O.henry January 2017

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Due Diligence

Katie L. Redhead

Here’s to another great Year!

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Not everyone could spot the family resemblance. Fortunately, Dr. Jenkins did. A lot is shared in Donna Owen’s family. Brown eyes, family recipes and ‌ liver disease. Dr. John Jenkins, an internist with Cone Health Medical Group, believes that sometimes the last thing you want to give a patient is a diagnosis. Because when you do, you stop considering other possibilities. Without that belief, Dr. Jenkins may never have uncovered the link to liver disease that Donna shares with 15 members of her extended family.

Learn more about the bond of care formed between Donna and Dr. Jenkins at conehealth.com/stories

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January 2017 DEPARTMENTS 11 Simple Life By Jim Dodson 14 Short Stories 17 Doodad By Grant Britt 19 O.Harry By Harry Blair 21 Life’s Funny By Maria Johnson 23 Omnivorous Reader By Stephen Smith 27 Scuppernong Bookshelf 31 Papadaddy By Clyde Edgerton 32 Evolving Species By Grant Britt

FEATURES 49 Wintry Mix

Poetry by Sam Barbee

50 Magna Carta Man By Jim Moriarty

“Little old bookbinder” Don Etherington is a man who has held — and preserved — history with his hands

56 Our Shining City on the Hill

By Billy Ingram High Point’s wildcat of an economy keeps purring, but the city struggles to up its curb appeal

66 A Man of Moral Fiber By Maria Johnson

On the fortieth anniversary of his Rug Business, High Point’s Zaki Khalifa shares the story of an American Dream that almost wasn’t

70 A Thoroughly Modern Love Story By Cynthia Adams Finding the unexpected in High Point’s Emerywood

83 January Almanac By Ash Alder Slicing the ginger and of the Fire Rooster

37 Vine Wisdom By Robyn James

38 In The Spirit By Tony Cross

41 True South By Susan Kelly

43 Birdwatch

By Susan Campbell

45 Wandering Billy By Billy Eye

84 Arts Calendar 105 GreenScene 111 Accidental Astrologer By Astrid Stellanova

112 O.Henry Ending By Terri Kirby Erickson

Cover photograph and

photograph this page by Amy Freeman

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January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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M A G A Z I N E

Volume 7, No. 1 “I have a fancy that every city has a voice.” 336.617.0090 1848 Banking Street, Greensboro, NC 27408 www.ohenrymag.com Jim Dodson, Editor • jim@thepilot.com Andie Stuart Rose, Art Director • andie@thepilot.com Nancy Oakley, Senior Editor • nancy@ohenrymag.com Lauren Coffey, Graphic Designer Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer CONTRIBUTING EDITORS Cynthia Adams, Harry Blair, Maria Johnson CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Sam Froelich CONTRIBUTORS Ash Alder, Sam Barbee, Grant Britt, Susan Campbell, Tony Cross, Clyde Edgerton, Terri Kirby Erickson, Billy Ingram, Robyn James, Susan Kelly, Sara King, Jim Moriarty, Ogi Overman, Stephen Smith, Astrid Stellanova EDITOR AT LARGE David Claude Bailey

O.H

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Lisa Bobbitt, Sales Assistant 336.617.0090, ohenryadvertising@thepilot.com Brad Beard, Graphic Designer Lisa Allen, 336.210.6921 • lisa@ohenrymag.com Amy Grove, 336.456.0827 • amy@ohenrymag.com Jaime Wortman, 336.707.3461 • jaime@ohenrymag.com CIRCULATION Darlene Stark, Circulation Director 910.693.2488 SUBSCRIPTIONS 336.617.0090 ©Copyright 2017. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. O.Henry Magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

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January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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Saving George

Simple Life

An anchor of enchantment in the front yard By Jim Dodson

His name is George. That’s what

we’ve taken to calling him, at any rate. George is old and bent, weathered by age. We think he might be pushing 100 years old.

I’ve known George most of my life. Grew up just two doors from down from where he lived but I never paid him much notice until recently. That’s because George is an old tree, Crataegus phaenopyrum, we think, based purely by his leaf pattern and bark. His common name is a Washington hawthorn — hence the nickname we’ve bestowed on him. But here’s where the sweet mystery deepens. According to my tree identification book, Washington hawthorns are relatively small flowering trees — in some cases, shrubs — that produce early and abundant white flowers in the spring and vivid red berries that last into winter, a bounty for winter birds, especially cedar waxwings. They’re also reportedly poisonous to dogs, which could be a problem, since Ajax, our shameless golden retriever, will eat anything put before him. On the other hand, he’s one lazy brute, unlike his Greek namesake, and not much for climbing trees. So Ajax is probably safe. We moved into the neighborhood just before Thanksgiving. On our first day in the Corry house, I stopped to admire George. He was magnificently arrayed with gold and crimson leaves, like Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. The neighborhood is famous for its old graceful hardwoods, many of them well over a century old. George is clearly one of the neighborhood patriarchs. That’s why I paused to admire him the afternoon we moved in, suddenly remembering him from my childhood, making a mental note to free him from the tangle of English ivy vines that had grown around him like something from a fairy tale. In a year of small wonders, it seemed wonderfully providential that we were moving into the Corry house, 100 feet from where I grew up. The Corry boys were my pals growing up. Their parents, Al and Mama Merle, were my parents’ good friends. Big Al was one of Greensboro’s leading builders, and the house he built for his wife and four kids — a gorgeous wooden bungalow with flowing rooms, parquet floors and host of innovative design touches — was one of the first houses built in Starmount Forest after the war. For more than a year, my wife, Wendy, and I had quietly scouted houses throughout Greensboro. Then one Sunday after I heard the Corry house was for sale, we went for a look. I didn’t let on that the Corry house was always my favorite in the neighborhood. But after she walked through it, on the drive home to the Sandhills, Wendy quietly announced, “I think that’s the house. It just feels like us.” The Corry kids, all four of them, were thrilled to hear their homeplace was being purchased by a Dodson. Each quickly got in touch to offer their enthusiastic congratulations. The Corrys were the most self-sufficient clan I ever knew, natural builders and

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

people full of life. Chris, the oldest boy, actually lived in a tepee with his bride as they built their own dream home west of Greensboro. The Corry boys hunted, fished and could build anything with their hands. They were also crazily musical, playing stringed instruments of every sort. In 1969, son Craig and I made the Greensboro Teenage Talent Show playing guitars and singing Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice.” We called ourselves Alfred and James. Big Al informed us that Alfred and James needed something “extra” to win. “You boys need a shtick to impress the judges,” he said. I asked him why we needed a stick on stage. Big Al laughed. He hailed from Buffalo, New York. “That’s a Yiddish word,” he explained. “It means a comic gimmick, something to make people laugh. First rule of vaudeville — always leave ’em laughing.” He suggested that we add kazoos to the act. We thought that was the silliest thing we’d ever heard, but Mama Merle bought us a couple anyway. The director of the show asked us to play a second song while the judges made up their minds. So we did an encore — with guitars and kazoos. The audience gave us a standing ovation. We wound up in third place. I still have the program. TV host Lee Kinard invited Alfred and James to come on his Good Morning Show at Christmas. We worked up a couple of Christmas carols and did the second one with kazoos. The shtick worked wonders. Craig grew up to marry Marcy Madden, his first girlfriend from just down the block. He became a veterinarian. Britt, his little brother, was a musical prodigy who became a music teacher and recently signed on to direct the music for Horn in the West. Ginger, the oldest and only girl, became a lawyer. Like his papa, Chris was a jack-of-all-trades, a born builder of almost anything. He now sports a full-grown gray beard and knows his late mama’s house better than anyone alive because he built much of it with his father and took care of the place until Merle passed away a year or so ago. His wife, Fenna, told me in an email that Mama Merle and Big Al would both be so happy that a Dodson kid had come home again to purchase their house. From faraway California, Ginger wrote that she hoped we would have many happy years living there. Which brings me back to George. A week after we got settled, we took ladders, handsaws and a hatchet and liberated George from those wretched English ivy vines. The job took two afternoons, but George looked considerably more at ease, maybe even grateful. My nephew came and helped me clean out the area around his base, where I’ll soon plant Spanish bluebells and English daffodils for the spring. I also planted six young trees, three Japanese maples I’d raised from sprouts and a trio of river birches like the three I planted once in Maine. They stood in front of the post and beam house I built on a forested hilltop surrounded by birch and hemlock. The beams were rough-sawn Northern fir, with pegged heartwood pine flooring salvaged from a 200-year-old New Hampshire barn. On cold but sunny winter days, whenever the sun streamlining through that house’s large south-facing windows January 2017

O.Henry 11



Simple Life

warmed the beams, you could hear gentle sighs and faint cracking sounds as the wood relaxed, expanded, exhaled. That peaceful sound told me something I guess I’ve always known. That wood — trees — are something more than just fellow living and breathing organisms. They are enchanted. Maybe this explains why one of my first memories of life is of sitting on a low limb in a sprawling live oak next to our house by Greenfield Lake, in Wilmington, waiting for my father to come home from the newspaper where he worked. I was forever climbing trees, much to my mother’s chagrin, and sometimes falling out of them. My dad liked to call me Mowgli, the orphaned boy from Kipling’s Jungle Book, one of the first books I ever read on my own. Come to think of it, the books I loved early on all seemed to have extraordinary trees in them — Greek and Roman mythology, the Tarzan books, almost every fairy tale I ever read contained forests that were either forbidden or simply enchanted, home to magic creatures, wizards, evil queens and noble woodsmen. And why not? Plato and the ancient Greeks believed souls resided in sacred groves of trees, and the Buddha found enlightenment sitting beneath a fig. The Egyptian Book of the Dead mentions groves of sycamores where the departed find eternal bliss, and the Bible speaks of a Tree of Knowledge that altered paradise. The Irish word “druid” derives simply from a Celtic word for oak, while in India to this day people seeking miracles hang family rags on trees to make shrines to the gods. My Baptist grandmother always insisted that the dogwood tree with its perfect white petals and crimson heart was a symbol for Christ’s resurrection, and showed me the old Appalachian story to prove it. The Glastonbury thorn, holds English lore, is a hawthorn tree that is said to have sprouted miraculously from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea when he traveled to Britain after Jesus’ crucifixion. The hawthorn blooms at Christmas, and the queen is traditionally brought one of its blooms with her tea on Christmas morning. In broader English lore, wherever hawthorns and oaks reside together, kindly fairies supposedly live as well. I do hope that much holds true even if, come springtime, the old tree I liberated turns out to be something quite different. There’s an old saying that an optimist is someone who plants a tree he may never live long enough to sit under. That’s probably true for the six young trees I planted around George. But come spring, home at last, I plan to sit under George when those bluebells and daffodils bloom. OH

Don’t get too comfortable seeing our sign in your yard, it won’t be there for long.

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Contact editor Jim Dodson at jim@thepilot.com. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

January 2017

O.Henry 13


Short hort St Stories ries Cool Beans!

Or rather, hot beans, at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market (501 Yanceyville Street), which presents the sixth annual Chili Challenge on January 28th. From 8 a.m. to noon, teams of local chefs and market vendors square off with their combinations of beans and sauces, ranging from mild to fire-breathing hot. Their mission? To use a variety of local produce and pasture-raised meats (vegetarian entries excepted) that win your vote. What’s in it for you? Takeout, along with the recipes . . . and a full belly. Info: (336) 373-2402 or greensborofarmersmarket.org.

Olé Smoke!

And where there’s smoke there’s fire — as in, the fires of love, passion and jealousy of the ill-fated love triangle in Georges Bizet’s Carmen. On January 13th and 15th, Greensboro Opera presents the ever-popular opus at UNCG Auditorium (408 Tate Street). Its wide appeal is one reason the company is staging the work, says Artistic Director David Holley. “Also, we want to vary our repertoire,” he adds, especially after presenting lighter fare —Daughter of the Regiment and Cinderella — in previous seasons. Heading up the cast is Metropolitan Opera’s mezzo-soprano Sandra Piques Eddy in the title role of the gypsy seductress and baritone David Pershall as the bullfighter, Escamillo. Tenor Dinyar Vania (known to local audiences as Cavaradossi in Piedmont Opera’s recent staging of Tosca) assumes the role of the long-suffering Don José. Varied casting is also part of Holley’s mission; “I like to bring the best vocal talent to Greensboro and combine it with the best North Carolina has to offer.” So come, all you would-be toreadors and gypsies: Love awaits! Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or greensboroopera.org.

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January 2017

Three Outta Four

Most Piedmont gardeners would agree: We’ve literally struck pay dirt, living in an area that has three growing seasons out of four. But how do you get the most out of the temperate conditions that Nature has so generously bestowed? Answer: Have a plan and consider succession planting. With the help of the Guilford County chapter of the N.C. Cooperative Extension (3309 Burlington Road) and Master Gardener Jeanne Aller, you can plot your plots at the January 19 seminar, “Planning the 3-Season Vegetable Garden.” Bring a pencil and paper and plenty of imagination to assure the bounty that will flourish on your own South Forty. To register: go.ncsu. edu/2017demogardeneducation.

Mega Mashup

Visual arts, dance, music, theater and comedy — on one stage? Nope, it’s not a three-ring circus, but Artrageous. The touring show, which comes to the High Point Theatre on January 14th (220 East Commerce Avenue) defies categorization with its melding of media. While singers perform, say, a Broadway tune, or a classic rock or Top 40 song, hoofers give a physical interpretation to it, as a painter creates a masterpiece to the beat; another number might incorporate a light show or standup comedy. Whatever the outcome, expect color, pizzazz, lights, cameras and lots of action. Tickets: (336) 887-3001 or highpointtheatre.com.

Happy Trails to You

The holidays may be over, but walking in a winter wonderland is just getting underway, thanks to the Greensboro Parks and Recreation department’s Winter Hike Series. If you missed the December 3rd trek along Reedy Fork Creek on the Laurel Bluff Trail, no worries. You can ring in the New Year on January 1 at 11 a.m. by intersecting the abandoned Atlantic & Yadkin Railroad bed hiking along the Nat Green Trail that offers unobscured views of Lake Brandt this time of year. On February 4, begin your hike near Strawberry Road and cross Lake Brandt via tressel on Piedmont Trail, which ends at Bur-Mil Park. Finally on March 4, loop the loop at Lake Brandt via the Palmetto and Nat Green Trail, with unusual geological features and a variety of plants and critters. Be sure to dress warmly, pack a lunch and plenty of H2O. Participation is limited, so call (336) 373-3741 for tickets or visit www.greensboro-nc.gov/lakes. The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Catch the Drifts

HIROSHIGE, FURUGAWA KIBA, 1856, WOODBLOCK PRINT ON PAPER, 14 1/8 X 9 3/4 IN. GIFT OF DR. LENOIR C. WRIGHT, 1998.

There’s still time to appreciate the stillness and beauty and the winter season — inside. Two months into its run, In Falling Snow: Japanese Prints from the Lenoir C. Wright Collection will continue to light up Gallery 6 at Weatherspoon Art Museum (500 Tate Street) through February 26. The exhibition draws from the museum’s holdings of woodblock prints reflecting the vibrant life of 18thcentury Edo (modern-day Tokyo) and consists of colorful, linear images that capture the quiet of a snowfall, the sting of cold air and the icy brilliance of starry winter nights. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

Fin-ishing School

Maybe they read too much Hans Christian Andersen as children, or saw the 1984 flick Splash one time too many; or perhaps they have an addiction to Chicken of the Sea tuna, or maybe they, er, harbor, a Neptune complex. Whatever the reasons, for the second year, would-be mermaids, mermen and mer-children from around the world answer the siren call of N.C. Mermania on January 20 and 21 at Greensboro Aquatic Center (1921 West Gate City Boulevard). Like the performers at Weeki Watchee Springs, Florida, these enthusiasts dressed as half-humans, half-fish — some very elaborately — convene for water safety programs, kids’ story times, underwater photo ops and more. Most come for the sheer fun of playing out a fantasy, others to hone their skills as potential performers or to call attention to the ecology of the world’s oceans. So check out the spectacle where reality meets make-believe, and if you’re brave enough, don a fin and get your Esther Williams on. Tickets: ncmermania.com.

Pine Women and Song

And art, film and just about anything that sprouted from the imaginations of “women creatives,” as Anna Cone describes the muses for the inaugural issue of her and cousin Laurie Cone’s art magazine, Pine. Based in New York, the Greensboro natives launched the hefty, 144-page, ad-free tome last month at Scuppernong. With the subtitle “Brazen,” the publication salutes daring female artists including filmmaker Chantal Akerman, rock ’n’ roll pioneer Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Turkish artist Burçak Bingöl and a dozen more trailblazers. Expect more of the unexpected from subsequent issues of Pine, whose ethos, explains Laurie in the editor’s note, holds that “unabashed is beautiful, unretouched is brave, facades are cowardly, a printed piece beats an online piece, and talent shines.” Hear! Hear! Info: pine-mag.com.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Ogi Sez Ogi Overman

Generally the best antidote for the post-holiday blahs is a healthy dose of live music among friends. But this January, I’ve still got a case of the post-election blues, so I think I’ll make mine a double. Bottoms up.

• January 5, O.Henry Hotel: The Thursday jazz series gets 2017 off to a rousing start with the enchanting Carrie Marshall. The Raleigh chanteuse will raise the already high bar even higher. It’s her first time in but I promise you it won’t be her last. • January 6, Haw River Ballroom: If Donna the Buffalo can’t pull you out of your funk, there’s a chance you should seek professional help. As the organizers of Shakori Hills, clearly this merry band knows how to throw a party. • January 12, Cone Denim Entertainment Center: You may know Aaron Lewis as the frontman for post-grunge rockers Staind. But after seven albums and five charttopping singles, Lewis has morphed into a bona fide country singer. He’s probably not mainstream Nashville, but that is actually to his credit. • January 14, Carolina

Theatre: Time to get “In The Mood,” boys and girls. Big band swing is now into its third generation of aficionados, and the biggest of the big bands, the Glenn Miller Orchestra, is still leading the way. A fourth generation awaits.

• January 21, High Point Theatre: The group that is synonymous with ’60s folk music is Peter, Paul and Mary. While Mary Travers died in 2009, Peter Yarrow is carrying on the tradition. A master storyteller as well as vocalist and guitarist, Yarrow is the folkie we all wish we could be. January 2017

O.Henry 15


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Doodad

Alive and Kickin’ For The Grand Ole Uproar, rock never stopped rolling

PHOTOGRAPH BY ALEX FORSYTH, LOGO BY CHADD MYERS

“W

e’re trying to make rock ’n’ roll,” The Grand Ole Uproar’s Josh Watson says. That unruly beast has been ailing in recent years, but fortunately there’s still some up-and-coming musicians willing to keep rock off life support, standing it up on its hind legs and roaring. But the Greensboro band’s singer/guitarist/composer feels that term and that sound aren’t fashionable now. “It has to be called Americana, or something. I feel like rock ’n’ roll is not a cool term now.” But rock never was in fashion. It was always rebellious music, always looked down on, and that, as well as its raucous presentation, was a badge of honor for those who played and lived it. The Grand Ole Uproar upholds that tradition with pride, their scruffy look and sound a beacon for old souls looking to rock. Watson came to his craft after getting an M.F.A. in creative writing from UNCG in poetry. He knew he wanted to write songs when done with the academics, but got a severe case of intimidation from a recent Nobel Prize winner. “I’d stopped writing because [of] the anxiety of influence of Bob Dylan; you listen to his songs and you go, ‘Why bother? What could I do that’s any better than that?’” Watson got cured by the Grateful Dead. But it wasn’t their jamminess that attracted him. What he found so appealing was the eclectic influences they wove into their music. His first efforts were from 2008–10 in the alt-country acoustic duo One Horse Jethro with Emily Stewart. “I wanted to start a band that grew from Waylon Jennings, the Grateful Dead, early electric Dylan. I wanted to go electric.” Watson got his wish with the help of Britt “Snuzz” Uzzell (Majosha, Bus Stop, Ben Folds), who produced the band’s eponymous EP debut, The Grand Ole Uproar, in 2010 and their 2014 follow-up, Good Long Spell, with some vocal assistance from Whiskeytown’s Caitlin Cary. Over the last six years, the band’s been a musical collective with a constantly shifting roster. Watson and percussionist Jeremy Parker, who favors the cajón, a Peruvian wooden box drum, are mainstays. Bassist Danny Bayer, guitarist Sam Bailey and Wake Clinard, on lap steel, round out the current cast. “We draw from stuff that was made pretty much from 1978 on back,” Watson says. “The band has been like a countrified Steely Dan. I’ve tried to assemble bands on record I wanted to hear in my head: The Band, the Dead, Little Feat, Allen Toussaint, the Exile [on Main Street]–era Rolling Stones; a gumbo of all the ingredients of rock ’n’ roll.” OH — Grant Britt The Art & Soul of Greensboro

TWO VALENTINE WEEKENDS for COASTAL LOVEBIRDS

Birds of a Feather Join us Feb 10-12 or Feb 17-19 Celebrate at our beautiful coast with a cozy room, a waterfront view, creative cuisine, and a sunset cruise. This gift for your favorite “fine feathered friend” is really something to chirp about! Photo courtesy of Wilmington resident Jeffrey P. Karnes, named by audubon.org as one of 15 Awesome Instagram Accounts for Beautiful Bird Photos.

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O.Henry 17


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18 O.Henry

January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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O.Harry

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O.Henry 19


I’ve never been too comfortable on the sidelines. That’s why I chose Well•Spring. From the basketball court to business and community, I believe the more you put into life, the more you get out of it. I’m happy to have found teammates at Well•Spring that share my passion for life.

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20 O.Henry

January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Doe-eyed

Life’s Funny

The magic of stopping in the woods on a snowy evening

By Maria Johnson

I was walking my dog on the

greenway near Lake Brandt when I saw the ghostly animal from 50 yards away.

At first, I thought it was a dog, a big white dog getting a drink at the water’s edge. Then I noticed a group of whitetail deer stirring behind it. The white dog turned to leave with them. What the heck? The dog moved up the slope like a goat. Was it a goat? A dazzling white goat? The herd moved toward the greenway. The other-worldly creature drifted with them. Then I did something I haven’t done in a long time: I gasped in awe at something I’d never seen before and probably never will again. “Ree,” I whispered to my dog, whose attention was on the herd now. “It’s a white deer.” For a split-second, I felt like I was in a storybook, sharing space with a mythical creature like the white stag that represented unattainable knowledge in the King Arthur tales, or the white hart that carried good luck in The Chronicles of Narnia. So I did what anyone else would do when experiencing a magical moment: I whipped out my cell phone and commenced snapping pictures as the first of seven or eight brownish-gray deer skittered across the asphalt. Their snowy compatriot followed. Its gait was a little clumsy, but it kept up. The herd scaled a steep embankment. Ree and I ran up to where they’d crossed. He got a nose full of scent and strained to follow. We could hear them rustling on the other side of the ridge. “No, Ree. Let ’em go.” I stood there a few seconds. It was a cloudy, blustery afternoon. Several cyclists and runners had whizzed past me, but no one else was around at the moment. There was no one to turn to and marvel with, so I texted family and friends, zapping pics hither and yon. “Cool,” came one reply. “Looks like a goat,” said another. “I think it’s a doe,” read one. Later, I thought about the little white deer. I would call her Snow White because she shined so brightly in the woods. But I knew the thing that made The Art & Soul of Greensboro

her breathtaking would also make her vulnerable: to coyotes — and to hunters if she wandered outside of the city limits. I called the marinas at Lake Brandt and Lake Higgins. Had anyone else seen a white deer? Yes, about five years ago. There had been several sightings around both lakes, but they didn’t last very long. A ranger at Guilford Courthouse National Military Park said a white deer had lived around the park about ten years ago. He had no idea what happened to it. No one seemed to know the range of whitetail deer. It was time to talk to a deer geek. I sent my pictures to Leonard Rue, a naturalist who lives in Hardwood, New Jersey. Now, 90, Rue has written seven or eight books on deer. At one time, he was the most published wildlife photographer in North America. Rue said the white deer in my pictures was an albino, as opposed to a piebald deer, which is brown and white, or a leucistic deer, which is white or pale yellow with some pigment in the nose and eyes. He could tell that my deer was an albino by the humped back — the front legs were lower than the hindquarters. It was probably no more than a year old, he said. He couldn’t tell the gender. Albino deer are fairly rare, he said — probably appearing in no more than 1 in 5,000 births — and they usually don’t live very long. Their eyesight is not good. Their hearing is poor. Sometimes their legs are bowed, and if their hooves don’t meet the ground squarely, they can continue to grow and curl upward, leading to a condition called “ski hoof,” which makes it difficult to walk. Albino deer might last a year, maybe two, he said. Their range, if they were well fed, would be one or two square miles. I did a quick calculation: It was possible for Snow White to stay in the city, out of the sights of hunters. I asked Rue if he’d ever heard that shooting a white deer was bad luck, something a friend had passed on. “What is luck?” said the 90-year-old. “If you think something is bad luck, then it’s bad luck. If you think something is good luck, then it’s good luck.” Which goes along with what I’ve decided on the brink of this new year: that seeing Snow White was good luck for me; that she’ll have good luck for as long as she lives, however long that might be; and that running through the woods with her family on that windy winter afternoon, she felt the spark of joy that I felt when I saw her. OH If you’ve seen Snow White, email Maria Johnson at maria ncus@yahoo.com. January 2017

O.Henry 21


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January 2017

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The Omnivorous Reader

American Ulysses

Finding the uncommon in a common man By Stephen E. Smith

We’ve grown infamous for what we

should know but don’t. What’s more distressing is our proclivity for spouting “factoids,” assumptions that are repeated so often they become accepted as truth. Ask a reasonably well-educated person what he or she knows about Ulysses S. Grant and you’ll probably hear that Grant was a drunken Civil War general and a president whose administration was tainted by scandal. Beyond that, you’re not likely to get much in the way of revelatory information.

Certainly we’re suffering no dearth of sources. Curious readers have access to Personal Memoirs of U.S. Grant — one of the finest memoirs written by an American — and recent biographies include Jean Edward Smith’s 2002 Grant and H.W. Brands’ 2013 The Man Who Saved the Union, lesser volumes which have done little to compensate for the general lack of knowledge regarding a man who rose in seven years from a clerk in a leather goods store to commander of all Union forces in the Civil War to a two-term president of the United States. As president, Grant may not be as obscure and maligned as James Buchanan or Andrew Johnson, but he has nonetheless slipped from memory, and most of what remains in our collective awareness are vague misconceptions and flawed characterizations. With American Ulysses: A Life of Ulysses S. Grant, Ronald C. White offers new insights into the life of the 18th president of the United States. Whereas Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer William McFeely stated emphatically in his 2002 biography of Grant: “I am convinced that Ulysses Grant had no organic, artistic, or intellectual specialness,” White finds much to admire, basing his observation on Grant’s interior life, his intense love for his wife and children, his fondness for the theater and novels, and his loyalty to his friends, not a few of whom led him into the ill-conceived schemes that tarnished his second term as president. “I discovered that Grant’s life story has so many surprising twists and turns, highs and lows, as to read like a suspense novel,” White writes. “His nineteenth-century contemporaries knew his story well. They offered him not simply admiration but affection. In their eyes he stood with Washington and Lincoln.” Indeed, Grant was held in high regard by his countrymen — and by ordinary people around the world. But McFeely’s critical judgment of Grant as an unexceptional man isn’t without justification. White’s account of Grant’s early life reveals no hint of exceptionalism, and his years as a young Army officer The Art & Soul of Greensboro

and his subsequent sojourn as a hardscrabble farmer offered no indication that he’d rise to general of the Army of the United States, the first non-brevet officer to hold the rank since Washington. Moreover, his terms as president were marked by the best of intentions regarding Reconstruction, civil rights and Native American assimilation. By contemporary standards, dismal though they may be, Grant’s presidential years were only vaguely tarnished by the misconduct of trusted associates. Readers who believe themselves schooled in the facts of Grant’s life will encounter the occasional surprise. Grant, the general who would destroy the Southern economy and social construct, was, for a brief period, a slave owner. White points out the general’s views on “the peculiar institution” were pragmatic and demonstrate evolution of thought. In a letter to his abolitionist father, Grant wrote: “My inclination is to whip the rebellion into submission, preserving all constitutional rights. If it cannot be whipped in any other way than through a war against slavery, let it come to that legitimately.” A year later he would write to Elihu Washburne, a Republican congressman from Illinois and Lincoln supporter: “I was never an Abolitionist, not even what could be called anti-slavery, but I try to judge fairly & honestly and it became patent to my mind early in the rebellion that the North & South could never live at peace with each other except as one nation, and that without slavery.” Other miscalculations would prove to be more damaging to Grant’s wartime reputation, such as his General Order No. 11: “The Jews, as a class, violating every regulation of trade established by the Treasury Department . . . are hereby expelled . . . ” Although he claimed that a member of his staff had written the order, Grant was, according to White, solely responsible for an order that threatened to alienate the 7,000 Jews who served in the Union Army. The most oft-repeated factoid regards Grant’s alcohol consumption. (There’s no hard evidence that Lincoln ever said that if he knew Grant’s favorite brand of whiskey he’d send barrels of it to his other commanders.) White attributes rumors of Grant’s intemperance to jealous fellow officers. “Few had ever met Grant — but no matter. Once the label ‘drunkard’ became affixed to a man in the army, it could seldom be completely erased.” He also rejects the notion that Julia Grant was the “balm” for her husband’s drinking, citing evidence to support the claim that Grant rarely over-imbibed. Grant’s Civil War successes, from Fort Donelson to Appomattox, are adequately reprised in White’s narrative, and for hard-core Civil War enthusiasts there’s a plethora of histories that cover Grant’s military career in more January 2017

O.Henry 23


Omnivorous Reader

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24 O.Henry

January 2017

exhaustive detail. Where White’s biography shines is in evaluating Grant’s post-war conduct, falling decidedly on the side of Grant’s defenders. As president, Grant worked tirelessly for Native American assimilation and black civil rights. And he was temporarily successful in crushing the Ku Klux Klan, but was, in the long run, unsuccessful in changing attitudes that ruled the hearts and minds of Americans, especially Southerners. White also focuses on the Gold standard, the Annexation of Santo Domingo, the Virginius Affair, and the scandal surrounding the Gold Ring. Grant’s second term was dominated by economic upheaval, and White’s analysis of the Panic of 1873, precipitated by the failure of the brokerage house of Jay Cooke & Company to sell bonds issued by the Northern Pacific Railway, is thoroughly researched and placed in perspective. Unfortunately, Grant’s grasp of economics, on a personal level and as head of the federal government, was a weakness that plagued him into his old age when he was bankrupted by a smoothtalking swindler. But Grant always rallied when he found himself in difficult circumstances, and his finest achievement occurred when, suffering from incurable throat cancer, he transformed himself into a man of letters and wrote his two-volume personal memoir, restoring his family’s fortune. After Grant’s death, Julia received royalties amounting to $450,000 ($12 million in today’s dollars). The overriding value of White’s biography is in deepening our knowledge of a controversial American leader and the machinations that shaped his presidency. Forget about the notion that history repeats itself. It doesn’t. But an accurate understanding of the past is necessary to place the present in context. We have an obligation to possess more than a muddled, haphazard knowledge of the events that have shaped the moment. Given the tenor of the times, White probably won’t succeed in bringing “the enigmatic, inspiring, and complex story of American Ulysses . . . to the wider audience he deserves,” but if McFeely’s 2002 psychological appraisal of Grant leaves us with a decidedly negative impression — “. . . he (Grant) had forced himself out of the world of ordinary people by the most murderous acts of will and had doomed himself to spend the rest of his life looking for approval for having done so” — White instills in the reader a sense of pride in the political system that nurtured a leader possessed of uncommon tenacity and persistent moral courage. 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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January 2017

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Scuppernong Bookshelf

The End of the World as We Know It! Periods of change bring on the jitters — until we all feel fine again

The new year brings some changes

to the American landscape, and periods of change are often fraught with concern and fear. Of course books and literature provide plenty of opportunities to examine life on the brink of apocalypse, and sometimes offer ways to walk back from the precipice. And sometimes they dive right into the abyss.

Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness (Penguin Classics, $15) is a novel that goes over the edge. It was the source material for Francis Ford Coppola’s 1979 film Apocalypse Now, which aptly transports the corrosive colonialism at the heart of Conrad’s work to Vietnam. Also at the heart of Conrad’s work, as Nigerian novelist Chinua Achebe has noted, is a casual racism. Black British novelist Caryl Phillips said in 2003 that, “Achebe is right; to the African reader the price of Conrad’s eloquent denunciation of colonization is the recycling of racist notions of the ‘dark’ continent and her people.” The view from the brink has never been better than in Elizabeth Kolbert’s The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History (Picador, $16). Neither hopeless nor naively optimistic, Kolbert offers a pragmatic synthesis of how we know what we know about Earth’s major extinction events and what we can do to minimize the scope of impending mass die-offs in our time. Don’t be dissuaded by the dark subject matter. The next major extinction is coming, but we have the power to decide how extensive it will be. In this gap between denial and despair lies the hope for our species. This is required reading for

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

all realistic citizens of the 21st century. In Roberto Bolano’s 2666 (Picador, $23) more than 250 pages are devoted to the constant and random murders of women in Juarez, Mexico. The chapter is called, “ The Part About the Crimes.” Ostensibly concerned with the lives of a few Mexican policemen attempting to work with the murders as well as the messy details of their own lives, “The Part About the Crimes” eventually becomes an ongoing list of how the women were murdered, who they were, where their bodies were found, and how they were dressed when found. These murders are never solved (as they usually aren’t in Juarez and as many murders never are) but the fidelity and humanity with which Bolano ruthlessly documents each one builds to an experience in the reader of what political philosopher Hannah Arendt called “the banality of evil” — the slow accretion of horror that gradually overtakes a culture, becoming commonplace. A handy all-in-one guide to late 20th-century leftist apocalyptic thought is available in the collection of essays called Apocalypse Culture (Feral House, $15). The book is a reminder that doomsayers have long been part of American subculture, and this compendium juxtaposes reasoned looks at political culture at the breaking point alongside unhinged predictions of imminent demise. For a fundamentalist look at imminent demise, there’s LaHaye and Jenkins’ series of Left Behind books. For those of us left behind by the rapture, we can only hope that the books themselves are not left with us. For a much more tender look at the end of time, try Ted Mooney’s beautiful novel of atomic war, Traffic & Laughter (Vintage, $23): “You know what?” she said, meeting his gaze. “I’m not ready for this.” “Well, of course not,” he replied. In the context, the notion of preparedness made January 2017

O.Henry 27


Bookshelf him indignant. “Who’s ready to see their world go up in a cloud of smoke?” It seemed to Michael that she was smiling at him. “I wasn’t talking,” she said, “about the world.” No novelist moves us quite like Ted Mooney; his work is a reminder that all our lives are worth saving and art is one way we save lives. To the future! NEW RELEASES FOR JANUARY 2016 The publishing industry takes a bit of a break in January as it recovers from the holiday mad dash, but still a few notable books usher in 2017:

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January 3: Let Them Eat Chaos, by Kate Tempest (Bloomsbury, $16). Tempest’s powerful new narrative poem — set to music on her album of the same title — illuminates the lives of a single city street, creating an electric, humming human symphony. January 10: Washington’s Farewell: The Founding Father’s Warning to Future Generations, by John Avlon (Simon & Schuster, $27). George Washington’s Farewell Address was a prophetic letter from a parting friend to his fellow citizens about the forces he feared could destroy our democracy: hyper-partisanship, excessive debt and foreign wars. January 17: My Life, My Love, My Legacy, by Coretta Scott King (Henry Holt & Co., $30). The life story of Coretta Scott King, wife of Martin Luther King Jr., founder of the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change (The King Center) and singular 20thcentury American civil and human rights activist as told fully for the first time, toward the end of her life, to Rev. Dr. Barbara Reynolds. January 24: Reality Is Not What It Seems: The Journey to Quantum Gravity, by Carlo Rovelli (Riverhead Books, $26). Let’s hope he’s right! By the author of the bestselling Seven Brief Lessons on Physics.

Proceeds benefit Kids Path, a specialized program for medically fragile and grieving children offered by Hospice and Palliative Care of Greensboro.

January 31: The Blood of Emmett Till, by Timothy Tyson (Simon & Schuster, $27). Tyson, a North Carolina writer and African-American historian, is the author of Blood Done Sign My Name and a state treasure. Catch him at Scuppernong Books on February 6 at 7 p.m. OH

Learn more at www.corksforkidspath.org or 336.621.2500.

The Scuppernong Bookshelf was written by Shannon Jones, Brian Lampkin and Steve Mitchell.

28 O.Henry

January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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Papadaddy

Two Gents on a Porch

Another overheard conversation at Rosehaven Assisted Living in rural North Carolina

By Clyde Edgerton

“How do you

ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR

control the climate, anyway?”

“That’s simple: The more you run air conditioning, the colder it gets. Air conditioning controls the climate indoors. That has an overall cooling effect out of doors too, because people used to keep their windows open and now they can’t. So now the air that used to cool houses can be used to cool the climate. It’s figured out with a climate formula. I think Ben Gore came up with it.” “But I keep hearing ‘global warming.’” “Very true, but air conditioning has been going on for what, over 60, 70 years. Cars heated up the air for about 50 years before air conditioning ever got started and then the climate started cooling down the Earth’s surface, especially in America. Air conditioning has now cooled down the early hot effect from cars.” “But they say that temperatures are hotter than ever.” “That’s because of airplanes. They started building great big airplanes with jet engines in the middle of the last century. Big engines spew out a lot of heat.” “What do the scientists say? I heard they were saying something.” “You mean ‘what do weathermen say?’ Those are the ones who know about how hot or cold it is. Scientists know about rocks and trees and chemicals and are usually just professors. I mean, why would you go to anybody but a weatherman to learn about the weather? It’s like why would you go to anybody but a cook to learn about how to cook? Common sense stuff.” “I guess if you did away with cars and airplanes, then the air conditioning could make global cooling. Yes, common sense. Maybe we can move into an era of common sense.” “Which had you rather have? Global warming or global cooling? Since we have a choice now.” “I don’t know. I don’t get around much anymore, so I guess I’d rather keep air conditioning and cut back on cars and airplanes.” “You know, I remember the times before air conditioning.” “Oh, yes. Me too. It’s hard to remember how we kept cool.” “You’d sweat, you’d get damp, and then the air from a fan would cool you down. Before electricity, my mama had a great big hand-held straw fan. You don’t see them anymore.” “You don’t see a lot of things anymore.” “Those were the good old days. No erectile dysfunction commercials.” “No commercials at all. I mean, you had commercials on the radio, maybe for Tide, but they were only every half hour or so.”

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

“Yeah. Those were the good old days. I remember in our little house we had this big old window fan planted in a window so that it sucked air out instead of blowing it in, and on hot summer nights you’d close every window in the house except for windows beside a bed, and that window fan would pull in cool night air, gentle like, and you’d sleep in just your underwear without a sheet. You’d have that cool night air gently pulled in, keeping you nice and cool, and you’re sleeping with night sounds instead of air conditioning sounds. Before morning, you’d need a sheet. I woke up more rested than I have since.” “I understand that President Trump is going to recommend opening up houses with the air conditioning on so that we can cool down global warming.” “Are you sure about that?” “Oh yeah. It was on the news. That’s what he’s hearing from his advisers.” “I’m glad Trump doesn’t drink like Bill Clinton did. Remember what Clinton’s nose looked like?” “You mean ‘looks like.’” “Yeah. My Uncle Pierce had a nose like that and he drank like a fish. But remember, we said we were not going to discuss politics.” “Sure. Right. But I’m not so sure letting air conditioning out of your house will stop global warming.” “But you can. I promise. Think about it. And there are all kinds of benefits. If we go that route, we burn more electricity; if we burn more electricity, we use up more coal, and that gives us more coal mining jobs, which means more coal transportation jobs, which means more jobs making soap. Presto. You kill several birds with one stone.” “Soap?” “You handle coal, you get dirty hands.” “What about a high electricity bill from all that air conditioning?” “That’s easy. You pay for your air conditioning with the money you save on taxes. It’s called the clean energy credit. Air conditioned air has all the nasty stuff conditioned out of it. It’s clean. Clean energy. Come on, man.” “Oh. Oh, I see.” “The future is so bright I have to wear sunglasses.” “I never thought about it that way. I don’t have any sunglasses.” “Well, you better get some.” OH Clyde Edgerton is the author of 10 novels, a memoir and most recently, Papadaddy’s Book for New Fathers. He is the Thomas S. Kenan III Distinguished Professor of Creative Writing at UNCW. January 2017

O.Henry 31


The Evolving Species

Rasslin’ Hitchcock Confessions of the ultimate fan

By Grant Britt

What a cool thing to get paid for:

throwing people around, talking trash about them and achieving fame for basically being a bully. For a 12-yearold, it was a great exposure to the job market. We’re talking wrestling — or in these parts, rasslin’— toiling in the squared circle, an arena for modern-day gladiators to strut their stuff, sharing blood, sweat and tears with an audience of starstruck kids and rowdy adults. Interactive before that term came into being, rasslin’ let you get to get your ya-yas out up close and in person, shouting at the bad guys and rooting for the good ’uns from a ringside seat.

John Hitchcock couldn’t figure out a way to make a living at this ancient-sportturned-raucous-theater, but he did manage to get involved — to a degree that most fans only dream about. He got to know some of the big stars, including Ric Flair and Arn Anderson, and even got some ring time as a bodyguard, actually taking hits from some of the renowned grapplers of the day. He didn’t get any formal training in the sport, getting a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in painting from Greensboro College instead. Then, he went back and got a teaching degree, but he found that things were rougher in the classroom than in the ring. “I’d love to be a teacher,” Hitchcock says. “But there’s no such thing as discipline.” So he went to work for a comic book store, putting in five and a half years at ACME comics before opening his own store, Parts Unknown, in 1989. But rasslin’ was still his first love, as the title of his store reflects: “That’s the way they always used to announce the masked rasslers,” Hitchcock says. “‘Ladies and gents, weight unknown, from parts unknown’ . . . and that’s where I got it from.”

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January 2017

Pro wrestling came to North Carolina in 1959 via WRAL-TV in Raleigh. It looked and sounded dangerous. Hosted in its infancy by local sports announcer and voice of the Wolfpack Ray Reeve, who always sounded as if he had just been resurrected and still had a throat full of graveyard dirt, the show was a brawling slugfest staffed with hulking bruisers who could talk smack as effortlessly as they could toss like-minded behemoths around. In ’64, promoter Jim Crockett brought the sport to Greensboro, with WGHP’s Charlie Harville as announcer. Championship Wrestling had a ten-year run here and changed John Hitchcock’s life. “There were a lot of guys,” Hitchcock says, then goes on to name a who’s who list of rasslin’s golden age heroes and villains: Rip Hawk/Swede Hanson, Weaver/Becker, the Bolos, the Infernos, Aldo Bogni, Bronko Lubich. Haystacks Calhoun, Nelson Royal, Tex McKenzie, Brute Bernard and Skull Murphy, Wahoo McDaniel. “All that stuff is not a blur, it’s just there was such an amazing cast of characters — and characters is the key word. Every one of them was very different, and very odd,” Hitchcock remembers. “I was attracted to the oddity of it and the humor of it. It made me just fall in love with it. The first time I saw it, I was like, ‘This is the coolest thing.’” So cool that many of us desperately wanted to be our newfound heroes and set about taunting our peers, trying out holds on siblings, schoolmates, casual acquaintances, or anybody small or young enough to have the misfortune of crossing our paths. And every week we were glued to the TV, soaking up more potentially deadly embraces and insults to share with unsuspecting opponents. The show, broadcast when Harville worked for WGHP, became a weekly ritual for Hitchcock. “I was addicted to it. Even when I was working as a bag boy, I would get off at 11 on Saturday, get home as soon as I could so I could watch the 11:30 thing after the news. I always kept up with it and if I had an extra buck, I’d go to the show. [It] became part of my heritage, in a way — everybody went, everybody knew about it.” But Hitchcock wanted more and worked himself up into a religious fervor to fulfill his ambition. “I sent a letter to [promoter Jim] Crockett, saying that I was a reverend in a small church and had a group of us [who] wanted to go to the show; could they please make sure we got in? They wrote me back a nice letter, The Art & Soul of Greensboro


The Evolving Species

said ‘Dear Rev. Hitchcock, we’d love to have your congregation.’ But I could only get three guys to go. My ‘church’ didn’t have a lot of followers.” The ruse, however, was successful, as Hitchcock recounts: “Crockett walked out and said, ‘We’re looking for Reverend Hitchcock and his followers,’ and I went, ‘We had a problem with the bus.’ We got to go in first, and they put us in the top of the bleachers in Raleigh and put us in like sardines, but we got in.” From the get-go, Hitchcock had a little inside help getting to know the rasslers he so idolized. His older brother Sparky was an usher at the Greensboro Coliseum, and one of his duties was bringing refreshments to the athletes — “drinks and oranges” as Hitchcock notes in his rasslin’ tribute book, Front Row Section D. Sparky also provided John with backstage glimpses of the participants and hipped him to some of the sport’s jargon. One of the first things he learned was how to identify the losers from their introductions. “Whenever they said ‘a wily veteran,’ he was gonna lose. And if it was a young guy, and if they said, ‘a young lion,’ he was gonna lose. Like a code. One guy’s up and coming, one guy’s fading out. They’re not gonna be players but they’re important to what’s going on.” In rasslin’ lingo, the opposing groups were the heels, who were the bad guys, and the baby faces, the good guys. “I used to cheer for the bad guys. There was just something about them. I always felt the bad guys were the guys that did all the work and all they got were boos and had drinks thrown on them, but without the bad guys there couldn’t be good guys.” Realizng early on the bad guys were much more entertaining, more humorous than the good guys, Hitchcock explains, “In the world of booking, the easiest way to make a baby-face guy is to create a heel that everybody hates. Then no matter who you put him against, they’re gonna cheer him to beat that guy up.” But Hitchcock didn’t just cheer for his favorites. He and some buddies started getting front row seats to the matches here and making signs to carry in and hold up during the contests. The signs reflected Hitchcock’s acerbic sense of humor and quickly got noticed by fans and rasslers alike. If you were ringside between 1984 and 1991, you saw Hitch: “I only missed two shows, and that was because of kidney failure,” Hitchcock says. “We were there on the front row, with our coats and ties and hats and sunglasses, stylin’ and profilin,’ cheering for the bad guys. And those guys would look forward to us; they were into it.” Arn Anderson was one of the bad guys Hitchcock admired, and he returned the favor. “I got lucky, got to meet Arn on a couple of occasions. He always remembered me because I was the guy with the hat in Greensboro holding up the signs The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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The Evolving Species

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and cheering for him.” He first met Anderson when a buddy called Hitchcock on a pay phone from the Chicago airport and told him “You won’t believe this, but right beside me is Arn Anderson talking on the phone.” “‘Well, hell, man — put him on!’” Hitchcock told his friend, recalling the excitement of that first conversation with his idol. “And he tapped him on the shoulder and said ‘Your biggest fan wants to talk to you.’ And he handed [the receiver] to him, and he said ‘Hello,’ and I said, ‘Double A! You’re my hero!’ and he said, ‘Thanks, man,’ and I said, ‘This is John, the guy from Greensboro with the signs.’ And there was a pause and he said, ‘Greensboro. How’re you doing?’ and he started talking.” Hitchcock says he doesn’t claim to be tight with Anderson, but the rasslin’ superstar always had time to visit when their paths crossed. “One of the times I went up to him and said, ‘We still love you in Greensboro,’ and he looked at me and went, ‘I know that voice, I know that face — Greensboro.’ And he said ‘Come on over here,’ and we sat down and talked for about forty-five minutes. Gave me that time; he was great.” Some believed the access that Hitchcock had to the rasslers was from schmoozing with them in dens of iniquity after the shows, but Hitch says that was the furthest thing from the truth. “It’s funny, everybody thought we were going to bars and hanging out. Guess what? I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t do illegal drugs. I’m the straightest guy that ever walked the planet. What those guys would do is get in their cars and go to the next hotel or go to next show.” Hitchcock just had the nerve to walk right up and introduce himself, relying on his ringside persona to get close. But others weren’t as gracious as Anderson. Hitchcock had it in for Dusty Rhodes and Rhodes actively hated him for it. Hitch got on Rhodes’ hit list with a sign that read “You Can Tell the Wrestler By Looking At His Blubber” (a riff on Rhodes’ theme song that played whenever he entered the ring, “You Can’t Tell a Book By Looking at the Cover”). Hitchcock later sharpened the barb with a caricature of Rhodes as the Michelin Man. Rhodes, who apparently was sensitive about his chubby physique, tried to spit on the Michelin sign but missed, marring the blouse of an older lady at ringside. Rhodes never actively came after Hitchcock, but there was an encounter in Florida during one of the rare times Hitchcock ventured into a bar. It was almost his last. He was talking to WCW announcer Tony Schiavone when Rhodes’ son Dustin walked in, followed a minute later by “Michelin Man” himself. Hitchcock had greeted Dustin by razzing him about being rassler Dick Murdoch’s son, because he didn’t look anything like his daddy. But when Rhodes Senior came and sat down across the bar he looked over at Hitchcock and realized who he was. “I’m The Art & Soul of Greensboro


The Evolving Species

Greensboro,’” Hitchcock says. “And he smiles and he drinks his beer, gets up and walks over to Dustin and says, ‘You realize who you’re talkin’ to? Don’t talk to him anymore.’ The pudgy rassler took a more proactive approach with Schiavone, grabbing him by his coat lapels, pulling him face-to-face, “You’re talking to that asshole from Greensboro. Don’t talk to him.” Hitchcock was plenty uneasy at that point: “I was worried he might swing on me cause I’d heard he was pissed. And he didn’t — he just looked at me and smiled, finished his beer, grabbed Dustin, walked out of the bar. And I went to Schiavone and said, ‘He told you not to talk to me.’ And he said, ‘Yeah, that’s the weirdest thing. He’s never done that before. But man, he really does hold a grudge. He really hates your guts.’ And I went, ‘Well I hate his guts too.’” Rhodes passed away in 2015, and Hitchcock has mellowed a bit on his Rhodes hate-fest. “He was one of the most charismatic guys in history of the business, one of the best talkers, one of the biggest stars in the world from’74–’86,” Hitchcock says before adding a caveat. “Had one of the biggest egos in the history of the business. And when I found out he was the booker, telling everybody who’s gonna win and who’s gonna lose, and then he won all he time, he put a target on himself as far as I was concerned, to make fun of him.” Hitchcock could get away with what the guys in the ring couldn’t and they encouraged him to keep it up. Hitchcock acknowledges that when somebody of that stature passes away, you should point out the good as well as the bad. “I give credit where credit is due, but it’s hard to cheer for somebody when every time they’d come out they’d either grab their crotch or try to spit on you. So it was serious — it was a lot of heat.” Hitchcock doesn’t bring much heat anymore. He’s as banged up as some of the famous rasslers he idolized. From a kidney transplant in ’88 and from a brief stint as a bodyguard in New Dimension Wrestling. “I would take one punch, fall down, act like I was knocked out, and that was it,” he says of his days in the ring. These days, most of the superheroes he sees are on the walls and in the bins at his comic book store. He still watches rasslin’) on TV on Monday nights, and will go to one of the Indy shows if the accommodations are right. “If I sit on bleachers, it kills me,” he says. “I just turned 60, I know I’m no spring chicken anymore. I gotta have something with a little back support. If I have to sit on bleachers, screw it. But if they’ve got a metal chair, oh yeah, I’ll go.” At this point in his career, Hitch is at last content to leave the rasslin’ to the pros, and be just a spectator, in his corner, from parts unknown. OH

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O.Henry 35


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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Vine Wisdom

Toast of the Town How the custom got its beginning

By Robyn James

Beginning a new year is a

classic time for a toast. So are weddings, anniversaries, birthdays and basically any occasion for a social gathering of family and friends. But where did the custom of clinking glasses come from? There are many theories of the origination of the toast, but the most common is attributed to the Greeks in sixth century B.C. when deliberately poisoning people was a frighteningly common practice. Sick of your spouse, neighbor or politician? Just a pinch of hemlock and be done with it. So, in order to convince people that you didn’t intend to off them, the Greeks would pour the wine from a common jug, then clink glasses together. By clinking, the wine would slosh back and forth between glasses, demonstrating that the host was willing to drink what everyone else was drinking and the wine was untainted. The Greeks made a practice of offering libations to the gods and toasting to each other’s health. The Romans took it a step further by actually passing a law that everyone must drink to Emperor Augustus at every meal. Apparently, the wine was of such poor quality that the Romans discovered if they placed a piece of stale bread in the jug it would not only absorb some of the acidity, making the wine more palatable, but the bread would become edible again. Hence the name “toast.” In the 1800s, the Toastmasters Clubs were founded to practice the art. Supposedly they became the referees of toasting, making sure participants kept it simple and civil. It was common then to toast beautiful women, which coined the expression “toast of the town.” One famous toastmaster compared a good toast to a short skirt: “It should be short enough to be interesting and long enough to cover the essentials.” Here’s mud in your eye? Why would you wish that on anybody? OK, two

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

theories exist on the origin of this common British toast. The first is a reference to horse racing, since this was a popular toast in fox hunting circles. The winning horse in a race is kicking mud into the eyes of the spectators, so it was a desirable thing. The second, and probably more common, theory is a biblical one where Jesus spat on the ground and rubbed the mud into a blind man’s eyes, restoring his sight. “Cheers” is a term associated with toasting, and is believed to have originated from the French word “chiere,” meaning “face.” By the 14th century it was interpreted as a mood on the face, and by the 18th century it became the term it is today, a show of support and encouragement. Here are some of the more popular and clever toasts of our times: Here’s to Champagne, the drink divine, That makes us forget our troubles; It’s made of five dollars’ worth of wine And twenty dollars’ worth of bubbles. *** Here’s to the nights we’ll never remember with the friends we’ll never forget. *** May the friends of our youth be the companions of our old age. *** May we live as long as we want, and never want as long as we live. *** May misfortune follow you the rest of your life but never catch up. *** Here’s to mine and here’s to thine! Now’s the time to clink it! Here’s a flagon of old wine, And here we are to drink it. OH Robyn James is a certified sommelier and proprietor of The Wine Cellar and Tasting Room in Southern Pines. Contact her at robynajames@gmail.com. January 2017

O.Henry 37


In The Spirit

How to Beat the Holiday Hangover

By Tony Cross

Now that the

holidays are over, it’s time to regroup and get it together. For most of us that means back to the gym, reintroducing new, or old, diets, New Year’s resolutions — you still do those? — and moderation. There’s nothing wrong with most of these; I usually take a cleanse of some sort to detox the ridiculous amounts of excess that I happily ate, drank and whatevered to my body. Most articles from various publications preach about what you should or shouldn’t do at the beginning of each year. So, in the tradition of cliché January columns on the subject, I bring you: how to drink better this year. I’ve mentioned in previous columns how it’s good to have a handful (maybe I used the word “arsenal”) of drinks in your mental reservoir whenever you’re at a bar or restaurant. This piece of advice still stands. Cocktail historian David Wondrich once wrote that if you’re a vodka soda drinker, you should probably just continue to drink vodka sodas. Clever, and more than likely true. Most vodka soda fans aren’t drinking for flavor, but if you are, keep on reading. One of my favorite tricks to play on guests is giving them gin instead of vodka. Whenever a patron asked me to come up with something

38 O.Henry

January 2017

inventive on the fly that used vodka as the main spirit, I would more than likely use Uncle Val’s Botanical Gin. Distilled in Sonoma, California, it tastes nothing like any gin you’re used to. This gin is a huge lemon and citrus bomb. I’ve converted plenty of gin haters with this beauty. Add a splash of organic grapefruit juice, and you’ll your new allegiance to gin. Hangovers are the worst. The only real cure for them is time, but the best way to make crippling pain hurry up and go away is, you guessed it, a drink. Everyone does the mimosa or bloody Mary, and using fresh ingredients with both will get you a better tasting drink. There are a few ways you can switch up these weekend morning staples. First, replace your bloody Mary vodka with a London Dry Gin. A good two ounces of Beefeater’s turns your bloody Mary into a treat. Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you? You can’t taste the vodka in a bloody Mary unless you put an insane amount in, and with the gin, the myriad of botanicals blend with all the flavors from the bloody Mary mix. I always order them with gin. That’s a great way to switch it up at brunch. Have you had a Corpse Reviver No.2? This is a classic cocktail dating from the preProhibition era. Don’t get this confused with the first type of Reviver (made with brandy, sweet vermouth and applejack); the Corpse Reviver No.2 is made with gin, Cointreau, Lillet Blanc, and fresh lemon juice (served up in an absinthe rinsed coupe glass). It’s perfect in the mornings, but if you’re having one of those days where it’s taking your funk a little longer to wear off, try my go-to cure from Chef Warren’s, in my hometown of Southern Pines. This is an equal parts recipe, minus the absinthe. Don’t be afraid, the absinthe is primarily for the olfactory senses.

Corpse Reviver No.2

Absinthe (or Pernod) 3/4 ounce Conniption Gin (distilled in Durham) The Art & Soul of Greensboro

PHOTOGRAPH BY WARREN LEWIS

Surefire drinks to upgrade your new year cocktails


In The Spirit 3/4 ounce Lillet Blanc (available at Nature’s Own) 3/4 ounce Cointreau 3/4 ounce lemon juice Take a half bar spoon of absinthe (or Pernod) and swirl (rinse) it in a chilled cocktail coupe, making sure the absinthe completely coats the inside. Discard any remaining absinthe and put the glass back in the fridge/freezer while making the cocktail. Place remaining ingredients into your cocktail shaker. Add ice, shake very well, until the drink is ice cold, and strain it into your coupe glass. Take a swath of orange peel, expressing the oils over the drink. Thank me later when you’re feeling better. OK, Jamo and ginger guy/gal, you’re next. Probably more popular this generation than a Jack and Coke is the infamous Jameson Irish Whiskey with ginger ale. Popular at restaurants and your local pub — just ask the crew at your favorite watering hole. how many bottles of Jameson they go through in a week. More than likely, any establishment with a liquor license that you frequent will be able to mix this up for you, and that’s great, but this is about loading up the arsenal, remember? Enter: Monkey Shoulder Blended Malt Whisky. Before you judge, know that Monkey Shoulder blends three Scotch single malts from Speyside, and it sits in used bourbon barrels for three to six months, giving it more of a mellow characteristic. A cocktail that can take the edge of is aptly called Penicillin. Monkey Shoulder mixed with organic ginger, a local honey syrup, lemon juice and a splash of peaty Scotch whisky makes this a perfect wintertime concoction. Bringing this cocktail up to your nose, you’re tricked into thinking that the drink will taste smokier than it actually is.

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Penicillin (Sam Ross, Milk & Honey, New York City, 2005)

1/4 ounce Laphroaig (or other smoky Scotch) 2 ounces Monkey Shoulder Whisky 3/4 ounces honey syrup (3:1) 3/4 ounce lemon juice 2 pieces ginger root Put the ginger in your cocktail shaker, muddle to release the juice. Combine whiskey, honey syrup and lemon juice in your cocktail shaker, add ice, and shake until ice cold. Pour over ice in a rocks glass. Float Laphroaig on top of the cocktail (do this by pouring the 1/4 ounce over the back of a bar spoon on top of the cocktail). Garnish with a slice of fresh ginger, or candied ginger. OH Tony Cross is a bartender who runs cocktail catering company Reverie Cocktails in Southern Pines. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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O.Henry 39


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January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


True South

Reconciling Resolutions Forget dropping 20 pounds. Just be nice

By Susan Kelly

My father could be depended upon for two

things. One, he always, always, had a ChapStick in his pocket. At church, on a car trip, watching TV — if you’d licked your lips raw, usually in January, he had ChapStick on him. And secondly, at every opportunity, every introduction, he’d say to me, “Shake his hand hard and look him in the eye.”

Come January, you might as well look winter in the eye, too. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon. If I were still the parent of a 12-year-old, I’d say, “Deal with it.” As in: “But the teacher hates me.” “Deal with it.” We’re all adults here, and it just seems uncommonly unfair to have to deal with both winter and January resolutions. The thrill of a new year (Finally! Stash that tired 2016.) feels, well, compromised. We’re slightly cowed, perhaps a bit weary, before we even get into it. What you call a resolution — finally finish Moby Dick, drop 20 pounds, no more Cheetos, ever — I call a grand catalyst for failure. This is why another grownup in my past advised “keep it private” regarding what I was giving up for Lent, another winter downer. Still, the antidote to January blues, blahs and frostbite is to do something. When you’re feeling small, start small. “When all else fails, clean,” my mother has said to me. Let’s rule that one out. Instead, haul in the empty trashcan of the single mom or stooped gentleman who lives a few houses down, when the trash-gobbling truck has thrown it carelessly sideways on the curb. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Neighbors do this for my 86-year-old mother, which eases my mind that she won’t lift up the lid and fall inside — a real possibility given the cavernous size of the city bins. And go ahead: Let that guy in your lane. What’s it gonna cost you, 20 seconds of travel time? Motion him over, wave in the rearview. We’re Southerners with a reputation for manners and politeness, traits worth saving and using. The fellow making you crazy with constant braking is lost, and looking for a specific street. That was you in Charlotte, remember, frantically checking your GPS, and fully aware that someone behind you was also steaming with impatience. Before it snows or, more likely, ices, you’re going to be making soup or something tomato-y and taco-y in the Crock-Pot. Scribble “Enjoy the Extra” on a note and leave a container on a friend’s stoop, a grand gesture I call the drop ’n’ dash. Even hermits can participate. But I’m not sick, she’ll think. But Christmas is past, he’ll think. And by every definition, both of you will feel warm and fed. Then there’s that grocery bagger, trying his best to make an honest buck. The girl behind the counter at Bojangles’, the clerk at Belk, and the loader at Lowe’s. Most of us have been there at one time or another, been one of the service industry’s taken-for-granteds. You may deserve a break today, but they deserve a connection. Let them know they count. As they hand over your books/biscuits/bananas, look them in the eyes. When resolutions seem lofty, instead do something resolutely simple. It’s January. It’s winter. American poet James Russell Lowell wrote, “Take winter as you find him and he turns out to be a thoroughly honest fellow with no nonsense in him.” Which is just another way of saying, shake his hand hard and look him in the eye. And carry ChapStick. OH When she isn’t performing small acts of random kindness, Susan Kelly spends her time freelancing for O.Henry, among other publications. January 2017

O.Henry 41


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The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Birdwatch

Splish! Splash!

Winter waterbirds have arrived

By Susan Campbell

The arrival of cold weather in the Triad

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means that our local ponds and lakes will become the winter home to more than two dozen different species of ducks, geese and swans. Over the years, as development has added water features both large and small to the landscape, the diversity of our aquatic visitors has increased significantly. Although we are all familiar with our local mallards and Canada geese, nowadays from November through March, observant bird watchers can expect to see ring-necked duck, buffleheads, loons, cormorants, pied-billed grebes and American coots, to name a handful.

Certainly, the most abundant and wide-spread species is the ring-necked duck, flocks of which can be seen diving in shallow ponds and coves for aquatic invertebrate prey, dining on everything from leeches to dragonflies, midges to mosquitoes, water bugs to beetles. They obviously get their name from the indistinct rusty ring at the base of their necks. Also look for iridescent blue heads, black sides and gray backs on males. The females, as with all of the true duck species, nondescript: light brown all over but, like the males, have a distinctive grayish blue bill with a white band around it. Perhaps the most noticeable of our wintering waterfowl would be the buffleheads. They form small groups that dive in deeper water, feeding on vegetation and invertebrates. The males have a bright white hood and body with iridescent dark green back, face and neck. They also sport bright orange legs and feet that they will flash during confrontations. The females of this species are characteristically drab, mainly brown with the only contrast being a small white cheek patch. Interestingly, bufflehead is the one species of migratory duck that actually mates for life. This is generally a The Art & Soul of Greensboro

trait found only in the largest of waterfowl: swans and geese. There are several types of aquatic birds, similar to ducks that can be identified if you’re lucky enough to spot them; you’ll likely need a pair of binoculars. Common loons can occasionally be seen diving for fish on larger lakes in winter, and even more during spring and fall migration. Their size and shape are quite distinctive (as is their yodeling song; unfortunately, they tend not to sing while they are here). It is important to be aware that we have another visitor that can be confused with loons: the double-crested cormorant, which is actually not a duck at all. This glossy dark swimmer, along with its cousin the anhinga, is more closely related to seabirds (i.e. boobies and gannets) and is a very proficient diver with a sharply serrated bill adapted for catching fish. It is not uncommon to see cormorants in their “drying” pose, when their wings are almost fully extended. (It’s the slight droop that makes them look sort of comical.) Since their feathers are not as waterproof as those of diving ducks, they only enter water to feed and bathe. Most of their time is spent sitting on a dock or some sort of perch trying to dry off. Two other species of waterbirds can be found regularly at this time of year: pied-billed grebes and American coots. Pied-billed grebes are the smallest of the swimmers we see in winter, with light brown plumage, short thick bills and bright white bottoms. Surprisingly, they are very active swimmers. They can chase down small fish in just about any depth of water. American coots — black, stocky birds with white bills — are scavengers, feeding mainly in aquatic vegetation. They can make short dives but are too buoyant to remain submerged for more than a few seconds. Given their long legs and well-developed toes, they are also adept at foraging on foot. You might see them feeding on grasses along the edge of larger bodies of water or even on the edge of golf course water hazards. In the coming weeks, if you find yourself at Lake Brandt Marina, Trosper Pond, the Lake Townsend causeway or even Yanceyville Marsh, scan the surface for rafts of floating waterbirds. Of course, you will most likely need your binoculars in order to better make out the shapes and color patterns. But if you can get a good look, take the time to enjoy some of these wonderful, web-footed winter visitors from the far north. OH Susan would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photographs at susan@ncaves.com. January 2017

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Wandering Billy

Ghosts of Punk Past and Present And a couple of historic beauties around town

By Billy Eye

“No friendship is an accident.” — O.Henry

They say what you’re doing when the clock

strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve, you’ll be doing all year. Getting a good night’s sleep sounds about right to me! I haven’t adopted a resolution in a long time; to be honest, I never expect to make it through the entire year. Surely, I console myself every January, my heavenly reward lurks right around the corner. I even know how I wish to depart this dusty jewel — spontaneous combustion — and with all I had to drink over the holidays, that’s a distinct possibility. The parties were too numerous to mention . . . the ones I wasn’t invited to, anyway. What you couldn’t possibly know, dear reader, unless you are paying an unhealthy amount of attention to this column, is that your humble scribe Billy Eye got his start reviewing punk bands on the east side of L.A. back in

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

1980. Bubbling up from the underground came Red Hot Chili Peppers, Social Distortion, Minutemen and so many others; night after night, and more than a few afternoons, yours truly was knocking around in notorious dumps against a backdrop of ferocious music. That said, I loathe to be clubbing when a punk band takes the stage. I was weaned on the real thing, so don’t even bother. That was how I felt for decades until discovering Robert (Cray Cray) Joyce and his meteoric ensembles. Rob gets what most punkers today don’t understand or can’t fully embrace. It’s a laugh. It’s a good time. It’s not a wail fest. With delirious lyrics steeped in ironic pentameter, this High Point native’s loopy onstage presence as the manic frontman for Robert (Cray Cray) Joyce is infectious. (No really, I think if you saw Rob you’d agree, he looks infectious.) I caught that group at Somewhere Else Tavern recently then ventured over to the edge of UNCG’s campus to Tuba House, a housing-code-busting crashpad that closely resembles Dorothy Gale’s farmhouse. After the tornado. That’s where Rob’s dramatic beats for Time Machine Drive-By tore through the crowd. They’re one hell of a party band. Rob Joyce also organized a Battle of the Benefits to raise money for charity at New York Pizza that was supported by the area’s dynamic music community. It seems Tate Street is undergoing another renaissance of music and art, and at its core is Matty Sheets’ Tuesday night open mic at NYP that consistently attracts major talent. Always a good time, I had the pleasure of attending when Jennifer Millis, fresh off her world tour, wowed the audience and was summoned back for an encore, which is pretty unusual. But then she’s a January 2017

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Wandering Billy truly amazing performer. Even more exciting was her impromptu living room performance for me and the titular star of my new groovy television program, The Nathan Stringer Summer Music Show, look for that on YouTube.

***

Not half a mile away from the aforementioned Tuba House is a home of a whole different sort, one that has welcomed doyennes and dignitaries for what will now be thirty-four Presidential administrations. Located on North Edgeworth, the Weir-Jordan House was built in 1846 by David Weir, one of the founders of what would become Greensboro College. This manse was once surrounded by 20 unspoiled acres with the nearest neighbor being Governor Morehead’s Blandwood House. History whispers that perhaps it was Alexander Jackson Davis, Blandwood’s architect, who designed this antebellum mansion just loaded with warmth and charm. In 1920 the Greensboro Woman’s Club bought the house for their meetings and the National Federation of Woman’s Clubs still own it. I pretty much ambushed superstar caterer Stacy Street there when I found myself at Weir-Jordan on unrelated business, and she couldn’t have been more gracious. For a decade now she’s been staging elegant functions for large and small groups in this Nationally Registered Historic Home, with all of the rent going to preserving this treasure so close to the center of town. Standing in the spacious drawing room I could almost imagine what it was like a century ago when the area was being developed as a residential neighborhood.

***

It was almost exactly twenty years ago that I moved three blocks west of Hamburger Square and would get the most curious looks when I told people this. They’d inevitably ask, “Why would you want to live downtown?” I prefer apartment living and wanted a solid old place, up off the ground, with hardwood floors, thick plaster walls and lots of windows showing plenty of sky. Built around 1930, the place I selected, and reside in now, is a classic shotgun design, so evening breezes are a real treat when the weather’s nice. It’s snowy days I enjoy most though, when I can gaze out my front windows and see pretty much what someone would have witnessed in 1937 when this place was occupied by a Mrs. Margaret Clark, who worked for the Greensboro Overall Company, on Carolina Street near Northwood, Blue Bell Manufacturing’s main competitor in the 1930s. OH Billy Eye is laughing because you’ll never get the seven minutes back that you wasted reading this drivel. The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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Wishing you a

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January 2017 Wintry Mix Without warning, you alter my day — wanting more firewood before it becomes soggier with morning snow. I see no reason to disembark the sofa. Horizontal before the fireplace, I offer you a quilt that needs no tinder — but your posture is stern and straight. Rising, I moan like only I can, still unconvinced. Children sled outside, asphalt’s black spine revealed with each pass, down the block where we sometimes stroll comfortable evenings, or other everyday occasions when we leave, yet return. Warm in a wool scarf I gave you, you emerge smiling, extending leather gloves to fend off spiders and splinters, and seize some oak, encouraging me to hurry inside. — Sam Barbee from That Rain We Needed

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Magna Carta Man “Little old bookbinder” Don Etherington held — and preserved — history with his hands By Jim Moriarty Photographs by John Gessner

S

urrounded by thickheaded hammers, scalpels that look like they’ve escaped from an operating theater and a cast iron vice, Don Etherington sits on a stool in his bookbinding workshop and talks about the heart attack that led to his quadruple bypass surgery as if it was a trip to the Circle K. It was a delightful, warm November day a little over a year ago. He had turned 80 a few months before. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, took a nitroglycerin pill, waited five minutes and took another. The pain didn’t go away so he called 911. His house is four from the corner. By the time the paramedics got him to the end of the road, he was gone. From the other side of the studio, his wife, Monique Lallier, a designer of artistic book covers as highly prized as Etherington’s own, picks up the narrative. “He said, ‘You know this nurse in the ambulance, she was sooo nice,’” she says, her French-Canadian accent making the encounter in the rear of a rescue vehicle sound just slightly naughty. “I said, ‘Of course she was nice, she was happy to see that you came back.’” Etherington laughs. “So,” he says, “this is my second time around, actually.” The first one wasn’t half bad. “I’m just a little old bookbinder,” Etherington says. Indeed, he is. One who has laid his hands on the 1297 Magna Carta and the Declaration of Independence, to name just two. And it all started with a pair of dancing shoes. Born in 1935, living in a Lewis Trust building — flats for the poor — in central London, Etherington was a child of the Blitz. His mother, Lillian, cleaned houses. His father, George, was a painter by trade who’d been a prisoner of war for four years during the War to End All Wars and came home a changed man. “He was a hard guy,” Etherington says. With the exception of roughly half a year when Etherington was evacuated to a house in

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Leeds that lacked indoor plumbing, buzz bombs and shelters were what passed for a routine childhood. “I used to roam the streets with a bunch of guys,” he says. “I’d go around at night — I can’t believe this myself — with a shopping bag and pick up all the pieces of German shrapnel. I’m, what, 5? It’s beyond imagination. The Blitz, the only time it really affected me, was when the flats got bombed. That night 73 of my school chums got killed in that one air raid. I think it was a doodlebug (a V-1 bomb). It hit the corner of our apartment block, skidded into the shelters, where a lot of people got killed, and it bounced off there into the school. “It was like part of life. You’d hear the drone coming over and then all of a sudden, it would stop. We could tell where it was going to hit. We’d say, ‘Oh, that’s going to hit Hammersmith or that’s going to hit Kensington.’ We didn’t have that feeling that it was awful and depressing. It was our life. When you go through that, certain things don’t affect you as much. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that we were very resilient and resourceful.” After the war, barely into his teens, Etherington did two things that would change the trajectory of his life, and he doesn’t know why he did either one. First, at 13, given a list of potential fields of study at the Central School, he ticked off bookbinding, jewelry making and engraving. He was chosen for bookbinding and off he went, still in short trousers. “I came away that first day knowing I loved it,” he says. “From that day on, nearly 70 years, I’ve been happy doing what I’ve been doing, which is very special.” The second was those shoes. “I took myself off the streets,” he says. At 14, he bought a pair of dancing shoes, marched into a studio in what was, to him, the fancy Knightsbridge section of London, and took up ballroom dancing. Medals and jobs came his way. He met his first wife, Daisy, when he helped open a dance studio in Wimbledon. “To this day, I don’t know how I went from strolling the streets, getting into all sorts of stuff, from that to doing dancing. The only thing I could say is when I went to Saturday cinema, I loved watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. I got enamored and thought, boy, I’d love to go to America.” Etherington danced his way into his 80s, including at Green’s Supper Club in Greensboro.

After a seven-year apprenticeship in binding at Harrison and Sons in London, followed by a brief stint restoring musical scores at the BBC, Etherington took a position as an assistant to Roger Powell, the man who bound the illuminated manuscript The Book of Kells into four volumes in 1953. “I went to Roger. He said, ‘What do you know about bookbinding?’ And I said, ‘Absolutely everything.’ For the next few years he showed I didn’t know a damn thing,” says Etherington. His work with Powell and his partner, Peter Waters, was followed by a position at Southampton College of Art, where Etherington developed a bookbinding and design program in addition to producing his own designs, the artistic covers he’s created throughout his life. In the first week of November 1966, after a period of prolonged rain and threat of the collapse of several dams on the Arno River, a release of floodwater hit Florence, Italy, traveling nearly 40 miles an hour. The Biblioteca Nazional Centrale, virtually under water, was cut off from the rest of the city. The damage was incalculable. Powell and Wright asked Etherington to join the British team being dispatched to Italy to help. “They had 300,000 books floating in the water. Before we got there these student volunteers got them out of the water, out of the mud, out of the oil and put them on a truck to be dried in tobacco kilns up in the mountains. Not to blame them because nobody knew, but it was the wrong technique. Here you’ve got covers floating all around and you’ve got books floating all around. In those days, they weren’t titled. All these scholars were having to try to match up that cover with that book with no indication other than size.” Out of this disaster, the field of book conservation was born. “We started to talk to German, Danish, Dutch bookbinders and restorers for the first

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Etherington’s artistic book covers, clockwise, from top left: 1st Prelude (private collection); a photo album of students’ work (Etherington’s first art cover at Central School of the Arts, London); 12 Centuries of Bookbinding, 400-1600 (at Jackson Library UNCG); Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (University of California Press); Both Sides of the Road (in collection of the British Library).

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time. We started talking about different techniques. Never would anybody share secrets — including England. All of a sudden, we’re talking together around coffee or whatever. It was just a whole different mindset,” says Etherington. For two years, he spent between six and eight weeks in Florence teaching conservation techniques to the Italians. His first trip to Italy, at the age of 31, was the first time he’d ever been on an airplane. Etherington stayed in a pensione on the Arno River whose owner looked like Peter Sellers, and his fellow lodgers included two bankers from Milan, a prostitute who didn’t talk much, and a countess who had been married to a high ranking German general in the Weimar Republic who delighted in regaling her dinner companions with personal recollections of the Aga Khan. Etherington would, himself, hit on a previously untried technique, using dyed Japanese rice paper in mending leather bookbinding to add strength unachievable with the leather alone, an approach that’s still used. “People give him a lot of respect for being one of the early conservators,” says Linda Parsons, who joined Etherington at the founding of what would become known as the Etherington Conservation Center (now the HF Group) in Browns Summit.

Four years after the Florence flood, Etherington was asked by Wright to join him at the U.S. Library of Congress as a training officer. He spent a decade in D.C. in various capacities. Among the projects he consulted on were teaching FBI agents about printing techniques, typefaces and paper characteristics to help them reassemble shredded documents found behind the Democratic party offices at the Watergate Hotel — some of which related to the scandal itself — and preparing Lincoln’s manuscript of the Gettysburg Address for display at the Gettysburg National Military Park. As if he had nothing else to do, Etherington penned a full-blown dictionary, Bookbinding and the Conservation of Books, listing every tool, material and technique related to the field he’d help create. From the Library of Congress, Etherington was hired to launch a conservation program at the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas in Austin. There he was asked by Ross Perot to supervise the care and transportation of the 1297 version of the Magna Carta. “There’s about 17 versions in existence. The 1297 one was the version the Founding Fathers used to write the Constitution of the United States. Ross is a big collector of Americana. He bought it for $1.5 million, which was pretty cheap at the time. It was found in the archives of a family in England. I was very surprised that England allowed it out. When I saw it, it was in really, really good shape. The ink was very black. There was question whether it was legitimate. Many scholars looked at it and authenticated it but, boy, it was questionable at the time. “When you have an early document, you have a seal — I think it’s Edward I — and a silk strap. Because of maybe packing it or making sure it didn’t hang loose, someone turned the tie and put it on the back and stuck Scotch tape on it. I know it sounds stupid but it was that way. At some point, it went up for sale. This guy bought it for $22 million so Ross didn’t do too bad.” By 1987, Etherington had fallen in love with Monique on a trip to Finland. His sons, Gary

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and Mark, were grown, and he decided to rearrange his life and leave Austin. He and Monique moved to Greensboro to begin a for-profit conservation company in association with Information Conservation, Inc. It would morph into the Etherington Conservation Center. The company performed the conservation and display preparation for the Constitution of Puerto Rico. They prepared and conserved the Virginia Bill of Rights. And Etherington was asked to work on the Charters of Freedom exhibit — the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights — for the National Archives as the parchment consultant on the Declaration of Independence, helping to design how the badly faded document was to be displayed. Like a sure-handed heart surgeon, one concentrates on the process, not the patient. “A lot of people who are not in this business, they think it’s a little bit scary,” he says. “I try not to think too much about the importance of it to history or to our country or whatever, because once you start doing that, instead of treating it with surety, you’re treating it with tentative hands, and that’s the worst thing that could ever happen to you.”

Etherington’s archive resides at the Walter Clinton Jackson Library at UNCG. “He’s internationally known,” says Jennifer Motszko, the library’s manuscript archivist. “He basically was there at the founding of his field where they started to come up with systemizing ways to preserve and conserve materials. But then he’s become a well-known entity in fine arts binding. You mention him in that circle, he and Monique define that area.” In celebration of artists and their craft, the UNC Wilmington Museum of World Cultures has designated Etherington and Lallier North Carolina Living Treasures. Etherington has worked on everything from family Bibles to a 14th century Haggadah, from first century Chinese papyrus rolls to a rare copy of James Joyce’s Ulysses, from personal treasures to national ones. Still, every day at 5 p.m., studio work ceases. It’s time for the Etherington Cocktail. One part gin. Two jiggers of sweet Vermouth and a splash of tonic water. “I’ve been very lucky doing things,” says Etherington. Now he gets to toast a second go-round. OH Jim Moriarty is senior editor of PineStraw magazine and can be reached at jjmpinestraw@gmail.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro

POSITIVE OUTLOOK

Preston McNeil met Don Etherington when the family’s Chi-Poo, Mali, a Chihuahua/ poodle mix, gnawed the edges of the study Bible belonging to his wife, Brenda. McNeil, who moved to North Carolina from New Jersey in 1988, has owned businesses ranging from carpet cleaning to cookie stores, and dabbled in jewelry design. He decided he could add bookbinder to the list by taking the chomped-on Bible apart and putting it back together again. “So, I did,” he says. “It was a book that worked.” All the new binding lacked was lettering. McNeil found a place where he could have it imprinted. When the man behind the counter made out the invoice he noticed McNeil’s address. It was the same street Etherington lived on. “He said, ‘Take this book and show Don what you’ve done,’” says McNeil. “So, I took it to Don and he goes, ‘Uh, I see some mistakes but you did pretty good.’ He invited me in. And I’ve been going to him from that point on.” After a couple of years studying with Etherington, McNeil felt confident enough to redo a friend’s Bible. “Then I began to buy my own equipment. Now, I have a full studio downstairs,” he says. And another business, Gate City Binding. “I wish I had learned to do this when I was 36,” says McNeil, who’s actually three decades older than that. “I love it so much.” His seven-year apprenticeship with Etherington and his new skill set led to a delicate and difficult commission, rebinding the volumes of the Pinehurst Outlook, the newspaper that published continuously from 1897 to 1961, that reside in the Tufts Archives at the Given Memorial Library. The project is being paid for entirely with donations designated for that purpose. “The majority of the Outlooks I’ve worked with are fully separating from the original binding,” he says. “The spine is deteriorating. Everything is dry-rotting on the interior. The books are all newspapers. If they need to be restitched, they’ll be restitched. If they need to be reglued, I reglue them. Then rebuild the whole spine. It goes from individual papers to a book again. It’s building a book from scratch, essentially.” Just like his new career is built from scratch. “I take from his mind, put it into my mind,” says McNeil of his mentor, Etherington. “I take from his hands, and I hope it’s coming out of my hands.” January 2017

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— OUR —

Shining City ON THE HILL

High Point’s wildcat of an economy keeps purring, but the city struggles to up its curb appeal By Billy Ingram • Photographs By Amy Freeman

“H

igh Point is as complicated as the Bible,” proclaims my tour guide. As we’re standing in front of 114 South Main street a scruffy 20-something kid on a bike stops in his tracks, pulls out his ear buds and turns to ask 80-something Charles Simmons if he’s still interested in purchasing one of his paintings. Known by many as the unofficial mayor of Main Street, Simmons describes himself as “low profile.” But practically everyone we’ve run across while he’s been leading me on a walking tour of High Point Landmarks over the previous four hours has stopped to greet him warmly, whether the delightful dowagers of the exclusive String & Splinter Club or the designers and planners populating Market Square. Simmons enjoys less than six degrees of separation from any important person, place or thing associated with the Triad. He’s a globetrotting evangelist, you might say, whose faith in the future of High Point and its all-important spring and fall furniture market is unshakeable. His roots run deep. Simmons’ family acquired 35,000 square feet of land downtown beginning in the 1860s, including 114 South Main, a majestic, three-story brick-and-marble structure crowned with massive, impressively detailed cathedral windows. “My grand-

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father built this building in 1912 and it is still 95 percent original, because my granddaddy knew how to build buildings,” he says, with pride. When Jimmy Noble suggested opening a New Orleans style French restaurant here in the early 1980s, Simmons and his sister said they’d work with him. J. Basul Noble Restaurant became one of the area’s premier dining destinations. With low ceilings, exposed brick and an underground jazz cellar, Noble’s new eatery grew from sixty-five seats to one-hundred-fifty seats. “One night there was somewhere between three and five billion dollars sitting in that restaurant having dinner,” Simmons recalls. Two doors down, Gerald Washington of Mississippi opened an eatery with, “nine ugly sofas, nine ugly love seats, nine funky chairs, and in five years went from $8 million volume to $50 million.” In 2009, after a remarkable twenty-five year run, the restaurant closed. “Jimmy moved out and we got more money out of it as a showroom than we did on a percentage lease on a highly successful restaurant.” For Simmons, history lives on every corner of the city he believes is finally on the rise: in the nondescript factory standing on Broad and Elm where George T. Wood & Sons began their multigenerational heritage and the towering International Home Furnishings Center. “This was the first market building right here, 250,000 square feet of space.” Simmons swears that the The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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Jamestown, New York, market is an exact replica of High Point’s iconic building. “Captain Charles Long went up there and either stole the plans or bought the plans from the architect,” he insists. “Everything was exactly the same.” What makes Simmons an expert on the High Point Market? “I’ve been to 132 furniture markets, I never buy I just look,” he says. “The reality is, the High Point Market was and may still be the No. 1, money-making event in the United States ahead of the [Consumer] Electronics Show in Las Vegas, the Kentucky Derby, the Masters, the Super Bowl, the Final Four, the World Series, and Mardi Gras.” Andrew Brod, a UNCG economist, did a study on the market, he says. In 2004 the economic impact was $1.2 billion dollars a year. Mardi Gras was $900 million and the Super Bowl tapped out at $300 million. “Nobody talks about it,” Simmons continues. “In fact, we’ve got more tenants per capita than anywhere in the world. We’ve got our regular tenants, which is why the prices are so high, but we’ve got another 5,000 tenants that come here for the furniture market and, when they leave, they lock the doors behind them and they’re gone”

I

must confess a personal affinity for High Point. It was an integral part of my childhood in the form of WGHP, home of wise-cracking weatherman Frank Deal, legendary sportscaster Charlie Harville, Dialing For Dollars twice daily with Jo Nelson (“Do you know the count and the amount?”), Shock Theatre starring Dr. Paul Bearer. And who can forget Miss Libba’s Romper Room or Limbo the Clown? As soon as I got my driver’s license, I made weekly treks to Parker’s News Stand on Main Street. For some reason, a good number of periodicals would be on sale there weeks before they appeared in my hometown of Greensboro; it was the

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only bookseller in the county that carried Variety and Hollywood Reporter. In 1987, I was a performer in the first production shot at the then brand-new motion picture studio just off of Business-85. When I returned to live in the area in the mid-’90s, after fifteen years away, I found myself happily designing furniture catalogs at Omega Studios, run by the nicest and sharpest businessman I ever met, one of High Point’s leading lights, Sidney Gayle. High Point is a great place to visit but not everyone is altogether enthusiastic about living there. A shame, really. In terms of savor and flavor, panache and gentility, infrastructure and magnificent 1920s Art-Deco architecture, the city possesses an undeniable allure. With comfy PART Express coaches rolling into the gilded 1906 Depot every half hour from Greensboro and Winston (less than five dollars round trip, half that with a senior discount), there’s no excuse not to partake in a busman’s holiday strolling the dozens of showrooms compacted into the downtown area, which, unlike the larger cavernous spaces, such as the Natuzzi building, looking like an ocean liner ready to set sail, and Showplace, are actually open to the public. Antiques & Interiors is one of the biggest sellers of antiquities in the country; The Blair Oak at 106 Oak Street specializes in cottage interiors and accessories, located in downtown’s oldest building, originally a private school for boys in 1879; Ashley Interiors’ indulgent beach house and exterior porch furniture boasts the largest display of wicker/rattan furniture in North Carolina; Zaki Oriental Rugs will dazzle you with its hypnotic hand-knotted designs; Asian Loft showcases exotic Chinese and Japanese imports that can accommodate any budget. Another must-see historic treasure, Market Square at 305 West High, is a sprawling designers enclave housed in the meticulously restored 500,000 square foot former Tomlinson Chair Manufacturing complex. The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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Jason Oliver Nixon and John Loecke’s conversion of a charming midcentury drug store (McLarty’s) into a Madcap Cottage of kitsch and decorative high fashion has commanded the attention of the world. Francesco Molon Italian Luxury Furniture is a stunning palatial setting with an elegant array of modern and baroque furnishings created for movie stars and kings. You half expect Nora Desmond in Sunset Boulevard to make a grand entrance, announcing that she’s ready for her close-up. For all the grandiose and fanciful, High Point retains a distinct down-home vibe, especially among some of the centrally located eateries. May I recommend a few favorites? The spaghetti is great at Jimmy’s Pizza, where the atmosphere and zest of otherwise long-gone pizzerias from the 1970s lives on. Open only three hours daily, The Dog House is another 5-Star luncheonette (We’re talking Facebook rankings here) that serves burgers, hot dogs and fried bologna sandwiches — cafeteria-style, and cash only, please. Whether you go for just a dog and buns or all the way, it’ll taste better if you eat it at the worn leatherette stools at the lunch counter. Funky fresh Mi Taqueria on the corner of West Green Drive and Taylor Avenue plates the finest authentic Mexican food I’ve had anywhere. It’s Becky & Mary’s Restaurant on Washington Street that you really need to discover, not far from where favorite son John Coltrane attended high school. (Trane’s sheet music, complete with notes in the margins and his piano are on view — alongside American Idol songbird Fantasia Burrino’s choir robe — at the delightfully eclectic and inventive High Point Museum on East Lexington, by the way). With no signage out front, Becky & Mary’s is easy to miss but is alone worth a trip to High Point for bona fide — and fried, especially the chicken — Southern soul food.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Outside of downtown — or what High Pointers call Uptowne — young folks are flocking to Brown Truck Brewery for craft beer sourced from mainly local and seasonal ingredients. Some are rising professionals, others, students at nearby HPU, whose Cinderella story of sleepy little High Point College transformed into a self-contained metropolis in less than a decade has almost single-handedly kept local newspapers in business. On the southern end of Main Street sits Sir Pizza where for fifty years the Butler family has been serving the best pizza in the state, one square cut pie at a time. Those who remember Friendly Shopping Center in the ’60s and ’70s may recall the Sweet Shoppe Bakery located behind Fleet-Plummer Hardware. Our sense of smell, scientists tell us, retains its memory the longest and you’ll know that’s true when you step through the door of their High Point store at 2008 North Centennial Avenue. This family-owned bakery uses the same recipes they did half a century ago so your olfactory senses and taste buds will revel in sensory overload that spans generations.

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eeing as we’ve barely scratched the surface of the marvelous sights to see, why isn’t High Point experiencing a cultural renaissance in a manner similar to what is happening at the Railyard on East Lewis Street in Greensboro or the eastern edges of the Arts District around Sixth and Trade in Winston? As executive director of the Southwest Renewal Foundation, Dorothy Darr is supremely invested in making that happen: “If I were to make one critical remark about High Point, it is we don’t market ourselves well enough and we don’t emphasize our small town quality of life.” She cites the light traffic (compared to Charlotte, anyway), green spaces and a hoped-for urban greenway to inspire pedestri-

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ans and cyclists as potential selling points. Darr says the city needs to have a multimodal core city area to improve the look of its streetscapes. “We have no major highways going through the downtown area like I-40 in Winston-Salem and Wendover in Greensboro,” she says. With existing cool, old buildings, it’s a hipster-magnet ripe for attracting the creative class. Darr envisions a business incubator and an exploding design district. But, as fate seems to dictate, High Point’s high hopes are punctuated with urban challenges. Losing the North Carolina Shakespeare Festival after thirtyseven years was a cultural sucker punch, but around that same time the city gained an impressive Centennial Station Arts Center housed in the former 1930s’ era Norfolk Southern freight depot with a stage and hardwood ballroom dance floor where open mic nights last summer drew hundreds of performers and devotees. Still, for the most part, you can’t locate a crowd downtown at night with a Geiger counter. No need to roll up the sidewalks, they’re never fully extended when every other storefront is an unwrapped birthday present for fifty weeks out of the year. What gives? High Point has always been an entrepreneurial town, but it’s become a victim of its own success, where rents run as much as three times higher than similar spaces in downtown Greensboro That’s because a furniture showroom can take 2,000 square feet and do $50 million dollars in volume out of it. Around half a billion dollars a year is spent behind locked doors on exhibits for market. But it takes pioneers willing to be that lonely outpost serving customers on a block of papered-over windows. Trouble is, as the adage goes, “Pioneers get eaten by the bears.” Miro Buzov is one of those brave souls. In 2013 he opened The Penny Path Café & Crêpe Shop (Look to the floor for the reason it is so named.) in the heart of town on East MLK near Main. As to why he’s been successful, Buzov explains, “Outside of Brown Truck, it’s one of the only places in all of High Point that consistently draws business from Greensboro, Winston, Advance, Kernersville . . . people come from everywhere. People make a deliberate decision to go out of their way to do what people here do on a daily basis.” The Penny Path Café reminds one of a European brasserie. For Buzov, the The Art & Soul of Greensboro

century-old storefronts that are in abundance downtown are naturals for creating an intimate environ. “I wanted to do something fun and at the same time show it could be done. On a holiday weekend people from out of town, people who live Seattle, New York or Chicago, they always come here. From a monetary aspect, it’s incredibly difficult to make this work.”

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ust two years ago, Buzov says there were fourteen storefronts in the two blocks around his business that hadn’t been affected by the market — empty buildings. “Nobody was buying them, they were dirt cheap, maybe a little more expensive than what they should be because of where they are, but still within the range for somebody to develop, because this is really the only street in High Point where immediateaction could have been taken and nobody did so,” he says. “I like living here—don’t get me wrong—but every time I see something cool coming up in Winston and Greensboro, I feel like a slap in the face all over again.” Things might have turned out differently in Charles Simmons’ view. He mentions two events in High Point’s past that could have been major tipping points in providing a more diverse economy less reliant on furniture manufacturing jobs that largely evaporated after NAFTA. “In the late ’30s, Bill Blair, who was a stock car driver, his family owned a 900-acre farm and he built a one-mile, red dirt racetrack,” Simmons recalls. “It was the first time my daddy said he had ever seen a tunnel that went under the track to get to the infield, made from gigantic 12 x 12 timbers. There was no steel, just lumber from off the farm. Mrs. Blair was actually on NASCAR’s board in the ’40s, because she had this racetrack; Bill France [founder and later CEO of NASCAR] had her on the board.” But as always, fate had other ideas. “Right after World War II, the Jaycees had a motorcycle race out there and they had a wreck, some little boy ran out on the track and got killed. The Jaycees had no insurance, [Mrs. Blair] had no insurance but she had $75,000 in the bank to pave the track. So she couldn’t pave it. If she had, NASCAR might have been here instead of Charlotte.” More egregious in the vagaries of High Point’s fortunes was what Simmons deems a “major, major error.” His take: “In 1927, the wealthy January 2017

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money in Winston, the Reynolds Tobacco people, could not get along with the nouveau riche money in Greensboro. They discussed having one airport on the Forsyth and Guilford County line but they couldn’t get along. R. J. Reynolds’ 17-year-old son was a pilot. He built Smith Reynolds Airport in Winston-Salem in 1927 so they built the Greensboro-High Point airport out there on Lindley Farm’s nursery.” As late as the 1950s, the combined counties could have easily constructed the longest runway in the world on undeveloped parcels that sold for just $1,000 an acre. “Can you imagine, on all that flat land out there, how many warehouses with access to railroad tracks they could have had?” Simmons wonders. “But they didn’t do it. If they had, I honestly believe that Greensboro, High Point and Winston would be bigger than Charlotte.” While High Point coulda been a contenduh, there’s no reason preventing it from still becoming one. Just look at the well of talent and reserves on hand to launch the next Ralph Lauren or Martha Stewart; someone with vision could easily tap into the amazing resources at one’s fingertips here with the largest inventory of furniture and fabrics to be found anywhere in the world. As Simmons put it, “There’s more milk in the cow.” And he maintains it wouldn’t take much for High Point to become the land of milk and honey. “We’re one of only four places in the country with access to four Interstates. Atlanta doesn’t have it, New York City doesn’t have it, Washington, D.C., doesn’t have it,” he says. The trick is to get creative young people to want to live in High Point, because, as Simmons points out, “We’ve got more Parsons, Pratt, RISD, SCAD graduates per capita than anywhere else in the world.” One forward-thinking individual who recognizes the city’s vast potential is Ridvan Tatargil, owner of Chicago-based Eastern Accents. He’s putting the finishing touches on the restoration and expansion of Pandora’s Manor, a magnificent 6,000-square-foot home on West High Avenue that will serve as a bed and breakfast, and meeting place for social gatherings.

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Pandora’s Manor was built 111 years ago by furniture manufacturer Henry Fraser for his wife Pandora, who is depicted with their child in a lovely stained glass window. Tatargil also purchased the parking lot behind the house along with what used to be a NAPA Auto Parts store and a small bar, so the entire block can be transformed into a high-class luxury event space for the designer market. Spokesperson Connie Lineberry is excited by the prospects, “The plan is, on the corner of Oak and Green, to build a craft brewery and restaurant.” But, she says, it won’t be just another craft brewery: Tatargil, who is “sinking millions into High Point,” brings, not only capital but vision to the city, as well. “He truly is one of the most visionary and innovative people,” she says.

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o the economy in High Point is percolating. Charles Simmons points to fifteen buildings that have been sold in the last fifteen months, one going for $6 million, all fetching a great deal more than similar units in neighboring cities would. But as we wandered around the centrally located Depot, we encounter almost no one. “Nothing but ghosts here,” he says. “Ghosts don’t buy much coffee, they don’t go to restaurants. On the other hand, twice a year, the most stylish women you ever saw are here. You’d think you were on the corner of Hollywood and Vine.” We end our tour on Commerce Street, across from the Commerce & Design Building, where these words paraphrased from a sermon by John Winthrop are enshrined: “A city upon a hill with the eyes of all the world upon it.” It’s high time we all gave High Point another look. OH Billy Ingram plans to spend a lot more time in High Point this year, beginning with the buffet at Pizza Inn, whose departed GSO locations he has been mourning for years. His moveable feast, however, is dependent on your buying his book about Greensboro — Hamburger²2. The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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A Man of Moral Fiber On the fortieth anniversary of his Rug Business, High Point’s Zaki Khalifa shares the story of an American Dream that almost wasn’t By Maria Johnson • Photograph by Amy Freeman

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e came to High Point to visit. He ended up staying. That was forty years ago. In that time, Zaki Khalifa — all 5-foot-10, 167 pounds of him — has become a pillar of the community, widely respected and honored. He has accepted every business and humanitarian award that the city can bestow. He has built a successful business, Zaki Oriental Rugs, which claims the largest selection of fine handmade rugs in the United States. Zaki’s customers dot the globe, but there’s only one place they can buy his rugs: a 100,000 square-foot showroom on South Main Street in High Point. Zaki has shared the bounty. A native of Pakistan and a naturalized U.S. citizen, he has given his adopted hometown money, time, real estate and, perhaps most important, friendship. For many of his American friends, he is the only Muslim they know, their goto guy on all matters Islamic. They describe him as humble. Kind. Brilliant. A good listener. A man with an open heart and mind. You can hear the affection in what they call him: Zaki. Just Zaki. Recently, Zaki, 71, reflected on his life before and after he landed in High Point. In a soft and measured voice, he spoke plainly, at times bluntly, at times tearfully. He recounted his privileged upbringing in Pakistan, where he witnessed mutual admiration between Christians and Muslims, and his decision, under the influence of a dear friend from High Point, to leave behind a comfortable life for an uphill slog in a different world. He also talked about the two nonprofit organizations backed by him and his wife, Rashida: an Alamance County health clinic for low-income people; and a foundation that educates and feeds poor children in Pakistan, partly an attempt to keep them from falling in with terrorists and becoming suicide bombers. Both organizations echo the philanthropic efforts of Zaki’s grandfather, the lifetime president of Pakistan’s largest social welfare organization. “It’s keeping with the family tradition,” says Zaki.

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He was raised by his grandparents, not because his parents couldn’t care for him, but because his paternal grandfather declared it would be so. Zaki was the first child of a first child, a prized slot in the family hierarchy, and his grandfather decided, even before Zaki was born, that this special grandchild would enter the world in his home and stay there. Zaki’s mother lived with them, in the bustling city of Lahore, away from Zaki’s father, who worked as a government official in a nearby town. When Zaki was a year old, his grandfather announced that Zaki’s mother could stay or she could return to her husband. She joined her husband. Neither she nor Zaki’s father protested the grandfather’s decree. “His word was law,” says Zaki. “Granted, my grandfather’s authority was unusual, even for that part of the world, but still grandparents generally have much The Art & Soul of Greensboro

more say in the life of their grandchildren than they do here in the United States.” Outside of the family, Zaki’s grandfather’s opinions were equally weighty. He was a prosperous attorney, politically connected. When India won independence from Britain in 1947, two years after Zaki was born, his grandfather represented his homeland at roundtable discussions in England to divide the subcontinent into India and Pakistan. He was elected speaker of the house in Pakistan’s new Parliament. Zaki grew up learning the social graces that came with living among educated and influential people. “I was taken to the most formal parties hosted by the government in honor of visiting heads of state. I would have a separate invitation in my name,” he says. His grandfather required Zaki to sit in the gallery of Parliament one day a week and watch him preside from the speaker’s chair. The discipline and civility of the proceedings made a lasting impression on young Zaki. “One day, when the deputy speaker of the house raised his voice, I remember distinctly that my grandfather warned him to mind his tone. He lowered his tone. A few minutes later when his voice was raised again, my grandfather threw him out. He could not enter again until he gave an unconditional, written apology. Only when it was accepted was he allowed to return — something you don’t see in the world today,” says Zaki. Zaki’s grandfather was a strict Muslim, schooled from a young age by orthodox scholars. He had memorized the Quran by age 7. But he also studied Christianity and the Western world. He earned a master’s degree in English by age 18, then his father — the director of education in British-ruled India at a time when few native Indians held key government posts — sent him to Cambridge University in England, where he pocketed three more degrees, including Doctor of Law. Zaki received diverse schooling, too. His grandfather could have sent him to any private school, but he enrolled Zaki in Pakistan’s best public schools, which employed both Muslim and Christian teachers. Zaki studied for two years at Islamia College, where one dean was Muslim, one Christian. After Zaki’s grandfather died, his parents sent him to Forman Christian College, which was run by Christian missionaries. The teachers went to lengths to learn more about their Muslim students. “Most prominent amongst them was my honorable professor of political science, Dr. Carl Wheeless,” says Zaki. “He even went to the villages to see the students’ families. It would be difficult for Americans to imagine how primitive living conditions were in the villages, especially in the ’50s and ’60s, but Dr. Wheeless was happy to visit, even when it involved an overnight stay.” Sitting on a cloth-covered sofa in his simply furnished office, Zaki reaches for his handkerchief as he talks about his former professors. They did a better job of promoting good relations than any American embassy employee, he says. “I’m getting emotional because this is starting to run before me like a movie,” he says. “These educators commanded the level of respect that is beyond the imagination of my American friends here.”

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He arrived in the United States on July 4, 1976, the day of the country’s Bicentennial. Tall ships bristled in New York Harbor as Zaki’s plane descended. He jokes now that he thought the ships had assembled to welcome him. The reality was starkly different. Two immigration officials interrogated him for ninety minutes. They did not believe he was here to explore business opportunities. “They said that young people like me, who were from poor Asian countries, had no idea how to explore business opportunities,” says Zaki. The officials recommended him for deportation and shunted him to another functionary, who pulled everything from Zaki’s two suitcases. He stopped when he came to a box that held a Pan American World Airways frequent flyer card, as well as a membership card for InterContinental Hotels. “He started apologizing profusely,” says Zaki. “He thought I must be a gentleman businessman. I owe my first entry to the U.S. to those two pieces of plastic,” Zaki says. The date of his arrival was coincidental, but the symbolism was apt. Zaki was making a declaration of independence. Fresh from visiting Switzerland and England, he was searching for a place to settle in the West. His grandfather would never have allowed it; he would have insisted that Zaki stay in Pakistan and continue the family’s legacy of service. But his grandfather was gone, and Zaki, who’d spent two years working as a management trainee in a bank in Karachi, the country’s biggest city, was ready to make his own way. He wanted to start a rug business, and he didn’t want to do it in his homeland. “The army was taking over again and again. It was a military dictatorship. That’s what bothered me a lot,” he says. While staying with a cousin in New York, he called his former professor, Wheeless, who, like most educators at Forman Christian College, had taught there for a few years, then returned to the United States. Wheeless was chairman of the department of history and political science at High Point College, now High Point University. He invited Zaki to stay with him and his wife, Mary. Zaki accepted. He knew nothing about High Point. He intended only to refresh his friendship with the Wheelesses. It was summertime, during the holy month of the Ramadan, which requires observant Muslims to pray intensely and fast from dawn to dusk. The Wheelesses usually ate supper promptly at 6 p.m., but during Zaki’s stay, they never ate before the sun went down, when he could join them. “I’ve never forgotten that,” says Zaki. Another thing Zaki couldn’t shake: Carl Wheeless’ insistence that he open his rug store in High Point, the home of an international home furnishings market. The city also was a center of furniture manufacturing, and, at the time, had more retail square footage devoted to furniture than anywhere in the world. Zaki had no money. Pakistan forbade the transfer of funds outside the country. Wheeless had an answer for that, too: an introduction to Fred Alexander, the president of High Point Bank. Zaki’s friends and family thought he was nuts to consider High Point. He understood why. He was a big-city kid, used to the depth and breadth of culture in cities like Lahore and Karachi. High Point was, by comparison, a tiny village. At 31, Zaki was a single man and a devout Muslim. His social life in

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High Point would be severely limited. He knew of only one other Pakistani or Muslim in town, a professor at High Point College. There were no mosques around. But he had the Wheelesses and their friends. And he had a financial backer. He took a chance in 1977. Zaki secured a loan from Alexander, rented a store on Main Street and moved into an apartment. He had no furniture. He slept on a bare floor. His softest rugs were for sale, not for sleeping. He prayed at home. At work, he worshipped behind a closed door. He ate lunch at Holiday Inn downtown. A bowl of vegetable soup with bread cost a dollar. For supper, he went to the K&W Cafeteria, where he bought three cups of vegetables for 25 cents each. A biscuit was 10 cents. “My dinner cost 85 cents, plus tax,” he says. “That went on for a long, long time.”

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Lithe and spry for his age, Zaki glides around his showroom with ease. An inveterate walker, he says he has ambled through every section of High Point to familiarize himself with the town. “I have never felt threatened,” he says. He burns more calories by walking around his cavernous showroom, where the inventory of 12,000 to 15,000 handmade rugs lie in short stacks. When customers want to see the goods, Zaki and his assistants stoop, grab and flip the edges of rugs like dense pages of gigantic books. Zaki personally selects each piece during buying trips to Pakistan, India, Iran and Turkey. His rugs range in price from $29 for a 1-by-2 foot wool rug, to half a million dollars for a 16-by26 foot silk masterpiece. Approximately 7,000 rugs fly out of the showroom every year. Ninety percent go to American addresses, 10 percent to foreign countries. Zaki won’t divulge his customers’ names, but he says they include business executives, politicians, entertainers and other celebrities, many of whom have referred their friends. In forty years, Zaki’s High Point customers never have accounted for more than one percent of annual sales. But Zaki says he never thought about setting up shop in a bigger city. Rug merchants, he knew from the beginning, had a poor reputation. An iterant lot, they often skipped town, leaving behind frayed rugs and nerves. Zaki’s plan was to stay put, be accountable for what he sold, and educate people about Oriental rugs. “I tell my customers, ‘You know, there is a salesman who is more dangerous than a used car salesman, and that’s rug salesman.’ There is a reason: There is nobody as ignorant of cars as they are about Oriental rugs, and that ignorance is likely to be exploited.” Zaki survived by attracting out-of-town customers, mostly by word of mouth. “I was invited to speak to many groups from many towns and states on many subjects: religion, culture, rugs, business ethics, the Soviet Union invasion of Afghanistan, the Iranian crisis after the shah was overthrown, the subdivision of the Indian subcontinent, the standard of living in poor countries compared to the standard of living in the United States,” he says. “Maybe that helped.” So did his customer service and the quality of what he was selling. In forty years, the Central North Carolina Better Business Bureau has The Art & Soul of Greensboro


received no complaints about Zaki Oriental Rugs. “To be in business forty years and never have a complaint filed with the BBB – yeah, it’s a rarity,” says Kevin Hinterberger, president of the local BBB. Zaki has been Mr. Main Street U.S.A. in more ways than one. When he outgrew his first store at 138 South Main Street, he built a bigger one at 1634 North Main Street. When he outgrew that location, he donated the building to the Chamber of Commerce and built his third and current showroom at 600 South Main Street. He donated yet another Main Street building to High Point Community Against Violence, an agency that works with High Point Police and the state prison system to give job training and support to people who have been convicted of violent crimes. His faithfulness to High Point has won him many friends. They regularly seek his gentle advice on business and personal matters. “I have a cousin who pulls my leg. He says, ‘You should charge $200 an hour for consulting, you’d make more money,’” Zaki says, laughing. His specialty since 9/11: Answering questions about Muslims abroad and locally. Zaki isn’t as rare as he used to be. He estimates there are 700 Muslim households in High Point and the surrounding smaller towns. High Point is now home to two mosques. A third is under construction. Many local Muslims work for textile and apparel businesses. Their bosses flock to Zaki with questions about situations involving cultural differences. “Just about every time, I find out it’s the result of them having no communication with their Muslim employees,” says Zaki. “There’s no conversation. I’m glad they come to me; it’s part of my mission to help promote understanding between people of different ethnic backgrounds, but for God’s sake, talk to your employees. Ask them.”

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By age 55, Zaki was a confirmed bachelor in the eyes of everyone but a rug merchant friend in India. He kept introducing Zaki to candidates. Nothing took. Then, in the year 2000, his friend flew him from Calcutta to Mumbai to meet Rashida Wawda. She was 37, older and less flashy than the other women his friend had introduced him to. Also a Muslim, Rashida was a schoolteacher and a yoga teacher. “She wasn’t a stay-at-home girl waiting for a proposal,” says Zaki. They lunched with a throng of relatives and friends. After lunch, they talked for three hours, always with chaperones hovering, never sitting closer than arm’s length. By sunset, Zaki proposed. “I thought she would be a sincere life partner and that she would be good to my family. It turned out that way. I am fortunate,” he says. The two of them are dedicated to helping others. Rashida’s focus is the Al-Aqsa Community Clinic, a health clinic that she founded with her friend, Amal Khdour. The clinic provides care for people who cannot afford insurance or medical treatment elsewhere. Thirty-four doctors and 100 other volunteers staff the clinic, which used to be located in Greensboro but moved to a bigger location in Burlington last year.

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“A clinic run by Muslims providing services for all,” reads the AlAqsa website. Zaki’s pet cause is a foundation called Friends of Aabroo, which he started in Pakistan several years ago. He registered the organization as a 501(C)(3) in The Art & Soul of Greensboro

the United States last year. Aabroo is a Farsi word for dignity and integrity. The foundation operates free schools for 4,000 boys and girls around Lahore. Many of the students are orphans. All of the teachers are women. “They are more nurturing, especially with small children,” says Zaki. Volunteers feed lunch to the students. Often, it’s the only daily meal the children get. The challenge, Zaki says, is to persuade impoverished parents and guardians to let the children attend school instead of sending them to menial jobs for 15 to 20 cents a day. He admits that low wages await the older teenagers and young adults who do the tedious work of hand-knotting the rugs he buys from vendors. “At least they make both ends meet,” he says. “They’re a little better off.” Those workers’ children would be welcome at the Friends of Aabroo schools, too, he says. More education in that part of the world would make everyone safer. With no hope for a better life, and little exposure to outside ideas, children can become easy marks for terrorist recruiters, who literally promise them heaven for sacrificing themselves. “Until we can bring those kids into school to make sure they are properly educated, properly trained, there is no way we can put an end to this terrorism,” Zaki says. He aims to raise enough money through the foundation to construct school buildings for all Aabroo students and those on the waiting list. He realizes that many Americans are nervous about strengthening relations with Muslims at a time when some Muslims are intent on harming the United States, but he sees hope in the numbers. “According to some surveys, .016 percent of Muslims are willing to hurt non-Muslims, and, by the way, they’re killing more Muslims than they are killing non-Muslims,” he says. “If we are going to fight that, we need more than 99 percent of Muslims on our side, rather than staying away from them.”

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Reach out. Branch out. Put your money where your mouth is. That’s Zaki’s advice on global and local issues. He wishes more High Pointers would invest in local charities and businesses. “They don’t invest nearly enough in this town,” he says. And he would like to see more people, especially affluent people, push themselves outside their normal confines. “We all have an obligation to get to know something about the world today that we didn’t know yesterday, and the closer the area is to us, the greater the obligation,” he says. “So, do we get to know something about our town, or do we stay very comfortable in our own very, very small comfort zone? If we have lunch and dinner with the same people, and if we go dancing in the ballroom and in the country club with the same people, we may consider ourselves sophisticated, but the reality is exactly to the other extreme.” OH Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry. January 2017

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Story of a House

A Thoroughly Modern Love Story Finding the unexpected in High Point’s Emerywood By Cynthia Adams • Photographs by Amy Freeman

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tephanie James Goldman, wearing fawn-colored slacks and knee-high suede boots, opens the door into the Vermont flagstone-floored foyer and welcomes visitors with a deep smile. She hasn’t lived in this remodeled midcentury home for very long, but for the first time in her life she feels very happily at home. She says this, her eyes moistening, as she launches a tour of the home of her dreams. Further, as a newlywed of exactly one year, she blushes that her life now feels complete. But none of this contentment of heart and home came without hiccups. Stephanie admits that given she and her husband, Michael Goldman, are both involved in the furniture industry (she is a designer running her own dedicated studio within Furnitureland South; he owns Goldman & Company, a business that supplies glass, stone, metal and wood components to furniture manufacturers), both husband and wife have strong ideas about aesthetic matters. The refurbishment and furnishing of this particular house, her first contemporary residence after living in traditional ones, grew into “one of the bigger challenges of my life.” Getting to the finish line involved a marriage of tastes for the newlyweds. Outfitting the house — now a study in elegant restraint, with luxe finishes, subtle and organic materials and soaring spaces — was nearly as challenging as finding the Hillcrest Drive home to begin with. “We rode around and around and looked and looked for a house of this type,” says Stephanie. ‘My husband grew up with modern style, and he lived it and loved it.” The Goldmans knew what they wanted. They simply couldn’t find it. When the couple finally did spot it, the house was occupied and not on the market. What they saw were the externals — the house’s good midcentury bones, the great setting, the wonderful neighborhood. They were largely unaware of some of the challenges the house posed — such as a long-term leak that was going to pose a significant uh-oh. They just saw their true home waiting for them. The Goldmans approached the owners and worked out a deal.

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he house has inspired devotion in its previous owners for nearly seventy years. The residence, known as the R. Frank Dalton House, was built circa 1949. The builder, Frank Dalton, was a key figure in the Snow Lumber Company. This High Point company was vital to the city’s quickly developing lumber and furniture industries both of which took off in the late 1880s and emerged as powerhouses together. Snow Lumber would make its fortune supplying lumber to an industry that was swiftly expanding — and growing High Point right along with it exponentially. With his success in the lumber trade, Dalton could build a showplace and use the finest materials. He chose to build a standout of a home in High Point’s poshest neighborhood, which was now the well-established Emerywood rather than downtown, a location that captains of industry had once preferred. As for Emerywood, most of the existing architecture was strictly traditional. Yet Dalton and his wife, Margaret Haywood, (who had a fascination for California style), were interested in building something quite different — something completely modern. When finished, The High Point Enterprise explained in 1951, that it was “a modern home, done with grace. . .” Its grace was derived from the fact that it was meant to be subdued and

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organic — to blend with its natural setting rather than stand out. The Dalton’s one-story modern residence is of a style that was popular in the 1930s to the 1940s. As an architectural style, Modernist was a departure, a pronouncement: The times, they are a’changing. Although it was subtle and low-slung, the house drew attention as it was such a deliberate contrast to Emerywood’s dominant, traditionalist style. “I included the house in the Architecture of High Point book, where I call it ‘likely the earliest example of Modernist architecture in High Point,” writes Benjamin Briggs, director of Preservation Greensboro. According to preservation records, the Dalton’s Modernist house, when it was constructed, featured three Crab Orchard stone chimneys. It was built with board-and-batten redwood siding, and Crab Orchard stone veneer was applied on certain lower portions. It was, both in exterior and interior, recognizably progressive. The interior featured unusual and avantgarde touches — an indoor “grilling area,” for example, and bar in one den that was intended to impart the feeling of camping out. Many of the interior floors were covered in Vermont flagstone, with under-floor heating installed. The Daltons created extended storage areas for hanging and rotating artwork. While much of the house featured flat roofs, portions had been designed with a sloping roof that allowed for clerestory windows and interior ceilings that seemed to soar. The Dalton residence was further enlarged in a subsequent renovation in 1959 with the enclosure an open patio adjacent to the kitchen. This renovation achieved a U-shape interior. A former breezeway and greenhouse (added in 1978) were also incorporated into the house. The enclosed breezeway connected both the garage and greenhouse. Additional living space now approached 5,000 square feet; to say the house was spacious was an understatement. In time, it also occupied two lots, thanks to a twist of fate. Fortunately, a relative had sold the Daltons the lot next door, doubling the size of theirs — unusual for an in-town residence. The additional lot enhanced the Daltons’ desired plan, to create a deeply wooded setting and harmonious landscape for their showcase, albeit discreet, home. While Stephanie is a true fan of the Modernist house, she admits this is a departure for her. Michael Goldman was the impetus for finding a midcentury dwelling, Stephanie explains. He heavily favored the

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sparseness of the period and wanted it for the couple’s first home together. Midcentury was also part of his own past; he had lived in modern houses elsewhere as his parents moved to various states wherever his rabbi father was assigned to a synagogue. “He grew up with modern,” Stephanie explains, “living in places like Philadelphia, Colorado.” Stephanie liked the idea of midcentury, saying it would be challenging and fun for her to design, offering a clean canvas. “Designers lean towards straight lines,” she says. And she had no trouble with selling her traditional home, rebooting her life, and going for the Modern. She also admired the spans of glass that Modern offered — and the effective blurring of outdoors with the interior. “I work inside all the time,” Stephanie says. “I love that we are integrating the outdoors.” The Dalton house offered a parklike setting and heavy plantings provided ample privacy despite the walls of windows. The Goldmans are only the third owners of the Dalton house. “And the people who built it (the Daltons) were enamored of California architecture,” says Stephanie. In fact, the Daltons had such an interest in and emphasis on the California touch in all things, that they imported redwoods from the West Coast for planting in their new home’s landscape. Eventually, the Goldman’s architect, Peter Freeman, would even uncover the original landscaping plans for the property, something of special significance for an avid gardener like Stephanie. According to the conversation between Stephanie and the Daltons’ son, Frank, his parents were fond of the work of Harwell Hamilton Harris, an architect transplanted from the Golden State who was known for his work in Southern California. “He practiced a more international style with a California bent à la Richard Neutra,” says Freeman. Neutra, an Austrian-American architect, spent much of his career also working in Southern Calfornia.

I

n remodeling their new home, the Goldmans were determined to use High Point resources and talent. “We stayed with (using) local people,” says Stephanie. Fortunately for them, Freeman, of Freeman Kennett Architects in High Point, happens to be not only a local talent, but especially well-versed in the style of the Goldman’s new midcentury jewel as well. He owns a home of the same vintage and type only a short distance away in Emerywood, one that had once belonged to his parents that he and his wife, Amy, had bought and restored. Freeman also has been long active in High Point’s Historic Preservation Commission. He researched the Daltons’ house and found the original plans, eliminating all guesswork — Freeman had the proof needed to know exactly what had been done in the prior renovations. “I have a couple of actual blueprints of the original 1949 drawings for the house. The architect is Charles A. Kendall of High Point as noted in the title block. I also have a print from the later addition designed by Mays & Parks Associates architects of High Point,” says Freeman. Here was the Dalton house, revealed. “It is easy to see that the original architect, Kendall, as well as the subsequent architects, William Mays Jr. and Robert Parks, understood the modern concept of blurring the lines between interior and exterior through the use of expanses of glass, clerestories and daylighting,” says Freeman. He was interested in how the prior architects synthesized the exterior and interior designs as a whole.

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“The organization of the house on the site was arranged in an ‘L,’ focused on a grand terrace on the north. The later addition, made possible by the acquisition of another lot to the east, provided an opportunity to define the grand terrace as an ‘outdoor room’ creating a more intimate scale and allowing more privacy for outdoor living.” Open to the outdoors, verdant and yet private, Freeman explains, were all factors attracting the Goldmans to the style of residence and contributing to the lifestyle the property represented. The synthesis of indoor/outdoor living in the house’s and grounds’ original design that the Goldmans found so inviting was more common on the West Coast but had found its way East. In 1959, the redesign of the Dalton house had allowed for a new entry and living space, “but conceptually, further blurred the sense of indoors and outdoors by creating additional gateways between. The concept also called in question the formal notion of the front entry, and casual living, in contrast to the traditional revival styles prominent in the Emerywood neighborhood,” says Freeman. He set out to open the house further as the couple preferred, respecting and enhancing the original design. Freeman’s firm removed interior partition walls and refashioned previously covered clerestory windows to provide daylight. Light flooded spaces where needed, just as hoped. The kitchen remodel was integral to lending a historic, yet dated home a sense of new functionality and livability and all-important flow. “The feature I like most about the house is the flow, the U shape,” says Stephanie, “the symmetrical sense.” Yes, the layout is fluid, and the house also whispers something that is rarer to find: subtlety. Freeman opened the kitchen up and made it a polished, luxuriously refined, space. It is sleekly upscale, with understated black cabinetry and gleaming white surfaces. A local High Point firm, Muckridge Custom Kitchens & Baths, was engaged.

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“Our rearrangement of the kitchen for instance, included organic treatment of the cabinetry including waterfall countertops to blur lines but arranged on a formal axis flanking the terrace to enhance the existing plan,” Freeman says. The kitchen hood became something of a sculptural element, he says, marking the axis of the kitchen itself, but also providing a focal point where the couple can entertain family and guests, and where Michael can pursue his love of cooking. “Obscured views into the kitchen mean that food preparation is not highly visible from the front entry areas, but bleed into the adjacent living spaces.” Freeman designed a bar within the kitchen and teamed with Michael to build a unique feature it comprised. “The new bar area is very visible from the original entry. It was treated like furniture, very finished and includes a backlit, contemporary wine rack designed by Freeman Kennett and built by Michael’s company.” Both the interior and exterior planes of the house benefited from large new windows for which Stephanie insisted on sharp, crisp lines. The result, notes Freeman, is better visibility as well as aesthetic punch. In the private areas, luxurious surfaces and material refinements (such as sculpturally beautiful spa baths) give the house an air of calm and understated beauty. Freeman explains that the design for the enlargement of the master bedroom “incorporated a more private sleeping alcove and additional seating space to take advantage of the light from an expanse of windows from opposite sides of the room.” And just as he hoped, Freeman says the replacement of covered-over clerestory windows in the master bathroom “provides a flood of light to the welldetailed bright and airy space.” The materials employed are a range of calming neutrals in tones of oyster and beige. The master bathroom also features the work of a local cabinetmaker: a low-slung walnut cabinet that appears to float. “This,” Stephanie says with pride, “was my idea.” Stephanie acknowledges, “I listened to Peter a lot, but I also had my own vision of everything [looking] as clean as possible.” She is a successful designer, of course, and so is her husband, who fabricates furnishings. And so, too, is the architect, who designs on a daily basis, just as his father and grandfather did before him. Yet the trio managed to honor each other’s strengths. And the outcome, this updated stunner of a vintage home, is a manifestation of their best. Workmen arrive to deliver furniture, and Stephanie says she is still hanging artwork. Making decisions for the furnishing of her own home — this massive job that was so personal for the couple — has been among the most difficult ever, she confesses. She deliberated everything and edited everything again and again. With access to virtually everything, she had to curate carefully. “I didn’t want it to look like a furniture store!” It is almost done — apart from some tweaking to the greenhouse interior. And she is still involved with the grounds themselves. The original plans for the grounds’ plantings inspire her to wander around the property and think about what is needed. Stephanie loves to grab her clippers and head outdoors to work whenever she has time off. She has been so aggressive in cutting and weeding that “Michael has taken my clippers away,” she laughs — her appetite for clipping is a running joke between them. There is a special quality that the Goldmans have found here; a sense of peace. Michael travels extensively with his work. Stephanie is constantly working with clients around the globe. In the space of a week, their travels have taken them in different directions, him to Asia and her to Florida. So coming home takes on a deeper significance for the couple. “I love where I live,” says Stephanie. Given the serenity brought indoors, thanks to enormous windows importing a million dollar view, what’s not to love? OH Cynthia Adams writes for O.Henry and Seasons.

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What a severe yet master artist old Winter is . . . No longer the canvas and the pigments, but the marble and the chisel. — John Burroughs, “The Snow-Walkers” By Ash Alder

Begin Again

In many cultures, the first day of the year is considered to be a sacred time of spiritual rebirth and good fortune — a time to cleanse the soul and reopen one’s mind to the notion that anything is possible. Draw yourself a lavender salt bath. Light a beeswax candle. Indulge your senses with woodsy and earthy aromas such as cedarwood and sage, noticing how they recharge, calm and nurture you. Be gentle with yourself on this first day of January. Celebrate exactly where you are — in this moment — and allow yourself to imagine the New Year unfolding perfectly. Look out the window, where the piebald gypsy cat drinks slowly from the pedestal birdbath. Notice the bare lawn, the naked branches stark against the bright, clear sky. Experience the beauty of this barren season, of being open and willing to receive infinite blessings. There’s nothing to do but breathe and trust life. Breathe and trust life . . .

Slice the Ginger

The Quadrantids meteor shower will peak on the night of Wednesday, January 4, until the wee morning hours of Thursday, Jan. 5. Named for Quadrans Muralis, a defunct constellation once found between the constellations of Boötes and Draco, near the tail of Ursa Major, the Quadrantids is one of the strongest meteor showers of the year. Thankfully, a first quarter moon will make for good viewing conditions. Speaking of Twelfth Night (January 5), the eve of

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Epiphany marks the end of the Christmas season and commemorates the arrival of the Magi, who honored the Infant Jesus with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Indeed it is a night of merrymaking and reverie. That said, if you’re seeking a hangover cure come Epiphany (January 6), ginger tea is an excellent and delicious home remedy.

Here’s what you’ll need:

4–6 thin slices raw ginger (more if you like a tea that bites) 1 1/2 –½ 2 cups water Juice from 1/2 lime, or to taste 1–2 tablespoons honey or agave nectar (optional)

And here’s what you’ll need to do: Boil ginger in water for no less than 10 minutes. You really can’t over do it, so load up on ginger and simmer to your heart’s content. Remove from heat; add lime juice and honey or nectar. Sip slowly and allow your world to recalibrate. Mercury shifts from retrograde to direct on Sunday, January 8. It’s time to take action. Plant the tree. Tackle your garden to-do list. And since Saturday, January 28, marks the celebration of the Chinese New Year of the Fire Rooster, a little advice from the bird: Be bold; live loud; don’t hold back. OH

The days are short
 The sun a spark
 Hung thin between
 The dark and dark.
 — John Updike, “January,” A Child’s Calendar

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8

January 2–29 A LITTLE HELP FROM THEIR FRIENDS. Current and promised acquisitions comprise The Kindness of Friends: Gifts in Honor of the 75th Anniversary. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

January 6–8 WORTH THE DRIVE. 9 a.m. If you need a post-holiday boost, then get in the car and motor

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to the coast for Art in Bloom, an exhibition and competition of floral arrangements inspired by art from the vaults of Wilmington’s Cameron Art Museum. Vote for your favorite and support two causes: the museum and the New Hanover Garden Club’s Hands On community projects. Blockade Runner Beach Resort, 275 Waynick Boulevard, Wrightsville Beach. Tickets: (910) 2562251 or cameronartmuseum.org.

January 8 KNOTS LANDING. Noon to 4 p.m. Wedding

Backstory 1/

18

costs needn’t be a veil of tears. Plan your nuptials wisely by meeting photographers, florists and other professionals at The Wedding Fair. Embassy Suites Hotel, 204 Centrepoint Drive, Greensboro. Tickets: 33bride.com.

January 8 & 22 PERSONAL FOWLS. 3 p.m. Have a, well, gander at waterfowl from the perch of a pontoon. Lake Townsend, 6332 Townsend Road, Browns Summit. To reserve: (336) 373-3741.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Swoonworthy

19 & 20

1/

January 12 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Susan Rivers, author of The Second Mrs. Hockaday. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

January 13 SWARM UP. Catch a buzz with the Greensboro Swarm, NBA Development League for the Charlotte Hornets. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Chili-ax! 1/

28

(336) 907-3600 or gsoswarm.com or ticketmaster.com. AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Sam Peterson, author of Trunky: A Memoir of Institutionalism and Southern Hospitality. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

January 13 & 14 MOTHER TRUCKERS. 7 p.m. It’s been ramped

Travis-T 1/

29

up a notch: Monster Jam Triple Threat series, featuring the most extreme MJ athletes, roars into town. Cheer for old faves, such as Graver Digger, as well as El Toro Loco, Monster Mutt Rottweiler and more. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

January 14 MOONLIGHT SERENADE. 6 p.m. Hear the music synonymous with the Greatest Generation from the Glenn Miller Orchestra. Carolina January 2017

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HappyNewYear n

e

a

r

l

y

70 years as a full service jeweler

Jewelry and watch repair • Insurance appraisals • Custom designs

Arts Calendar Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

January 15 OUTTA (SECOND) SIGHT. 2 p.m. From Daphne Du Maurier’s Don’t Look Now to Stephen King’s The Shining, mysteries are often full of seers. Learn how to bring them to life at “Creating Characters with Psychic Abilities,” led by Angie Harmon (a seer herself), courtesy of Triad Chapter of Sisters in Crime. High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: murderwewrite.org.

January 18

CASS Jewelers

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BACKSTORY. 10 a.m. Was he a scalawag or a scapegoat? Find out the truth about Gen. James Longstreet from historian John Peacock, Ph.D., at a Guild Meeting. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 8851859 or highpointmuseum.org. AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Leonard Poppe, author of Ramone’s Tale. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

January 19 & 21 SWOONWORTHY. 8 p.m. Just say “da” to Greensboro Symphony’s concert, “Russian Romantics,” a program of works by Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky and Rachmaninov, with guest pianist and International Tchaikovsky Competition winner Dmitry Masleev. Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 335-5456 or greensborosymphony.org.

January 19–22 NOCTURNE. For the second year, David Brendan Hopes is the winner of the New Play Project. See the Drama Center’s staging of his latest, Night Music, about two boys coming of age. Performance times vary. Stephen D. Hyers Theatre, Cultural Center, 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2974 or greensboro-nc.gov.

January 20 DMITRY AND DMITRY. 8 p.m. Meaning,

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Arts Calendar Sitkovetsky and Masleev, guest pianist for the Chamber series, “Sitkovetsky & Friends.” UNCG School of Music Recital Hall, 100 McIver Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 335-5456 or greensborosymphony.org.

January 21 STANDUP SHOWDOWN. 7:30 p.m. Have the last laugh as Idiot Box sends in the clowns for the finals of the Ultimate Comic Challenge, N.C.’s biggest standup comedy competition. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

January 23 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Nancy Peacock, author of The Life and Times of Persimmon Wilson. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

January 28 CHILI-AX! 8 a.m. Life does, in fact, amount to a hill of beans at the Sixth Annual Chili Challenge. Eat up! Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3732402 or gsofarmersmarket.org. IRON HORSE. 10 a.m. You know who we mean. Start the New Year right with a visit to the one, the only . . . blacksmith. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org. GRAND STRANDS. Hair-um Scarum! The theme of this year’s Big Hair Ball is “Midnight at the Oasis, an Arabian Night.” So come out for edgy fashions and tresses, food, drink and fun for a good cause: Family Service of the Piedmont. Elm Street Center, 203 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Tickets and info: family-service piedmont.org. AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet authors Steph Post (Lightwood), Paul Crenshaw and James Tate Hill (Academy Gothic). Scuppernong Books,

304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

January 28–April 23 I AM A CAMERA. See commentary on the human condition without a trace of human beings in Lucinda Devlin: Sightlines, featuring eighty-three of Devlin’s color photographs. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

January 29 TRAVIS-T. 8 p.m. Country star Travis Tritt strums and hums. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 3332605 or carolinatheatre.com.

January 29–February 19 THE PRICE IS RIGHT. Deemed one of Arthur Miller’s best, The Price interweaves the past and the present through lives of four people in a New

All ages, interests, abilities, and backgrounds are welcome.

www.MusicAcademyNC.org 336.379.8748 | 1327 Beaman Place, Greensboro, NC

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Arts Calendar York brownstone about to be demolished. Catch Triad Stage’s production of the 50-year-old play. Performance times vary. The Pyrle, 232 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or triadstage.org.

January 30 SCHOOL FOR SCHOOL. 11 a.m. and 5 p.m. Community representatives will keep you apprised of everything you need to know about school registration, pre-K, school health and nutrition, transportation and more at Liftoff to Learning. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, Greensboro. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

WEEKLY HAPPENINGS

Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.

Mondays

PAGE BURNERS. 3:30 p.m. Literature feeds the body as well as the soul at Book and Cook, classes using children’s books as inspiration for meals. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. To register: (336) 5742898 or gcmuseum.com.

BUZZING. 10 a.m. Your busy little bees engage in a Busy Bees preschool program focusing on music, movement, garden exploration and fun in the kitchen, at the Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. Preregistration: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com. CHAT-EAU. Noon. French leave? Au contraire! Join French Table, a conversation group. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

Tuesdays

January 31 SPACE CADET. 7 p.m. Astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson discusses the final frontier at the Bryan Series. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: ticketmaster.com.

READ ALL ABOUT IT. Treat your little ones to story times: BookWorms (ages 12–24 months) meets at 10 a.m.; Time for Twos meets at 11 a.m. Storyroom; Family Storytime for all ages meets at 6:30 p.m. High Point Public Library, 901 North

Happy

NEW YEAR from Kim Mathis & Associates

Buying or Selling in 2017? Start with a Top real estate Team that knows the Triad.

Wednesdays MUSSELS, WINE & MUSIC 7 until 10 p.m. Mussels with house-cut fries for $15, wines from $10–15 a bottle and live music by AM rOdeO — at Print Works Bistro, 702 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 379-0699 or printworksbistro.com/live_music.htm. ONCE UPON A TIME. 2 p.m. Afterschool Storytime convenes for children of all ages. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.

Practicing Commercial Real Estate by the Golden Rule Bill Strickland, CCIM Commercial Real Estate Broker/REALTOR 336.369.5974 | bstrickland@bipinc.com

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February is our 6th birthday!

Aggresive Marketing paired with Professional Service delivers Exceptional Results!!

Kim Mathis REALTOR®, Broker

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88 O.Henry

January 2017

Something special is scheduled for most weekends in February. Check our Facebook page for schedule

Gibsonville

Downtown Gibsonville behind the Red Caboose

Full of History, Antiques & Charm

GibsonvilleAntiques.com

Antiques & ColleCtibles

106 E. Railroad Ave, Gibsonville, NC

(336) 446-0234 Mon-Sat 10-6 & Sun 1-5

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Arts Calendar Thursdays TWICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Preschool Storytime convenes for children ages 3–5. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com. ALL THAT JAZZ. 5:30 until 8 p.m. Hear live, local jazz featuring Dave Fox Neill Clegg and Matt Kendrick and special guests, including Carrie Marshall on January 5 and Anne-Claire on January 12. All performances are at the O. Henry Hotel Social Lobby Bar. No cover. 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 854-2000 or www.ohenryhotel.com/jazz.htm. JAZZ NIGHT. 7 p.m. Fresh-ground, freshbrewed coffee is served with a side of jazz at Tate Street Coffee House, 334 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 275-2754 or tatestreetcoffeehouse.com. OPEN MIC COMEDY. 8–9:35 p.m. Local pros and amateurs take the mic at the Idiot Box, 2134 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 274-2699 or idiotboxers.com.

664. S. Stratford Road • Winston-Salem Less than 1 mile from Trader Joe’s!

336.765.5919 www.LastersFineArt.com

Fridays THE HALF OF IT. 5 p.m. Enjoy the hands-on exhibits and activities for half the cost of admission at $4 Fun Fridays. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com.

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

Saturdays TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 7 a.m. until noon. The produce is fresh and the cut fleurs belles. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville Street, Greensboro. Info: gsofarmersmarket.org. THRICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Hear a good yarn at Children’s Storytime. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 7631919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

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IMPROV COMEDY. 10 p.m. on Saturday, plus an 8 p.m. show appropriate for the whole family. The Idiot Boxers create scenes on the spot and build upon the ideas of others, creating shows that are one-of-a-kind — at the Idiot Box, 2134 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 274-2699 or idiotboxers.com.

Sundays HALF FOR HALF-PINTS. 1 p.m. And grown-ups, too. A $4 admission, as opposed to the usual $8, will allow you entry to exhibits and more. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 5742898 or gcmuseum.com. MISSING YOUR GRANDMA? 3 p.m. Until it’s gone, tuck into Chef Felicia’s skillet-fried chicken, and mop that cornbread in, your choice, giblet gravy or potlikker. Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen, 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/fried_chicken.htm. OH

To add an event, email us at ohenrymagcalendar@gmail.com by the first of the month prior to the event.

We make you Smile! 336.288.4499 2016-D New Garden Road Greensboro, NC 27410 www.

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January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


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Food & Dining Food & Dining

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2214 Golden Gate Drive • Greensboro, NC Monday-Friday 10-6 • Saturday • 10-5 Sunday 1-5 Carriage_House@att.net

92 O.Henry

January 2017

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Hours: M-F 11-6, Sat 11-5 2274 Golden Gate Drive Golden Gate Shopping Center Greensboro, NC

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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

94 O.Henry

January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Wine and More! Arts & Culture The Art & Soul of Greensboro

January 2017

O.Henry 95


Arts & Culture

Bizet’s

Sandra Piques Eddy as Carmen

Melinda Whittington as Micaëla

Dinyar Vania as Don José

Stephanie Foley Davis as Mercedes

David Pershall as Escamillo

Donald Hartmann as Zuniga

January 13 & 15, 2017 UNCG (Aycock) Auditorium Tickets on sale now 336.272.0160 GreensboroOpera.org

96 O.Henry

January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


FEBRUARY 3 THROUGH JUNE 8, 2017

M.A.D

MOTORCYCLE. ART. DESIGN

GreenHillNC.org/MAD GREAT PARTIES. SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE. M.A.D | Motorcycle. Art. Design is a cutting edge art installation with 23 eclectic bikes from 1902 through today and will include a lifestyle section and “biker bar”.

Arts & Culture

BIKE RALLIES. HANDS ON ACTIVITIES.

200 N. Davie Street | Downtown Greensboro

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

January 2017

O.Henry 97


VIVID

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Reach

i n t e r i o r s

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Now carrying: CR Laine Furniture Currey & Company Lighting | Thibaut Fabric & Wallcoverings | Local Art Vintage Gifts & Accessories | Interior Design Services

513 S. Elm Street Greensboro, NC 27406 336-265-8628 www.vivid-interiors.com

getyoufound.com 336.790.6735 | 30 S. Elm St #401 | Greensboro, NC

Come. Sit. Heal. We strive to provide complete care for our patients. Preventive & Wellness Care • Hospitalization Medicine / Surgery • Dentistry • And more ...

Dr. John Wehe 120 W. Smith Street • Greensboro NC | 336.338.1840

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98 O.Henry

January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


SCHEDULE A TOUR NOW for the 2017-18 school year

A B’NAI SHALOM EDUCATION IS A GIFT FOR THEIR FUTURE Academic Excellence. Individual Attention. Affordable Tuition.

336.855.5091 • info@bnai-shalom.org • www.bnai-shalom.org • Greensboro, NC

For him, only the BEST will do. And his natural curiosity and thirst for knowledge are best fulfilled at Greensboro Montessori School, where children as young as 18-months-old are given the respect, encouragement and independence necessary to prepare for a lifetime of achievement.

TOURS EVERY WEDNESDAY AT 9AM

Come see how Greensboro Montessori School delivers the best in early childhood education and beyond.

Let us know you’re coming by calling 336-668-0119 or visiting thegms.org GMS1099_GMSAd_OHenry_Jan.indd 1

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

January 2017

12/9/16 12:31 PM

O.Henry 99


Area Schools Directory School Name

Focus

Grades

B’nai Shalom Day School

B’nai Shalom Day School is the Triad’s only toddler – 8 th grade Jewish independent school. We foster academic excellence, maximize individual student’s potential, and develop leadership skills in a dual curriculum (English and Hebrew). Aftercare and full day option available (7:30 am to 6:00 pm) as well as generous financial aid opportunities.

Toddler (Age 1) – 8 th Grade

804-A Winview Drive Greensboro, NC 27410 (336) 855-5091 www.bnai-shalom.org

Caldwell Academy

2900 Horse Pen Creek Road Greensboro, NC 27410 (336) 665-1161 www.caldwellacademy.org

Canterbury School

5400 Old Lake Jeanette Road Greensboro, NC 27455 (336) 288-2007 www.canterburygso.org

Greensboro Day School 5401 Lawndale Drive Greensboro, NC 27455 (336) 288-8590 www.greensboroday.org

Greensboro Montessori School 2856 Horse Pen Creek Road Greensboro, NC 27410 (336) 669-0119 www.thegms.org

High Point Christian Academy 800 Phillips Avenue High Point, NC 27262 (336) 841-8702 www.hpcacougars.org

High Point Friends School 800-A Quaker Lane High Point, NC 27262 (336) 886-5516 www.hpfs.org

Noble Academy

3310 Horse Pen Creek Road Greensboro, NC 27410 (336) 282-7044 www.nobleknights.org

100 O.Henry

January 2017

A nondenominational Christian school whose classical approach aligns with children’s Preschool developmental stages, appropriately challenging -12th them to reach their current potential for learning and to acquire a lifelong love of the learning process. Extended day and variable tuition available.

A PreK-8 Episcopal School with strong academics and a focus on educating the whole child - mind, body and spirit. Extended day and financial assistance available. Guilford County’s premier PreK-12 college preparatory school with challenging academics, focus on honor and values, providing unsurpassed resources and outstanding teachers. Our mission is to develop the intellectual, ethical, and interpersonal foundations students need to become constructive contributors to the world.

PreK–8th

PreK– 12th

Greensboro’s only authentic Montessori school where toddlers to teens achieve academic excellence through hands-on, multi-disciplinary Toddler learning. Students organically develop real(18 mo.) world skills in leadership, time management, –8th grade problem solving and social responsibility through Montessori’s innovative approach to education.

HPCA provides an academically rigorous environment rooted in a Biblical worldview. We are committed to ChristPreschool centered, quality education and academic -12th excellence in partnership with family and church within a loving, caring atmosphere. High Point Friends School instills academic excellence, self-confidence and leadership skills through experiential Preschool learning, extracurricular activities, and –8th service learning opportunities for students in Preschool – 8th grade. A K-12 independent school that specializes in working with students with an ADHD/LD diagnosis. Strong academics along with athletics, music, art, and drama are offered.

K–12

th

Enrollment Students: Faculty

90

860

380

791

Admission Requirements

Tuition

8:1

Admission is on a rolling basis. Meet with Director of Admissions, classroom visit, academic assessment (Pre-K and older), transcripts from current school.

$3,290-10,300 (preschool) $11,530$16,410 (K-8)

9:1

Open to all qualified students based upon academic records, admissions testing, personal interview, and teacher recommendations.

$1,200$10,395

8:1

Requirements vary per grade level but include: application, teacher evaluation forms, developmental assessment or classroom visit, transcripts from current school.

$5,600 - $8,000 (PreK) $16,240 (K-8)

8:1

Admission on a rolling basis. Begin accepting applications in the fall for admission to the following school year. For complete details, please visit www.greensboroday.org

$6,580 $22,500

240

Meet with Admissions Under 3 Director. Classroom visit years, 6:1; 4 years and and teacher assessment (for above, 10:1 students age 3 and older).

$8,232-$15,300

650

16:1

Admissions is on a rolling basis; inquiries, tours and interviews are on-going. For specific requirements please visit hpcacougars.org.

$7,125 - $9,305

14:1

Admission is based on academic records, placement $1,875-$6,000 (Preschool); testing, and teacher recommendations. A $9,597 (Lower); classroom visitation is also $10,242 (Middle) required prior to admittance.

196

175

8:1

Students need to have an average to above average IQ score and a diagnosis of ADHD and/or learning difference (we recognize CAPD) and a current psych-ed evaluation. Admission on a rolling basis.

K - $14,000 Grades 1-12 - $19,130 $19,960

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


School Name

Focus

Grades

Our Lady of Grace School

Academic excellence with faith and family values. New programs include Panther Cub 3 yr. old class, and two new special education programs for Reading/Writing disabilities and Autism.

3 years old to 8th grade

201 S. Chapman Street Greensboro, NC 27403 (336) 275-1522 www.olgsch.org

The Piedmont School

815 Old Mill Road High Point, NC 27265 (336) 883-0992 www.thepiedmontschool.com

St. Pius X Catholic School 2200 N. Elm Street Greensboro, NC 27408 (336) 273-9865 www.spxschool.com

Westchester Country Day School 2045 N. Old Greensboro Road High Point, NC 27265 (336) 869-2128 www.westchestercds.org

A wonderful K-12 independent school dedicated to providing an outstanding educational environment for students with an ADHD/LD diagnosis. Strong academics enhanced by music, art, drama, and athletics.

Catholic elementary school serving Pre-K through 8th grade, emphasizing Christian values and academic excellence in a nurturing environment. Westchester Country Day is a college preparatory school teaching and guiding students in grades PK-12 to strive for excellence in moral and ethical conduct, academics, the arts, and athletics.

K–12th

PK–8th

PK–12th

Enrollment Students: Faculty

Admission Requirements

250+

12:1

Application form, school transcript, current preschool teacher assessment, immunization form and admissions screening test.

82

6:1 word study, language arts, math. 12:1 all other subjects.

Enrollment is on a rolling basis. Requirements include an average to above average IQ, and either an ADHD diagnosis or another diagnosed learning disorder.

15:1

K-8 applicants must participate in a standardized assessment conducted by ABC Educational Services, Inc. Please visit www.spxschool.com for more information or contact the admissions office at 336-273-9865 to schedule a campus tour.

16:1

Admissions is on a rolling basis. Please visit www.westchestercds.org for more details or call the admissions office at (336) 8224005 to schedule a tour.

456

425

Tuition $3,500 $7,860

(see website for special programs)

$17,345 Grades 1-12, $13,925 Kindergarten. NC grants available.

$5,400 $8,376

$2,463 $16,990

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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January 2017

O.Henry 101


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102 O.Henry

January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Sometimes it’s smarter to lease than to sell your home. Call us when you think you’re there! Michelle will be pleased to discuss how Burkely Rental Homes can help you.

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O.Henry 103


HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Irving Park

HAS ARRIVED ...

Clothing, Accessories

Gifts & More!

1804 Pembroke Rd. • Greensboro, NC 27408 (Behind Irving Park Plaza) • 336.763.7908 Tues. - Fri. 11-6pm & Sat. 11-4pm www.facebook.com/Serendipity by Celeste

104 O.Henry

January 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


GreenScene

Matt Ray, Mary Guevara, Jarrett Willis, Cherece Webb, Brenda Williams, Donna Levi, Johnny Brower

Dillard's Grand Opening VIP Party

Benefiting the Greensboro Symphony Guild Wednesday, October 26, 2016 Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Daniel & Caroline Crupi Karen & Brad Smith

Mike Freville, Cameron Luth, Raymond Stockley, Kay White, Betsy Craft

Illona Harris, Leonora Bryant Wendy Contreras, Arnela Isakovic, Alexandra Martinez

Freddie Santigo, Marcus Ledbetter, Obby Atkinson, Raymond Stockley Sanela Behaderovich, Emma Jo Francis, Chris Holmes-Hill, Tamara Corbin, Reto Perez

Matt & Hilary Franklin Kayla Mellor, Sarah Stogner

John Mitchell, Lauren Lawler

Betsy & Philip Craft

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Sabrina Ward, Kiani Love, Melanie Martiarena

January 2017

O.Henry 105


GreenScene

Mittie Hall, Lauren Davis

A Legacy of Leadership

NCCJ 50th Anniversary Brotherhood/Sisterhood Citation Award Dinner Thursday, November 10, 2016 Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Rashanda Lowery, Renee Hicks, Courtney Dabney

Jim Slaughter, Linda Morrris, Tamara Slaughter, George Morris Zack Matheny, Jodee Ruppel, Julia Roach Valerie Spaulding Little & Ted Little

Jenny Caviness, David Fraccaro, Marikay Abuzuaiter, Jill Galdieux

Rashida Khalifa, Majid Hassan

Terry & Rita Fritz Donna Newton, Akir Khan

Rafael Pineda, Anne & Sriyesh Krishnan

106 O.Henry

January 2017

Olivia Smith, Charita Wall, Donna Brown, Macon Smith, Tamela Gainey

Stephen & Courtney Willis

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


Make it a “New” Year with a new home!

Chesnutt - Tisdale Team

6 Sommerton Court

WOW! Has been totally updated - painted inside and out! New Kitchen 2014 - cabinets, granite counter tops, tile back splash, new stainless steel appliances. Hardwoods throughout first floor. Master Bedroom on main level with garden tub & shower. Upstairs has 2 large Bedrooms & Bath. 2-car garage. Must see! $329,000 SOMM6

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Xan Tisdale 336-601-2337

Kay Chesnutt 336-202-9687

Xan.Tisdale@bhhsyostandlittle.com Kay.Chesnutt@bhhsyostandlittle.com ©2016 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC. Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.

January 2017

O.Henry 107


George & Fran Owen

GreenScene Greensboro Honors

A Veteran's PArade Saturday, November 12, 2016

Photographs by Lynn Donovan Pam Cooper, Lindsey Sprague, Kim Mahone, Brain Fitzgerald

Mary Throop, Lt Cl Reardon, Betty Morris Savannah & Robert Scott

April, Grayson & Chad Dishner

Anastasia, Megan, Curtis, & Austin Tarver

Wade, Stacy & Addison Burch JR Troutman, June Browne

Maudy Vidal, Porter & Jamie Faucette, Beverly Corbett, Kaley Andrews Rita Williams, Devon Sutton, Emerson & Christina Williams

108 O.Henry

January 2017

Angela Hardwick, Aliyah Vample, Iris Troxler, Norma Jones

Carol Eubanks, Paula Cox Fishman

The Art & Soul of Greensboro


GreenScene

Joye & Ken Brannon

Halloween at Well Spring Retirement Community Monday, October 31, 2016

Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Diane Joyne, Judi LaBath, Jerri Linn Phillips, George Galvin

Betty Brannon Lon & Buzz O'Brien

Goodie Braley, Jimmy Dunn, Joe & Natalie Freeman, Mary Kit Dunn

Tom & Nancy Beard Noel & Mary von Glahn

Dick & Elaine Weller

Cathy Ennis, Jo Safrit Marilyn Burris

Ches & Jeanne Singleton

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Dan & Bonnie McAlister, Jean & Ralph Davison

January 2017

O.Henry 109


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The Accidental Astrologer

Sweet Joy Ride

Champange wishes, cavier dreams and the chicken dance By Astrid Stellanova

Oh, what a good time to be a Capricorn! Money! Fun! Champagne on a

beer budget! You bask in the sunshine of a benevolent Universe. And . . . If you don’t go broke trolling the racks at Victoria’s Secret, you will have one fine time with all things sensual and pleasurable and dee-lightful. Actually, with the Sun in your money house, this is when you bank a lot of cash and good times keep rolling. For the rest of the sun signs, we just hope we are in the back seat for this oh-so-sweet joy ride. Ad Astra — Astrid

Capricorn (December 22–January 19) Now, Astrid is not always right about everything, but I’m going to mix my metaphors because I feel oh-so-very right on this star call: If you don’t make the best of this astrological joy ride then you sure have missed the bus. Given all the good fortune you enjoy in January, take some time for an attitude of gratitude and pay some of that forward, Birthday Child. Aquarius (January 20–February 18) Since the year’s end, you’ve been locked in a dilemma. And Honey, one is right and the other one is you. It won’t take you more than a hot minute to figure out for yourself exactly what ole Astrid means. The jury is still out on whether you will get away with something you know was dicey. Not too late to renege, sweet thing, and set it right. Pisces (February 19–March 20) When things get rough, some of us run and hide. Some, like you, know how to let loose and be hopeful even when they feel the bus tires are bearing down and about to roll over them. They don’t feel sorry for themselves — no, baby, they feel a chicken dance coming on. This is the beauty of your true self. Dance that chicken dance, Child. Aries (March 21–April 19) If you struck gold, why would you look for brass? Somebody you admire has put that question to you about a choice you made. That choice is going to be one of the most important ones you will make. If you feel you cannot choose, then don’t. Sit on your hands. Wait. If your first choice won’t fit, don’t force it. Taurus (April 20–May 20) You have the constitution of an ox, and when you get sick, you get mad. Consider your choices. Consider you haven’t necessarily done a healthy thing in too long to remember. And the health nuts don’t mean an apple a day will keep the doc away — but only if you aim it right. Gemini (May 21–June 20) Sugar, you’ve been through a lot of challenge. How much of that was your durn fault? Did you show your appreciation when somebody gave you a helping hand? Did you repay the favor? Try remembering to dance with the one who brought you to the dance and get back out there. Cancer (June 21–July 22) It is true you got some bad blowback. It may be because a confidant of yours uses a phone The Art & Soul of Greensboro

like a DustBuster, just to get the dirt. Take a good look at who you trust and be sure they are worth all the fuss. Then sweep up the mess and move on, Sugar. Leo (July 23–August 22) Recent events have left you upside down and bassackwards. You don’t know whether to scratch your watch or wind your backside. Will it help you if I tell you this is good training for you? Despite always giving the appearance you are the One in Charge, you have bluffed and someone called it. Fix it. Virgo (August 23–September 22) Ever notice that the people who ought to be running things are either driving for Uber or giving manicures? Wisdom is going to find you in the most unlikely places. If you are wiser, you are going to keep an ear cocked for insights from people you might oughta listen to before you make that big decision. Libra (September 23–October 22) Well, hello, Sassy Pants! You put some steel in your backbone and stood up to somebody who needed it. Pushing back may just become one of your favorite activities this year, after a long standoff. You are going to find it easier to be true to your own ideas, and don’t worry if it alienates your Mama. Scorpio (October 23–November 21) Big ole changes are in the chart for you, and despite all the secret nail biting you have done, it is going to be just fine, Sugar Pie. If you only knew how many helping hands are making good things possible, you would sleep better at night. You would also sleep better if you stopped sleeping with your cell phone. Sagittarius (November 22–December 21) The rumor is, you have finally broken off with the lunatic fringe and found yourself. Or was it that you found religion? Whatever you found, don’t forget where you put it. You have an easy transition into the New Year, and an easy opportunity to renew some old acquaintances. They didn’t forget you. OH

For years, Astrid Stellanova owned and operated Curl Up and Dye Beauty Salon in the boondocks of North Carolina until arthritic fingers and her popular astrological readings provoked a new career path. January 2017

O.Henry 111


Winter’s Gifts A Paean to the pleausure of January

By Terri Kirby Erickson “Winter, a lingering season, is a time to gather golden moments, embark upon a sentimental journey, and enjoy every idle hour.” — John Boswell

I’ve heard people say

that January is a dreary month. After all, Christmas has come and gone, and what few decorations remain in our yards and homes look a little tired and forlorn. The New Year’s Eve toasts have all been made, the midnight confetti swept away. And in cities and towns across the country, merchants are already stocking their shelves with heart-shaped boxes of candy in preparation for Valentine’s Day.

Of course, we do have New Year’s Day with its special “good luck” cuisine. Here in the South, we traditionally serve some kind of pork, collard greens, black-eyed peas and cornbread. Then comes several hours of lounging in front of our television screens, trying to digest it all and making New Year’s resolutions we’ll probably break on January 2, if not before. After that, however, the cold winter days stretch before us without much in the way of celebrations and traditions to warm them up, at least until the third Monday of the month when we honor the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. But the beauty of our natural world, available to us winter, spring, summer and fall, is something we can savor every day of the year. And it doesn’t require a national holiday or any focused celebration for us to enjoy it. In fact, even in the “dead” of winter, wonders await us at every turn, from frost that frills the hard ground like lace, to the ever-changing and seemingly endless sky, cloudy or clear. And although the emerald green of summer leaves, or trees painted fiery red and butterscotch yellow by autumn’s brush are magnificent to behold, bare branches offer us a much clearer view of the cardinals, mockingbirds, bluebirds, waxwings, woodpeckers and the occasional hermit thrush that briefly land upon them. Red-shouldered hawks often spend a few moments resting on the hightest limbs of our tallest backyard oaks. And when they lift their feathered bodies into the chill air, a ray of sunlight can turn their outstretched wings

112 O.Henry

January 2017

to glistening gold. Meanwhile, back on the ground, scattered herds of shy deer forage for food, groundhogs trundle from one end of our yard to the other and greedy squirrels scamper from feeder to feeder when they aren’t chasing each other around, flicking their furry tails and chattering like teenagers with their friends at the mall. As to “wintry” weather, a forecast of snow can be a great bother what with salting and perhaps plowing the roads, potential power outages and slippery sidewalks. But I have to admit, I love snow. When those fluffy flakes begin to fall from an ever-purpling sky, I feel exactly the way I felt when I was 5 years old. It seemed to me, then as now, that when it snows anywhere, the whole world grows hushed and silent as if we’re in the presence of something sacred. Perhaps what I love most about January and every winter month, is how the windows of houses in our neighborhood light up on late afternoons as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon, making way for the moon as well as billions of icy stars. I like to imagine the people inside, everyone safe and warm — how their faces glow as they switch on the lamps, one by one. I picture families talking and laughing throughout chilly winter evenings, our more solitary neighbors reading good books, listening to music or planning the next day’s outing with someone they love. At our house, my husband likes to “play” on his laptop while I read mysteries by favorite authors, such as Anne Perry and Elizabeth George. Call me an idealist, a romantic — but it hurts no one for me to go on believing that most people are caring and good, the world in which we live, a magical place. It’s all in how we look at things. What some would call “dreary,” I consider a backdrop against which, any minute, light will shine. I look at bare trees and refuse to lament the loss of their leaves, choosing instead to focus on birds more colorful and vibrant than the brightest foliage. I walk on frosted ground and relish the crunch of my heavy boots against the frozen grass. I watch snowflakes fall and think of how a fresh blanket of snow makes everything look new again. So, don’t wait for spring to be happy. Be happy now! Put on a coat, gloves and scarf. Take a walk. Visit a friend. Listen to the quiet of a cold winter’s day in the country, or in the hustle and bustle of a city, the sound of cars rushing by, high heeled shoes clicking along a crowded crosswalk. Live your life, whatever the season. Treasure “every idle hour,” each golden moment gathered. OH Terri Kirby Erickson is the award-winning author of five collections of poetry, including Becoming the Blue Heron (Press 53, March, 2017) The Art & Soul of Greensboro

ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR

O.Henry Ending



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