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FEATURES 49 Reclamation Project Poetry by Sarah Edwards 50 Seaworthy By Ross Howell Jr.

High Point’s Brad Flater grew up dreaming of designing boats

56 Boys to Men By David Claude Bailey Coming of age in Troop 48

58 A Beacon of Light By Grant Britt

Saint James Presbyterian Church has been serving God and the Gate City for 150 years

64 Outta Sight By Billy Ingram

An extraordinary architectural gem stands apart from others in Lake Daniel

75 Botanicus By Ross Howell Jr.

The timeless appeal of summer roses

77 June Almanac By Ash Alder

Midsummer magic, healing, okra and the color of romance

Cover Photograph by Sam Froelich Photograph this page

6 O.Henry

DEPARTMENTS 11 Simple Life By Jim Dodson 14 Short Stories 17 Doodad By Maria Johnson 19 Life’s Funny By Maria Johnson 23 Omnivorous Reader By D.G. Martin 27 Scuppernong Bookshelf 29 Papadaddy’s Mindfield By Clyde Edgerton 31 True South By Susan Kelly

33 In The Spirit By Tony Cross 37 A Writer’s Life By Wiley Cash 43 Birdwatch By Susan Campbell 45 Wandering Billy By Billy Eye 78 Arts Calendar 103 GreenScene 111 Accidental Astrologer By Astrid Stellanova 112 O.Henry Ending By Kathleen Causey

by Amy Freeman

June 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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M A G A Z I N E

Volume 7, No. 6 “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, David Claude Bailey, Harry Blair, Maria Johnson CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Sam Froelich, John Gessner, Bert VanderVeen CONTRIBUTORS

Ash Alder, Jane Borden, Grant Britt, Susan Campbell, Wiley Cash, Clyde Edgerton, Billy Eye, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Sara King, Susan Kelly, Brian Lampkin, D.G. Martin, Meridith Martens, Ogi Overman, Romey Petite, Stephen Smith, Astrid Stellanova

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Simple Life

What’s Enough? Timeless advice from a modern sage

By Jim Dodson

A few weeks ago I read in The New

Yorker about a group of Silicon Valley billionaires who’ve built luxury retreats in some of the remotest parts of the planet, safe houses designed to allow their owners to survive a global catastrophe — and stocked with enough good white wine and military hardware to hold out indefinitely.

A short time later, I read about a second group of young Silicon Valley billionaires funding a top-secret scheme to bioengineer a so-called “God Pill” that can cure everything from cancer to flat feet and make human mortality as obsolete as your trusty old Osborne computer. According to Newsweek magazine, this latter group of “visionaries” includes Peter Thiel, the billionaire co-founder of PayPal, who is making plans to live for at least 120 years. Dmitry Itskov, the “godfather” of the Russian Internet, says his goal is to live to 10,000 years of age, while Larry Ellison, co-founder of Oracle, finds the notion of accepting mortality “incomprehensible.” Sergey Brin, co-founder of Google, meantime, simply hopes to someday “cure death.” As Newsweek notes, “The human quest for immortality is both ancient and littered with catastrophic failures. Around 200 B.C., the first emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang, accidentally killed himself trying to live forever, poisoning himself by eating supposedly mortality-preventing mercury pills.” Centuries later, the answer to eternal life appears no closer at hand. “In 1492, Pope Innocent VIII died after blood transfusions from three healthy boys whose youth he believed he could absorb. A little closer to modern times, in 1868 America, Kentucky politician Leonard Jones ran for the U.S. presidency on the platform that he’d achieved immortality through prayer and fasting — and could give his secrets for cheating death to the public. Later that year, Jones died of pneumonia.” For better or worse, as the ancients of every spiritual tradition remind us, it is life’s bittersweet impermanence — and one’s perspective on the matter — that determines whether every day is regarded as a gift to be savored or a good reason to pack up and head for the hills. As I read about Silicon Valley’s lavish End Time retreats and quest to make human mortality irrelevant, in any case, I couldn’t help but think about the summer I realized I was mortal and probably wouldn’t be around forever. It was June of 1962 and school was just out. Third grade was in my rearview mirror and I had both a new neighborhood plus a shiny new Black Racer bike upon which to go adventuring. My new neighborhood gang was buzzing about the bomb shelter “creepy Mr. Freeman” had reportedly built beneath a shed in his backyard in the raw new subdivision south of the city. The Russians were coming, and bomb shelters were all the rage on TV and in magazines. About this same time I watched The Art & Soul of Greensboro

an episode of The Twilight Zone that tells the story of neighbors at a dinner party when word comes that a nuclear missile has been launched at America. The host and his family flee to their bomb shelter only to have their terrified neighbors batter down the door — just as the word comes that the report was a mistake. But panic has brought its own devastation to the neighborhood. I freely admit becoming obsessed with Mr. Freeman’s bomb shelter. My brother and I were sons of an itinerate newspaperman, after all, who’d witnessed Klan rallies and floods during our family odyssey through several newspapers across the deep South before coming home to Greensboro for good. There’d been stops in Wilmington and Florence, South Carolina, and our dad had even owned his own paper in Mississippi for a while. But the misfortunes and tragedies we’d witnessed or heard about in the context of newspaper reporting always belonged to someone else. To my over-stimulated 9-year-old brain, the prospect of a sneaky, thermonuclear attack by the Russians was in a class of disaster by itself. It made the rickety wooden desks we practiced huddling beneath during civil defense drills at school seem laughably insufficient compared to the allure of an Oreo-filled, TV-equipped bomb shelter in one’s own backyard. I even asked my dad if we could build one, helpfully providing a preliminary sketch of what ours might look like. My bomb shelter was one classy affair, resembling a cross between the Flintstones’ cave and a Jules Verne wondrous Nautilus submarine. My old man smiled when I showed him my bomb shelter design, which also depicted a wasteland where our new subdivision previously existed — a cindered moonscape inspired by photographs of Hiroshima I’d seen in an Associated Press photo book of the Second World War. “How many people can fit in your bomb shelter?” he casually wondered. “Just the four of us and Herky,” I said. Herky was my dog, short for “Hercules,” named for the mythological Greek strongman featured in cheesy Steve Reeves movies. “I see. Well, Sport, would you really want to live in a world like that? How are you going to feel knowing all your friends and schoolmates who didn’t have bomb shelters were left up top where everything is gone — all the birds and trees and animals you seem to love so much?” This was a point I’d not considered. “Do you think the world will end anytime soon?” I asked him. “In some fashion or another, the world is always ending for someone somewhere,” he calmly explained. He even had an answer to the nuclear appeal of creepy Mr. Freeman’s bomb shelter. “You can’t run away from the world,” he said. “You can only try to improve it. Rather than bury yourself in the backyard, I suggest you grow up and help create a better world. You have a brief time on this Earth. The trick is to use it wisely — and to learn what’s enough.” Decades later, when we talked about this funny moment, my philosopherfather remembered it almost exactly the way I did. June 2017

O.Henry 11

Simple Life

We happened to be sitting in a pub on the rainy Lancashire coast of England, sharing a pint following a rained-off round of golf. Though you wouldn’t have guessed it, my dad was dying of cancer, and this was our final golf trip together, a long-talked-about trip to see the places where he fell in love with golf as an Air Force sergeant just prior to D-Day. Among other things on this trip, I’d learned that my father had been through his own versions of an Apocalypse — first a tragic plane crash that killed dozens of people including children in the village where he was stationed; and a second time when his dream of owning his own newspaper in Mississippi went up in smoke after his silent partner cleaned out the company bank accounts and headed for parts unknown. That same week, unimaginably, my mother suffered a late-term miscarriage and my dad’s only sister died in a car wreck outside Washington, D.C. Talk about the End of the World. “How on Earth does one survive a week like that?” I asked him over my warm beer. I remember how he smiled. “Because I’ve learned that it’s not what you get from this life that really matters — but what you give and leave behind. Knowing what’s enough is the key to a meaningful life.” My dad was 79 years old that rainy afternoon in England. I could suddenly see why he was the perfect fellow to moderate the men’s Sunday morning discussion group at First Lutheran Church in Greensboro for more that two decades. I was 42 years old with two small children back home in Maine and already in grief over his approaching absence from my life. And I remember something else he said with a wry smile, draining his beer. “There are no endings, Sport, only beginnings. Make each day count.” Reading about the wealthy Silicon Valley billionaires who crave more time and seek to live forever simply reminded me of these lessons I learned very early in life, from that faraway bomb shelter summer and the mouth of a modern

sage. Later in life, I actually took to calling my wise old father, an adman with a poet’s heart, “Opti the Mystic.” All these years later, I think about how blessed I was to have such a funny, philosophical father and his essential message about knowing “What’s enough?” Mine really is a pretty simple life, it turns out. I even jotted down a few things that at the end of the day (or even the world) are more than enough for me. Enough for me is an old house I love where every creak or groan underfoot sounds like a sigh of contentment. Long walks around Paris — or just the neighborhood at dawn or evening — with my wife, Wendy, is the stuff of everyday magic. Ditto a Japanese garden that will probably take at least a decade more to complete, new friends who come to supper on weekends, old friends who get in touch, Sunday evening phone calls from our four grown children, good books, rainy Sundays, our screened porch, and the night skies over our terrace. For the record, I’d like to write five or six more books of my own and maybe hobble off someday to find the world’s most sacred places, purely for spiritual kicks. Also, like a worried 9-year-old boy I remember being, I wish my dog Mulligan could live forever — or at least until I’m ready to push on to God knows where. Point being, I guess I don’t fear the end of this world, a gift Opti the Mystic gave me long ago. “This is why we are in the world,” advised the Sufi mystic Bawa. “Within your heart is a space smaller even than an atom. There, dear ones, God has placed 18,000 universes.” A good reason to make every day count. OH Contact Editor Jim Dodson at jim@thepilot.com. Read more about Opti the Mystic and Mulligan in The Range Bucket List, Dodson’s new book, available everywhere.

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June 2017

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Short Stories Hoist ’em!

And no, we don’t mean pints of frosties (though the thought is tempting), but sails . . . and without having to venture far. Thanks to the Lake Townsend Yacht Club and Greensboro Parks and Recreation Department, you can release your inner mariner with sailing lessons. Held at Lake Townsend Marina (6332 Townsend Road, Browns Summit), you’ll learn knot tying, boat rigging, wind direction and more before you take to the waters. Weeklong sessions for adult beginners started in May, assuming the torrential spring rains didn’t wash aspiring sailors ashore. Another is scheduled this month from June 5–10, as are a couple of Junior Beginner classes (June 12–16; June 19–23). More are scheduled throughout July and August. Info: greensboro-nc.gov. To register: laketownsendyachtclub.com.

You Are What You Eat

And ya gotta eat your spinach, baby! Fortunately, the Guilford County Cooperative Extension is here to help. Last month it launched its series of free “shop and cook” classes at 9 a.m. at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market (501 Yanceyville Street), with a session on meal planning as an avenue to good health. Classes scheduled for June and July will cover low-sodium cooking options, canning and preserving. Look for more later in the fall. Info: (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.

14 O.Henry

June 2017

A Frond Farewell

It’s summer, aka porch season, and as every Southerner knows, you can’t enjoy your wraparound without some hanging baskets of ferns. And forget their momentary bad rap as accouterments of yuppie bars in the 1980s: The shadeloving monilophytes, as they’re sometimes called, go back millions of years and have anywhere from 9,000 to 15,000 different species. Learn more on June 8 at 6 p.m. at “The Fascinating World of Ferns,” a lecture by Lisa Lofland Gould at Paul J. Ciener Botanical Garden, (215 South Main Street, Kernersville). To reserve: (336) 996-7888 or cienerbotanicalgarden.org.

Fenn-ciful

How you see it is one thing, how you paint it is another. Much like the French Impressionists, N.C. artist Richard Fennell has, for 40 years, explored various ways to depict how we perceive things. Be among the first to see the scope of his work at The Edge of Perception: A Richard Fennell Retrospective, which includes early HOUSE AT DAMASCUS, 2000, OIL ON CANVAS, 40 X 48 INCHES sculptures, still lifes, interiors, landscapes and portraits, at an opening reception at 6 p.m. on June 16 at GreenHill (200 North Davie Street). The exhibition runs through August 20 and includes an artist’s talk and demonstration on August 16. Info: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org.

Tea’d Off

Steep yourself in history at “Tea Time,” an interactive event at the High Point Museum (1859 East Lexington Avenue) demonstrating the importance of tea in colonial culture. On June 17 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. and June 18 from 1 to 4 p.m., you can sample imported teas, including Chinese tea and infusions from herbs grown in most colonial gardens. While you’re deciding between one lump or two, learn the reasons why colonials valued tea and why they would ultimately boycott it. Maybe their opposition had something to do with Tea Act of 1733? The thinly disguised bailout of the British East India Company was a factor in the American Revolution . . . decidedly not a tempest in a teapot. Info: (336) 8851859 or highpointmuseum.org. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

A Place in the Sun

For its thirteenth annual celebration, the Greensboro Summer Solstice Festival is, according to founder and head faerie Susan Sassmann, “raising the bar of artistic expression.” And in order to do so, there will be a $5 admission fee this year (kids under 12 free, no dogs). The event is held at the Lindley Park Arboretum from 2–10 p.m. Saturday, June 17. Thirteen bands will be spread across three stages and run the gamut from blues, jazz and contemporary to Latin, reggae and gypsy. Twenty-five food trucks will be on hand, as well as 100 local vendors of all descriptions, and two Joymongers beer gardens. Highlights include the Parasol Parade, led by a Dixieland band and the Paperand Puppet Intervention, Pixie Glen kids area, a drum circle, face- and bodypainting, mermaids in the fountain, hoopers, and the grand finale firespinning show by the Imagine Circus. Costumes are encouraged. Fun is mandatory. Info: greensborosummersolstice.org

June-y Tunes

Call it nostalgia, call it a yearning for a simpler time — think: Mayberry feverishly trying to organize a Sunday evening band concert — or call it a slice of Americana, but there is something that touches our collective soul about an early evening, summertime musical event on the lawn. Thirty-eight years ago, Greensboro tapped into that sentiment by organizing a Music for a Sunday Evening in the Park (MUSEP) series. Likewise, the Eastern Music Festival has always held a portion of its events outdoors. And last year, the Levitt AMP Music Series carried that tradition a step further, with its 10-concert series at Barber Park. All three series get underway in June. MUSEP kicks off June 4 at Blandwood Mansion with the Wally West Little Big

Band at 6 p.m. For the full schedule go to musep.info. As if it were scripted, in its first event Saturday, June 3, the Levitt AMP series’ featured artist is none other than Vanessa Ferguson, Greensboro’s own finalist on The Voice. Also on the bill are Nishah DiMeo and R’Mone Entonio. All events are on Saturday this season, running through August 5. The full slate may be found at artsgreensboro.org. EMF launches its 56th season Wednesday, June 28, with a concert titled “The Glory of Brass — Baroque and Beyond.” While it is not outdoors, the First Presbyterian Church is so acoustically perfect, you’ll think you’re under the stars. Go to easternmusicfestival.org for details.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Ogi Sez Ogi Overman Now, I’m no Richard Rodgers, but I can tell you that June is, in fact, bustin’ out all over, especially on the musical carousel of Greensboro. So, let’s give it a whirl, shall we?

• June 1, Paul J. Ciener Botanical

Gardens: They were one of the smashes at last year’s National Folk Festival, and now IBMA Entertainer of the Year (the biggie) award-winners Balsam Range return to the Triad, this time to Kernersville. They’ve taken the bluegrass world by storm and you really need to find out why.

• June 6 & 8, Carolina Theatre: I’m breaking the rules here, or at least bending them, by double-dipping a venue. But, when I tell you why, I think you’ll forgive me. Two days apart, the Carolina is hosting two of my favorite performers in the whole wide world. Joe Jackson (6/6), in my book, launched the swing revival of the mid-90s, and Greensboro’s own mega-star, Rhiannon Giddens, launched the current rejuvenation of old time and string band music. • June 11, LISTEN Speakeasy at Hush: A self-described, “leftneck,” who once wrote a song titled “Liberal With a Gun,” Grant Peeples is why the terms “alt-country” and “East Nashville” were invented. One of the most clever and provocative lyricists around, he’ll have you laughing and crying — at the same time. • June 12, Greensboro Coliseum: If you watched Journey’s performance last month at their Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction concert, you surely realized that they haven’t lost a thing with Steve Perry’s departure because of vocal cord polyps. They were once the hottest act on the arena rock circuit, but this ain’t hair-band hooey. This is timeless. • June 25, The Crown: Mark this one down if you’re a Miles Davis freak. The cream-of-the-crop Piedmont Triad Jazz Orchestra is doing a whole show of Miles compositions. This will blow the doors off. June 2017

O.Henry 15

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Doodad

Furnishing Hope The Barnabas Network gets a new address and executive director

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or an agency that deals mostly in used items, there’s an awful lot of “new” going on at The Barnabas Network. The nonprofit furniture bank moved into a new location in December, transplanting from a leased location on 16th Street to a smaller donated building at 838 Winston Street, a block south of Bessemer Avenue in Greensboro. Then there’s the new executive director, 34-year-old Derrick Sides, formerly the chief administrator at the Randolph Arts Guild. At Barnabas, he replaces Erin Stratford Owens, who’s now at the helm of the Humane Society of the Piedmont. It’s a small, small, small nonprofit world. The double dose of new at Barnabas means the organization is poised to grow in different ways, says Sides, who would like to see more social media presence for the outfit that channels donated furniture, housewares and appliances to needy folks who’ve been referred by human services agencies. Clients shop for the basics, for free, in the Barnabas warehouse. Some of the donated furniture — which is given by individuals, plus furniture and consignment stores — goes to the Barnabas retail store, housed under the same roof. Board members hope a bigger social media profile will boost sales on the retail side, which brings in about 15 percent of the operating budget. They’d also like to raise awareness of the Barnabas mission. “It’s the simple premise of taking excess abundance from people who have enough and giving it to people who don’t,” says board member Ruth Edwards. Started in 2006 as an outreach of Greensboro’s Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, the local charity was named for St. Barnabas, an early Christian missionary who sold his possessions and gave the proceeds to the disciples, including his friend St. Paul. The organization’s goals line up with Sides’s personal values. He recalls a conversation with his 6-year-old daughter shortly after he left the arts guild to focus on organic farming for a while. “She was genuinely upset that not everybody had a house to live in or food to eat or basic amenities. I said, ‘The reason you feel that way is that something needs to be done about it. That’s why we’re here, is to take care of each other,’ ” he says. “It was within a day or two that this opportunity came across my radar.” OH Next on the Barnabas calendar: Chair Affair, a silent auction of one-of-akind chairs decorated by artists. A ticket to the event will get the holder free food, drink and live entertainment. The fundraiser is scheduled for 6-9 p.m. on June 1 at Tracks Bazaar, 302 Gate City Boulevard. For more info, go to thebarnabasnetwork.org. – Maria Johnson The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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June 2017

O.Henry 17

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Life’s Funny

Lost and Found Hanging up on Expectations Maria’s P

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By Maria Johnson

My cell phone must’ve fallen out of my bag between the tennis courts and the car.

I didn’t realize it until later that night when I wanted to take pictures at a family dinner, and I had to resort to a bulky black antique called a camera. After dinner, my husband called up the Find My iPhone app, and sure enough, there was a blinking blue dot near the public tennis courts. I grabbed a high-powered flashlight and dashed out the door with my 6-foot-3 son. We retraced my steps. Street to courts. Courts to bathroom. Bathroom to courts. Courts to street. No phone. Someone must have found it and locked it in the office. I’d come back in the morning. The next morning, as I reached for coffee, Jeff got a text from our cell phone carrier. “You need to stop using so much data,” he said. “We’re almost over the limit.” “Huh?” I croaked. “I never use data.” “Yes, you do,” he said, holding up a graph of my usage. “When?” He bored in on the graph. “Uh-oh,” he said. “What?” The Art & Soul of Greensboro

“Last night between nine and one-thirty.” “(Expletive),” I said. “(Expletive),” he said. “Let me see that map again,” I said. He called up the finder app from the night before. I zoomed in. The dot was actually down the road from the courts, near a creek. “Can you refresh it?” I said. No luck. My battery must have died. The morning was not going the way I’d expected. I called the cell phone carrier, suspended my number and paid a small upcharge for a temporary data plan. Then I thought about what was on my phone. Recorded interviews. Notes. Photos related to stories. Oodles of phone numbers. Were they backed up, resting on a storage cloud somewhere in the computing ether? Maybe. Maybe not. But what if? What if the person who’d picked up my phone had stayed in one place until the battery died then chucked the phone in the weeds near the creek? It was a long shot, but we would take it. Jeff and I jumped in the car. Of course we did. We’re a journalist and a Scotsman. If you cost us an interview or an upcharge for data, we will find you. “More that way. To your right. Closer to the creek,” Jeff said, using a map that showed the location of his phone against the last-known location of my phone. “I’m almost to the creek,” I said June 2017

O.Henry 19

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“Keep going,” he said. “Hmm,” I said. “What?” he said. “Look at this,” I said, pointing to a sandboxsize structure covered with a blue tarp. Stones had been laid carefully around the edge of the tarp to keep it pinned down. My mind wandered to everything that could be under that tarp. A person? A cache of stolen goods? A person with a cache of stolen goods? Jeff stepped closer. Cats sprang from the brush. He jumped. I jumped. “That’s it,” I said. “We’re calling the cops.” A few minutes later, a Greensboro officer was throwing off the blue tarps. Underneath were cat shelters, meticulously built wooden boxes with carefully sawn doors, and built-in storage bins. They were filled with wood shavings. Plastic containers of cat food were strewn around. Someone with real carpentry skill had gone to a lot of trouble to build and maintain homes for these animals. Not what I expected to find in the middle of the woods. Jeff checked his phone. “We’re still not on top of the blue dot,” he said. “It’s a few more yards in that direction.” We crept through the woods. “Aha,” I said. It was the backside of a small homeless camp, an amalgam of shack, tent, clothesline, buckets, old bicycles, suitcases and boxes. “You stay here,” the officer advised. “Let me see what’s happening.” He walked to the front of the camp, out of our view. We heard voices. Then raised voices. Then yelling. As things escalated, I feared the worst. Over a stupid cell phone. That’s not what happened. Thank God. It was a difficult situation. The police were professional, polite, restrained. An officer delivered my phone at the end of his shift. Later, after charging the phone and adding a security code, I looked at the Web history. Yes, the homeless guy who’d picked up my phone had looked at porn. And fast cars. And pranks on YouTube. And just before the battery died, movies. Up the hill from a colony of feral cats that’d gotten expert help in the art of survival, he’d been watching movies. Romance movies. Not what I expected. Not at all. OH Maria Johnson is a columnist for O.Henry. She can be reached at ohenrymaria@gmail.com.

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The Omnivorous Reader

Back to Bulgaria A compelling and mysterious journey

By D.G. Martin

Asheville author

Elizabeth Kostova will always be remembered for her 2005 novel, The Historian, that became the fastestselling hardback debut novel in U.S. history and the first ever to become No. 1 on The New York Times bestseller list in its first week on sale. Her achievement was especially noteworthy because her book was literary fiction, a genre that does not often produce massive sales results.

The plot of The Historian followed a search by scholars for the origins of Vlad the Impaler, better known as Count Dracula. After research in libraries and archives in Amsterdam and Istanbul, the book’s main characters travel throughout Eastern Europe in search of Dracula’s tomb. When they find it in a Bulgarian monastery, it’s empty. Is Dracula still alive? Will they find him? Are there other vampires? On these questions, Kostova built her compelling and successful mystery. Kostova’s second book, The Swan Thieves, was set in the world of art and made the Times bestseller list for 20 weeks in 2010. In her third and most-recent book, The Shadow Land, she takes her readers back to Bulgaria, but this time there are no vampires. The villains are modern and very realistic. Its main character is a young North Carolina mountain woman, Alexandra Boyd. On her first day in the country she meets a small Bulgarian family group — an older woman and two men, one in a wheelchair and the other a tall man of particular note. Showing off her lyrical prowess, Kostova writes, “She saw that the tall man was dressed in a black vest and an immaculate white shirt, too warm and formal for the day. His trousers were also too shiny, his black shoes too highly polished. His thick dark hair, with its sheen of silver, was brushed The Art & Soul of Greensboro

firmly back from his forehead. A strong profile. Up close he looked younger than she’d first thought him. He was frowning, his face flushed, glance sharp. It was hard for her to tell whether he was nearer to thirty-eight or fifty-five. She realized through her fatigue that he might be one of the handsomest men she’d ever observed, broad-shouldered and dignified under his somehow out-of-date clothes, his nose long and elegant, the cheekbones flowing up toward narrow bright eyes when he turned slightly in her direction. Fine grooves radiated from the edges of his mouth, as if he had a different face that he reserved for smiling. She saw that he was too old for her after all. His hand hung at his side, only a few feet from one of hers. She felt an actual twinge of desire, and took a step away.” He tells her his group is on its way to a beautiful monastery and suggests she consider visiting it, too. After they leave, notwithstanding Alexandra’s obvious fascination with him, it will be several hundred pages before she sees the man again, and we understand why he was described so completely. When his group departs in a taxi, Alexandra discovers she has a satchel that belongs to the Bulgarians. A young taxi driver called Bobby befriends her as she seeks to find the satchel’s owners. In it is a wooden urn, containing ashes and inscribed with the name Stoyan Lazarov. She and Bobby report the incident to the local police, who seem suspiciously interested, but who don’t take possession of the urn. Instead, they give Alexandra an address where Lazarov lived. Bobby suggests they rush to the monastery and return the urn to the Bulgarians, but when they get there the group is gone. Ready to continue their search, they find themselves locked in a room. Alexandra thinks, “nothing in her previous experience had prepared her for the feeling of being suddenly locked in a monastic room with a stranger five thousand miles from the Blue Ridge Mountains, holding an urn containing the ashes of another stranger. In addition to being tired and afraid, she was suddenly a thief, a vagrant and a prisoner.” Though Alexandra and Bobby escape from the monastery, they cannot escape a growing awareness that they are being followed and their possession of the urn has put them in danger. The next day they go to the address the police provided. The house is empty, but photos and papers inside June 2017

O.Henry 23

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confirm the owners of the urn had, indeed, lived there. A neighbor sends them to another address in a different part of Bulgaria but, before going, they adopt a stray dog that would come to play a major role in one of the concluding scenes. Kostova introduces other people, including an older, wealthy businessman-turned-politician named Kurilkov, known as “The Bear” who, running on a promise of “non-corruption,” is seeking to win the nation’s next election. There are growing and inexplicable dangers: vandalized cars, threats, murder and kidnapping. The urn’s secret and its dangerous value become the spine on which Kostova builds the book’s surprising and violent resolution. On that same spine she attaches another story, that of the man whose ashes are in the urn. Stoyan Lazarov, a talented violinist, lover of Vivaldi, devoted husband and father, ran afoul of Bulgaria’s brutal Communist dictatorship following World War II. He was confined for many years in a torturous labor camp where work conditions and weather almost killed him, destroying his health and his prospects for a fulfilling musical career. At the work camp, Lazarov met two men, one a friend and fellow inmate, and the other a guard who becomes a heated enemy. Both characters play a major part in the book’s dramatic conclusion. Kostova confesses that The Shadow Land is “very much a book about political repression — and suppression — and I’m glad to be bringing it out at this exact political moment.” Her unforgiving description of the oppression Lazarov suffered is based on factual events. It is a disturbing reminder of the horrors of the Soviet methods of dealing with any failure to toe the Communist line. Why has Kostova set another book in Bulgaria? Explaining her fascination, she writes about her first visit to “this mysterious country, hidden for so long behind the Iron Curtain,” and that she felt, “I had somehow come home.” Kostova’s poetic portrayal of Bulgaria’s cities and villages, landscapes and people will make readers want to see for themselves the place she loves and describes so well. Another beloved North Carolina mountain author, Ron Rash, affirms the book’s importance. “In this brilliant work, what appears at first a minor mystery quickly becomes emblematic of a whole country’s hidden history. Lyrical and compelling, The Shadow Land proves a profound meditation on how evil is inflicted, endured, and through courage and compassion, defeated. Elizabeth Kostova’s third novel clearly establishes her as one of America’s finest writers.” OH D.G. Martin hosts North Carolina Bookwatch, which airs Sundays at noon and Thursdays at 5 p.m. on UNC-TV. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Scuppernong Bookshelf

Jumpin’ June

Mystery, suspense and a generational saga are among this month’s offerings

By Brian L ampkin

June 6: The Last Kid Left, by Rosecrans Bald-

win (MCD, $27). The Last Kid Left is a bold, searching novel about how our relationships operate in a hyperconnected world, an expertly-portrayed account of tragedy turned mercilessly into entertainment. And it’s the suspenseful unwinding of a crime that’s more complex than it initially seems. But mostly it’s the story of two teenagers, dismantled by circumstances and rotten luck, who are desperate to believe that love is enough to save them. Baldwin lives in Chapel Hill and teaches at the Center for Documentary Studies at Duke.

June 6: Camino Island, by John Grisham (Doubleday Books, $28.95). A gang of thieves stages a daring heist from a secure vault deep below Princeton University’s Firestone Library. Their loot is priceless, but Princeton has insured it for $25 million dollars. Bruce Cable owns a popular bookstore in the sleepy resort town of Santa Rosa on Camino Island in Florida. He makes his real money, though, as a prominent dealer in rare books. Very few people know that he occasionally dabbles in the black market of stolen books and manuscripts. John Grisham The Art & Soul of Greensboro

will appear at Scuppernong Books on June 27 (ticket required!). June 13: You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me: A Memoir, by Sherman Alexie (Little Brown, $28). Winner of the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction, the PEN/Malamud Award for Short Fiction, a PEN/Hemingway Citation for Best First Fiction, and the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature, Sherman Alexie is a poet, short-story writer, novelist and performer. A Spokane/Couer d’Alene Indian, Alexie grew up in Wellpinit, Washington, on the Spokane Indian Reservation. June 13: Blind Spot, by Teju Cole (Random House, $40). In this innovative synthesis of words and images, the award-winning author of Open City and photography critic for The New York Times Magazine combines two of his great passions. The Los Angeles Times calls Cole “one of the most vibrant voices in contemporary writing.” June 27: Quiet Until the Thaw, by Alexandra Fuller (Penguin, $25). The debut novel from the bestselling author of Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight and Leaving Before the Rains Come. A complex tale that spans generations and geography, Quiet Until the Thaw conjures the implications of an oppressed history, how we are bound not just to immediate family but to all who have come before and will come after us, and, most of all, to the notion that everything was always, and is always, connected. June 27: Take Out, by Margaret Maron (Grand Central, $27). Following the heartwarming conclusion to her Deborah Knott series, New York Times bestselling author Margaret Maron returns with a thrilling new mystery featuring NYPD detective Sigrid Harald. Hopefully we’ll see Greensboro’s own Ms. Maron at bookstores around the state. OH Brian Lampkin is one of the proprietors of Scuppernong Books. June 2017

O.Henry 27

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Papadaddy’s Mindfield

Dog Days Ahead Ruff language from the monthly rescue dog meeting

By Clyde Edgerton

Following is a transcript

ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR

of a recent rescue dog monthly meeting at a local pound:

Dog 1, the Moderator: Good afternoon. My name is Dusty. I’m a Mix. As you have been informed, we are meeting to go over some of the characteristics of rescue families. As you know, if you are not rescued this month then — Dog 2: Please don’t go into that. OK. But please be aware that you may be rescued by a Conservative, a Liberal, a Mix, or a Hermit. You should be able to recognize either, so that you can pick the rescue family that will be a good fit for you. That’s the purpose of our meeting — recognition. Please interrupt at any time with questions, by the way. Dog 2: What’s a Mix? Someone who is both a Conservative and a Liberal. Dog 3: Impossible Dog 4: No, it’s not. Dog 2: What’s a Conservative? Someone who listens to Fox News on their SirrusXM Satellite car radio. Dog 2: What’s a Liberal? Someone who listens to CNN or MSNBC on their SirrusXM Satellite car radio. Dog 2: How are they different? I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but it may be easier to say how they are alike. Judging from the commercials on those stations, they all likely owe $10,000 in back taxes or they are over $10,000 in credit card debt or they snore a lot, or are dysfunctional in some other way. It’s like they are all criminals. And, as with all humans these days, they are owned by somebody — or something — they may not recognize. And neither group will feed you chicken bones. But, as to their differences, I can tell you that — Dog 2: What’s a Hermit? A loner. Dog 3: Why would a Hermit want a dog? Don’t know. They probably wouldn’t. Right. So scratch that category. Dog 4: Just wondering — can a woman be a Hermit? Of course. Why would you think otherwise? Dog 5: What’s a woman? The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Come on, y’all — you were supposed to do your homework. A woman is person who will most likely be feeding you once you rescue a family. Now, please hold off on the questions and let me just clarify a few things. Dog 4: But what’s a man, then? Dog 5: Do you mean a person who identifies as a man? Dog 4: You must be a Liberal. Nanny nanny boo boo. Dog 5: You must be a Conservative. Nanny nanny boo boo. Hold on, hold on. Please don’t jump to conclusions. You are dogs, remember. You serve Conservatives, Liberals and Mixes. We rescue so that we can provide entertainment and company to rescue families, regardless of their political outlook. We must all — Dog 6: I’ve been around the block a few times. Peed on a lot of fire hydrants. And I can tell you this: You want to rescue people who are kind to dogs. I rescued a Conservative family twice and a Liberal family twice. I learned that kindness is unpredictable. What you need is somebody who will squat down, look you in the eye, and talk to you. Gently. Who will give you food, shelter, and love. And if you are a Mix, like all of us here, then you — Dog 7: I’m a pure breed. Dalmatian, as a matter of fact. Dogs 2 – 23: Oh my goodness. What the hell are you doing here? My Lord. For Heaven’s sake! Overbred. Overbred. Overbred. Nanny nanny boo boo. Liar. Dummy. Softy. Calm down. Listen up. Let’s not jump to conclusions. I believe there may be more than one pure breed among us. Or that could be what we call a “social construct.” Please understand that we are all in this together. More than likely each of you will find a family match — even pure-breed-Dalmatian-Dog 7. I understand Dalmatians are high-strung and perhaps you, Dog 7, will find a comfortable match . . . say, a vegetarian family. And listen, everybody, if a family doesn’t work out, simply bring them back and we will send them over for feline therapy. Believe me, they will come crawling back. 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. June 2017

O.Henry 29

True South

Hi, Ho Silver A tarnished history

By Susan K elly

It’s June, the traditional month for wed-

dings, though there are no “traditions,” much less rules anymore when it comes to weddings. To all my cousins, and the parents of all those bridesmaids and groomsmen, I’m sorry, but there just wasn’t room. And while wedding stories abound, my eternal favorite will be the hungover groomsman who projectile vomited at the altar of First Presbyterian. Mainly because it overshadows the groomsman who began a toast at my wedding with the alphabet, and by the letter F, it was clearly a disaster — and there were still 20 letters to go. Thirty-nine years later, my mother has yet to forgive him.

Used to be that sterling silver was The Gift To Get. The Hunt brothers in Texas were buying up all the silver when I got married, so even a humble teaspoon deserved a two-sided thank you note. My grandmother had earlier “started” my silver pattern with a silver-backed hand mirror, which The Art & Soul of Greensboro

I found particularly useless except to practice smiling without showing my gums, a flaw I was then obsessing over. (She’d also given me a circle pin. Seriously: I’d rather have had Love’s Baby Soft perfume, Jean Naté bath splash, anything.) There used to be rules for silver, too. About putting it in the dishwasher; about not using it with eggs or mayonnaise. You won’t find silver at Pottery Barn, or Lowe’s, which is where couples register these days. You also won’t find it on my sideboard, because, having grown up racing through my grandmother’s dining room and hearing the rattle of the silver service on her sideboard, I vowed that old-person tinkle would never happen to me. So, I ditched my mother-in-law’s silver tea service this year. My mother-inlaw taught me the best way to polish silver. You line the sink with tinfoil, dump in generous amounts of Spic and Span and ammonia, and throw in the silver. Then stand back, because the fumes are completely lethal. Take that, tarnish! The only piece of silver I’d truly like to own is the one I don’t: a wee watering can no bigger than a thimble, and meant to dispense a drop or two of vermouth in a martini. At my house, we just whisper “vermooooth” over the gin, and that’s sufficient. Still, if I ever find the watering can, I’m buying it. If nothing else, I can put it on a charm bracelet. Because, you know, everyone wears charm bracelets so much nowadays. OH Susan Kelly is a blithe spirit, author of several novels, and proud new grandmother. June 2017

O.Henry 31

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Spirits

The Daiquiri And the way to perfect it with myriad rums

By Tony Cross

PHOTOGRAPH BY TONY CROSS

The next time

you’re in an establishment and you’re uncertain if the drinks on their cocktail list are any good or not, order a daiquiri. If you’re envisioning a syrupy, strawberry-colored frozen drink that comes in a 16-ounce piña colada glass, keep reading. To make a classic daiquiri, all you need is rum, lime juice and sugar. But like many other pre-Prohibition cocktails, the daiquiri was ruined in the ’70s with artificial everything. When made correctly, this cocktail is the epitome of balance: not too boozy, not too tart, and not too sweet. Chances are, if the bartender can make a good daiquiri, the other cocktails on the list will also be balanced. I’ve had guests request a daiquiri for this very reason, and it resulted in their group ordering a few other cocktails throughout the evening.

I tried this gambit out a few years back on a hot summer afternoon. The bartender took my order, only to return a few minutes later to ask if I “wanted that blended.” I opted for the sauvignon blanc instead. Here are a few of my favorite rums that I’ll be making daiquiris with and kicking back during the first month of summer.

Flor de Caña Extra Seco 4 Years

Cocktail historian David Wondrich calls the daiquiri “the first true

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

classic cocktail to be invented outside the United States.” He’s right, and like so many classic cocktails that I’ve researched, many bartenders from the past have taken credit for their creation. Wondrich found the daiquiri referred to as the “Cuban Cocktail” in a cocktail book from Hugo Ensslin called Recipes For Mixed Drinks published in 1916. However, in a later edition of the book, Ensslin corrects himself, giving credit to Jacques Straub for publishing the cocktail in 1914. What we do know is that the original was made with Bacardi rum. Bacardi in the early 1900s was different from the Bacardi we know today. Back then it was rich and “exceptionally smooth.” Today, it’s very light, with not much flavor. Instead, grab a bottle of Flor de Caña Extra Seco 4 Years. Based in Nicaragua, this distillery — meaning “Flower of the Cane” — has been around since 1890. The sugar cane was planted at the foot of a volcano in hopes that the soil would enrich the flavors of the rum, and the humidity would naturally age it once it was in oak barrels. Flor de Caña makes a lot of different aged rums: four year, five year, seven year, 12 year, 18 year, and a 25 year. This is the best go-to rum for making a classic daiquiri without hurting your pocket: less than $20 a bottle.

Classic Daiquiri

2 ounces Flor de Caña Extra Seco 4 Years 3/4 ounce fresh lime juice 1/2 ounce simple syrup (2:1) Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice, and shake vigorously until the shaker is very cold. Strain into a chilled cocktail coupe glass. No garnish.

Fair Game Beverage Company’s Amber Rum

A few years back, Fair Game distiller Chris Jude released a sorghum rum titled “No’Lasses.” It was delicious and different: great rum characteristics, but with a whiskey backbone. Last year, he released his Amber Rum. He sources his panela sugar from Colombia. Panela sugar is made from evapoJune 2017

O.Henry 33

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June 2017

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Spirits

rated cane juice; it’s a raw sugar with rich flavors. This sugar gives the rum a sweet, floral and grassy profile. Like the No’Lasses, it’s also aged in bourbon barrels after distillation in Jude’s alembic pot still. The sugar ferments very slowly with Caribbean rum yeast before being added to the still. If you’re looking for a daiquiri with more body and flavor, use this rum. You can use it with the same specs from the daiquiri recipe above or when making a Hemmingway, named for the author, of course. Legend has it, at the El Floridita bar in Havana, Hemmingway set a house record for drinking 16 doubles (sans the sugar — that alone would’ve probably killed him).

Hemmingway Daiquiri

2 ounces Fair Game Amber Rum 3/4 ounce fresh lime juice 1/2 ounce fresh grapefruit juice Bar spoon maraschino liqueur Bar spoon simple syrup (2:1) Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice, and shake vigorously until the shaker is very cold. Strain into a chilled cocktail coupe glass. No garnish.

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Smith & Cross Traditional Jamaican Rum

My favorite rum. Ever. There are so many great things to say about this funky rum. Funky as in all kinds of flavor — on the nose it smells like a Werther’s caramel drop and on the palate there are ripe bananas, nuttiness and spice, undertones of grass, oak and honey. Coming in at a whopping 57 percent ABV, this is my definition of pirate rum. Titled “Navy Strength,” it must be at least 100 proof, which was the traditional strength requirement of the British Navy. Smith & Cross is one of the oldest producers of spirits and sugar in England. Dating back to 1788, the sugar refinery was located on the London docks. As time passed, the refineries turned into rum cellars. Haus Alpenz, the distributor of Smith & Cross, says, “At this proof a spill of the spirits would not prevent gunpowder from igniting. As important, this degree of concentration provided an efficiency in conveyance on board and onward to trading partners far away.” This rum is bottled in London, and made with a combo of the Wedderburn and Plummer styles of rum producing. The Wedderburn style is aged for less than a year, and the Plummer is aged one to three years in white oak. Molasses, skimmings (the debris that collects of the top of the boiling fluids, skimmed off during molasses and sugar production), cane juice, the syrup bottoms from sugar production, and the dunder (the liquid left in the boiler after distilling rum) make this rum my favorite; it’s not just because we share the same name. Here’s my recipe for a daiquri. This has got to be one of my favorite cocktails to drink. The half ounce of Smith & Cross does wonders for this quick sipper.

Cross Daiquiri

1 1/2 ounces Flor de Caña Extra Seco 1/2 ounce Smith & Cross Jamaican Rum 3/4 ounce fresh lime juice 1/2 ounce simple syrup (2:1) Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice from distilled water, and shake vigorously until the shaker is very cold. Strain into a chilled cocktail coupe glass. No garnish. OH Tony Cross is a bartender who runs cocktail catering company Reverie Cocktails in Southern Pines.

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Photography Courtesy of Joshua McClure

June 2017

O.Henry 35

Lunch is served.

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36 O.Henry

June 2017

5/11/17 9:20 AM

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

A Writer’s Life

Trespassing on Fertile Ground

Writing a book requires a curious spirit, a rental car and potential bail money

By Wiley Cash

On two separate occasions, my career as a

ILLUSTRATION BY ROMEY PETITE

novelist has nearly resulted in my being charged with breaking and entering. The first instance occurred at my elementary school. When I was 35 years old.

In June 2013, I was invited back to my high school in Gastonia, North Carolina, to receive an alumni award that was to be given during the school’s graduation ceremony. After flying down on Friday and settling in at the hotel, I woke up early on Saturday morning with a little time to kill, and I thought I’d drive my rental car over to Robinson Elementary, where I had gone to school as a child. The baseball field behind the school serves as the model for the ball field in the opening scene of This Dark Road to Mercy, a novel whose final edits I was then in the middle of completing. I wanted to see the ball field again and make certain that I had gotten it “right” on the page. I wanted to know that my memory had done it justice. I followed the sidewalk to the back of the building, where a playground sat, the old baseball field resting at the bottom of the hill. I stood there, picturing my characters, two young sisters, playing on the ball field. Once I was certain that I had imprinted the scene upon my mind, I made my way back to the front of the school. That is when I passed the gymnasium. At that moment, the exact smell of the gymnasium came back to me, a scent I had not smelled in almost 25 years: fresh carpet, new paint, well-used basketballs, and something else that I wasn’t able to place. I couldn’t resist my curiosity in wondering whether or not the gym still smelled the same. I checked the door. It was unlocked. I opened it and stepped inside. I have two bits of news to report: First, the gymnasium at Robinson Elementary has smelled the exact same for almost 25 years. Second, Robinson Elementary’s security alarm is really loud.

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I slammed the door and stood there for a moment, and I’m not going to lie: I considered fleeing. Before I continue, let me tell you a little about my rental car. It was a souped-up, turquoise Camaro. The guy at the rental place had been excited when he told me about the car, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t quite my style. Now, I pictured myself in my suit and tie, burning rubber in a turquoise Camaro as I peeled out of my old elementary school’s parking lot. I did the only thing I could think to do: I pulled out my cellphone and called 911 on myself. The conversation went something like this: No, I don’t work for Robinson Elementary. No, I don’t have a child who goes here. No, I’m from out of town. But I’m a writer, and I wrote about Robinson in a novel that will be out next year. I have to let you go. The police are here. A similar line of questioning occurred during my parking lot police interrogation. As soon as I was released my wife called. “Is that a siren?” she asked. I gave the only answer I could give. “I set off the alarm at my elementary school.” Apparently, my wife is used to this type of behavior because all she said was, “I’ll talk to you later.” The second time my career as a novelist nearly resulted in a rap sheet for breaking and entering occurred last spring, just west of Gastonia in the small town of Bessemer City, where much of my forthcoming novel The Last Ballad is set. The novel, which is based on true events, tells the story of a young woman who is swept up in a violent mill strike during the summer of 1929. Her name was Ella May Wiggins, and she worked at a mill in Bessemer City called American Mill No. 2. After a little research, I was able to locate the crumbling mill: It had been sold several times over the intervening decades, and, from where I sat parked along the road in front of the old mill, it appeared abandoned. I got out of the car, a Subaru Forester — more inconspicuous and better suited for exploration than the Camaro — and approached the gate, assuming it would be locked, but there was no lock, and when I tried to open the gate it opened easily. I climbed back into my car, drove through the open gate, and parked in front of the mill. June 2017

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A Writer’s Life

For the next half hour I took pictures outside the mill, wondering where Ella had entered it, wondering how I would capture it on the page. It was painted a fading white, but I knew from old photographs that the red brick beneath had once been exposed. I also knew that Ella had worked as a spinner, but from outside the mill, I couldn’t imagine where the spinning room would have been located. I considered trying the doors to see if any of them were unlocked. I even considered climbing up the ramp and trying to gain entry to the doors in the loading area. But the place was so quiet and felt so undisturbed that something gave me pause. The mill felt haunted, whether by Ella’s presence or my own imagining, I could not tell. I decided to snap one more photo of the mill before getting back into my car and heading for Asheville, where I was scheduled to give a reading that evening. And that’s when I saw him: a scarecrow of a man standing on the loading dock about 100 yards from me. I lowered my camera, feeling as if I’d just been caught stealing secrets. The man wore blue jeans and a button-down shirt, a baseball hat pulled low over his eyes. His face was obscured by shadow, but he appeared to have a mustache and to be wearing thick glasses. I lowered my camera, and I stared at him. He stared back at me. My car was parked between us, and I considered sprinting to it and getting behind the wheel and stepping on the gas for Asheville. But instead I approached the man where he stood. I didn’t say a word until I was within 10 feet or so of where he loomed above me from his perch on the loading dock. “Hello,” I said. “My name’s Wiley Cash, and I’m a writer, and I’m writing about a woman who worked at this mill in 1929. I was just taking a few pictures for research.” Silence. “Her name was Ella May Wiggins,” I said. “She was shot and killed during the Loray Mill strike.” More silence. “Have you ever heard of her?” He raised his eyes, looked out toward the road where the gate remained open from my illegal entry. He stared at my Subaru, and I suddenly wished I’d been driving the Camaro. Finally, he looked at me. I wondered if he would go inside and call the police, or if he’d disappear and return with some kind of weapon and take the law into his own hands. “Well,” he said, “I reckon you’d better come inside and have a look around.” His name was Walter, and he was 67 years old. He’d grown up in Gastonia not too far from the place where I’d grown up, and he’d been working at the mill — under one owner or another — since the late 1970s. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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O.Henry 39

A Writer’s Life

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40 O.Henry

June 2017

“There were almost 200 employees back then,” he said. “Today, we’ve got two on the floor.” Inside, two middle-aged women were busy packaging cloth rope and preparing it to be shipped. Neither of them looked up when Walter and I passed. The mill appeared even older once I was inside it. It was dark and musty, the hardwood floor worn smooth from decades of foot traffic and pocked from years of heavy machinery being moved across it, the ceiling low and riddled with what appeared to be hand-hewn beams and crossbeams where single bulbs cast soft yellow light defined by deep shadows. “This is probably exactly what this place looked like when she worked here back in ’29,” Walter said. He stopped, looked at me. “What did she do?” “She was a spinner,” I said. “Come on,” he said. I followed him up a rickety staircase to the second story. It ran almost the length of the mill, but it was virtually empty. The roof pitched above us at a sharp angle. Sunlight streamed through dirty glass windows and chinks in the walls. Gaps in the flooring made it so I could see through to the story below. “This is where the spinners would’ve worked,” he said. “The machines would’ve been up here.” “Would it have been loud?” I asked. “Deafening.” “And hot?” “You can’t imagine,” he said. “She worked 70 hours a week for $9,” I said. “And she had five children. Four had already passed away. She joined the strike because she thought the rest of them might die if something didn’t change.” He drew his lips into a straight line, shook his head in what seemed like either disbelief or disappointment. I thought of the two silent women at work downstairs, and I wondered if Walter saw anything of Ella’s story in theirs. When I left, I told Walter that I’d make sure he got a copy of my novel when it came out. I told him I’d drop by the mill and see him. He smiled. “If we’re still here,” he said. “If so, I hope you’ll stop by.” I’ve learned that sometimes, as a writer, you have to get out of the (rental) car and open doors. Other times, it’s best to wait for doors to be opened to you. OH Wiley Cash lives in Wilmington, North Carolina, with his wife and their two daughters. His forthcoming novel The Last Ballad is available for pre-order wherever books are sold.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Birdwatch

Calls of the Wild The season of the full-throated eastern phoebe is here

By Susan Campbell

Eastern phoebes are small black-

and-white birds that can be easily overlooked — if it weren’t for their loud voices. Repeated “feee-bee, fee-bee” can be heard around wet areas all over our state during the warmer months. The farther west one travels through the Piedmont and into the Foothills, calling males become more and more common. From March through June, they loudly and incessantly declare their territory from elevated perches adjacent to ponds and streams. Phoebes have an extensive range in the Eastern United States: from the coast to the Rockies and up and across central Canada. In the winter they can be found in southern states from the Carolinas over to Texas down into Mexico and even in northern Central America. They are exclusively insectivorous, feeding on beetles, dragonflies, moths — any bugs that will fit down the hatch. Although they don’t typically take advantage of feeders, I have seen one that did manage to negotiate a suet cage one winter. The birds’ feet are weak, and they are not capable of clinging. So this bird actually had perfected a hovering technique as it fed in spurts. Originally, Eastern phoebes would use ledges on cliff faces for nesting. We do not know much about their habits in such locations since few are

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

found breeding in such places now. Things have changed a lot for these birds as humans have altered their landscape and offered them an abundance of urban locales in which to nest. In our area, phoebes can be easy to spot as a result of their loud calls, but their nests may not be. Good-sized open cup structures, the habitats will be tucked in out-of-the-way locations. Typically they will be on a ledge high up on a girder under a bridge or associated with a large culvert. The corner of a porch or another protected flat spot often suits them. Grasses and thin branches are woven and glued together with mud, so the nests are necessarily located near wet areas. The affinity eastern phoebes have for nesting on man-made structures in our area may indicate that these are safer than more traditional locations. Climbing snakes are not uncommon in the Piedmont and Sandhills. Black rat snakes and corn snakes are not as active in buildings as they are on bridges and other water-control structures. It might be that the birds are adapting their behavior in response to these predators and others that are less likely to dwell so close to human activity. In recent years it has been fascinating to discover the variety of locations that these little birds choose as support structure for nesting. Light fixtures and light boxes (such as the one on our hay barn that is this year’s choice for the local pair), gazebos, porch support posts and other domestic structures suit their needs as long as they are covered by at least a slight overhang. Water, of course, is a necessity for phoebes in summer, and they require mature trees for perching and foraging, as well. So keep an ear out and perhaps you will find one of these adaptable birds nearby — ’tis the season!! Susan would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photos at susan@ncaves.com. June 2017

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June 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Wandering Billy

McIver Street Makeover A happy alternative to the wrecking ball

By Billy Eye “The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty: not knowing what comes next.” Ursula K. Le Guin

The 100-200 block of McIver Street is

a charming avenue with a difficult history as it extends from busy West Market smack into the belly of UNCBORG. A new parking structure and the School of Music take up the entire western side now but, across the street, there remains a pleasant mix of private homes, largely from the 1920s, that the university has repurposed for a history lab, day care and the like. But four of the most impressive dwellings on this block have been condemned and left to fallow.

On the corner, facing West Market, is one of those large homes from the turn of the 20th century that the street is famous for, until recently enjoying life as Tuba House, the city’s underground (musical) railroad. For years, Cheston Harris has been hosting ragtag bands with minuscule followings needing a place to gig and crash to help spirit them from one city to the next. Seems some new neighbors believed that living on the edge of a campus teeming with tens of thousands of methamphetamine-laced teenagers would result in the peace and tranquility they’ve longed for. So they had this beloved institution shut down.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

The first McIver facing property is a late-model apartment complex followed by three boarded-up houses. The first two were built in the 1940s, one, a simple but charming brick Tudor-inspired cottage that sits next to an enormous two-story white clapboard bungalow with a stone chimney fronted by a bold gambrel roofline accented with both flared and gabled dormers. Next door is a spectacular four-bedroom New Orlean–flavored weatherboarded home with a brick base that will celebrate its centennial next year. In the 1960s, after enrollment to UNCG was extended to male students, the upstairs was converted into two rental units with exterior staircases bolted on front and back. So many hippies crashed here, if the place caught fire half the city would have gotten stoned. Reflecting the prevailing Colonial-Revival architectural style on McIver, the other condemned property is at the far end of the thoroughfare, a sturdy brick two-story, five-bedroom home from 1927 with vintage metal awnings, apparently shuttered not long after it was purchased in 2008 for a whopping $3 million — if you believe what’s listed on the internet. (I don’t.) Finishing off the block, facing the Sullivan Science Building on Carr Street, are the venerable Lee Barber Apartments, a sleek duo of matching five-plex apartments from 1958. My worst fears were realized when I discovered UNCG’s master plan for expansion, published in 2014, calling for the removal of every home on McIver, including the two Barbara Lees, to be replaced with a sprawling Visual and Performing Arts District. Still smarting over the lost standalone residences in the heart of campus demolished for parking lots two decades ago, I was ready to fire off my indignant narrative: Am I seriously going to have to chain myself to some houses?!? Let’s keep these antiquities, and build upward not outward, UNCG. These kids need some exercise anyway! Fortunately, before this boot heel became permanently lodged in my oral cavity, I had a chance meeting with one of the university’s architect/planners. June 2017

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Wandering Billy treating every patient

LIKE FAMILY You should be treated with respect and care when you visit your Greensboro dentist… as if you were a member of the family. Trust Dr. Farless to meet your family and cosmetic dentistry needs and provide the comfort and peace of mind you deserve!

Call today to schedule an appointment (336) 282-2868

Turns out that 2014 blueprint is no longer in play. UNCG now recognizes how important a neighborhood feel is to the campus. So much so, they plan to rehabilitate these homes by next summer. Around that same time the former Victory Theater (so named because it opened at the height of WWII) on Tate Street and a pool hall next door will have been converted into rehearsal and studio space for the Theatre Department [or School of Theatre]. Extending the university’s footprint further down Tate is expected to be a boon to businesses along the strip. Bravo! That reminds me of another road thankfully not taken. Fifty years ago our city leaders drafted a plan to make downtown as attractive to shoppers as Friendly Shopping Center or the brand new Four Seasons Mall that was under construction. The blueprint called for the demolition of all those old-fashioned buildings from the turn of the century on South Elm, to be replaced with ultramodern glass and concrete storefronts with offices above. The first phase was implemented, and it involved widening the sidewalks downtown, then planting trees every few feet, augmented with more greenery growing out of large pebble-encrusted shrubbery planters. To balance out the massive number of parking spaces this displaced, the city built a multilevel parking deck behind Ellis-Stone department store (now Elm Street Center) that quickly became a magnet for crime, hastening downtown’s demise. The city center was surrendered to die-harders and derelicts in the 1970s, resulting in South Elm’s architectural treasures being preserved by default. Wider sidewalks, the parking garage, trees, some of which are nearly half a century old now, greatly enhance our present day downtown. Can you imagine the cultural hangover we’d be experiencing now if South Elm resembled the Governmental Center or any of the other ugly structures erected in the 1970s? Here’s what could have been . . . OH

Meet Michelle

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2511 Oakcrest Ave, Greensboro, NC 27408 www.gsodentist.com

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June 2017

Every Thursday afternoon this month from 3 p.m. until 6, Billy Eye will be at Parts Unknown: the Comic Book Store at 906 Spring Garden, near the corner of Mendenhall, to talk with you about Old Greensboro, classic comics, TV history, my books, or whatever else you can think of. Stop by and say hello! The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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June 2017

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Just Imagine or even better

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Bed and Breakfast rates from $159.00 Get out of the house, without having to get out of town. Spend a weekend getaway at the beautiful Grandover Resort and enjoy golf, spa and excellent dining – all within minutes of downtown Greensboro and High Point. Spring and Summer Specials for North Carolina residents, learn more at grandover.com/backyard grandover.com | 336.294.1800 | 1000 Club Road • Greensboro, NC 27407 | Just off I-85 & I-73 Get comfortable, you’ll be seeing a lot more of us in the future.

June 2017 Reclamation Project Sunken shapes of claw, paw, toe betray those who trespass on the beach when tide is out. Shells, their chambered lives destroyed by roiling waves, spread detritus like chad. Stones that shine with wet color, bronze, gold, orange, onyx, dull to grey as sea breezes dry them out. Evening tide awakens, reaches, erases evidence of interlopers, leaves the shore like a bedsheet, taut, smooth, tucked in. â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Sarah Edwards

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Seaworthy High Point’s Brad Flater grew up dreaming of designing boats. With a pedigree that includes Hatteras Yachts, his OBX Boatworks has set its own brilliant course By Ross Howell Jr. • Photographs by Sam Froelich

ince I’m a relative newcomer to Greensboro, the location for this story didn’t make sense to me. Wouldn’t a custom builder of sea-going yachts be situated near the ocean, on an estuary, or at least a river? Yet here I am in High Point, turning off East Martin Luther King Jr. Drive onto Pendleton Street. I see clean white letters against the black background of a sign, “OBX Boatworks.” I pull into a parking space by the entrance. Before me rises a massive, metal-sided manufacturing structure. I walk through glass doors into a warmly lit office with a big wooden table, modern chairs and attractive wall hangings. As the door closes behind me, a trim, youthful, bespectacled man stands up from a desk in the corner and approaches. “Brad?” I ask. “Yes,” Brad Flater — founder and owner of OBX Boatworks — says, smiling and shaking my hand. He has dark hair and a beard. He’s wearing a long-sleeve T-shirt and black denims. His eyes are bright and alert. His voice and manner are confident, genial, and immediately I feel at ease. We sit at the table. I ask him about his business’s unlikely location. “Yep,” he says. “High Point’s about as high and dry as it gets. But the facility we’re in, the whole structure, was built years ago by Hatteras Yachts to manufacture boats.” And the location was by no means accidental. “If you think about it, it makes a lot of sense,” he says. “The hulls were fiberglass, but the The Art & Soul of Greensboro

cabin and deck finishes are wood. With all the furniture makers nearby, with highly skilled cabinet makers and carpenters, Hatteras Yachts could sell boats finished with woodwork by some of the best craftsmen in the world.” High Point native Willis Slane Jr. founded Hatteras Yachts in 1959, and his company remains a leader in the boat-building industry today. Slane had grown up in his family’s textile business, Slane Hosiery Mills, but became fascinated with the idea of developing a fiberglass boat that could cut through the prodigious winter waves off the coast of Hatteras when other boats had to stay in port. In 1960 Hatteras Yachts introduced a 41-foot fiberglass boat, at the time, the largest ever manufactured. The company’s successful product launch was followed a year later by a legendary photograph taken of the devastation left in hurricane Carla’s wake in Corpus Christi, Texas. In the photo a lone boat floated at moor in port, while all the wooden boats tied alongside had been smashed to kindling. That boat had a fiberglass hull, and a manufacturing revolution was born. “When I joined Hatteras in 1988, there were two manufacturing locations — one in this building, and one at the company’s current location, New Bern,” Flater says. “In High Point there were six production lines. My business now takes up just one of them. I’d say there were 600 to 800 employees in this building when I started working here. It was quite an operation.” For Flater, building boats has been a lifelong dream. “When I was a kid I was always drawing. My mom still claims the first thing June 2017

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she can remember me drawing is a boat,” he says. “I grew up in Redlands, California, but I had family in the Midwest. My relatives ran a boat business in the Quad Cities on the Mississippi River, in Moline, Illinois. Just about every summer I’d be there, learning to rebuild an engine, or just tinkering around with boats.” It was in high school that he decided he definitely wanted to become a boat builder: “My school guidance counselor couldn’t offer much advice on that subject. So I wrote letters to naval architects, asking how I might get started in the business.” To his surprise, many of them wrote back. “They were candid. They told me it was a very tough business to get into. So I decided to do something more traditional. I enrolled to study architecture at Santa Monica College. It’s a good program, and it really improved my drafting skills.” After two years, he decided to change his tack: “I just couldn’t give up my passion for boats. I transferred to the Maine Maritime Academy. It’s a small school in the town of Castine on the coast of Maine. Geographically, that’s about as far from Santa Monica as you can go.” With about 950 students, Maine Maritime Academy is renowned for its hands-on learning programs and a remarkable employment rate for graduates. “Members of my family had their doubts about such a radical change,” Flater says, “but I hopped in my Volkswagen — my family’s always had Volkswagens — and drove across country. In Castine I was able to concentrate on naval architecture, which is really interesting to me, because you’re building something that moves. So the discipline combines architecture with engineering.” Flater muses for a moment. “I guess you could say I was still a dreamer when I finished school,” he says. “I saw myself working in some fancy town like Annapolis, Maryland, on the water with boats everywhere. Instead I did an internship with Hatteras Yachts, and when the company offered me a job, honestly, for someone interested in boat-building in that time, it was like being offered a job by IBM.” The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Alton Herndon, who served as president of Hatteras Yachts from 1985 to 1996 — and is still a nationally recognized leader in the marine industry — hired him. “He’s a real businessman’s businessman,” Flater says. Herndon put Flater in charge of designing high-end, custom yachts. “The company’s custom yachts were boats 92 feet and longer, and they were all built in New Bern, so I commuted from High Point. One of our customers was Felix Sabates.” Best-known for fielding NASCAR Sprint Car Racing teams, Sabates is also active in the boat business. He purchased a Stuart, Florida, Hatteras Yacht dealership and expanded it into one of the largest in the world. “I built a few boats for Felix,” Flater says. “He’d sell them just as soon as he took delivery. He’s an unbelievable salesman. But I also built the boat he kept for his family.” Flater smiles and pauses. “Would you like to look around?” he asks. He holds the door for me as we step into the area where the boats are built. Parked in front of us in a vintage Volkswagen pickup. I shake my head and grin. “I told you about the Volkswagens,” he says. “Haven’t seen one of those in a while,” I say. “Air-cooled, right?” Flater nods. “A ’59. I finally talked my grandfather into giving it up. He’s 92.” In the big space the pickup is an anomaly, of course. The production building is a gigantic, neatly organized shoebox, about five times as long as it is wide. Down the line are overhead booms, catwalks and stepladders. Boat hulls and cabins of similar sizes stand about in varying conditions of completion. About halfway up the line, just to the side, are the halves of a big, splayed-out mold. It looks like a giant mollusk. “That’s the mold we use to infuse the fiberglass for the Carolina hull,” Flater says. “We had to find a way to distinguish our boats from the competition. So June 2017

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we concentrate on building 32-foot, 36-foot, and 40-foot boats.” One of Flater’s beautifully designed, hand-crafted boats, with all the bells and whistles technology can offer, is for the serious owner — one can cost from $250,000 to as much as $3 million to purchase. “Our boats are primarily for sport fishing. The Carolina hull is very efficient in the waters around here. It has excellent stability in what’s called ‘short chop,’ it handles heavy seas well, and with a shallow tumblehome and outboard motors, the boat gets outstanding speed and distance from a tank of fuel.” The boat, with its highly effective Carolina hull, is understandably popular with charter fishing operations.” “It’s very distinctive. It draws attention. Here,” Flater says. “Stand here, against the side.” He steps next to me and looks up. “See?” he asks. “We say it’s not truly a Carolina hull unless you can get out of the rain under it.” He’s right. The flare provides shelter as wide as the eaves of a house. The design was popularized by wooden boat builders long ago on the Outer Banks, in places like Wanchese and Harkers Island. “I used to go to those places all the time,” Flater says. “The boat builders are amazing. In fact, Billy Dupree of Harkers Island built my ‘plug.’ That’s the original boat that’s used to form a mold. “I had to invest a lot of money before I got anywhere near having a finished fiberglass boat I could market,” Flater continues. “I paid Billy to build a traditional plank-on-frame Carolina hull boat that we could use to cast the mold. Once the mold is made, that’s step one.” The succeeding steps before they had a finished fiberglass hull required a huge investment of time and money. “Since Billy’s boats are so beautiful, I was able to sell the plug and get back some of the original investment,” he recalls. “Step two was making our first hull. We layer the fiberglass materials into the mold. Every one of our hulls has eleven layers. Then we infuse it.” The entire process can take a good two weeks, and the temperature must be carefully

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controlled so the fiberglass cures at the proper rate. “There are about $40,000 in materials for a hull, so we have to be sure to get it right.” The result combines what’s worked in the past with materials and design that are cutting-edge. “I tell people in our boats we build ‘tradition with technology,’” Flater says. Taking advantage of advances made by the textile industry, Slater has turned to nanofibers. “It took some trial-and-error, but we now make our hulls using nanofibers in the resins. If you picture a strand of hair as a thick rope, a nanofiber beside it would be the thickness of a thread.” The material produces strength in numbers: “These tiny fibers not only make our hulls incredibly strong — they’re literally bullet-proof — but the fibers also reduce the noise level in the hulls, which is always an issue with fiberglass boats.” We stop in front of a boat that looks finished. The hull is light blue and the helm and deck are white. The boat looks like it’s cutting effortlessly through waves, even though it’s static. I follow Flater up a stepladder and stand on the deck. The helm gleams with polished metal and varnished teak. Screens for underwater sonar and navigation, and dials and switches I can only guess at crowd the instrument panel. “This is our ‘express’ design, which means there’s more indoor space,” Flater says. “A customer sent the boat down for some upgrades. He’s a New York bond trader who lives on Long Island.” A dedicated fisherman, along with his sons, the owner is thinking about selling the boat. Why? “So we can build him a bigger one,” Slater says, “but he wanted us to change a few things before he decides whether he’ll put it on the market. Let’s take a look below.” Slater opens the hatch and steps down into the cabin. There are two sleeping berths, a galley, and a built-in flat screen TV. He turns on the reading lights in the berths. He opens and closes a couple of cabinet doors. They’re teak, with geometric designs in the wood. Everything is exquisitely finished. When the cabinet doors are closed, it’s hard to see the seams. “See why I like being near cabinet makers?” Flater asks.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

I nod, my head cocked to the side because of the overhead. “This customer is about my height,” Flater says. He’s around 5-foot-10, so he’s comfortably standing upright. “For someone your size, we’d build in more headspace,” he says. “Each of our boats is custom-made for the individual who’s buying it. That’s one of the things I like best about the business — the chance to work directly with customers.” We exit the cabin. I take one more look around the deck, and we descend the ladder. As we’re walking down the production line, I spot a hull that reminds me of the cigar boats — big and long powerful speedboats — I remember seeing in Miami. “That’s a catamaran hull we’ve been developing,” Flater says. “Very efficient. It’ll do 72 mph with a 65 hp engine.” Farther down the line, I follow Slater up a shorter ladder and take a long step over the top of the hull to the deck. Many of the appointments are sanded, showing the bare fiberglass. All the wooden fittings have been removed. “This configuration is called a ‘center console’ design, which means there’s more outdoor space,” Flater says. “We’re changing around the deck for a guy who runs a charter operation.” The layout provides lots of room for anglers to fish from different locations. “Those are covers for fish-keeper wells under the deck, all custom-made to the customer’s specifications.” Flater pats the side of an empty fiberglass cabinet. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

“This is the special console we built to add a ‘Seakeeper,’” he says. “That’s a gyro device that turns 10,000 rpm and reduces roll motion.” It’s a big help if anybody on board has a problem with seasickness. “We get our Seakeepers from Marine Tooling Technology,” Flater says. “They’re also in this building. The company is best-known for manufacturing fiberglass molds. They also do fiberglass repair, make custom parts, and supply marine technology.” From the deck of the boat Flater looks down the production line, watching as a workman spray-paints a custom fiberglass panel. “Unfortunately, this property is for sale,” he says. “But fortunately for us, since the building was constructed specifically for boat-building, it’s hard to re-configure for other uses. That’s made potential buyers cautious. “It would be hard for us to find another facility so well suited to boat-building,” he continues. “So we’re looking into getting some development help to acquire the property and turn the whole building into a marine center, with different suppliers and manufacturers located here. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could get the old Hatteras Yacht manufacturing site fully involved in boatbuilding, like back in the company’s heyday?” Given the tenacity and vision Brad Flater has shown realizing his boyhood dream, I’d bet money he’ll realize this one, too. OH A mountain boy, Ross Howell Jr. is not a sailor, though he loves the sea. June 2017

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Boys to

Men Coming of age in Troop 48

By David Claude Bailey • Illustration by Romey Petite

“D

on’t pat the pancakes!” The voice comes to my 11-year-old ears as if through gauze, muffled but clearly insistent. I’m hunkering in front of a campfire, dodging the smoke that seems to chase me no matter where I drag the massive cast-iron frying pan in which half-a-dozen pancakes sizzle and pop. I’m delirious from having spent the night doing what Boy Scouts do on camping trips, swilling soft drinks, telling stories, and feeding our faces and the fire until 2 or 3 in the morning. Once I hit the sack, I’m dealing with a caffeine buzz only achievable in the 1950s before they took the good stuff out of soft drinks, not to mention the two quarts of Double Cola pooling in my bladder. And am I the only one who hears a raccoon raiding the unwashed pots and pans? I get up as soon as I see the slightest glimmer of dawn because I never really did go to sleep and because I’m cold and hungry and someone’s making a fire. “Bailey. Don’t pat the pancakes.” It’s our scoutmaster, John Samuels. I could spend a few lines describing his long rangy gait and his penetrating blue eyes below his beetling, sandy eyebrows or his infectious smile that we all want to trigger. But it’s easier just to conjure up John Wayne, whom, to my impressionable eyes, he resembled in every possible way. I shift yet again away from the smoke, huffing and puffing as I drag the black mass of smoking cast-iron behind me. “Patting them makes them fall so that they’re flat,” Mr. Samuels says, a twinkle in his eye to blunt the bite of his criticism. I stop the spatula a quarter inch from a flapjack, obedient to his command, as yet another finger of smoke finds its way into my stinging nostrils and bleary eyeballs. Troop 48 was the best thing that ever happened to me, except maybe getting a bike for Christmas when I was 8. The bike freed me from the half-a-mile range of my mother’s booming voice to wander the back alleys of Reidsville with a gang of three, scrounging stuff like an old washing-machine motor that we lugged home and played with until smoke and flames summoned a neighbor. But it was Boy Scouts that truly liberated me from my Pennsylvania Dutch mother, who was loving, to be sure, but who had a maddening way of insisting there was a right and wrong way to do everything — and there was never any doubt which hers was. She never resisted watching as I tied my shoes — and letting me know that I was still doing it the wrong way. Nothing beat spending a weekend with boys my age, semi-supervised by a former Merchant Marine turned repo man who, on occasion, packed what looked to me like a huge, black pistol. (I later learned it was a .22-caliber Colt Woodsman.) Like most good teachers, Mr. Samuels liked to fix things. In his case, boys who needed just a bit of guidance and attention at a crucial point in their lives — and at an age, I might add, that didn’t make them particularly appealing to their fathers or anyone else.

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I’ll speak for myself. My dad did his best considering that his role model was a father who had nine children and acres of corn and tobacco that had to be tended so that the aforementioned children and wife wouldn’t starve. Plus, during the ’50s, children in my neck of the woods mostly raised themselves without the benefit of Dr. Spock or any helicoptering. Dads, at the prompting of mothers who read magazine articles on that new phenomenon called parenting, occasionally tossed a baseball with their sons or played golf with them (mine never did) or took them fishing and hunting (on rare occasions when other men weren’t available). But most kids were turned loose, along with the dogs, in the morning, and were only noticed if they didn’t come home for supper at night. Mr. Samuels, who had no children of his own (but a stunning wife who sometimes accompanied him on camping trips), took an interest in whether you knew how to handle a knife or an axe and would show you how to retain your fingers and toes doing so. He’d watch you try to put up a tent and coach you on how to do it in less than an hour. He taught us gun safety, knowing that the subject was, in fact, as serious as death — and your reading this might very well be a tribute to his tutelage. At 11 and 12, boys are between boyhood and manhood, some still believing in Santa Claus while noticing that they’re growing hair where there didn’t used to be any. On the way to becoming men, boys need mentors. Mr. Samuels took an interest in each and every one of us, even a geeky, one-eyed clumsy mother’s son like myself. I realize now that he liked seeing us grow into men and wanted us to share the values he held dear, which is what Scouting is all about, despite recent revelations and its detractors. But Troop 48 was not your run-of-the-mill Scout troop. We were a resourceful and mischievous lot who had a reputation throughout the council (and Reidsville) for being wild and crazy. Guilty as charged. Troop 48 viewed jamborees in the same way that some aboriginal tribes regard others occupying open range, a good excuse for a raiding party. Initiations, I’m ashamed to report, could sometimes be described as medieval in their ingenuity. And consider that my best friend taught First Aid to Fritz Klenner, the protagonist in Bitter Blood. The Chinese invented gunpowder. Troop 48 re-invented the gun. Since South Carolina and Myrtle Beach were only several hours away, any boy who’d recently paid a visit to either one brought fireworks on camping trips. Mr. Samuels never blinked an eye as long as we didn’t disturb his sleep or lose a digit. Armed with hundreds of firecrackers, some clever troop member figured out how to take a firecracker and an acorn and turn a harmless tent pole into a weapon of minimal destruction. Doubtless thinking that any one of us could throw an acorn a lot harder than the improvised gun could shoot it, Mr. Samuels just shook his head and warned us not to put out anyone’s eye, especially mine. I found the protective glasses my mother insisted that I wear at all times — and actually put them on — and soon we were facing off in Dodge City–style showdowns with shooters, each with his own personal fuse lighter. In the end, someone came up with the idea of replacing the acorn with something a little higher caliber, explosively speaking. This, in turn, required a series of precision actions on the part of fuse lighters that remains highly classified, Troop 48-eyes (or eye)-only information to this day. When the required calculations were just right, the projectile would explode as it flew through the air. When the fuse-lighter’s timing was even slightly off, the tent pole ended up looking like a peeled banana, which Mr. Samuels noticed, thus putting an end to our gunplay. And here I was in charge of pancakes after telling Mr. Samuels that my mom let me cook breakfast now and again, and his having eaten one of them and saying it was pretty good, if a little flat from my patting it . . . when I saw stars and smoke and flames all at the same time as John Samuels planted his size 12 boot against my backside, kicking me head-first into the fire as I patted, surely, my 20th pancake of the day. In good time, he hove me up like a puppy out of a well, holding and shaking me by the front of my untucked shirt and twisting his head slightly and smiling like a jackdaw. “Didn’t I tell you not to pat the pancakes,” he asked quite reasonably. I allowed as how he did and how I wouldn’t do it again. He deposited me back in front of the fire after kicking it back into shape and putting the pan back in front of me again, buffing the dirt off the spatula on his pants. I have never, ever patted a pancake again — or idolized anyone as much since. OH David Claude Bailey, who went on to attain the rank of Eagle, is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave and clean but rarely reverent.

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A Beacon of Light

Saint James Presbyterian Church has been serving God and the Gate City for 150 years By Grant Britt • Photographs by Lynn Donovan

“God is so great that anything we would come against, even if you have to silence us, the very blood, our very life would still preach after that. — Rev. Diane Givens Moffett, Ph.D.

t’s a beacon of hope, a monument to overcoming oppression, celebrating a century and a half of black pride and African-American accomplishment. Founded by slaves in 1867, Greensboro’s Saint James Presbyterian Church is much more than just a house of worship. From its inception, it’s given strength, purpose, education, awareness, and healing to its members and the community. “When the church was founded 150 years ago, there were people who had just recently been freed,” says Lolita Watkins, chair of the church’s 150th Anniversary Activity Book and Historic Kick-Off event. “They were worshiping up in the balcony at a local church, First Presbyterian,” Watkins says of the church’s founders, who moved to a new church with little fanfare. “At some point, they decided to move on and didn’t tell the folks at First Presbyterian they were going. The pastor and the elders looked up and they weren’t there anymore. The folks said, ‘It’s time for us to get outta here,’ and they did.” Watkins’ research reveals that the newly formed church’s first pastor was a Lexington-based minister named Crestfield. “His name was James,” Watkins

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says. “The thing is, we don’t know if they thought they were naming it relating to the Bible, or the name of their first pastor.” Within a year of their first assemblage, the tiny congregation of a little more than 30 souls had bought a small house on Forbis Street (now Church Street). By 1872, the church had outgrown its original home, dismantling the house and building a larger, wood-framed church on the site with an additional parsonage next door. Even in those early days, the church was already providing more than just worship services. Around 1870, Saint James had established the Percy Street School, the first black school in Greensboro. It was a one-room setting accommodating 150 men, women and children. Realizing that the decided space was too cramped, church elders asked the state board of education for support in in building a larger school. “The Percy School was called the first graded school,” adds Lynette Hawkins, publicity chair for the 150th anniversary committee. “There were no other schools for African Americans.” Watkins says there was some private tutoring done at another AfricanAmerican church, but this was a public school facility. “The founding principles of the church were education, naturally; civil rights, and social justice.” Ever since then, Saint James members have been actively involved in civil rights and social justice issues on a local and national level. In December 1955, George Simkins, a local dentist and head of the local NAACP chapter, was arrested when he challenged the city-owned Greensboro’s Gillespie Golf Course’s The Art & Soul of Greensboro

contention that it was a private course and therefore could refuse membership or entry to anyone. Convicted of simple trespass and fined $15, plus court costs, Simkins, along with five golfing buddies branded the Greensboro Six, took the case all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court and had their sentences commuted by Gov. Luther Hodges. The city closed the facility until 1962, when it reopened as an integrated course. Simkins also took on Cone Hospital and Wachovia Bank’s segregation policies and won. Watkins cites other church members involved in civil rights actions including James McMillan, an art instructor at Bennett College who advised students during the time of integration at Woolworth’s lunch counter sit-ins. He also co-founded the African-American Atelier in the Greensboro Cultural Center, with church member Eva Hammond Miller, Congresswoman Alma Adams and others. Another church stalwart, attorney J. Kenneth Lee, was nicknamed the Thurgood Marshall of North Carolina because of his involvement in more than 100 court cases having to do with civil rights. “He was the founder of American Federal Savings and Loan, one of the first lending institutions in the state of N.C. designed to help African-American families who were routinely denied loans to buy houses or cars here in Greensboro,” Watkins says. “One of the first African Americans to finish law school at UNC-Chapel Hill, he had to use the courts in order to be admitted.” Watkins also mentions Dr. George Evans, a local doctor who was one of the first blacks to be appointed to Greensboro Housing Authority, very active locally in civil rights, as well as John Brown Erwin, another church member who was vice president of the NAACP for 42 years. “The church still supports NAACP in terms of their banquet and monetary contributions, “ Watkins says. Among the roster of noteworthy congregants was Robert Tyrone “Pat” Patterson, who took part in the 1960 Woolworth’s sit-in. Patterson and a group of fellow N.C. A&T students, Joe McNeill, David Richmond, Ezell Blair and Franklin McCain, were studying for a chemistry exam when a boycott of Pepsi-Cola taking place in Wilmington came up in conversation, inspring the students to come up with the idea of a similar boycott in Greensboro. “I thought that it was a kind of half-hearted kind of decision and didn’t think any more about it until the next day,” Patterson told interviewer Eugene E. Pfaff in a 1989 Greensboro Public Library Oral History Program interview: “I was on my way to an electrical engineering class when they passed me going to class, indicated they were going downtown to sit-in. I said, ‘Fellows, I really don’t have time to just go downtown to drive around if you are not going to do it.’ Obviously I didn’t believe they would do it. So they went down and they did, they sat-in at Woolworth. And I guess the next day was when I got involved directly. We started demonstrating at that time, and did a lot of demonstrating.” Patterson was vice chairman of the Congress of Racial Equality chapter in Greensboro in 1963. Church members and college professors Ernest and wife Adnee Bradford also played a prominent role in the civil rights movement. While serving as a Presbyterian minister in Selma, Alabama, in ’62, the Bradfords participated in the anti-segregation activities of that era. “My husband graduated from Morehouse College,” Adnee Bradford says in a recent phone interview. “He came under the influence of Benjamin E. Mays, then president of Morehouse, The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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who would influence my husband, Martin Luther King, and almost everybody else who went to Morehouse.” She continues the thread: “When my husband and I were dating, he was saying Dr. Mays encouraged Morehouse men not to participate in any system that dehumanized them. So my husband would not take me to the Fox Theatre in Atlanta for any reason, because it was segregated, and black people had to climb these high stairs to go into what Ernest called ‘the buzzard roost.’” It was an epiphany for Bradford, who says, “from that time on, I realized my husband was very aware of racism. He believed there were things we could do in order to help get rid of it or certainly not participate in our own dehumanization.” “He was an activist,” Bradford says. Her husband joined with Dr. King, attending meetings when the Selma NAACP was planning the march to Montgomery. “But we were also tying to desegregate the system in Selma so that black people could vote. And my husband actually went to jail. He participated in the march that Sunday that’s become known as Bloody Sunday. I remember that Sunday when Ernest left, and when he came back home, he was just distraught because of what had happened on that bridge,” she says, her voice trembling with emotion as she recalls the pain and degradation inflicted on the marchers that day. “And he named people who were knocked down, Mrs. Amelia Boynton, for example.” Boynton, who was the first African-American to run for a seat in congress from Alabama, was beaten unconscious on the Edmund Pettus Bridge on March 7, 1965. The nationally distributed picture of her lying bloodied and senseless on the bridge over the Alabama River in Selma that Sunday was a critical factor in pressuring President Lyndon Johnson to enact the Voting Rights Act in August of that same year, with Boynton as the guest of honor at the signing ceremony. Although her husband was on the front lines, Bradford was behind the scenes at first. “I taught at the all-black high school, Hudson High School in Selma,” she says. “Our students were participating in the marches, they were attending the mass meetings and they saw Dr. King when he came to town, and they were telling it to us when they’d come to class. And I can hear myself saying to the students that what they were doing made a difference, but they were not to neglect their education. All of us as teachers, we’re in the schools teaching, and the kids are out there in the streets.” The head of the local NAACP at the time, Rev. Frederick D. Reece, was a math teacher whose classroom was just across the hall from her classroom. “The day came when the question was, ‘What are the teachers doing?’” Bradford says. “We weren’t out there because we knew any one of us going out could have easily been fired. But Rev. Reece wasn’t afraid to be out there.” Reece called a meeting of the segregated Selma Teachers Association, appealing to the teachers to take a stand by marching to the Dallas County Courthouse. “His emphasis was ‘in numbers there is strength,’” Bradford says. “And so we agreed. We marched after the school day had ended. And I remember all day long as faculty, as we passed each other we would say, ‘Do you have your bag ready?’ Meaning, do you have your toothbrush and do you have a change of clothes, ’cause we thought we might just go to jail,” she chuckles nervously. “And so we marched. And we did not go to jail. And that became kind of a historic moment in Selma for the teachers.” The Bradfords came to Greensboro and Saint James in ’76, when Adnee was hired to teach at Winston-Salem State University. Her husband continued his activism. “My husband became involved with Nelson Johnson and the Beloved Community and the Greensboro Truth and Reconciliation Project,” she says. The 2004 GTRC consisted of an independent panel of seven, nominated by the community, to investigate the November 3, 1979, Klan/Nazi and Communist Workers Party confrontation that left five dead and 10 injured in the Morningside Homes community during a “Death to the Klan” demonstra-

tion. “At the time of his death in 2009, he was still involved in the struggle with human and civil rights,”Bradford says. In April, as part of the church’s 150th anniversary celebration, Dr. Bradford led a discussion that accompanied the 2015 documentary Selma: Bridge to the Ballot, about the part students and teachers played in Selma striving for voting rights. It brings back vivid memories of the indignities she and others suffered in Selma in those days. “I went back to Selma in 2014 for the commemoration of the Edmund Pettus Bridge, for that Bloody Sunday. All I remember about Selma is that it was a segregated town, blacks really had no rights. We lived in a segregated community, could not vote. I remember the treatment of black people, the segregated stores, the way we were treated when we went to the stores downtown, the way white folks looked at us,” she recalls. She says a recent PBS broadcast talked about the Montgomery bus boycotts and why they were successful made her think about what might have been possible in Selma. “Black people really have supported through the years segregation, have supported a racist system just by being alive. And those folks in Montgomery were successful in that boycott, so in Selma, we needed to have done the same kind of thing.” But she still carries the memories and the principles earned so dearly in those early days. “I know how we would fold hands and sing ‘We shall overcome, always, always.’ And somebody was talking about not being able to be nonviolent, and I said, ‘Well, Dr. King never had people go into the streets willy-nilly.’ There was always some preparation in going out, in terms of being nonviolent, and the songs and the sermons and the messages that were heard, all a part of the strategy to carry marches, to go and to take the abuse leveled against them, even as they protest — a peaceful revolution.” But in spite of its activism and drive, in early 2000 the church felt that it needed some new blood to help it continue to grow. The older movers and shakers needed some young energy to reach out to young adults, to rejuvenate and reactivate the principles on which the church was founded. Reverend Diane Givens Moffett, Ph.D. got the call in 2005, and answered. Moffett, a 20-year pastoring vet from California, heard about the opening from Saint James member Margie Ward. “I felt God calling me to come here almost 11 years ago in June of 2005,”she says. “My specialty was evangelism and discipleship. I had grown churches, I was the type of person who would come in and do renewal or transformative ministry, see what the possibilities were and try to realize them.” But there was one major question that needed answering. “I wanted to make sure they were open to the challenge to call a woman because my dossier stood out, but they would always come back with ‘but she’s a woman, should we do this?’” she laughs. “It was a bold stand to call the first woman, because I’ve been first in every place I’ve been. It was a good match. God has done a lot of wonderful things here,” she says. Moffett says she knew the church had a history of civil rights involvement and cultivating strong ties with the community, but wasn’t aware of just how deeply the church’s roots were entwined in the movement. “Did I know particular people like George Simkins and Dr. George Evans and all these people we have featured in our Achievers and Believers Book? No, but I knew that the church was a beacon of light in terms of mandating social change.” The pastor says when she started thinking seriously about coming to town, she started researching Saint James. “I learned it was formed by freed slaves that left First Presbyterian Church Greensboro in 1867 and I thought ‘Oh, these are bold, these are edgy people.’” She was impressed as well as with that first congregation’s decision to

“I felt God calling me to come here . . .”

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start a school. “The church from its very inception understands the wholeness of our humanity, not just spiritually, but economically and socially,” Moffett says. “Not only did they have the church, they developed a school for the freed slaves who needed to know how to negotiate this new territory. That’s in our spiritual DNA,” she asserts. “Activism, impact on community. We’re not a church that sits and turns inward. We’re a church that understands that the church was formed to make a positive impact on the community.” To that end, Moffett and church leaders have been consulting with community leaders to implement programs to help. Their vision is three-pronged. The first part addresses renovations to the church to give easier access for the elderly and disabled. The second phase is to establish a community center, the third, a child development center. Saint James partners with Cone Hospital to achieve some of those goals (Moffett is on the board of the Cone Foundation) and has engaged a congregational psychiatric nurse who works with those needing help with mentalhealth issues. The church also feeds their bodies as well as their souls. “We call them our guests, our neighbors, those who are homeless, economically disadvantaged,” Moffett says. “Every Sunday we have a hot healthy meal, don’t fill ’em up with carbs and things that are not healthy for them. Make sure that people who need access to care have it.” In Saint James’s fellowship hall, others in need can also sit down to a hot meal. “We have our bus, we’ll go pick them up. Sometimes they’re down at the Urban Ministry, Interactive Resource Center; we go get some, some bring themselves, some are coming on bicycles, some walking from Martin Luther King Street, some driving themselves, some coming with children,” Lynette Hawkins says. “We’re really just connecting with people who need to be fed. What I have learned is that there are a lot of people out here hungry. Greensboro is a major area when it comes to providing those kinds of resources, so once they have hooked up with it, they are friends for life, really feel connected in some way.” Education is also a key issue. The church is publishing a book, Achievers and Believers, and coordinating a book tour with Waldo C. Falkener Sr. Elementary and George Simkins Elementary schools, among other Greensboro primary schools. The book tour includes trips to the homes of those who contributed to the city’s history, as well as a trip to Vance Chavis Library, named after another church member. “We are in partnership with Falkener Elementary School when they have any kind of special needs,” Lynette Hawkins says. “They were recently doing some kind of testing, so we had volunteers go and help them” There’s also a box at entrance to the church where people donate school supplies for teachers who work at Falkener. “We are very sensitive to the needs of the community, and we really try to look at where we’re gonna donate so we can help move it further.” In addition, the church partners with Cone for the MedAssist plan, giving over $1000,000 worth of medication to more than 1,080 people who came

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standing with immigrants and refugees who are as scared as I don’t know what right now. We’re standing with people. The LGBTQ community, we have to stand with people. My understanding is that God is concerned about EVERYONE. And NOBODY’s humanity, I don’t care who they are, is up for disposal. Or to be disregarded. This is not what we do. We create a healing environment for everyone. That’s what I preach and hope.” The message comes from above, but what goes on down below can help spread some of that light around. “Eternal life is not just for the sweet bye and bye,” Moffett asserts, “but for the nasty here and now, it’s about a quality of life right here. So I encourage our church by my own example as embodying it, to touch people’s lives.” She continues: “But let us understand that everyone who ever did anything, including these people: George Simkins, Martin Luther King, when they were going through it, it was tough. Now, years later, you apologize and it’s celebrated, but while you’re going through it, it’s no fun. We’ve seen God do amazing things,” Saint James’ fiery pastor says. “I’m always hopeful.” OH Grant Britt writes about churchy as well as secular matters, his hilltop perch across from a graveyard keeping him humble.

to the church last year to get over-the-counter medicines. Moffett says that economically disadvantaged and/or homeless often don’t have the money to buy the over-the -counter medicines that could help cure a cold or deter it so it doesn’t go into something worse. “Basically this organization has the resources to be able to get things that might have been at one of the pharmacies. They’re not expired but maybe the box is a little torn. Those thing were given away and people filled the sanctuary multiple times to line up in our fellowship hall and get free supplies,” says Lynette Hawkins. “Our theme is ‘Touching lives through Jesus Christ. We’re aware there are so many needs, medical needs, educational needs, our focus is to try and identify those things.” And once the physical needs are met, Moffett has to lead her flock through the current political climate as well, promoting a sense of hope and encouragement against what may seem at times to be insurmountable odds. “We’re celebrating our 150th anniversary. We’ve always had to deal with insurmountable odds so let’s not get it twisted here,” Moffett says heatedly. “We came over here in crisis. We came over here not because we emigrated, or migrated as some books want to say, believe it or not, people are saying we migrated, forced migration, right? We came over in crisis, and we come from a history of very strong people who overcame with a lot less than we have today, so my issue is, I tell my congregation we’ve got to work like everything depends on us, pray like everything depends on God, but we’ve got to be active in our community.” And in the spirit of activism the church is known for, Moffett speaks out against would-be oppressors. “Time to make our voices known, to stand with those who are hurt by some of policies that have been implemented. It’s a time for the church to be the church.” “There’s always hope,” the pastor says. “ When it’s dark, the light shines even brighter. We’ve got to be able to move forward, help people to register to vote. I served as vice president of pulpit forum and also co-chair of Greensboro Interfaith Leadership Council. We really are working on The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Story of a House

Outta Sight

An extraordinary architectural gem stands apart from others in Lake Daniel By Billy Ingram Photographs by Amy Freeman

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was maybe 13 years old, piloting my well-worn Schwinn Sting-Ray Fastback around Lake Daniel Park for the first time, when I crushed handbrakes into handlebars so forcefully the rear tire left a schmear of rubber across the pavement. I dropped the bike where it stood to gaze up at an anomaly. Tucked into a shady bluff was an angular, avant-garde structure built entirely of natural timbers with glass accents and enormous decks encircling both floors. Newly rooted leatherleaf mahonia in the garden frontage accented a winding, gray slate pathway leading from the curb to an imposing wood-planked front door. Oh, how I wanted to steal up those steps and sneak a closer look! As luck would have it, I found myself climbing that very stone staircase more than 45 years later only to discover — that’s no longer the entrance. That striking home on East Lake Drive still rises in defiant contrast to the provincial brick rancheros, colonials and gabled Tudors the Lake Daniel section of Westerwood is known for. There was no way I could have known at the time, but this rare excursion into Modernism closely resembled the sunbathed, redwood-and-glass framed bungalows Frank Lloyd Wright protégé W. Earl Wear was designing in the Organic architectural style alongside the one-lane dirt roads that were being carved into Topanga Canyon above Hollywood in the 1960s. If the shortest distance between one point to another is a straight line, Ed and Chandra Young’s journey towards becoming owners of this buoyant abode in 2013 was decidedly more circuitous. He was studying graphic design and advertising and she, interior design at the famed Ringling College on Florida’s Gulf Coast in the mid-1970s when Chandra bought one of Ed’s artworks. “I didn’t pay him for it and the next year he came and collected the money,” she recalls. They married not long after, “So he got the girl, the painting and the money!” After excursions into Nashville, Tennessee, then New Orleans to help a friend jumpstart an ad agency, they settled in the Buckhead area of Atlanta where Ed founded his own advertising firm, Young & Martin Design, and Chandra began her 30-year career as an interior designer.

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More recently, the couple lived in Yadkinville for three years looking after a family member. (Chandra was born in North Carolina. Ed grew up in Florida.). Ed tells me, “When we went from Buckhead to Yadkinville, way out in the woods, it actually hurt my ears it was so quiet.” It was then they decided to sell the house in Atlanta. “We were like, ‘OK, where do we want to live?’” Chandra spent two years trolling Zillow, scrolling through pictures of houses all across the Southeast. “We lived in ranch houses in Atlanta and they were cool,” she says. “We turned them into really fascinating environments, but that’s not what we were looking for. In the meantime I got a job in High Point and Ed was doing design work out of the home.” Then that fateful call from a realtor, Mandy Kinney: “I work with her daughter. She called us and said, ‘I think I found you a house!’” They looked at it online and “knew as soon as we saw it that this was the one. I guess because I’ve known houses as an interior designer, and my parents were contractors, so I didn’t want just an ordinary place. We couldn’t have designed a home that was any more perfect.” Almost perfect. “It was funny, when we drove up in the driveway the first time we came to look at the house, Ed goes, ‘Nope. I don’t like brown.’ I said, ‘Are you kidding me? Let’s just go in and look.’ So we came in, fell in love, and we go back to the car and he says, ‘Wow, what brown can do for you!’” (You see, one of Ed’s clients in Atlanta was UPS and their slogan for many years was . . . oh, never mind.) Ed’s solution? “Last year we painted the exterior in an espresso color.” This hillside homestead, in the 1970s — so readily dismissed by the hoi polloi as “the ugliest house in Greensboro” — was and is a forward-thinking masterpiece. The entire home was engineered from the beginning to be ecologically friendly, a very progressive and unconventional ideal when it was constructed in 1969 for Mary and Norman Jarrard and their son Porter. This was at a time, after all, when power companies ran TV ads touting the joys associated with consuming as much electricity as possible, while the typical automobile guzzled a gallon of gas (costing 30 cents) to motor a mere 8 miles. An N.C. A&T and Greensboro College English professor, Norman Jarrard designed this home to have an open feel. It has one enormous communal space on the upper floor that leads out to spacious raised decks on all sides, with two large bedrooms occupying the west wing. Just about every surface came out of the earth as Chandra points out, “At one point they ran out of fir [timber]. It took them quite a while just to get this many fir beams for the house in the late ’60s.” Even the light fixtures are unconventional: “The switches are all low voltage so we have

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push button lights. I still don’t know where all of these buttons connect to . . .” A membrane roof, more commonly found in industrial buildings, is situated over another membrane. “When the nuts fall and they roll down the roof, you can hear every roll.” Chandra laughs. “We love it! When it rains you can really hear it.” Other advantages to a membrane roof: Leaks are unlikely and, even with two-story high ceilings dotted with numerous skylights of varying proportions, it’s incredibly energy efficient. Allison and Roger Hunt purchased the place in 2006 and undertook a massive overhaul, from shag carpeting to pitched ceiling, retaining the charm and instinctual flow to the home while enhancing it greatly. Walls gave way to picture windows and sliding glass doors that flood the second floor with natural light. They installed hardwood floors as smooth as butter and just a few shades darker. “These wood beams are from Mrs. Hunt’s grandfather’s tobacco barn,” Chandra says. “You’ll see a lot of wood in the house that originated from there.” Urinals were ripped out of the bathrooms (water conservation, don’t you know) and the master bath was tiled, walls and floor, in vividly colored slate. The Hunts also relocated the entrance to what was the rear of the home, hence the confusion on Ed and Chandra Young’s part when, upon my arrival, I rang a doorbell they weren’t familiar with. Chandra was born in Winston-Salem, and her connections to that city reverberate to this day: “My parents were building contractors,” she says. “They started in the early ’60s.” Her mother was only the second woman in North Carolina to earn a building contractor’s license, and she and her husband developed a lot of Sherwood Forest, the neighborhood that abuts the Twin City’s older, more stately Buena Vista. “I even named some of the streets when I was a kid,” Chandra remembers. “They’d start developing a street and say, ‘We need to name it,’ so we would do our homework and look up the Robin Hood stories to come up with names.” Those of you reading this who live on Friar Tuck Road, now know why. “My parents developed the last properties in their 80s,” Chandra says. “She is 90 this year and my dad is 97, a World War II veteran.” Nowadays, as showroom manager for the Antiques & Design Center of High Point, Chandra helps produce their twice-yearly events for the furniture market. “I knew I didn’t want to pursue an interior The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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design career here. It takes a long time to get established. This is the next best thing.” On “full-time retirement,” Ed is employed as lead artist for Trader Joe’s. “I hand letter all their signs so I get to draw all day,” he explains. “The younger artists I work with ask, ‘How do you know all those fonts?’” Chandra tells me, “Ed studied calligraphy before the computer. This was a whole process with his business, having to change from hand lettering to the computer and now he’s back to hand lettering. There aren’t many who have that skill.” No surprise they are both fans of functionality and practicality. “We like things that are handmade, I’m not crazy about manufactured things. We use everything. Most everything you see are things that mean something to us.” The kitchen is laid out like a country store. An old shop cabinet with deep drawers from the late-1800s serves as a cupboard, the perfect complement for a vintage Niedermaier buffet hutch from Germany on the opposite side of the room. Shelving fashioned from tobacco barn slabs imbue the room with a homey feel. French railroad signs adorn one corner, arrows pointing every which way, just as the living space extends outward in every direction. A glass door and windows open up to the pool outside, while a pair of sliding wooden panels are positioned at the top of a stairway leading down to the lower level where, lo and behold, there is another fully-appointed three-bedroom, two-bath suite where clients occasionally stay during Market. Design touches reflect Romanian and Korean culture, where two of the Young’s adopted children were born. (Their third was born in the United States.) A dining room table purchased from an old farmhouse serves as a coffee table. Chandra confides, “We just sawed the legs off.” Elsewhere, the house is animated with Ed’s bold Pop art paintings, photo montages, mid-century elementary school art tables

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and odd antiquities that have caught the couple’s eye over the years. A not-very-English muffin with so many cozy nooks and crannies, such a multitude of private spaces both indoors and out, a couple could still live happily ever after here — without ever catching sight of one another. Fortunately, that’s not the case. As for curb appeal, their habitat is barely visible from the street. Joggers and passers-by along the Greenway below can be glimpsed momentarily through the leafy confines, yet no one looks up or seems to notice this aerie atoll. “We smell the grass but don’t have to mow it,” is only one of the perks to living near a park that Ed appreciates. “We like the privacy but we’re still connected to the neighborhood and the Greenway. When they have the ball games, you can see fireworks above the trees.” The house is easily within striking distance of downtown and one of the city’s busiest corridors, but, even during a day lounging on one of several decks or poolside, the oceanic shush of passing cars is the only suggestion of a world outside. Nearing a half-century moored into the cultural identity of this splendid historic neighborhood, where generations have taken root and continue to prosper, the Jarrad House blends comfortably into the landscape, no longer a futuristic anomaly but a lush Más a Tierra for two Crusoes. “We looked at little communities in Atlanta, the new ones that they’re building now where all the houses are different, and they’re just like Westerwood except they’re brand new but not very interesting or diverse. We love everything about this neighborhood,” Chandra says, pausing. “This is like heaven.” OH The DVD of Billy Ingram’s weirdo TV series, The Nathan Stringer Summer Music Show, will be inducted into the Library of Congress this month. It’s available at Amazon.com. (Cheapskates can watch it free on YouTube.)

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— Botanicus —

Aphrodite’s Tears The timeless appeal of summer roses

By Ross Howell Jr.

June mornings I walk my dog Sam on a route that takes us by the rose garden of a house facing Fisher Park.

There’s a white trellis laden with the pink blossoms of a climbing rose. Next to the trellis, just inches beyond the white picket fence at the sidewalk, is a tea rose garden. Standing by the picket fence, I’m about face-to-face with the tea roses. Delicate, intricate petals of red, of white, of yellow, calmly observe me. If Sam and I are early enough, there are still drops of dew on their faces. I try not to, but I’m ogling. They’re so beautiful. So serene. So voluptuous. And the fragrance! I breathe in the scent, smiling. Sam looks up at me, a little doubtful as to the meaning of all this. I stand very still, and savor the fragrance again. Is it any wonder roses have fascinated us humans for ages? Some sources say roses have been cultivated in China as far back as the 14th century B.C. For the ancient Greeks, the rose was the symbol of Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Legend holds that she created the rose from her tears, or in some accounts, from drops of her blood when she was pricked by thorns. And there’s history. “Around the 12th or 13th century, knights returning from the Crusades brought the rose home to Europe,” writes Kayley Hollis. By the 15th century, the white rose had come to symbolize York, and the red rose Lancaster, two factions struggling for control of England. This is the conflict historians call the War of the Roses.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

“The red rose is still the emblem of England, since Lancaster won the war,” Hollis writes. “Roses were in such high demand during the 17th century that royalty considered roses or rose water as legal tender.” Then there’s popular culture. Roses figure in every schoolboy’s love poem to a sweetheart ever written. It’s elemental in theatrical productions, major motion pictures, novels. According to knot.com, the rose is the No. 1 flower of choice for bridal bouquets and arrangements. And our very own Replacements Ltd., tells me that “rose” is used in the description of an astonishing 25,963 china patterns, 2,913 crystal patterns, and 2,493 silver patterns! How sweet’s the smell where I stand on the sidewalk. Jane Jackson, the neighbor who owns these beauties, tells me each of the tea varieties was chosen for its fragrance. As for the pink climbing rose on the trellis, “That’s ‘New Dawn,’” she says, “and honestly, it grows like kudzu.” I notice irrigation lines in the tea rose bed, and I’m eager to ascribe that to my own lack of success with roses. “Oh, that,” Jackson says. “I never use it. Plants thrive on neglect, if you ask me. They develop roots better.” I ask the usual gardener’s question about cutting away spent blossoms. “Oh, I know I’d get more roses if I dead headed more often,” Jackson says. “But people walking by enjoy the roses so much, I leave them longer than I should.” For that Sam and I are grateful. At least I am. Sam has noticed a squirrel in the park. OH Ross Howell Jr. has assured his editors he’s not nearly as odd as this essay makes him sound.

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In June as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day. No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them. – Aldo Leopold By Ash Alder

The mockingbird sings 100 songs. Ballads of honeysuckle and wild rose. Lady’s slipper. Skipper and milkweed. Plump strawberries. Cottontail and mophead hydrangeas. June is here, he whistles, prelude to a queue of tunes about cukes and pole beans, creaky tire swings, hives full of honey. His morning song, syrupy as the last spring breeze, is interrupted by a string of sharp rasps. The tune tells how to scold a crow. As fox kits scuffle in a pine-fringed wood, the sweep of a tail sends a troupe of dandelion seeds swirling into the dreamy green yonder. Summer is near, the mockingbird calls. We can feel the truth of it. Cicada skin clings to the grooved bark of an ancient willow. On the solstice, a little girl finds it. The mockingbird watches her carry it home. Summer is here, the bird sings. The girl places the empty vessel on her windowsill, hums a tune as sunlight washes over the golden amulet. Evening unfolds. Fireflies dance beneath the sugar maple and a resident toad joins the cricket symphony. Mockingbird sleeps, yet the music swells into the night.

Magic of Midsummer The days grow longer. On Friday, June 9, a full Strawberry Moon illuminates the tidy spirals of golden hay dotting a nearby pasture. For Algonquin tribes, this moon announced ripe fruit to be gathered. Because the hives now hum heavy, the June moon is also called the Mead Moon. Honey, water and yeast. Patience. Sip slowly the magic of this golden season. Perhaps stemming from the ancient Druid belief that summer solstice symbolizes the “wedding of Heaven and Earth,” many consider June an auspicious month for marriage. This year, Solstice falls on Tuesday, June 20. Celebrate

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

the longest day of the year with sacred fire and dance. Now until Dec. 21, the days are getting shorter. Sip slowly the magic of these golden hours. When the sun sets on Friday, June 23 — a new moon — bonfires will crackle in the spirit of Saint John’s Eve. On this night, ancient Celts powdered their eyelids with fern spores in hopes of seeing the wee nature spirits who dance on the threshold between worlds.

Lady’s Fingers

Some like it hot. Some like it cold. Whichever your preference, fresh okra is one of this month’s most delicious offerings. Also called lady’s fingers, okra is a member of the mallow family (think cotton, hollyhock and hibiscus). The edible seedpods of this flowering plant are rich in vitamins and minerals that promote healthy vision, skin and immune system. Because it’s an excellent source of fiber, okra also promotes healthy digestion. Father’s Day falls on Sunday, June 18. Say “I love you” with a jar of pickled okra — local and, perhaps, with a kick.

Everlasting Love

When you send someone roses — the birth flower of June — the color of the petals tells all. Red reads romance. Pink for gratitude. White or yellow for friendship. Orange for passion.

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine. – William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

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June 2017

MUSEP 6/

June 1 TREE-MENDOUS. 6:30 p.m. How fitting that a roots band named Balsam Ridge should perform in a botanical garden. Paul J. Ciener Botanical Garden, 215 South Main Street, Kernersville. Tickets: (336) 996-7888 or cienerbotanicalgarden.org.

June 1–June 4 LAST CHANCE. Explore the variety in a seemingly scaled-back genre and its successor attMinimalism/Post-Minimalism. Weatherspoon Art

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Chance Meeting 6/

Museum, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

June 1–August 26 LIKE ATTRACTS LIKE. Similarities in paintings’ structure, theme and technique are apparent in Affinities & Variations. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

June 2 B-SIDE THEMSELVES. 6:30 p.m. Listen to

Street Gang 6/

9-11

the bluesy sound of local rockers the B-Sides at First Friday. GreenHill, 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org.

June 2–30 DOUBLE TAKES. GreenHill and Art Alliance join forces for Influence, featuring the works of 18 instructors. Opening reception on 6/2 at 6 p.m.; artist talk on 6/28 at 6:30 p.m. GreenHill, 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3337460 or greenhillnc.org.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Arts Calendar

Clint Stint 6/

Tea-Hee

17 & 18

Author, editor, golfer 6/

June 3

June 3 & 4

June 4

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 3 p.m. Meet George Lakey, author of Viking Economics: How the Scandinavians Got It Right and How We Can Too. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernong books.com.

I TAKE THEE . . . 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. Be a wedding crasher at a re-enactment of an early American Quaker wedding ceremony. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

MUSEP. 6 p.m. It’s that time of year again! Music for a Sunday Evening in the Park kicks off with the jazzy sounds of the Wally West Little Big Band. Blandwood Mansion, 447 West Washington Street, Greensboro. Info: musep.info.

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Steve Cushman, author of Hopscotch. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernong books.com.

June 3–August 20

June 6

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

LIVING THINGS. Objects take on new life and meaning at Single-Channel Catalyst II. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Dada Maheshvarandanda, author of Cooperative Games for a Cooperative World. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernong books.com. June 2017

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Arts Calendar A GUY NAMED JOE. 8 p.m. And whatever you do, don’t call him “Shoeless.” Step out to hear singer/songwriter Joe Jackson. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

June 6–8 HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. First National Bank Field, 408 Bellemeade Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2682255 or www.milb.com.

June 7 CHANCE MEETING. 7 p.m. Chance the Rapper brings it to the stage. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

June 8 FERN-ISHINGS. 6 p.m. Learn all about ferns at a

lecture by Lisa Lofland Gould. Paul Ciener Botanical Garden, 215 South Main Street, Kernersville. Info: (336) 996-7888 or cienerbotanicalgarden.org. A GOOD ’UN NAMED GIDDENS. 7:30 p.m. Local sensation Rhiannon Giddens delivers sweet sounds. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

June 9 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Kayla Rae Whitaker, author of The Animators. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernong books.com.

June 9–11 STREET GANG. Sesame Street goes international by introducing a new character from India at Sesame Street Live Make a New Friend. Performance times vary. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West

Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

June 10 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 3 p.m. Meet Cynthia Strauff, author of Echoes of the Alum Chine. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernong books.com.

June 10 & 24 HAMMERED. 10 a.m. Iron ain’t got a chance when the Blacksmith is back in town. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

June 11 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 3 p.m. Meet Steve Compton, author of Jugtown Pottery: 1917 – 2017: A Century of Art and Craft in Clay. Scuppernong

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Arts Calendar Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernong books.com. MUSEP. 6 p.m. Greensboro Big Band brings it and swings it. Greensboro College, 815 West Market Street, Greensboro. Info: musep.info.

DON’T STOP BELIEVIN’. 7:30 p.m. The TV show Glee made Journey cool again — but if you were forever theirs faithfully, they never stopped bein’ cool. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 West Gate City Boulevard, Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

June 11 & 25

June 13

THE TONG SHOW. 1 p.m. The master of iron is back and his forge is smokin’! High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

June 12 TINY DANCERS. 9 a.m. Ballet Boot Camp — in slippers? It’s just one of many camps and classes for would-be ballerinas ages 3 and up. The School of Greensboro Ballet, 200 North Davie Street, Third floor, Greensboro. To register: (336) 3337480 or greensboroballet.org.

CLINT STINT. 7 p.m. See it if only to hear one of the best movie lines ever: “Dyin’ ain’t much of a livin’, boy.” Clint Eastwood’s The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976) blasts onto the screen. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

June 13–18 HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. First National Bank Field, 408 Bellemeade Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 268-

Tiny Dancers

2255 or www.milb.com.

3505 Bromley Wood Lane Beautifully renovated for today’s tastes, this stately home on 3.25 acres in gated Bromley Woods is the consummate definition of gracious southern living in the 21st century. 6200 sf on 3 levels. 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, 2 powder rooms. Master on main with fireplace. Custom gourmet kitchen. Formal living room, dining room, library, den, bonus room & office. 2 garages /6 spaces. $1,300,000.00 for a video walkthrough, go to YouTube: 3505 Bromley Wood Lane

Waban Carter REALTOR, Broker, GRI, CRS,ABR

336-601-6363 The Art & Soul of Greensboro

June 2017

O.Henry 81

Arts Calendar We Will Rock You

June 15 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet poet Mary Barbara Moore. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

June 16–August 20 FENNELL VISION. An N.C. artist’s works reveal how he sees the world at Edge of Perception: Richard Fennell Retrospective. GreenHill 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7460 greenhillnc.org.

June 17 WALK THE WALK. 8 a.m. With historian Glen Chavis, who’ll give guided tour of the Washington Street district. Changing Tides Cultural Center, 613 Washington Street, High Point. To reserve: (336) 885-1859.

CASS JEWELERS BEAutifuL JEWELRy foR A LifEtimE

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AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 1 p.m. Meet Joe Mobley, author of North Carolina Governor Richard Caswell: Founding Father and Revolutionary Hero. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

Visit

➛

THE SHINING. 2 to 10 p.m. Raise — or make that “rays” — a little-you-know-what at the Greensboro Summer Solstice Festival. Admisision is $5. Greensboro Arboretum, 401 Ashland Drive, and Lindley Park (3299 Starmount Drive), Greensboro. Info: greensborosummersolstice.org.

June 17 & 18 TEA HEE! 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. Learn all about tea in colonial culture. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

June 17–October 15



online @

www.ohenrymag.com

ART NOUVEAU. The name says it all: RedHot and New: Recent Additions to the Collection. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

June 18 MUSEP. 6:30 p.m. Philharmonia of Greensboro

82 O.Henry

June 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Arts Calendar

Author, Author Meet Joe Mobley keeps it classy — and classical. Barber Park, 1500 Dans Road, Greensboro. Info: musep.info.

June 20 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. John Duberstein introduces the memoir The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying by the late Nina Riggs. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernong books.com.

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June 22 AUTHOR, EDITOR, GOLFER. 6 p.m. O.Henry’s Editor Jim Dodson reads from his latest, The Range Bucket List. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernong books.com.

June 24 & 25 MEDICAL FIELD. 10 a.m. & 1 p.m. A battlefield to be precise. Civil War re-enactors recreate Alexander’s Battalion Field Hospital. High Point Museum, 1859 East Lexington Avenue, High Point. (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Private Client Group Alex Sigmon Branch Manager 806 Green Valley Rd. Greensboro, NC 27408 Phone: 336-545-7100 www.wellsfargoadvisors.com Investment and Insurance Products:

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June 2017

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Arts Calendar June 25 SCRIBE TRIBE. 2 p.m. Which may include a diatribe, advice, a laff riot or whatever it takes for authors to figure it all out at one of Sisters in Crime’s writers sharing circles. High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: murderwewrite.org.

Ideas that move. Join the Guilford College Bryan Series in 2017-18 as we feature inspiring speakers whose personal and professional experiences help us navigate change in a complex world.

MUSEP. It’s a twofer, with Irish tunes from Bana at 6 p.m and Americana from Martha Bassett. Hester Park, 3906 Betula Street, Greensboro. Info: musep-info. MILES TO GO. 7 p.m. It’s impossible to be kinda blue listening to Piedmont Jazz Orchestra’s tribute to Miles Davis. Carolina Theatre, 310 South Greene Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 3332605 carolinatheatre.com.

Subscriptions on sale now at bryanseries.guilford.edu

June 27 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 1 p.m. and 5 p.m. Our sources tell us this event is sold out, but maybe The Street Lawyer or The Racketeer could find a way of scoring a ticket. For either one, it would be a Time to (Make) a Kill(ing). Yup. John Grisham introduces a new thriller, Camino Island. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.

JOE AND JILL

BIDEN Sept. 17, 2017

LISA GENOVA

Neuroscientist & author

Oct. 25, 2017

REZA ASLAN

LESLIE ODOM JR.

SPECIAL PROGRAM

Nov. 15, 2017

Religion scholar

Jan. 28, 2018

EMF. 8 p.m. Eastern Musical Festival kicks off with a program of Miyagi, Foote, Poulenc and Mendelssohn, courtesy of the Eastern Chamber Players. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

Star of Hamilton

June 28

TED KOPPEL

BRANDON STANTON

Feb. 20, 2018

Apr. 10, 2018

Broadcast journalist

Humans of New York creator

Premium Season Partner

June 29 EMF. 4 p.m. Pianist Horacio Gutiérrez shows how it’s done at a free master class. Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org.

Every talk is a chance for change. What will you do with what you learn?

OH-2-3page-Biden1.indd 1

84 O.Henry

June 2017

EMF. 8 p.m. Brass rules! And has ruled for centuries. Hear for yourself at “The Glory of Brass — Baroque and Beyond.” First Presbyterian Church, 617 North Elm Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

5/8/17 4:08 PM

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Arts Calendar AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Kathryn Smith, author of Missy LeHand, FDR and the Untold Story of the Partnership that Defined a Presidency. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. EMF. 8 p.m. Violinist Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg strings audiences along with Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons, and more. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

Pam Whitaker, President

June 30 EMF. 4 p.m. Hear a master class from Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg, gratis. Sternberger Auditorium, Founders Hall, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Info: easternmusicfestival.org. EMF. 8 p.m. It’s Beethoven and Brahms for the Orchestra Gala. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 West Friendly Avenue, Greensboro. Ticktets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.

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June 30–July 1 HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. First National Bank Field, 408 Bellemeade Street, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 2682255 or www.milb.com.

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

June 2017

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Arts Calendar Tuesdays

Wednesdays

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

TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 8 a.m. until 1 p.m. The produce will be fresh and the cut fleurs belles at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.

PINT-SIZED GARDENERS. 3:30 p.m. Instill a love of gardening and growing, edible things in your kiddies at Little Sprouts (ages 3 to 5 years). No session on 5/30. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. To register: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com.

TUESDAYS Pint-sized Gardeners

PICKIN’ AND GRINNIN’ 6 until 9 p.m. Y’all come for Songs from a Southern Kitchen at Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen. 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/greensboro_music.htm.

CREATIVE KIN. 5 to 7 p.m. Moms, dads, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins: Enjoy a free evening of artistic expression at ArtQuest. GreenHill, 200 North Davie Street, Greensboro. Info: 336) 333-7460 greenhillnc.org. 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

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86 O.Henry

June 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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

Thursdays TWICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Preschool Storytime convenes for children ages 3–5. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 North Main Street, High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com. ALL THAT JAZZ. 5:30 until 8 p.m. Hear live, local jazz featuring Dave Fox Neill Clegg and Matt Kendrick and special guests: April Talbott (6/1); Ken Kennedy (6/8); Kathy Gelb (6/15); Jessica Mashburn (6/22); Diana Tuffin (6/29). 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.

Enhancing

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.

your hard work.

Fridays

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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. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

You ... only better. Now in two locations, we offer a comprehensive list of services. 1002 N. Church St., Suite 101 Greensboro, NC 27410 250 Executive Park Blvd., Suite 105 Winston-Salem, NC 27103 Check our events & specials at RestorationMedSpa.com

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336.999.8295 June 2017

O.Henry 87

Arts Calendar THRICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Hear a good yarn at Children’s Storytime. Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. JAZZ ENCORE. 6:30 p.m. Hear contemporary jazz cats, Anne-Claire Niver (6/3); Brenda Morie, (6/17); Dr. John Henry (6/24) and enjoy seasonal tapas at O.Henry Jazz series for Select Saturdays. O.Henry Hotel, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 854-2000 or ohenryhotel.com. IMPROV COMEDY. 10 p.m. on Saturday, plus an 8 p.m. show appropriate for the whole family. The Idiot Boxers create scenes on the spot and build upon the ideas of others, creating shows that are one-of-a-kind — at the Idiot Box, 2134 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 2742699 or idiotboxers.com.

Sundays HALF FOR HALF-PINTS. 1 p.m. And grownups, too. A $4 admission, as opposed to the usual $8, will allow you entry to exhibits and more. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 North Church Street, Greensboro. Info: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com. MISSING YOUR GRANDMA? 3 p.m. Until it’s gone, tuck into Chef Felicia’s skillet-fried chicken, and mop that cornbread in, your choice, giblet gravy or potlikker. Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen, 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/fried_chicken.htm.

To add an event, email us at

ohenrymagcalendar@gmail.com

by the first of the month prior to the event.

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June 2017

Melissa Westall, Au.D.

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*Lyric is water resistant, not waterproof, and should not be completely submerged under water. **Individual replacement needs may vary. Duration of device battery life varies by patient and is subject to individual ear conditions. Lyric is not appropriate for all patients. See a Lyric Provider to determine if Lyric is right for you. Lyric, Distributed by Phonak, LLC ©2017. All rights reserved. MS050528

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Two days of learning, networking and industry collaboration for manufacturing professionals. ncmep.org/mfgcon

Save the Date We’re excited to announce the date and location of mfgCON 2017. The event will take place September 19–20 at the Benton Convention Center in WinstonSalem, NC. This year’s agenda will be packed with breakthrough moments and inspiring stories from peer organizations that can help you tackle your toughest manufacturing challenges.

Why Attend?

REGISTRATION IS OPEN Go to https://www.ncmep.org/ to register for mfgCON 2017!

The conference offers a specialized manufacturing curriculum with more than 24 highly curated sessions featuring expert speakers and real-world case studies from your fellow NCMEP colleagues, plus four keynote presentations.

What’s New? This year, we are adding a Meet-the-Experts program. Conference attendees can schedule and meet oneon-one with top NCMEP subject matter experts to discuss strategies/issues related to the manufacturing environment. Get access to the brains behind our solutions and services.

Curriculum This year’s tracks focus on solutions in four key areas: Talent Development, Emerging Technologies and Innovation, Leadership and Culture, and Business Growth.

shops • service • food • farms

support locally owned businesses

Triad Local First has hit the road!

Hop on the“Triple T”Express and let us transport you to some of the Triad’s most unique food destinations. You will savor a specially curated culinary experience at one of our favorite, locally-owned restaurants or backstreet gems!

Triad Touring Tasters has launched! For tickets to our next event visit:

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Where You’re Always Greeted with a Friendly Smile Your partner in healthcare since 1967.

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Bringing you the latest in fashion trends for all facets of your life, whether it’s work, play, formal, casual or just plain stylin’!

Simply Meg’s Savvy Style. Purely PerSonal.

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June 2017

The Shops at Friendly Center 3334-123 W. Friendly Ave. Greensboro, NC 27410 P: 336.272.2555 www.simplymegs.com

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.

shops • service • food • farms

support locally owned businesses

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. -Sterling Kelly, CEO Burkely Communities

Art openings

the second Friday of each month featuring original art from local and regional artists.

Irving Park Art &Frame

2105-A West Cornwallis Drive • Greensboro, NC

Visit

| 336.274.6717

➛

online @ www.ohenrymag.com

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.

June 2017

O.Henry 91

shops • service • food • farms

You want pants? We got pants.

support locally owned businesses

We stock over 500 pair of pants

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support locally owned businesses

School of Fish Collection

Greensboro's Locally Owned Kitchen Store since 1985

Friendly Shopping Center, Greensboro, NC

92 O.Henry

June 2017

1-800-528-3618

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www.extraingredient.com

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

MJ-3591 House of Eyes Print Ad.indd 1

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10/25/16 3:24 PM

June 2017

O.Henry 93

Business & Services

it’s about Communities, Families and Homes. January 1 – July 15 by mail with purchase of select Kitchenaid brand appliances.

M. Gaines LeGare

NMLS# 198806 • Area Manager 5 A OAk BrAnch Drive, GreensBOrO, nc 27407

Office:336.663.0778 cell:336.213.3186 www.GatewayLoan.com/gaines-legare

336-854-9222 • www.HartApplianceCenter.com We Service What We Sell & Offer Personal Attention 2201 Patterson Street, Greensboro, NC • (2 Blocks from the Coliseum) Mon. - Fri.: 9:30am - 5:30 pm • Sat. 10 am - 2 pm • Closed Sunday

Gateway Mortgage Group is a registered service mark of Gateway Mortgage Group, llc nMls 7233. Greensboro Branch: 5 A Oak Branch Drive, Greensboro, nc 27407

English Riding Apparel and Equipment 5549 W. Market St. Greensboro, NC 27409 336.852.0906 horseandrider@bellsouth.net

RELAX

hAppy & hEALthy is ouR businEss

Monday-Friday 10-5:30 • Saturday 10-4:00 • Sunday Closed

Practicing Commercial Real Estate by the Golden Rule Bill Strickland, CCIM Commercial Real Estate Broker/REALTOR

1052 Grecade St. • GreenSboro, nc 27408

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www.bipinc.com 94 O.Henry

June 2017

336.897.1505

dr. Janine M. oliver

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

explore new heights NEW Outdoor play plaza

complete with two European-imported 30-foot-tall Neptune XXL Climbers and a 25-foot suspended net tunnel - the only one of its kind in the world!

Downtown Greensboro • 220 North Church Street • 336.574.2898 www.gcmuseum.com

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96 O.Henry

June 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

D O W N TO W N G R E E N S B O R O.O R G

Be sure to maintain your status by treating Dad to a delicious Cheesecakes by Alex cheesecake for Father’s Day. With flavors like Key Lime, Chocolate Turtle and Peanut Butter Cup, what’s not to love?

modern furniture made locally

New Hours • New YarNs • New Classes 231 S Elm StrEEt, GrEEnSboro nC 27401 • 336-370-1233 Tuesday thru Saturday • 10am-7Pm

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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D O W N TO W N G R E E N S B O R O.O R G

June 2017

O.Henry 97

Come find out why we are where your dog wants to be!

Visit



online @ www.ohenrymag.com

➛

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98 O.Henry

June 2017

BILL GUILL 336.549.0410

CECIL LOCKHART 336.402.6677 The Art & Soul of Greensboro

M A R ION Tile & Flooring

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Products Porcelain & Ceramic Tile • Marble & Granite • Cork Brick & Stone • Hardwood • Luxury Vinyl Tile • Carpet

services

Bathroom Remodeling • Kitchen floors & Backsplashes Tile Repairs & Cleaning Service • Complete installation service by qualified craftsmen Monday-Friday 9am-5pm 4719 Pleasant Garden Road, Pleasant Garden 336-674-8839 | www.mariontile.com

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boutique 8 0 9 Green Valley road Sui te 10 1 3 3 6 -9 4 4 -5 3 3 5 T u e s- F r i • 10 - 6 | saT • 10 -3

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

June 2017

O.Henry 99

Red and Green

Acrylic on Cavnas

11”x14”

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WED. JUNE 21, 2017 | 5:30– 8:30 PM | THE GALLERY AT GREENHILL FREE & OPEN TO THE PUBIC. CASH BAR.

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100 O.Henry

June 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Discover @ Music’s Finest

Explore the best of classical music. Engage in one of the nation’s premier summer musical festivals. Experience EMF’s 56th season!

Violinist Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg Returns! Thursday, June 29 | Dana Auditorium | Guilford College

Beethoven and Brahms – Season Opening Orchestral Celebration Friday, June 30 | Dana Auditorium | Guilford College The Joseph M. Bryan, Jr. Festival Orchestra Series Saturdays, July 1 - 29 | Dana Auditorium | Guilford College

C.P. LOGAN

Classes, Commissions, Party Classes

Arts & Culture

The Glory of Brass – Baroque and Beyond Wednesday, June 28 | First Presbyterian Church | Greensboro

online Classes

www. CPLogan.com

SA VE TH E

S IN EAR RO 30 YENSBO E R G

One Night • One House

ATI LEBR

SUMMER BASH

Pianist William Wolfram in Recital Wednesday, July 5 | Recital Hall | UNCG Opera Celebration: Shave and a Haircut Wednesday, July 12 | Temple Emanuel

HABITAT GREENSBORO’S

The Mile-End Trio Wednesday, July 19 | Dana Auditorium | Guilford College Young Artists Orchestra Series Thursdays and Fridays, July 6-28 | Led by resident conductors Grant Cooper and José-Luis Novo

summerfield farms August 25, 2017 • 7 P.M. until 11 P.M. at

Open House July 23 | Guilford College Guitar Summit Wednesday, July 26 | Temple Emanuel Young Artist Concerto Competition Winners Thursday, July 27 | Dana Auditorium

For Sponsorship Information Contact: Daintry O’Brien • 336.232-0134 or dobrien@hhgg.org

For details, visit http://www.EasternMusicFestival.org/festival/calendar

Tickets on sale now!

Visit www.HabitatGreensboro.org to learn more about this event.

Triad Stage Box Office: 336-272-0160 | www.triadstage.org

www.EasternMusicFestival.org All programs, dates, artists, venues, and prices are subject to change.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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June 2017

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June 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

GreenScene

Kelly, Ethan & Brandon Wells

Bristol Schneider, Hayden Grover

Classics Day

UNCG Classical Society Saturday, April 1, 2017

Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Eric, Sameera & Tara Kenney

Eric Figueroa, Elijah Mears, Amanda Wils Haleigh Evans, Marissa Sarver, Maddie Parrish, Megan Leonard, Allison Scrmarini Ryan & Alex Porter

David Alexander, Haleigh Evans

Maggie Leone, Coltrane Beck-Chance

Robin LeBlanc, Carol Xiao Zachary Rooks, Elizabeth Moran

Johnica Daniels, Jonathan Zarecki

Brooke Rockof, Brandi Mauldin

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

June 2017

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Savor the spirit of the Triad

Thoughtful essays by award-winning writers and photographers on every aspect of life – from exploring local landmarks to intimate tours of the region’s most memorable gardens, from revealing the finest craftsmen and artisans to celebrating the vibrant culinary scenes of our chosen homeplaces – Seasons will also offer practical information on summer events not to be missed, best bets and hidden gems.

AVAILABLE AT THE FOLLOWING LOCATIONS 1618 Midtown • New Garden Nursery • Randy McManus Design • Shores Fine Dry Cleaners Willam Mangum Gallery • Grandover Resort • Harris Teeter • Barnes & Noble • Brown Gardiner Drug Store Carrige House Antiques • Cultrural Arts Center • Greensboro Historical Museum Greensboro Central Library • State Street Jewerly • O. Henry Hotel • Proximity Hotel • Red Collection Schiffman’s • Tex & Shirley’s • Weatherspoon Art Museum • Whole Foods

GreenScene

Joretta & Bob Klepfer

Touring Theatre of NC 35th Anniversary Party

The Memory of All That: A Cabaret of Gershwin Songs Friday, April 21, 2017 Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Trey Riley, Roxy Roessing, Jimmy Tunstall, Jim Langer, Sonya Brown, John Henry

Alex Albritton, Marcella Elliott Kathleen Whitmore, Brenda & Anna Schleunes

Donna Bradby, Emily Ragsdale

Elyah Alexander, Carla Lyman, Nick Schaeffer

Mike Wilson, Herb Baum

Marcella Elliott, Kathleen Webster, Asha Duniani Donna Fairfield, Emily Ragsdale, Sue Starr

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Donna Bradby, Brenda Schleunes, Allen Broach

Bob Weston, Camilla Millican Robin & John Davis

June 2017

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Irving Park

NOTHING GOES LIKE

beaches & bows! 336.275.1555

1724 Battleground Ave. Suite 104 Greensboro, NC 27408

Clothing, Accessories lAdIeS ClothING, GIftS, BABy, jewelry, GIftS for the home, tABlewAre, delICIouS food

1738 Battleground Ave • Irving Park Plaza Shopping Center • Greensboro, NC • (336) 273-3566

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June 2017

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

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

GreenScene

Barruch & Angela Ben-Zekry

Alan & Lovelle Overby

Love Is All You Need

The Salvation Army â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Signature Event Thursday, April 20, 2017 Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Beth Pobanz, Tony Furr, Jen Middleton, Brandon Rothfuss

Donna & Cedric Blue

Nancy King Quaintance, Chip Hagan Chris Carlson, Tim Blackwell, Jennifer Poindexter, Monti & Susie Allen Rachel, Phillip & Jane Gibbs

Leroy Wilson, Faye & James Lawson

Brian & Shelly Stark

Lea & Flemming Johnson

Steve & Claire Waiksnoris

Lauren Davis, Kelly Roberts

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

June 2017

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GreenScene

Mary Sears-Truslow & Will Truslow

Helen & Frank Houston

Belle Meade Society Spring Event

The Search for Blackbeard’s Queen Anne’s Revenge Greensboro History Museum Monday, April 24, 2017 Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Will Truslow, Dr. Lindley Butler, Bill Moore

Sudie AndersonWhite, Julie Copeland

Sam & Anne Hummel, Bill Hummel, Bill White

Chris Carlson, Jennifer Poindexter Sara & Tom Sears

David & Helen Harling Gayle Fripp, Carol Hart

Rose Marie Ponton, Jane Moore

108 O.Henry

June 2017

Cham Edmiston, Bill White

Terry Fripp, Frank Houston

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

3 Chesterfield C ourt Charming brick home on the second fairway of Greensboro Country Club Farm Golf Course. 3 Bedrooms, 2.5 Baths. Great Room and large raised Patio overlooking the golf course. Master Suite with his & her sinks, custom cabinets & large closet. Plantation shutters, 2 upper Bedrooms & bath. Attached carport.

3 elm ridge Formal, yet comfortable and refined. The art of living well is evident in this enchanting spot with cul-de-sac location and secluded gardens and pond. Master Bedroom on main level with custom Master Bath and closet. All Bedrooms have their own Bath. Room for expansion - Upstairs unfinished space. Excellent home for family and entertaining. A one-of-a-kind home to enjoy!

6 g r e y oa k s C i r C l e Classic brick Georgian style home in Flemish Bond style is just the beginning of the quality and style of this home. Master Bedroom on main level. High ceilings on both levels. Hardwood floors, custom moldings, large, open halls. 3 car garage. Lots of floored storage, additional space can be completed (unfinished). Covered Porch, slate Patio & much, much more!

Chesnutt - Tisdale Team Xan Tisdale 336-601-2337

Kay Chesnutt 336-202-9687

Xan.Tisdale@bhhsyostandlittle.com Kay.Chesnutt@bhhsyostandlittle.com ©2017 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.

Golden Gate Shopping Center

Lee Andersen Parsley and Sage Habitat Chalet Comfy USA Alembika Grizas

Sizes: 1X, 2X, & 3X

Vera’s Threads Sizes: S,M, L & XL

336-288-8772

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

www.linneasboutique.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Carriage House Antiques & Home Decor 336.373.6200

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

June 2017

Photo: Daniel Stone

336-545-3003

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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

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

The Accidental Astrologer

Double Vision

There’s never a dull moment when Gemini is in the house By Astrid Stellanova

Donald Trump, Kanye West, Marilyn Monroe, John F. Kennedy,

Prince, Joan Rivers, Johnny Depp, Anderson Cooper, Morgan Freeman, Nicole Kidman. What do these famous names have in common besides fame? First and foremost, their sun sign, Gemini. Star children, just try and imagine these Geminis in the same room. If the universe doesn’t have a sense of humor, then pray tell, what is at work here?—Ad Astra, Astrid Gemini (May 21–June 20) Warm to your gal pals, challenging to your male pals, heck — challenging period. That is what everyone knows runs deep inside your Gemini spirit. You have backbone, which is true. That back can get up, too, when someone gives you grief. You are many things, but never dull. This birthday may wind up being one of your favorites, because you have command of a stage and a chance to vent your anger. You’ve been as hopped up as a mule chewin’ on bumblebees over a friend’s actions. They want to make up. Let them. Show them your generosity can be as deep as your considerable wounded pride. Cancer (June 21–July 22) You uncovered something you didn’t much like. Things went catawampus when someone you trusted was caught lyin’ like a no-legged dog! It will make you more cautious, which is a good thing. Now, watch how they prove themselves in the future. Translation: Time for them to actually prove themselves to you, and for you to insist upon it. Leo (July 23–August 22) You face a challenge and tend to rely upon an old ally. The problem is, your ally is so dumb, they could throw themselves on the ground and miss it. They just don’t understand the consequences of their lack of judgment. You, Child, do. Give them your guidance, and if they fail, show them how to hit the ground and roll. Virgo (August 23–September 22) Well, Sugar, you sure put the right person in charge of handling the money. He squeezes a quarter so tight the eagle screams. Thanks to reforming your once thoughtless money sense, you can afford a splurge. Take the opportunity to let loose and be generous with yourself. Also, let loose in another way that’s completely free — smile! Libra (September 23–October 22) Someone in authority is making you half-crazy. Time is here, Sweet Thing, for you to draw a hard red line with this person and stop the crazy-making. Don’t let them pee on your leg and tell you it’s raining! By the end of June, you will discover something you dug up. This hard digging may lead you to a much bigger discovery. Scorpio (October 23–November 21) Needlepoint this onto a pillow: “Excuses are like behinds. Everybody’s got one and they all stink.” There was a time when you didn’t take time to offer up excuses. That is your truer self. When you own up to your role in a stinky situation, you can turn it around and find release. Truth works better than Odor-Eaters.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Sagittarius (November 22–December 21) You weren’t wrong. We just misunderstood what you figured out way ahead of the rest of us. Well, slap my head and call me silly! Now that you have all the information, calculate what it will take to buy yourself a pack of nabs and an orange soda, then call your broker. Your hunches are right on the money. Capricorn (December 22–January 19) Darling, there’s a Southern riddle that goes like this: Is a pig’s rump made of pork? Well, Honey Bunny, that’s rhetorical. There is no answer, because the answer is obvious. Now something just as obvious is staring you right in the face. Turn this moment into what you need to march forward and onward and make barbecue. Aquarius (January 20–February 18) She’s so pretty she could make a hound dog smile. He’s so pretty he could make it smile again. That’s said of you and your circle of good-lookin’ Aquarian friends. You’ve taken your kindnesses into your personality in such a big way that you wear it on your fine faces. You make every one of your circle glad to be in your orbit. Pisces (February 19–March 20) There’s a very sweet someone who wants to hitch a ride on your happy train because he senses you have a good sense of direction. If leather were brains, he wouldn’t have enough to saddle a June bug. All that said, you may feel a sense of loyalty to him just because he is polite and says “please” and “thank you.” Aries (March 21–April 19) Lately, you have pretty much said “yes” to everything. Sugar Pie, if promises were persimmons, the possums could eat good at your place. This is a reality check for you. If you don’t face up to the music, you could wind up in the orchestra with a baton in your hand and no musicians. Stop all the mania and drop the baton long enough to direct your own life. Taurus (April 20–May 20) Deep in the South, where sushi is still called bait, you have been doing some things nobody around you quite understands. You have been going a little overboard with your need to make a big impression. Like, for example, buying a mystery box at the auction when the rent was due. Take the auction paddle out of the air. 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.

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O.Henry Ending

Sunday Lessons

By K athleen Causey

The black cat clock

sat directly above the living room chair where my grandmother wove the rag rugs she sold all over the country. Its large eyes clicked back and forth in time with the swishing tail, mesmerizing my little sister with its quirkiness. I watched my grandmother’s hands, bent in strange ways from my own, twisting the multi-colored satin blanket binding with amazing speed and spinning tales in a soft voice without dropping a stitch.

Hattie Mae Cochran wasn’t my blood relative. I inherited her at age 7 when my mother married her son. This would be my mother’s third marriage and his as well. The union brought a boatload of half-brothers and stepsisters, and it was never comfortable explaining the relationships of our family. The best part of the deal was inheriting Grandma Cochran. She didn’t have her mother’s Cherokee dark looks, but was fair-haired, light skinned and small in stature, with the patience to explain why her strong-minded son demanded so much from his children. After church on Sunday our extended family met at Grandma’s house. We would stop and pick up the bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and she would have the veggies ready, covered and sitting in their bowls on the back of the stove. In the summers, we followed her down the garden rows helping to hold the basket as she picked ripened tomatoes and cukes for our lunch. In the winters when it was too chilly to play outside, I would squeeze in at her feet with my siblings and cousins in her tiny living room and hear the stories of her life — how they built their cabin too close to a rattlesnake den in Wilkes County

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and the snakes would try to crawl up through the cracks in the floor in the winter; how, come spring, they moved the cabin farther up the ridge; how they used newspaper to fill the cracks to stop the freezing wind from blowing through. Her fingers stopped only to hand us a needle to thread as she filled our imaginations. My stepfather, with his Elvis Presley good looks, ran a strict house, demanding perfection and routine, and never spared the rod. Grandma was my savior. I spent weekends with her, bravely following her down into the cellar with my arms filled with Mason jars as she used a stick to clear the spider webs away from our path. She taught me how to make bread and butter pickles; how to put up beans; how to use my fingers to cut in the butter to make biscuits; how to make a flaky crust for her wonderful lemon meringue pie. Grandma made lacy, intricate doilies; crocheted afghans and quilted like a magician. On special weekends, she allowed me to hunt through her private quilt collection she kept in the closet of the guest room. One hangs on a ladder rung in my dining room. The circles of material were from colorful scraps of dresses and shirts. It took months to finish and she couldn’t bear to sell it, or give it away until it became mine. I overheard my parents say that the year my Grandma gives up her garden will be her last. When that spring came and she said she wouldn’t be planting, my heart was heavy with the grief of what was to be. I am a grandmother now, and though this woman has long left this world, her voice is with me. She is there with each pie crust I make, with each tomato I pick, with each stitch I sew. As summer comes and the earth starts to warm, I look at my own hands and how they are changing with time, and I hope one day my granddaughters will sit and ask why my fingers are crooked and bent; and perhaps they will listen patiently as the tail of the clock swishes and the eyes click back and forth. OH Kathleen Causey lives and golfs in Seven Lakes, North Carolina, volunteers at the Sandhills Woman’s Exchange, and knows way more about cyber security than your average grandmother. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

PHOTOGRAPH PROVIDED BY KATHLEEN CAUSEY

In the loving hands of a remarkable grandmother

Blakeney

LOCATED IN THE DESIRABLE LAKE JEANETTE AREA

at Old Irving Park

A new branch of the Old Irving Park subdivision has given the community a fresh look.

the farm at lake brandt

Spacious, Private Homesites to Build Your Forever Home When you picture your dream home, does it lay among the rolling hills of the countryside? Do you dream of wide open fields and farmland along the shores of a serene lake? That is just the sort of natural beauty you will find at THE FARM AT LAKE BRANDT. A stunning new neighborhood for luxury, custom-built homes starting from the high $400’s is developing right now in northern Greensboro.

BETHANY AT LAKE JEANETTE offers the benefits of country life in close proximity to city conveniences. As you drive into the neighborhood beside the long brick wall at

The desirable Lake Brandt area is an ideal setting to build your dream home and raise a family, where the peace and beauty of the country meet the convenience of the city.

the entrance, you leave the noise and rush of the city behind and enter the peaceful quiet of Bethany. You pull into the driveway of your own beautiful custom-built home in Greensboro and leave the stress of daily life outside. But the city is still close by when you are ready to venture out again. It’s easy to pick up groceries, grab a meal out, run your errands, or do some shopping. Bethany is the ideal location to build your dream home and live your dream life.

Luxury homes for sale in Greensboro are being built by D. Stone Builders — stunning townhomes with state-of-the-art designs and the latest features. Located off the corner of N. Elm Street and Cornwallis Drive, the maintenance-free living and convenient location makes Blakeney at Old Irving Park a highly desired area. Along with Old Irving Park, Blakeney is close at hand to Greensboro Country Club, meaning you can enjoy the country club lifestyle right at home.

Just minutes from downtown Greensboro, you have access to all the city has to offer.

BETTY SMITH: 336.451.4923 betty.smith@allentate.com

JEFF SMITH: 336.215.7880 jeff.smith@allentate.com

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