad Pitt. “I was in shock, I was really excited taking photos, looking, watching, smelling. One of the soldiers pointed me out saying, ‘C’mon up.’ So I got to sit on one of the Sherman tanks while it was moving through town. With crowds of people all around us, it looked like the town was being liberated all over again.” As for the picture taken at Mulberry harbour of an older gentleman staring off into space, reminiscing no doubt about what he witnessed 75 years earlier as part of the first wave to hit Gold Beach on June 6th: “We were leaving when I saw him just sitting there,” Bemis says. “At the time I didn’t know who he was, what got my attention were all the medals hanging on his jacket.” While snapping a few shots, out of nowhere, the former Sapper with the Royal Engineers was surrounded The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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by reporters and TV crews. “This was actually a combination of three shots because those guys ran in front of me while I was shooting.” After returning home, Bemis just happened to see an interview with the fellow, Harry Billinge. “He’s all over the place right now. When he was 94 he was knighted by the Queen, he turned 100 this year so he was 99 in that picture.” Admittedly somewhat jaded after decades behind the camera documenting life during wartime, Bemis says, “When I first started going to these events I’d show up and say, ‘Oh my God, three Jeeps, a C-47, a P-51!’ Now I’m like, ‘What do you mean you don’t have two tanks?’” What’s the latest from Joe Bemis and Victory Productions? “There’s a big event in September,” he said last summer. “‘Road to Rome’ will have some 200 participants with tanks, half-tracks and equipment in a reimagining of the Italian campaigns from 1943–1945 staged at Enfield, N.C. The organizers have set up separate Allied and Axis Facebook pages so, if you’re a German re-enactor, for instance, you can’t go to the GI page to see what they’re doing.” Imagine how much faster the Allies could have won the war if only we could have peeked at Hitler’s Facebook page or intercepted his tweets. OH Joe Bemis shot many of these images in collaboration with Patrice Wessling. You can purchase prints of these photos and other American combat depictions at vforvictory.us.
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Harry Billinge The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Love
Homemade with Photographs by Bert VanderVeen
S
omething about homemade jams, pickles and syrups feels sacred and primal. As if linking us to a time when we worked with the Earth and grew our own food and baked our bread from scratch. Certainly they suggest a slower pace of life, one perhaps many of us glimpsed during stay-at-home mandates this year. And like anything homemade with wholesome simplicity and the freshest ingredients available, they always, always taste better than store-bought. We found four local home goods makers who are keeping the art of DIY alive and well, either for practicality or, more often, the simple joy of it.
Mary’s Pretty Good Jams Sweet Dreams Are Made of This By Billy Ingram
“W
hat I’ve discovered is, if you make jam the same day that you pick the berries, it yields the best flavor. So that’s what I do,” says Mary Perko who, for over 40 years, has been making jams and other confectionaries the way Great-Grandmother did. Mary’s Pretty Good Jams — which include, to name a few, strawberry, black & blueberry and spicy peach flavors — are the finest nectarous spreads money can’t buy. Mary gives her flavorful fruit preserves away. Six years ago her husband Dana was transferred from Alabama, where they’d lived for 20 years, to Greensboro. “I struggled a bit with homesickness,” Mary says. “What grounds me is doing what I did in Alabama, making jams, cooking, baking and then giving it all away.” From the very beginning, ingredients have been locally sourced. “I’ve been fortunate to find strawberry fields in Kernersville along with blackberries, blueberries and peaches at my favorite of favorites, Blueberry Thrill Farm in Gibsonville.” Mary calls venturing out to the farm her counseling session. “Picking for me has been somewhat of a ‘zen’ experience. It’s quiet, there are no cell phones, you’ve got the birds chirping, blue skies and all of this bountiful fruit that is just absolutely
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amazing. I can pick ten gallons of berries in an hour or so.” Recently she’s added sweet and tangy chow chow to her repertoire with yellow squash, zucchini, onions and jalapeños grown by nearby Smith Farm, Ingram’s Farm and Parsons Farm. “I am also part of the CSA program at Guilford College. That’s been my source for peppers.” Mary’s Pretty Good Jams has developed quite a following over the decades. Last year over 300 Mason jars of ambrosial delight made their way around the U.S.A. “This year I’m about at that level now and it’s not even Christmas,” she said in October. “The recipients are friends back in Alabama and around the country, neighbors, former neighbors and my coworkers.” For Mary, there is no greater reward than seeing others enjoying fruits of her efforts. “It’s just something I enjoy doing,” she says. “Some days I think, ‘Should I start selling these at the Farmers’ Market?’ And I might, but I’m not sure how many people would spend six bucks for a jar of jam.” Not everyone gets the golden ticket. Should you discover one of Mary’s Pretty Good Jams under the tree, Santa obviously thinks you’ve been very good this year. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Elderberry Magic Helping people heal with Syrup and More By Jim Dodson
J
ennifer Zullo is a woman with a passion for helping people, as evidenced by the pleasure she derives from her two jobs. Her day job is coaching college students with learning differences at Guilford College, High Point University and Greensboro College, using her years of training and work for social services and the high court system of the British Government to improve the lives of young people facing challenges. “It’s very rewarding work,” Zullo confirms, “helping young people unlock their potential and find their way through college. But my most fun job is what I do almost every Monday.” That’s when this energetic mother of two young sons spends five or six hours in the community shared-use kitchen on Clifton Road. As part of the Out of the Garden Project, the Triad’s most successful nonprofit feeding program, she makes and bottles her homemade Syrup and More Elderberry Syrup, a natural remedy for colds, flu and general nutritional health that has developed a passionate following of its own over the past five years. The idea was born in her own home kitchen in Greensboro when she decided to find a natural way to improve the immune systems of her own young sons, Aaron and Abram. “I’d been reading about the benefits of organic elderberry syrup and had a friend in Florida who made her own. That inspired me to do my research and start working on recipes of my own.” The one she eventually developed is a delicious syrup that combines both organic American and European-grown elderberries with locally sourced raw honey, rose hips, hibiscus and a variety of spices well known for their healing properties like clove, ginger and cinnamon. Elderberries have long been considered a powerhouse boost The Art & Soul of Greensboro
to a healthy immune system, slam full of vitamins A and C plus high levels of iron, a traditional winter remedy for colds, flu and allergies. Her next step was to go through the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market’s innovative Kitchen Connects GSO program and gain certification with the Department of Agriculture. Her mission to produce a delicious high-quality syrup that was also priced below other elderberry products on the retail market was compatible with Out of the Garden’s work to ease food poverty across the region. “The reason I do that is because I don’t think we should have to lobby for health care when we already pay a fortune for it,” she says, pointing out that her organic vendors honor this noble goal by giving her a discount on everything from elderberries to honey, thus keeping the retail price down. “I love making this syrup, and I love the idea of helping people,” she adds. “I would probably give it away if I could.” She produces anywhere from 50 to 100-plus bottles of elderberry syrup per week and sells every bottle she makes. With demand on the rise and winter on the doorstep, you can find Jennifer Zullo’s marvelous elderberry syrup at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, All Pets Considered, Sunset Market Gardens in Reidsville, Black Dog Home & Café in Jamestown, Local Roots Coffee Bar in Kernersville, Pleasant Garden Country Market and The Budding Artichoke in High Point. For more information and a complete list of locations, visit www. syrupandmore.com. O.Henry 63
Pincha DryRub Because it’s good on everything By Ashley Wahl
P
erhaps this isn’t the first origin story to have started inside of a Virginia Tech frat house in the 1970s, but for Kernersville resident Mark Stoehr, it’s certainly the most memorable. Stoehr, whose name is pronounced like “grocery store” (insert his slight Southern drawl), recalls sharing a house with his fraternity brothers, cooking supper and cleaning the dishes once a week. “I kept pulling down all the spices I used for making hamburgers or whatever I was cooking, and one of my brothers finally said, ‘Why don’t you save yourself some trouble and mix them all together?’” Thus, Pincha DryRub was born. Of course the recipe has evolved since Stoehr’s college days, finetuned years later when he started cooking whole hogs. Now he’s got his dry rub down to a science: Herbs (sage, sweet basil, rosemary, cilantro, dill weed, marjoram and thyme), spices (paprika, cayenne, chili powder and black pepper) and vegetables (ground celery, granulated onion and green bell pepper), plus ginger, turmeric, garlic powder, mustard seed, sunflower oil, sugar and salt. The label suggests using Pincha for meat, stew and sauces, but Stoehr says you can rub it on anything and everything you cook, which he does. It’s not too hot, but heat isn’t the point. A good dry rub should enhance the natural flavor of the meat, not distract from it. Throughout his 33-year career as a product engineer for Analog Devices Inc., Stoehr designed computer chips and their test systems. Pincha DryRub was a side hustle, more a labor of love than necessity. But the demand was there. Mostly he sold it to his colleagues. Three years ago, following his retirement from Analog Devices,
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Stoehr turned all of his attention toward Pincha. He wanted his rub in stores, and so he first pitched it to the owner of Musten & Crutchfield Food Market in Kernersville, where he frequently shops. “He didn’t have anything like it,” says Stoehr, “and so he bought a case of it. Now he usually buys a couple cases a month.” Pincha DryRub is currently available at over 20 locations in North Carolina and Virginia, including shops in Kernersville, Colfax, Browns Summit, High Point, Winston-Salem and Greensboro. He sells the largest volume to The Extra Ingredient at Friendly Shopping Center and Gourmet Pantry in Blacksburg, Va., not far from the old frat house where it all started. He convinces stores to carry his rub by doing what he’s done since college: He cooks for people. Usually chicken or hamburger. Because when you experience Pincha the way it’s meant to be experienced, says Stoehr, it sells itself. And for the vegetarian? “It’s great on vegetables,” he says. Take an onion, he suggests. Scoop out the middle. Add a bouillon cube (obviously vegetable broth, although that’s not what Stoehr would use), butter and a pinch of Pincha. “Wrap it up in foil and cook it for an hour,” says Stoehr. In other words, let the dry rub speak for itself. Pincha DryRub is available at The Extra Ingredient in Friendly Shopping Center, Gate City Butcher Shop, Town & Country Meat and Produce, and Al Aqsa Meat Market in Greensboro. For a complete list of locations and more information, visit pinchadryrub.com. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Cookie Gurlie Pure joy — and ingredients — in every bite By Ashley Wahl
I
t’s impossible not to smile when you see Cheryl Pressley at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market on Saturday mornings — and not just because she’s the Cookie Gurlie. It’s the joy in her eyes. The glow of a woman who is here doing what she loves. Cheryl Pressley just might have been put on this planet to bake gourmet cookies. Gourmet cookies, folks. Her trademark slogan — A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand — is the gentle nudge one just might need to hear when trying to choose between the Ginger & Mo, for instance, and the Alfajore (that’s Latin American shortbread filled with homemade dulce de leche). You can’t argue with that. And given that her ingredients are the freshest and purest she can find — we’re talking unrefined pure cane sugar, spices from a local vendor, eggs and butter from local farms and, when in season, fresh berries and figs grown right here in Greensboro — you’re going to want that second cookie. If Pressley had to pick just two of her gourmet creations forevermore (luckily she doesn’t, but she kindly played along), she would have a Chocolate Dippity Doo!! in one hand, a Not Yo’ Momma’s Chocolate Chip in the other. All the best cookies have stories. Why chocolate chip? “When I was a kid, probably like most kids, that was the first cookie that I attempted to bake.” She had seen what Wally Amos, as in Famous Amos, was doing and thought: If he can make cookies, then I can too. Her family said hers were better. “But, you know, they love me,” quips Cheryl. As for the Chocolate Dippity Doo!!, a customer favorite studded with dark chocolate chunks, toffee and walnuts, dipped in dark chocolate and “finished with a sprinkle of Mediterranean sea salt,” this was the cookie that awakened Cookie Gurlie as we know her. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
One of Pressley’s relatives had recently undergone chemotherapy and experienced what’s called taste changes. “I was trying to think of a flavor combination that would excite her taste buds,” recalls Pressley. She made what was essentially a Chocolate Dippity Doo, but something was missing. Then she remembered her grandma’s advice: You always have to have a little salt with your sweet. “The salt really balanced the sweetness,” says Pressley. And that’s when she added the double exclamation points to the name, which you can hear in her voice. Baking cookies for her cousin-in-law allowed Cheryl to play with wild flavor combos. She shared her creations with friends and family, who gave her feedback. She fine-tuned her recipes. When her cousin-in-law died six years ago, Pressley thought her cookie adventures were over. But then something unexpected happened. She started getting calls from people requesting cookie orders. Like, lots of calls. Cookie Gurlie became a business in what felt like the blink of her sparkling brown eyes. Cheryl now bakes up to one thousand cookies a week. She says the best part of her business is the connections she makes with her customers. For many, her cookies unlock childhood memories. “People share their stories with me,” she says. As the holiday season nears, you can expect to find year-round Cookie Gurlie favorites like Chocolate Dippity Doo!! and Ginger & Mo (made with black strap molasses and topped with black and white cracklin’ sugar). But save room for her ineffable sweet-potato cheesecake — it’s not a cookie, but nobody says a balanced diet excludes cake. OH Find Cookie Gurlie at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro, every Saturday from 7–11 a.m. or online at www.cookiegurlie.com. O.Henry 65
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
A Case of
Holiday Kismet
For Marc and Mary Powell Young DeLille, High Point’s historic Wilson House was nearly theirs before they saw it By Cynthia Adams • Photographs by Amy Freeman
T
welve years ago, Marc and Mary Powell Young DeLille had completed a renovation on Hillcrest Drive in High Point’s Emerywood neighborhood, and the resulting improvements (including a brand new kitchen) were just as they hoped. The DeLilles, experienced renovators themselves, were contented. That is, until a remarkable property known as the Lucy and J. Vassie Wilson house, one listed on the National Register of Historic Places, lured them inside for just a peek at its Federal Revival style. The unforgettable date was December 24, 2008. Mary Powell Young DeLille — whom everyone in High Point knows as Mary Powell — says what happened next was not exactly expected. (Was it simply a stroke of good fortune, or a bit of holiday kismet?) “It was Christmas Eve. We were at my mom’s for dinner. She mentioned the house.” The Wilson House!
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Mary Powell and Marc exchanged looks and her Realtor mother, Carol Young, didn’t hesitate a minute. After all, the occupants were no longer there. Carol said knowingly, “Let me go and get my key to the lock box.” The couple rose up from the table, thinking it would be interesting to look — where was the harm? They could pop over and be right back in a tickety-boo — resuming their celebration. The Wilson House was one the DeLilles had long admired. “And, I love to go into homes,” Mary Powell adds. But she also felt that frisson of knowing; her house intuition kicked in. Even from the street, this particular house was a seducer. The historic Wilson House stood out in its grandness and exceptional features — not to mention the many practical positives. It was situated on a generously sized half-acre corner lot. A separate three-car brick garage with an upstairs three-room apartment (intended for servants’ quarters) was accented with the same eye-catching green tile roof as the one on the main house. Well . . . A thought flickered through Mary Powell’s mind: the Wilson House was big. Face it, she thought. It was a lot of house — as it was over 6,400 square feet. And then another cautionary thought: We really like where we are. Consider that Mary Powell is interested in historic preservation. The National Register revealed details about its architectural significance. The two-story brick Wilson House is considered “high style” Federal Revival in design — and what style! — which meant it possessed unique embellishments. These special features include arches over the front windows, with bas-reliefs of garlands and urns. The 1926 home had a stately semicircular entrance portico with columns and stylized Corinthian capitals.
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The symmetrical design incorporated an open porch with Doric columns on the east side. On the west was a porte-cochère with Doric columns, allowing for access via the side of the house. Over both sides were Chinese Chippendale-style balustrades. The porte-cochère had since been widened to allow for modern SUVs — versus the slimmer Packards or Pierce Arrow roadsters driven in the Roaring Twenties. Carol Young knew the house well, having shown it in the past. Better still? The Federal beauty with a green tile hipped roof had just been reduced in price. As the DeLilles followed Carol through the double doors it was evident. Here was the stuff that house addicts like the DeLilles live for. The Wilson home was remarkably intact; no calamities had befallen the house, nor unfortunate modifications to its many charms. Mary Powell grins, recalling that memorable moment on Christmas Eve. “We walked in — you know when you find the right house. It spoke to me.” It was grand but not stiff, with 10.5-foot ceilings that made the spacious house seem enormous. The impressive double doors opened directly to the living room with an original Federal-style mantle and plaster embellishments. The plaster walls (in excellent condition) were accented by deep plaster crown moldings and raised box molding that resembled wood. “It had a lot of inlaid floors,” Mary Powell noted. They were also immaculate, red oak laid in concentric rectangles. Black walnut and sycamore had been used for a contrasting border. French doors on either side of the fireplace opened to the porch. A smaller room on the right was designated as the study on the existing blueprints conveyed with the house. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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At the rear of the downstairs was the dining room, which had the original crystal chandelier, complete with the original plaster medallion. Off the dining room was a small sunporch. There was a breakfast room, with original cabinetry, and also the kitchen with storage and pantry. Almost all the original features in the house had remained untouched. This was the sort of property that makes house lovers a bit weak in the knees. Sobering, cautionary thoughts did percolate for Mary Powell. The kitchen could use updating. So could the baths; albeit there were charming arches over the showers and tubs. Christmas Eve resumed as the DeLilles left the house. Would they tackle a historic renovation this big and grand? “We thought about it and thought about it. We just had to do this,” says Mary Powell. “It’s my husband’s baby too,” she smiles. In her single years, Mary Powell Young envisioned a future as a sculptor and painter, creating art and attending gallery openings. That changed soon after she graduated from the College of Charleston with a fine arts degree. That she ended up returning to her High Point hometown, she admits, sort of surprised her. But her fam-
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ily had deeply set Triad roots, given her father’s career as a veterinarian and her mother’s real estate career. Mary Powell also shared “this house thing” with her mom — meaning she loved houses in an equal opportunity way, especially down-ontheir-luck ones. Ones needing love, she says. Her mother had an idea right after Mary Powell’s return: They should tackle a fixer-upper. Mary Powell’s first project was 1013 Johnson Street near the JH Adams Inn. Known as the Dalton-Bell-Cameron Craftsman Bungalow, it had partially burned in the mid-1990s. The project turned out so well that her mom suggested she become a contractor. Mary Powell flirted with the idea of doing it. “But 1013 Johnson Street was my contractor’s course,” she laughs. “I liked the idea of saving houses,” she adds. However, the reality of becoming and being a contractor — first putting hours into studying, getting a license and then spending long hours handling paperwork, pulling permits and getting projects bids — was unappealing. Instead, she got her Realtor’s license, joining her mother in the business. Yet the renovation bug had bitten her. Her early success was appealing enough that she kept renovating promising houses. She had worked on six properties when she first met Marc DeLille, who is in The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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commercial real estate. The restored Dalton-Bell-Cameron Bungalow remained the DeLilles’ home for 10 years. It was where she initially lived as a single woman undertaking renovation projects, and where she remained after marriage and while beginning a family. The couple moved on to other homes, renovating and improving their way through High Point properties. In 2013, the Dalton-Bell-Cameron Bungalow suffered near devastation after the DeLilles’ had sold it. After a second and far more serious fire the bungalow languished and was nearly razed until six years later, when it was restored yet again thanks to the High Point Preservation Society. Mary Powell is both a member of the High Point Historic Preservation Commission and the Junior League; the Junior League chose the bungalow as a showhouse. (See the feature story in the November 2019 issue of O. Henry.) Since meeting and marrying Marc, Mary Powell says they undertook three house renovations together. “Someone called me a house Sherpa one time,” she laughs. “The artist in me loves houses.”
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Within months of seeing the Wilson House, the DeLilles owned it. In nearly 100 years, the property had only been owned by four people. Yet it had been well kept. “We did nothing to the living room apart from painting the ceiling,” says Mary Powell. “It said, ‘Make me pretty again!’” She quickly claimed the original library as her office and the sleeping porch for an art studio. Mary Powell put her art training to good use. Marc erected scaffolding so she could restore the bas-relief stucco garlands on the front exterior. “Chunks were falling off. I made plaster molds, got Bondo and layered it. All the swags above were gone. I did the relief first then the stucco.” It was challenging work, but “I had to redo those!” she says, calling the garlands “the signature of the house.” They expanded the master bedroom’s ensuite bathroom and closets, preserving the arch over the shower. The master bedroom retains the original fireplace, one of two in the house. “I’m an immediate gratification kind of person,” she laughs. “As an artist, I love making something pretty again, something screaming for help.” The Art & Soul of Greensboro
By example, Mary Powell kneels on the sunporch floor. She excavated layers of old tile to expose a penny tile mosaic beneath in excellent condition. The kitchen was redone just last summer. The DeLilles retained the original buffets and pantry and copied the kitchen’s floor — a pattern of walnut inlay in red oak — carefully replicating it in the new portion of the kitchen. Fortunately, they owned the original blueprints, so it was simple to identify load-bearing walls and the home’s plumbing and electrical systems. With four bedrooms and three and one-half baths, the house is roomy and accommodating. Architectural Digest once called the house a “combination of high-classical design and funky iconoclasm.” As landscapers buzzed around the property in autumn, Mary Powell revealed their latest “COVID project,” which involved reviving an outdoor lion’s head fountain. “We Realtors hear that term all the time — everybody had a COVID project this year. People are doing a lot of decorating.” The fountain, now working again, is the prime feature of the original sunken garden and terrace behind the garage, which also appears on the 1926 blueprints. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
With new landscaping and a new area for the family to entertain outdoors, the garden space is serenely private. “We bought chairs from the Amish Trading Company for the garden,” Mary Powell says, “but had to wait given the demand for outdoor seating during the pandemic — when everyone wants to move gatherings outdoors.” As a friend says, you can find the DeLilles working on their property almost any weekend. The artist within admits the work isn’t completely done. “I would love to update the boys’ bath and the garage apartment,” Mary Powell adds. The large floored attic, where a former owner’s children used to roller skate, is still another project. These will hold the interest of an addicted do-it-yourselfer, a trait the couple share. “The Lucy and J. Vassie Wilson House ranks among the finest, and retains excellent integrity,” reads the National Register application. In making the house their own, it has certainly become pretty again. And the DeLilles’ most successful project — “Yet,” adds Mary Powell with a knowing smile. OH O.Henry 73
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Turnip Eater
A L M A N A C
November n By Ashley Wahl
N
ovember is the sculptor and the stone — ever chiseling away, ever clarifying what has always been, gently unveiling the mystery. Near-bare branches reveal ash-gray skies, crisp silhouettes in all directions and a panorama so clear you wonder how you never noticed what you’ve never noticed. The veil is thin. Like trees with lungs, deer stand silent, eyes wide, ears spread like radio antennae. There is nothing and nowhere to hide. Even the last of the leaves have let go — not yet of their branches but of their need for sunlight. No more churning out chlorophyll. No more illusion of green. Only dappled yellow and mottled orange, the brilliant scarlet truth. November is the last of the apples, zucchini bread warm from the oven and the cold sting of autumn in your eyes and bones. In a flash, an earful of waxwing ornament the tender branches of the dogwood, pass its red berries from bill to bill like children sharing candies. You heard them before you saw them. And like a dream, the birds have vanished as suddenly as they arrived, the berries gone with them. November guides you inward. You are standing in the kitchen now, cradling a hot beverage until your face and fingers thaw. It doesn’t happen all at once, this softening. But sure as the final leaves descend, the grace of the season will become clear: Things fall away to reveal what matters most. And with all this space — this bare-branched view of the brilliant scarlet truth — there is gratitude. You give thanks for what is here now, the cold sting of aliveness and the warmth within the mystery.
The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night, Ya-honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation, The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close, Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky. — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
It’s turnip season, and if that doesn’t thrill you from tongue to root, consider the words of Pliny the Elder, who maintained that the turnip “should be spoken of immediately after corn, or the bean, at all events; for next to these two productions, there is no plant that is of more extensive use.” In Roman times, the globular roots were hurled at unpopular public figures much in the way disappointed groundlings chucked rotting fruit at Shakespeare’s duds. There are more practical uses, of course. During World War I, bread and potato shortages gave birth to the “Turnip Winter” of 1916–1917. German civilians subsisted on them. And in World War II, when biscuits and mutton were scarce, guess what? The turnip was there, best in savory Lord Woolton pie, named for the Minister of Food who popularized the dish in 1940. Turnips are low in carbs and packed with nutrients. Roast them in butter. Mash them with sage. Pan-fry their greens with sweet onions and garlic, balancing the bitter with brown sugar, salt and apple cider vinegar. In 2018, Tasmanian farmer Roger Bignell accidentally grew a world record-breaking turnip that weighed a whopping 18.36 kilograms (that’s over 40 pounds). Imagine unearthing that sucker, a root the size of a border collie! Not so easy to hurl. If Charles Dickens used the word “turnip” in a novel, he was likely referring to a country bumpkin. But it’s a gift to be simple, and when life gives you turnips, you might just get creative with them.
Quiet Time The full Beaver Moon rises on Monday, November 30. It’s time now. The beaver retreats to its lodge, the squirrel to its drey. The bumblebee burrows underground, alone, dreaming of honey and clover. The creatures lead the way, but we, too, turn inward. Warm wishes and good health to you and yours this holiday season. May your hearts and cupboards be full. OH
O.Henry 75
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
GUIDE TO GIVING
O.Henry magazine is pleased to present the 2020 Guide to Giving. As you begin planning for the holidays, please give some thought to how you can help those 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 on annual fundraising. This year, when fundraising events are not possible, your donations are more important than ever. With your help, be it monetary or hands-on, we can support their missions and have a hand in bettering Greensboro. We thank the local businesses that made our Guide to Giving possible through their sponsorship. To learn how your business can sponsor the 2021 edition, please call 336-617-0090.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 77
3305 Redington Dr., Greensboro, NC 27410 336.547.7000 www.ASimpleGestureGSO.org Established 2011
MISSION STATEMENT Ending hunger through the simple gesture of filling a bag.
WHO WE SERVE A Simple Gesture collects food for 11 pantries that serve children 0-17 and pantries that are strategically located throughout Guilford County, including Backpack Beginnings, Jewish Family Services and Faith Action International.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER We need volunteers to leave food on their front porch every other month, volunteers who can pick up food and deliver it to local pantries and volunteers to sort food. Sign up on our website.
HOW TO DONATE Donate at ASimpleGestureGSO.org/Donate or send a check to 3305 Redington Dr. Greensboro, NC 27410
KEY FACTS: • A Simple Gesture has collected over a million pounds for local food banks and is the National headquarters of more than 60 other cities that collect food door-to-door. • In 2020, A Simple Gesture spearheaded a project to feed children 0-5 at pediatrician offices, the first program of its kind in the country. • One of the most effective ways to end hunger in the long-term is to feed children. Studies show that children who are well-nourished earn 50% more over their lifetime than children who are hungry.
This ad made possible by A Simple Gesture
78 O.Henry
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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 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
WHO WE SERVE 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.
This ad made possible by Truliant Federal Credit Union
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 79
122 North Elm, Suite 301, Greensboro, NC 27410 336.691.1268 www.cisgg.org Established 1988
WHO WE SERVE
MISSION STATEMENT The mission of Communities In Schools is to surround students with a community of support, empowering them to stay in school and achieve in life.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER Call us at 336-691-1268 or sign up at cisgg.org or find us on FaceBook
Communities in Schools serves students in grades K-12 at participating Title 1 schools. We serve over 2500 students.
KEY FACTS: • • • •
We have served 41,684 students at 22 schools 99.15% of students in our program remain in school 96% graduate from high school CISGG is a United Way Strategic Partner
HOW TO DONATE Donations are received at our website or directly at Communities In Schools 122 N. Elm St., Greensboro, NC 27401
This ad made possible by UBS Financial Services Inc.
Making a difference IIn nvveessttiin ngg iin n eed du uccaattiioon n ffoorr G Grreeeen nssb boorroo''ss cch hiilld drreen n John M. Aderholdt John M. Aderholdt Vice President--Wealth Management Vice President--Wealth Management 336-834-6952 336-834-6952 john.aderholdt@ubs.com john.aderholdt@ubs.com
Mark Aderholdt, CFP®® Mark Aderholdt, CFP Wealth Strategy Associate Wealth Strategy Associate 336-834-6918 336-834-6918 mark.aderholdt@ubs.com mark.aderholdt@ubs.com
Ann Roberts Ann Roberts Client Service Associate Client Service Associate 336-834-6961 336-834-6961 ann.roberts@ubs.com ann.roberts@ubs.com UBS Financial Services Inc. UBS Financial Services Inc. 717 Green Valley Road 717 Green Valley Road Suite 250 Suite 250 Greensboro, NC 27408 Greensboro, NC 27408 ubs.com/fa/johnaderholdt ubs.com/fa/johnaderholdt Certified Financial Planner Board of Standards Inc. owns the certification marks CFP®® and CERTIFIED FINANCIAL PLANNER™ in the U.S. ©UBS 2020. All rights reserved. UBS Financial rdbseIrnFcI.NoRwAn/Ss IPthCe. cDe-rUtiBfiSc-a1tC io2nEm rk3s CFP and CERTIFIED FINANCIAL PLANNER™ in the U.S. ©UBS 2020. All rights reserved. UBS Financial SCeerrvtiicfieesdInFcin. aisncaiasluPblsain dn iaerry Boof aUrdBSofASGt.an Mdeam A2aB ServO.Henry ices Inc. is a su bsidiary of UBS AG. Member FINRA/SIPC. D-UBS-1C2EA2B3 The Art & Soul of Greensboro
80
2800 E. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro, NC 27401 336.373.2199 www.GreensboroBeautiful.org Established 1968
MISSION STATEMENT To conserve and enhance the beauty and ecology of our community through public and private cooperation.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER Email us at GreensboroBeautiful@gmail.com, or visit us online at GreensboroBeautiful.org to see all our volunteer opportunities, and how you can get involved.
HOW TO DONATE
WHO WE SERVE Greensboro Beautiful’s work brings beauty and a high quality of life to all of our families and children in a very lasting way. Trees and other plantings make Greensboro beautiful, litter cleanups keep Greensboro beautiful. And the impact of Greensboro’s gardens goes beyond physical beauty -- they contribute to education, environmental conservation, health and recreation.
KEY FACTS: • Developed each of Greensboro’s 4 public gardens with private donations from the community; host free family events in each garden annually. • Conducts annual tree plantings in parks, neighborhoods, and public areas. • Conducts 3 community litter cleanups each year.
Online at GreensboroBeautiful.org
This ad made possible by Guilford Garden Center
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
701 Milner Dr. Greensboro 336-299-1535 guilfordgardencenter.com O.Henry 81
3310 Horse Pen Creek Rd., Greensboro, NC 27410 336.282.7044 www.NobleKnights.org Established 1987
WHO WE SERVE
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
Students in grades 2-12 diagnosed with ADHD and learning differences or experiences 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-SACS, IDA, and a Wilson® Accredited Partner.
Donations are received at our website, www.nobleknights.org or directly at Noble Academy to the attention of Chere Flowers.
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Call: 336-851-1990 82 O.Henry
24 HOUR Veterinary Care on Your Schedule The Art & Soul of Greensboro
P.O. Box 4025 Greensboro, NC 27404-4025 336.691.0088 www.piedmontland.org Established 1990
MISSION STATEMENT
WHO WE SERVE
Piedmont Land Conservancy protects our region’s natural lands, farms and waters for present and future generations. PLC connects people with nature.
PLC is a locally-based organization serving nine northern Piedmont counties – Alamance, Caswell, Forsyth, Guilford, Randolph, Rockingham, Stokes, Surry, and Yadkin. Our work impacts everyone, since we all need clean water, locally grown food, and places to hike, bike, fish, and connect with nature.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER PLC has semi-regular volunteer opportunities for individuals and groups, including team-building workdays for businesses. Contact us at info@piedmontland.org to learn more.
HOW TO DONATE You can become a member of PLC with an annual or monthly gift, by donating a car, truck, boat, or camper or by attending one of our events. Find out more at piedmontland.org.
KEY FACTS: • Our projects generally fall into four areas: water quality, farms and farming communities, open space and public access, and special and rare places. PLC always works with willing landowners and partners to reach conservation goals. • PLC established the Piedmont Legacy Trails program to highlight our natural places, connect trail efforts, and give voice to regional trail interests for the benefit of our communities. • PLC also hosts regular nature outings and events. We can also usually help plan group nature outings, guest speakers, and field trip opportunities.
This ad made possible by Maxie B’s Bakery
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 83
PO Box 13136, Greensboro, NC 27415 336.272.5003 www.PreservationGreensboro.org Established 1966
MISSION STATEMENT We build thriving communities by protecting and renewing our historic and architectural treasures.
WHO WE SERVE Greensboro and surrounding communities in Guilford County
KEY FACTS: HOW TO VOLUNTEER Simply call our office or email us from our website to help with gardening, salvages, or events!
HOW TO DONATE
• Blandwood Mansion features an original mid-19th century decorative arts collection. • Architectural Salvage recycles vintage building elements such as fireplace mantels and hardware. • Explore history and architecture on neighborhood walks, open houses, or the Tour of Historic Homes!
Visit our “Donate” page on our website
This ad made possible by Melissa Greer
Historic homes have a story all their own. Proud supporter of Preservation Greensboro
Chairman’s Circle Diamond Award 2014, 2017, 2018, 2019 Chairman’s Circle Platinum Award 2013, 2015, 2016 Chairman’s Circle Gold Award 2010, 2011, 2012
336. 337 . 5233 MELISSA@MELISSAGREER.COM
84 O.Henry
preservation-half-brand.indd 1
ME LIS S A
GREER
REALTOR / BROKER, GRI, CRS
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
10/12/20 3:58 PM
Greensboro Satellite: 2517 Phillips Avenue, Greensboro, NC 27405
Headquarters: 3655 Reed Street, Winston-Salem, NC 27107
336.784.5770 www.SecondHarvestNWNC.org Established 1982
MISSION STATEMENT To provide food assistance through a network of partners, while educating and engaging our communities in the elimination of hunger and its causes.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER At Second Harvest Food Bank, whether you are helping us sort food or build large pallets of dry goods, or helping out in our gardens or offices, 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.
WHO WE SERVE Second Harvest is a vital community resource, providing food and services for a network of 430+ food assistance organizations serving Greensboro, Guilford County, and 17 other Northwest North Carolina counties. Each year, together, we provide 36+ million meals for neighbors in need.
KEY FACTS: • Second Harvest partners with 96 food assistance programs serving Guilford County. • 81% of the food provided by our Guilford County partners comes from Second Harvest. • Together, we provided more than 8.4 million meals for food insecure families last year.
This ad made possible by an anonymous supporter
Be the Reason A Parent Can Care for and Feed Their Child
FeedCommunityNOW.org The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 85
336.306.8710 email: Info@TriadHonorFlight.org www.TriadHonorFlight.org Established 2020
MISSION STATEMENT
HOW TO DONATE
Our mission is to honor veterans with a trip to Washington D.C. to visit the memorials created in their honor. WWII, Korea, Cold War and Vietnam are all now honored through flights.
Go to www.TriadHonorFlight.org and click on Donate. You can also use Venmo: @Triad-HonorFlight. Send checks to Triad Honor Flight, 7601 Pond Ct. Kernersville, NC 27284. To sponsor a veteran’s flight is $600 but any and all donations are appreciated.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
KEY FACTS:
Our first flight is scheduled for May 5, 2021. We can use volunteers with our fundraising efforts and will need an “army” of volunteers the week of the flight. Apply to be a Guardian (escort) for a veteran ($600).
WHO WE SERVE Veterans age 65 and older are encouraged to apply at www.TriadHonorFlight.org
• Locally, 1,300 WWII veterans were honored from 2009-2011 and the last flight was 11-11-11 (Veteran’s Day). • We are extremely excited to bring the flights back and honor all veterans in the Triad. Over 250,000 veterans have been honored nationally. We will have at least one flight per year starting 2021. • Help us send them on ONE LAST MISSION. • All veterans fly for free.
This ad made possible by Tire Max Total Car Care
Honoring all American Veterans
TIREMAXNC.COM Tire Max at Kings Crossing, Stokesdale • Tire Max of High Point, High Point • Oak Hollow Tire Max, High Point • Tire Max Summerfield, Summerfield • 336-441-8066
86 O.Henry
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
1500 Yanceyville Street, Greensboro, NC 27405 336.378.6600 www.UnitedWayGSO.org Established 1922
MISSION STATEMENT Improve lives and create thriving communities by mobilizing and uniting the caring power of Greensboro, North Carolina.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER To learn about volunteer opportunities, follow us on social media, drop by our office, give us a call, or visit www.UnitedWayGSO.org/Volunteer.
HOW TO DONATE www.UnitedWayGSO.org/Donate, Text “Greensboro” to 41444, Cash App $UWGG, or drop off a check – we accept it all!
WHO WE SERVE • We serve families and individuals living with low incomes in the greater Greensboro community. • Through our network of strategic partners and at our Family Success Centers, people receive a unique, unbroken chain of services that help them get on a path out of poverty.
KEY FACTS: • Did you know? In the greater Greensboro community, there are over 57,000 people living in poverty. In Greensboro alone, 1 in 4 kids are living in poverty. • The federal government defines poverty as a family of four earning $25,750/ year. Many four member households need to earn around $60,000 to meet only their most basic needs without assistance. • Thanks to the generous support of donors, and our completely volunteer-led grant funding process, last year we supported 59 holistic initiatives and programs that helped over 56,000 people.
This ad made possible by TowneBank
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 87
shops • service • food • farms
support locally owned businesses
GIVE THANKS FOR YOUR LOCAL BUSINESS
“I couldn’t be happier with my renters, or my rental income” Brantley White Burkely Rental Homes client
There are times when it’s smarter to lease than to sell your home. Call me when you think you’re there! I’ll be pleased to discuss how Burkely Rental Homes can help you.
Silk and Cotton Mock Turtlenecks
A Store for All Seasons and Reasons
GORDON’S MENSWEAR 3712 F Lawndale Dr. Greensboro, NC 27455 Next to the Fresh Market
Mon.-Sat. 10am - 6pm 336.286.2620
www.gordonsmenswearltd.com
Carriage House Antiques & Home Decor 336.373.6200
2214 Golden Gate Drive Greensboro, NC Monday-Friday 10-5 • Saturday 10-4
Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.
shops • service • food • farms
support locally owned businesses
Arts
& CULTURE A COZY COTTAGE OF YOUR OWN
1 INDEPENDENCE COURT
Just what you have been waiting for......fabulous kitchen renovation by Kathy Cross of Southern Cross Homes with all new appliances and expansive kitchen island, open floor plan, recent master bath renovation with soaking tub, fresh paint everywhere, 9’ ceilings on the main level, hardwood floors on first and second levels, beautiful fenced brick patio and backyard with space for multiple gardens, detached 2 car garage with upstairs bonus room/artist studio, an abundance of light - very open and airy feel. Originally built by Gary Jobe within walking distance of the park in Kirkwood.
Mitzie.Weatherly@allentate.com | 336.314.5500
Mitzie Weatherly O.Henry 89
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.
Celebrating with you
AT HOME
Life & Home
this Thanksgiving. Our caregivers make it possible.
1515 W Cornwallis Drive, Suite 100 Greensboro, NC 27408
Phone: 336.285.9107 Fax: 336.285.9109
email: info@1stChoiceHomeCareInc.com
Your Greensboro Connection
WE HAVE MOVED!
COME SEE US IN OUR NEW LOCATION Battle Crossing 3741-E Battleground Avenue 336-292-9396 • 336-288-8011
Walt Maynard 336.215.9767
Danny Anderson 336.247.2735
Scott Aldridge 252.531.7456
Kelli Young 336.337.4850
Bobbie Maynard
Bobbie Maynard, Broker, Realtor, CRS, GRI, CSP, Green
Phone: 336.215.8017 | www.Bobbiemaynard.com
90 O.Henry
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
As seen in: Biltmore House, Asheville Greensboro News & Record
The Original Representational Epoxy Artist ARTIST Carol Kaminski • HOURS by appointment only RESIN classes available 4912 Hackamore Rd, Greensboro, 27410 704-608-9664 • www.ResinateArt.com
Arts & Culture
Resinate Art
24th Annual Holiday Benefit for children who have special developmental needs.
Due to COVID-19 restrictions, Festival of Trees will be a reserved admission event. Patrons MUST reserve the day and time slot of their visit. For complete details and to reserve your spot, visit www.FestivalofTrees.org.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 91
Comprehensive and Attentive Care
Ready for the Next 100 Years As Hanes Lineberry continues our 101st year, we are excited about the future.
Fall in Love with your Smile
Gill Family Dentistry Serving the Triad Area
306 Muirs Chapel Rd., STE C | Greensboro, NC 27410
GillDentistryTriad.com 336.299.1379
We’re here to serve all your needs: • Live streaming memorials • On-site chapel & reception hall • Strong social media platform
To learn more, please contact us at 336.272.5157 www.haneslineberryfuneralhomes.com
515 N. Elm St. Greensboro, NC 27401
Practicing Commercial Real Estate by the Golden Rule Bill Strickland, CCIM Commercial Real Estate Broker/REALTOR 336.369.5974 | bstrickland@bipinc.com
www.bipinc.com
ASHMORE RARE COINS & METALS Since 1987
• 30+ years as a major dealer of Gold, Silver, and Coins • Most respected local dealer for appraising and buying Coin Collections, Gold, Silver, Diamond Jewelry and Sterling Flatware • Investment Gold, Silver, & Platinum Bullion
Visit us: www.ashmore.com or call 336-617-7537 5725 W. Friendly Ave. Ste 112 • Greensboro, NC 27410 Across the street from the entrance to Guilford College
• Funerals, cremations & memorial services • Comprehensive pre-planning services
6000 Gate City Blvd. Greensboro, NC 27407
Gobble, Gobble come Needlepoint with us!
Sub-Zero, the preservation specialist. Wolf, the cooking specialist. You’ll find them only at your local kitchen specialist.
SHOP LOCAL FOR BEST PRICES
1614-C WEST FRIENDLY AVENUE GREENSBORO, NC 27403 336-272-2032 stitchpoint@att.net
We Service What We Sell & Offer Personal Attention 336-854-9222 • www.HartApplianceCenter.com
2201 Patterson Street, Greensboro, NC (2 Blocks from the Coliseum) Mon. - Fri.: 9:30am - 5:30 pm Sat. 10 am - 2 pm • Closed Sunday
Specializing in doggie happiness
WE OFFER: DOG DAYCARE • SLEEPOVERS • GROOMING • WEBCAMS
705 Battleground Ave.
www.DogDaysGreensboro.com
MONDAY-FRIDAY: 10:00-6:00 SATURDAY: 10:00-4:00
Business & Services
You won’t find them in ordinary kitchens. Or at ordinary stores.
modern furniture made locally
511 S Elm St. | Greensboro NC 27406 | 336.370.1050 areamod.com
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
DOWNTOWNGREENSBORO.ORG
O.Henry 93
Handmade
In House
121-A WEST MCGEE ST. GREENSBORO, NC 27401 336.763.9569 WWW.JACOBRAYMONDJEWELRY.COM
VIVID i n t e r i o r s
We strive to provide complete care for our patients.
Preventive & Wellness Care • Hospitalization Medicine / Surgery • Dentistry Laser Therapy • And more ...
Dr. John Wehe
interior design • art • furniture • vintage • textiles • home accessories
513 s elm st , greensboro 336.265.8628 www.vivid-interiors
94 O.Henry
120 W. Smith Street • Greensboro NC | 336.338.1840
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
DOWNTOWNGREENSBORO.ORG
501 State Street Greensboro, 27205 •336.274.4533 • YamamoriLtd.com 10:00-5:30 Monday-Friday • 10:00-3:00 Saturday and Sunday by Appointment
Unique Shoes! Beautiful Clothes!! Artisan Jewelry!!! Shoes Sizes 6 - 11 • Clothes Sizes S - XXL
507 State Street, Greensboro NC 27405 336-275-7645 • Mon - Sat 11am - 6pm www.LilloBella.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro
O.Henry 95
O.Henry Ending
Don’t Forget to Write
By Ruth Moose
As a child during World
War II, I lived with my grandparents on a farm near Cottonville in Stanly County, North Carolina. With gas rationing, there was no traffic and so quiet we could hear the mailman long before we could see the cloud of dust his car made on the unpaved road. In a world turned upside down and torn apart, mail was the only thing we could count on.
We lived for the mail. It meant the world to us. We had the radio and a weekly newspaper, also delivered by the mailman. But letters told us the people we loved were safe. At least for the time being. My grandparents’ four children were in four corners of the world: my father stationed in France; my Uncle Tom a navigator with the Army Air Corps in London; my Aunt Pearl, an Army nurse, was with MacArthur’s troops in the Philippines; and my Uncle Edgar, who had just graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill with a masters in physics was in Washington, D.C., and alternately, Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Each of them wrote a letter home every week. You could depend on it. And my grandparents wrote back. When two weeks went by without a letter from her daughter, my grandmother was more than worried, fearing the worst. She sent inquiries. Discovered my aunt was in this country, hospitalized with a mental and physical breakdown. But she was alive and recovered. The mail not only brought letters each week but also a brand new, fresh copy of my grandmother’s favorite reading, The Saturday Evening Post. That was her recreation, her relaxation, her reward at the end of each long, worried day. On special occasions the mailman might bring a box of Whitman’s Sampler, picked up from a PX somewhere I’m sure. We rationed a single chocolate a day as long as it lasted. The mailman also brought books! My aunt in D.C. was a librarian and regularly mailed me books, books that were read aloud to me
96 O.Henry
until I taught myself to read. Poems from A Child’s Garden of Verses, The Adventures of Peter Rabbit and others. Books were magic doors to a larger world and gave me a lifelong love of the printed word, of learning, of no greater pleasure than reading. When the war was over, they all came home, wounded in body, mind and spirit, but thankfully alive. They continued the weekly letters home and to each other the rest of their lives. After my grandfather died, the farm was sold and my grandmother lived three months at a time with her four children: my aunt a school nurse in New Jersey; my uncle on the faculty at N.C. State in Raleigh; Uncle Edgar teaching at Georgia State; and my family in Albemarle. Always letters back and forth, specialty cards for all the occasions. Cards to be kept and displayed on mantels and dressers. Cards to be re-enjoyed for days and weeks following. Not the same as today’s emails, a blink here and gone forever. I remember getting an e-condolence card after my husband’s death and crying in frustration. If the sender really wanted to send some sympathy, they could have bought a card, or written a note, signed, addressed, stamped and mailed it. An e-condolence was a quick click and no more thought than that. Obligation over. Sadly none of the old letters survived. Tossed in the purging of estates after a death; nieces, nephews, cousins, grandchildren who saw them as only pieces of paper, not family history. During the pandemic, I’ve being purging files, boxes from storage and attics. Deep in one box I was amazed to find my letters to my husband, who was then my boyfriend during our four college years. He had somehow, somewhere, kept them and they had survived many moves, packing and unpacking. Don’t tell me emails could do that. Not in a million years. Yellowed and with three-cent stamps, the letters tell the story of a summer romance that lasted over 50 years. I’ve been reading, alternately laughing and crying. We were so young. So 1950s crazy and scared. The question is: Will my sons want these letters? My grandchildren? I can only hope. OH Ruth Moose taught Introduction to Writing Short Fiction at UNCChapel Hill for 15 years. Her students have since published New York Times Bestsellers and are getting Netflixed. She recently returned to her roots in the Uwharrie Mountains. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR
For our family, the mailman was more than just a welcome sight — he was a lifeline
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