January O.Henry 2025

New memories to make. New experiences to share.

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January 2025

45 Still

46 Look

54 The

60 A

68 January

DEPARTMENTS

Volume 15, No. 1

“I have a fancy that every city has a voice.” www.ohenrymag.com

PUBLISHER David Woronoff david@thepilot.com

Andie Rose, Creative Director andiesouthernpines@gmail.com

Cassie Bustamante, Editor cassie@ohenrymag.com

Jim Dodson, Editor at Large jwdauthor@gmail.com

Keith Borshak, Senior Designer

CONTRIBUTING EDITORS

Cynthia Adams, David Claude Bailey, Maria Johnson

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Anna Peeples, Bert VanderVeen, Mark Wagoner

CONTRIBUTORS

Harry Blair, Anne Blythe, Susan Campbell, Jasmine Comer, Woody Faulkner, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Tom Maxwell, Gerry O’Neill, Liza Roberts, Stephen E. Smith, Zora Stellanova, Ashley Walshe, Amberly Glitz Weber

ADVERTISING SALES

Lisa Allen

336.210.6921 • lisa@ohenrymag.com

Amy Grove

336.456.0827 • amy@ohenrymag.com

Brad Beard, Graphic Designer

Jennifer Bunting, Advertising Coordinator ohenrymag@ohenrymag.com

Henry Hogan, Finance Director 910.693.2497

Darlene Stark, Subscriptions & Circulation Director 910.693.2488

OWNERS

Jack Andrews, Frank Daniels III, David Woronoff

In memoriam Frank Daniels Jr.

And finding the audacity to do it

By Cassie Bustama Nte

While I think that the best guiding light in life is trusting your own intuition, I’m always looking to others to show me what’s possible. When I was a child, Miss Piggy was my idol. Strong, ambitious, witty, fashionable and — though some may say it was just lipstick on a pig — she was beautiful. My mom even stitched an image of her that adorned my bedroom wall and read, “My beauty is my curse.” No, she wasn’t a traditional looker, but she held her own with confidence.

When I started dipping my brush into the DIY world, I discovered designer Dorothy Draper. And I might be the first person to compare her to a Muppet, but Draper seemed to march with certainty to her own beat, too. Though Draper died in 1969, five years before Miss Piggy’s snout ever graced American television sets, I am sure she’d have been a fan. They’re both what kids today would call “extra.”

Born into wealth in 1889 New York, Draper drew from a world of historic design styles that she had at her fingertips and unapologetically made her own. Her iconic style, which she coined “Modern Baroque,” features bold color, audacious mixing of loud patterns and plaster architectural flourishes rarely repeated today. Everything was over the top — and yet it worked. Draper once pronounced, “I believe in doing the thing you feel is right. If it looks right, it is right.” Her trademark aesthetic prevailed because she trusted her intuition. Blazing a

trail for others, she became the very first commercial interior designer. Her work can still be appreciated today at some elaborate and expansive hotels that remain almost exactly as she designed them.

Last year, I was invited as a media guest — among a couple hundred attendees total — to the Dorothy Draper Design Weekend held annually at The Greenbrier, the iconic resort in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia, just a few hours north of Greensboro. Draper took on the design of The Greenbrier in 1946.

And, in the late 1950s, “Mr. Color,” Carleton Varney, joined her company, became her protegé and eventually bought Dorothy Draper Design Co. in the late ’60s. He passed away in 2022, but his sons, Sebastian and Nicholas, are keeping the brand’s — and their father’s — legacy alive. In fact, the company celebrates its centennial anniversary this year.

As someone who had long admired Draper’s work, especially her iconic España chest, I was thrilled to take in her daring design with my own two eyes.

My guest room enveloped me in greens: minty walls, a tonal checkered carpet, a green-and-pink quilt featuring roses and — my favorite part — emerald Francie & Grover fabric, named after Carleton Varney’s dogs.

For the first official weekend event, I hopped on a shuttle over to the on-site upholstery workshop, where seamstresses and upholsterers worked on vintage hotel furnishings and whipped up draperies. Bolts upon bolts of fabric lined large tables as well as the walls, organized by color. High upon a shelf, I spied a tattered Easter Bunny head, once part of a costume. I asked one of the upholsterers about it and he said it had come

to the shop years ago for repairs, but a new costume was ordered instead. So instead of ending up at the local dump, there sat the shell of a rabbit head, staring blankly at the workers. Draper did once say, “I always love a controversial item. It makes people talk.”

The rest of the weekend was a whirl of creative, hands-on activity. Rudy Saunders, the company’s design director, led a session on pattern mixing. The hotel’s florist taught an arrangement workshop. We toured the entire property. As someone who actually prefers warm neutrals, I was in awe of the onsite chapel, an archaic structure of white with rustic wooden beams, flooring and pews. Its spartan features allowed the vibrant stained-glass windows to, well, shine. Second to that, I was floored by — wait for it — the Victorian writing room. Dark, moody walls paired with a vibrant red carpet, a convex Federal mirror above an elaborately carved marble fireplace? A girl could write in there.

And North Carolina author Joy Callaway agrees. In fact, she was inspired by the hotel itself to pen The Grand Design, a historical-fictional novel about Draper’s life and work at The Greenbrier. Calloway, who has written several novels, both romance and historical fiction, gave a talk over the weekend about her book and what fuels her creativity. Like Draper did for so many decorators, Calloway did for me — I could catch a glimmer of my own future in her.

I don’t have a crystal ball to know what lies ahead, of course. But I can look to the trailblazers who have climbed to the summit, turned around and shone their torch on the path ahead for me and others. And I know, with certainty, that I can trust my inner voice. Like Draper — and with the confidence of a certain refined swine — I will keep doing the thing that I feel is right. OH

Cassie Bustamante is editor of O.Henry magazine.

The Art of Living

With two top national awards as culinary artists, Executive Chef Jolie Shafer and Director of Dining Arts Erin Perkins bring creativity and variety to every meal at Arbor Acres. Shafer and Perkins are excited to dazzle with a wine and caviar dinner, delight with classic fried chicken, or re-imagine a resident’s favorite recipe. Winning the highest national recognition for excellence in their industry while always putting the needs—and taste buds—of our residents first, Jolie Shafer and Erin Perkins exemplify The Art of Living.

Executive Chef Jolie Shafer and Director of Dining Arts Erin Perkins

By Jim DoDsoN

The Island Baby

A tale of the most perfect storm

January is a special month in our family. That’s because three members of our scattered tribe are January babies. It could have been four if I hadn’t missed my due date by two days and wound up being a February groundhog.

My late father’s birthday is the 18th and my mother’s the 24th. But our oldest child’s birthday on the 28th holds the true winter magic.

Back in September 1990, as we lay in bed looking up at the stars through the skylight on our first night in the house on Bailey Island, my first wife, Alison, said quietly, “Let me have your hand.”

She placed it on her belly, and, sure enough, for the first time ever, I felt something flutter, soft as a hummingbird.

“That’s him,” I whispered in awe.

“Or her,” she said.

Friends were concerned when we told them we planned to move to an island off the Maine coast for the winter while beginning construction of our house on the mainland.

In good weather, they pointed out, the hospital was a good 45-minute drive away — across two adjoining islands, over three narrow bridges and through three tiny villages. In bad winter weather, the trip had been known to take hours.

From Labor Day to June, only about 300 souls inhabited the

durable rock island where we set up housekeeping in a fine cottage, which provided us with a 20-mile view of the coast. Within days of our arrival — news spreads fast on a small island — we’d met the folks who ran the community store, the postmistress, several lobstermen and a chatty gentleman named Bob, sort of the island’s de facto mayor and charge d’affaires of information and snowplowing.

“When the snow flies, the drifts can get pretty wicked out here,” he explained, and turned pale when we mentioned we were in the family way — due in early February. “I’m awfully glad you told me,” he said seriously. “We’ll keep an eye on you.”

A few days later, a lady at the store slipped me a scrap of paper with a phone number and said, “I heard about your situation. Call anytime if you need to — Herman’s got four-wheel drive.” Not long after that, one of the local lobsterman pulled me aside and said, “I’ve got a boat that’ll chew through anything. Just give a holler.”

Such nice folks, those island souls.

While we settled in to wait for the baby, they prepared for winter snow, fixing drafts, hooking up plows, topping up the woodpile and getting buckets of sand ready. I realized how much the mariners loved the drama of winter storms. Hard weather makes good timber, as they say in the north country.

There was a dusting of snow two days before Christmas, followed by wind, arctic cold and nothing more. While the islanders scanned the skies for telltale flakes, we scanned a baby book for boy names. Everyone — I mean everyone — was certain we were going to have a boy, including yours truly.

“How about Herman,” I suggested.

Alison laughed. “You mean after the four-wheel guy?”

“More as in Melville, the great white-whale guy.”

Given our location, I suggested other strong nautical names, including Noah, Davy Jones, Billy Budd and Horatio Hornblower — “Hank” for short.

Alison merely smiled and shook her head. Other family members chipped in several male family names.

As the winter deepened and the delivery day approached, only my wife and my dad believed the baby would be a girl.

In the meantime, the islanders grew visibly tense from the absence of snow. Snowplows sat idle; the boys around the stove grumbled over their morning coffee at the community store.

It turned out, in fact, to be the unsnowiest winter on the island in a century. Just our luck. Poor islanders. By early January you could feel their desperation to push snow and fling sand. A few days before the month's end, Alison joked that our baby would arrive with a snowstorm.

Her mouth to God’s ear.

That Friday night, as we were dining at our favorite restaurant in town, it began to snow like mad. Mainers live for the winter’s first good snow. You could see the relief in their faces. “Better late than never,” our waitress cheerfully declared as she delivered dessert. “Hate to waste my new snow tires!”

Moments later, Alison’s water broke. We left our dessert behind

and went straight to the hospital down the block.

The delivery doctor said we still had several hours to go. So, as mother and baby settled in, I drove out to the island to get some clothes and feed the dog. By the time I got there, a blizzard was in full force and even my four-wheel Blazer had difficulty navigating our unplowed lane.

It took another two hours to get off the island, over the bridges and back to the hospital. By the time I climbed the final hill into town, the snow had stopped and a brilliant sunrise bathed a silent white world in golden light. It was a sight I’ll never forget.

I got to my wife’s side 10 minutes before the baby arrived.

The next afternoon, we brought our newborn home, bundled up like an Eskimo baby. The snow was so deep, we had to park at the community store and slide down the hill on our rumps to our cottage doorstep.

Stamping around, folks on the island were downright giddy. Bob was deeply relieved. Snowplows roared and news of the birth quickly spread.

Everyone who peeked at our new arrival wanted to know what we named our sweet island lad.

“Margaret Sinclair,” I proudly told them.“Maggie for short — after both of her grandmothers.” OH

Jim Dodson is the founding editor of O.Henry. Find his weekly writings and musings at jwdauthor.substack.com.

Sazerac

"A

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

Letters

In response to our August 2024 Unsolicited Advice regarding handwriting, Elaine Schenot penned this letter:

the Past

We’re not just blowing smoke out of the stacks, the O.Henry office has moved to Revolution Mill, seen here in the late-’40s.

Sage Gardener

Visiting my daughter in Spain, standing in a market surrounded by gloriously red peppers and the ripest of tomatoes, I suddenly saw “a dirty, knobby, alien-looking root,” as one food writer de scribes it: Apium graveolens celeriac. A cousin of celery, fennel, carrots and parsnips, this bulbous, bumpy orb is my wife’s absolute favorite root vegetable, although I’ve often pointed out to her that celeriac is not a root but a hypocotyl. She counters, “Say that three times.”

The hypocotyl, according to my dictionary, is that part of the stem beneath the stalks of the leaves and directly above the root. So, on that balmy Spanish evening we had hypocotyl remoulade, a classic French dish that Anne first discovered in a Paris automat. She chose what she thought was slaw; instead, she discovered something sublime. Since then, she’s been on a long journey — completely unsuccessful — of trying to grow celeriac. “One English gardener says ‘Celeriac is easy to grow,’” I tell her.“‘Hardier and more disease-resistant than celery.’” Says Anne, “You’ll recall that we’ve never been able to grow celery.”

a hypocotyl feast about the size of a black walnut. The following year was no better, so nowadays Anne resignedly buys them wherever she can get them, most reliably at

Among the oldest of “root” vegetables, celeriac was painstakingly cultivated, not for its stalks like celery, but for that unshapely, but oh-sotasty bulb between the stem and the squiggly,

References date back to Mycenean Linear B. Homer mentions “selinon” (the Greek word for celeriac) in both the Iliad and Odyssey. Romans and Egyptians prized celeriac for its medicinal benefits, and one writer suggests the root was also used in religious ceremonies, though, for the life of me, I can’t imagine how. By 1623, the French, naturellement, were eating them. Soon, Europeans all over the continent were julienning, grating and slicing them. Americans, not so much.

Over the years, she’s told everyone who’ll listen about ordering the seeds and putting them into grow pots, only to have not a single one come up. The next year, she decided our wood stoveheated house was too cold, so she invested in a grow mat; voila, that spring she coached three spindly seedlings out of the pots! Nursed like the first borns they were, one of them survived transplanting. Thus, we harvested our treasured, first celeriac,

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

Nevertheless, one of Martha Stewart’s acolytes proclaims that “celeriac is having a moment,” and points out that market forecasts for 2024 suggested a 42 percent increase in sales year to year. (No hoarding, please.) She quotes various celebrity chefs enthusing over the ugly bulb, celeriac puree in particular. If you like carrots, parsnips, fennel or turnips, especially combined with a comforting and slightly earthy note, you’ll likely like celeriac. Now that we’ve transitioned from our wood stove to central air, I’m hoping my favorite gardener will get out the grow mat, hatch a plethora of wee sprouts and nurse them into transplants that will, with any luck, grow into the ugliest vegetables in our garden — and on the planet. — David Claude Bailey

Thank you to all who entered our 2024 O. Henry Essay Contest, with the theme, “Furry, Feathered and Ferocious.” We put out the call — of the wild — and your stories had us laughing, crying and snuggling with our own animals a little more tightly. With so many delightful entries, our task was beastly, but we’re pleased to have chosen three engaging essays that will appear in our pages throughout this year. Without further ado, your 2024 winners:

First Place: Eric Schaefer, “Harriet”

Second Place: Karen Watts, “The Mummification of Leapy the Lizard”

Third Place: Dianne Hayter, “Questers”

We’re mixing things up for the 2025 contest with a writing challenge a bit out of the ordinary. Look for an announcement and details about our theme in our forthcoming April issue.

Unsolicited Advice

A new year is a great opportunity to take stock of the many blessings in your life and let go of the things that aren’t serving you — yes, we’re talking about your refrigerator. That cranberry relish your dad brought over to pair with your Thanksgiving turkey during the Obama administration? Toss it. The high-protein yogurt you just bought to ring in 2025 as the best version of yourself ever? Keep it. At least for now, while you’re still full of hope. But those 17 jars of mustard alone? Pare ’em down. Here’s our list of the five essential mustards every house needs. The rest can go.

1. American yellow: She’s basic. Her fav shirt reads, “Go sports!” But she’s reliable and hasn’t met a hot dog she can’t improve.

2. Dijon: She rides around in limos and speaks with an elegant British accent. Her fav show is Bridgerton, but she’s also a fan of the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries that starred Colin Firth. It’s unAmerican not to use Grey Poupon, si’l vous plaît.

3. Whole grain: This one screams, “I’ve got grit,” and hangs out in your local deli with Kosher pickles. She’s too hardworking to care if there’s anything stuck in her teeth.

4. Honey: She’s sweet and tangy. When invited to a potluck dinner, she brings warm, gooey sticky buns.

5. Spicy brown: She’s the Spice Girl (Mustard Spice, duh) that was cut from the group for being too bold and standing out. Sadly, her solo career went nowhere because she’s better when mixed with others.

Capricorn (December 22 –January 19)

Write down these words and revisit them often: Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. We all know you’re capable of scaling treacherous heights. But at what cost? Your life force is precious. When Venus enters your sign toward the end of the month, things look seriously dreamy in the romance department (rock-steady commitment paired with the warm-and-fuzzies). Here’s the catch: You’re going to have to wreck your own heart wall.

Tea leaf “fortunes” for the rest of you:

Aquarius (January 20 – February 18)

Dare you to read just for pleasure.

Pisces (February 19 – March 20)

Try googling power pose.

Aries (March 21 – April 19)

Don’t forget: A seed can lay dormant for years.

Taurus (April 20 – May 20)

Refine your spice cabinet.

Gemini (May 21 – June 20)

The system needs a reboot.

Cancer (June 21 – July 22)

Delete the app.

Leo (July 23 – August 22)

The last sip is the sweetest.

Virgo (August 23 – September 22)

It’s time to dust off the old you-know-what.

Libra (September 23 – October 22)

Conditions are ripe for cuddling.

Scorpio (October 23 – November 21)

Release what wants to go.

Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21)

Consider swapping out that lamp. OH

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

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Lovin’ Spoonfuls

How a well-known Greensboro chef changed his menu and his life

By m aria JohNsoN

January is a good time to talk about John Drees for a couple of reasons.

A freshly unwrapped year is all about new beginnings, which Drees, 60, knows something about.

Also, January is National Soup Month (sorry, Souptober), and that points to Drees in his latest incarnation as Chef Soup, boss of a small-batch business that sells frozen quarts of savory spoonfuls from The Corner Farmers Market, the open-air bazaar where, most Saturday mornings, Drees pitches his canopy in the parking lot of St. Andrews Episcopal Church in Greensboro.

If you had a really good arm, you could throw a rock from here and hit the vacant single-story building where Drees first made a name for himself in the Gate City 40 years ago. Many people fondly recall the scrumptious meals he dished out at Southern Lights Bistro on Smyres Place in Sunset Hills.

“I have a whole different perspective now,” says Drees, who looks to be permanently flushed from decades of stovetop steam baths. Surrounded by the coffee-sipping, fleece-and-jeans crowd at the market, it’s notable that he does not look pretentious in a white apron and black skull cap. He looks relaxed and well practiced. He ought to.

“I was the fool that worked seven days a week for 35 years,” he says. “You weren’t gonna outwork me. I didn’t know better at the time.”

A native of Greensboro, Drees popped up at Southern Lights as a cook in 1985. Soon, he bought into the business, which flourished with stylish farm-fresh food, a chummy chalk-board atmosphere and reasonable prices.

Chef J.B.D. had a hot hand.

He was a regular on WFMY-TV’s morning-show cooking segment with the late Lee Kinard.

He played a part in launching Prizzi’s, an Italian cafe in Quaker Village; The Edge, a Tate Street bar; Nico’s, a fine Italian place downtown; and 1618 West Seafood Grille, which still reels in diners on Friendly Avenue. He also spun off a satellite of Southern Lights in Winston-Salem.

In time, Drees clung only to Southern Lights in Greensboro, which he moved to a Lawndale Drive shopping center in 2010. Business was skinny but sustainable until COVID body-slammed

restaurants in the spring of 2020. Drees closed his doors to diners and snapped off the lights for good that summer, ending a remarkable 35-year run.

The hard stop did him good. He was surprised at how much he enjoyed taking long walks and having time to chat about topics unrelated to business.

“I didn’t realize until the pandemic that there was so much more to life than working,” he says. “I was having flashbacks to when the kids were little, and I had Sundays off.”

He took a year to stir the question of what to do next. With three adult children, he didn’t need as much income as before, but he needed to beef up his retirement account.

He’d lived long enough to watch friends and family die sooner than expected, so he knew that time was his most precious commodity. But he wanted to spend some of it working. Nobody needed to tell him that he was really good at what he did.

He thought about opening a soup-salad-and-sandwich shop downtown in 2021, but foot traffic still lagged, and reliable employees were hard to come by.

He pared down his idea.

“I wanted soup to be the star of the show,” he says.

He explored the idea of selling soup to retirement homes, and that’s when he learned that most of the seniors’ soups were bought frozen and warmed to life again.

“A light went off,” he says.

He whipped up 80 quarts of soup — six flavors led by his signature tomato basil — poured them into cardboard take-out cups, stuck them in a freezer and carted the frosty blocks to the Corner Market in February of 2022.

He sold 60 of them.

“I said, ‘OK, this is a thing,’” he recalls.

Six months later, he added online ordering and home delivery. Today, internet sales have almost caught up with face-to-face sales, thanks to a social media presence driven by his fianccée, Nancy Cunningham, who handles marketing for Grandover Resort.

Orders spike when she teases “Souper Tuesday” — buy three quarts, get a fourth free — on Facebook and Instagram.

Drees will keep his market table for the revenue and in-person feedback, but he’s keen to grow the delivery side.

“I think [Amazon founder] Jeff Bezos was on to something, starting with, I get paid before I even pull out of the driveway,” he says. “I’m modernizing myself, but keeping it as basic and simple as I can.”

Relishing his elastic schedule, Drees cooks and delivers three to four days a week, more or less if needed. He hovers over every batch with help from two part-timers at Short Street Gastro Lab, a shared kitchen space in Kernersville.

With a repertoire of 80 recipes, he offers eight to 12 flavors at the market every week. He posts four online. Standing over a tilt skillet, basically a flat-top grill with straight sides and a crank to tip the bed, Drees makes cooking for the masses look easy. Ten gallons of cheesy potato-and-ham soup coming up.

He fires up the skillet and slicks it with glugs of olive oil. In goes a bag of bacon bits; anyone who eats ham isn’t going to fuss about bacon. Next up: chopped cooked ham, onions, celery and carrots, which Drees flips and scrapes with a giant spatula until both the meat and veggies wear a shiny brown crust. He douses the sizzle with water to deglaze the pan.

A fragrant, hissing fog rises. Dried dill comes to life. Pails of quartered red potatoes simmer to softness. A blend of cheeses — cheddar, Monterrey Jack, American and cream — relaxes into

a velvety matrix.

With both hands, Drees grasps a 2-foot-long immersion blender — it looks more like a gardening tool than kitchen utensil — and starts rowing. The cheese and potato lighten the mixture as he churns. Finally, he dips a spoon and closes his eyes so that he can read the taste and texture with his mouth, not his eyes.

“Needs more water,” he says.

Thinned to his satisfaction, Drees hands off the vat to a helper while he leaves to make a delivery nearby.

Four days later, at market, the rib-sticking soup goes for $13 a quart.

Drees’ youngest child, Jonas, rings up customers on an iPad. Standing behind Jonas, Drees is fenced by a ring of ice chests holding his wares. He faces in the direction of the original Southern Lights. It’s hard to believe so much time has passed since he started there, he says. It was like another lifetime.

What would he tell his younger self, knowing what he knows now?

“Don’t take yourself so seriously,” he says, pressing his lips into

Endless Fascination

The troubled life of F. Scott Fitzgerald

By Stephen e. Smith

In his 1971 memoir, Upstate, literary critic Edmond Wilson grouses about college kids knocking at the door of his “Old Stone House” in Talcottville, New York. “They want to know about Scott Fitzgerald and that’s all,” he writes. Wilson was Fitzgerald’s classmate at Princeton University, and he edited Fitzgerald’s The CrackUp and the unfinished novel, The Last Tycoon.

If you’re a reader of literary biographies, you can understand Wilson’s peevishness. Bookstore and library shelves are lined with Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald bios. Matthew Bruccoli’s Some Sort of Epic Grandeur is the definitive work. Still, there are many other bios — at least 30 — that are worth considering: Scott Donaldson’s Fool For Love, Arthur Krystal’s Some Unfinished Chaos, Niklas Salmose and David Rennie’s F. Scott Fitzgerald: A Composite Biography, among others.

Robert Garnett’s recent Taking Things Hard: The Trials of F. Scott Fitzgerald contributes significantly to the material available on the Jazz Age author and will be of particular interest to Fitzgerald aficionados with a North Carolina connection.

Garnett, a professor emeritus of English at Gettysburg College, is best known for his biography, Charles Dickens in Love. His Fitzgerald study is less inclusive than his work on Dickens, covering the final 20 years of Fitzgerald’s life, but his research is meticulous and reveals aspects of Fitzgerald’s personality that other biographers have ignored or overlooked.

During his most prolific years — 1924-1935 — Fitzgerald’s primary source of income was his short fiction (he published 65 stories in The Saturday Evening Post alone), and he was paid between $1,500-$5,000 per story when a Depression-era income

for a high-wage earner was $1,000 a year. Garnett focuses on the better-known stories — “The Ice Palace,” “A Diamond as Big as the Ritz,” “The Intimate Strangers,” “Babylon Revisited,” “One Trip Abroad,” etc. — to explicate the romantic themes and ineffable mysteries that defined Fitzgerald’s checkered life.

The story “Last of the Belles,” written in 1927, exemplifies Fitzgerald’s return to the familiar theme of romantic infatuation and lost love. It closely parallels Fitzgerald’s time in Montgomery, Alabama, where he served as a young lieutenant during World War I. He incorporates his courtship of his future wife, Zelda Sayre, into the narrative and transforms her into the character of Ailie Calhoun, “the top girl” in town. The narrator, identified only as Andy, is smitten by Ailie, but she becomes enamored of Earl Schoen, a former streetcar conductor disguised in an officer’s uniform.

“The Last of the Belles” plays off Fitzgerald’s strong sense of class, his longing to recapture youthful romance, and his grieving “for that vanished world and vanished mood, Montgomery in 1918 . . . a living poetry of youth, warmth, charming girls, and romance.” “The Last of the Belles” is Fitzgerald’s final attempt to recapture the South of his youth and its alluring women.

A close reading of the stories opens a window into Fitzgerald’s thematic preoccupations, allowing the readers to glimpse aspects of his thinking that are not readily apparent in his less spontaneous, more ambitious novels. But it also presents the reader with a challenge. Garnett provides a synopsis of the stories he cites, but to fully comprehend his explications, it is necessary to read the stories in their entirety, an undertaking that casual readers might find laborious.

Fitzgerald’s North Carolina sojourn is at the heart of Taking Things Hard. In the Fitzgerald papers at Princeton’s Firestone Library, a personal journal kept by Laura Guthrie, a palm reader at Asheville’s Grove Park Inn, draws an intimate, none-tooflattering portrait of Fitzgerald during his saddest period. “The 150-page single-spaced typescript follows him closely, day by day,

often hour by hour,” Garnett writes. “Most Fitzgerald scholars are aware of it; few have read it through, fewer still have mined it.” Garnett believes Guthrie’s journal “is the most valuable single source for any period of his (Fitzgerald’s) life.”

In the early spring of 1935, Fitzgerald fled Baltimore for Asheville. He rented adjoining rooms at The Grove Park Inn, where he wrote a series of historical stories for Redbook. Garnett describes these stories as “wooden, simplistic, puerile, awash in cliché and banality, with ninth-century colloquial rendered in a hodgepodge of cowboy-movie, hillbilly, and detective novel.” These amateurish stories were the low point of Fitzgerald’s writing career.

Guthrie became Fitzgerald’s confidant, constant companion and caregiver. He and Guthrie were not physically intimate, but she was enamored. Of their first dinner together, she wrote, “He drank his ale and loved me with his eyes, and then with his lips for he said, ‘I love you, Laura,’ and insisted, ‘I do love you, Laura, and I have only said that to three women in my life.’”

The story Guthrie tells is anything but inspirational. Fitzgerald was intoxicated most of the time — she recorded that he drank as many as 37 bottles of beer a day — and he insisted that she remain at his beck and call. “He is extremely dictatorial,” she wrote, “and expects to be obeyed at once — and well.” As the summer progressed, his drinking grew worse, and he eventually turned to gin “with the

idea,” Guthrie noted, “that he had to finish the story and that he could not do it on beer, even if he took 30 or so cans a day, and so he would have to have strong help — first whiskey and then gin.”

In June, Fitzgerald headed to Baltimore and detrained briefly in Southern Pines to visit with James and Katharine Boyd. His conduct while visiting with the Boyds was such that he felt compelled to write a letter of apology when he arrived in Baltimore.

In late 1935, Fitzgerald took a room in Hendersonville, North Carolina, and wrote his self-deprecatingly “Crack-Up” articles. Published in Esquire in 1936, these revealing essays marked the end of his career as a popular novelist and short story writer. He would eventually move to Hollywood, spending the remainder of his days toiling for the dream factories and outlining a novel he would never complete. He died there in relative obscurity in 1940 at the age of 44.

A century after its publication, The Great Gatsby remains a mainstay of the American literary canon, and critics and scholars continue re-evaluating Fitzgerald’s life. No matter how many times they retell the story, it will never have a happy ending. OH

Stephen E. Smith is a retired professor and the author of seven books of poetry and prose. He is the recipient of the Poetry Northwest Young Poet’s Prize, the Zoe Kincaid Brockman Prize for poetry and four North Carolina Press Awards. His latest book is The Year We Danced: A Memoir.

Making Music in the Woods

And putting money in artists’ pockets

By tom m axwell

There’s a 63-acre compound on Borland Road, out in the rolling Orange County countryside near Hillsborough. On it is situated a log cabin, a barn and several other outbuildings stuffed with the kind of gear that only true believers would collect: a Neve 88R mixing desk originally commissioned by New York’s Electric Lady Studios; a live reverb chamber; several isolation booths; and, aurally immersive Dolby Atmos mixing capabilities. This particular compound goes by the name of Sonark Media, and it’s a thoroughly modern complex offering recording, performance and streaming capabilities.

“I said to my wife, ‘You know, I want to keep doing music,’” Raets says. “‘So, if we’re moving from this house, then you have to allow me to build a proper studio.’ And she said, ‘Yeah.’”

Raets’ idea of what constitutes a “proper” studio might differ a little from most industry entrepreneurs. For one thing, he and his partners run three full recording studios on the Sonark property: Studio A, with a huge live room, high ceiling and three isolation booths; the smaller Studio B; and a renovated barn dedicated to rehearsals, live performances and streaming. The rooms sound amazing, and the gear is impeccable. If this was all the Sonark gang did, it would be more than enough. But these people are true believers.

“I think we’re uniquely set up to help the music industry rethink how music should be made, distributed, enjoyed and monetized,” Raets says, “and that is basically what keeps us awake every day. How can we help our musicians make more money in this world where music has become worthless? That’s our mission at Sonark.”

Sonark is the brainchild of Steven Raets, a Belgian-born polymath. Up until 2012, Raets had been working for the “big three” investment firms: Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley and JPMorgan Chase. That all changed the following year, when he retired.

“Then basically the question was, what was gonna be the rest of my life?” Raets says. “I’ve always had a big passion for music. I’ve played in all kinds of bands since I was 12 — party bands, original bands, when I lived in Belgium and London. I’ve always been involved in music; that’s always been my destiny. I just happened to be really good at mathematics and statistics, so I ended up in a trading role, but I knew I was going to go back to music. That moment happened in 2013.”

Raets built a home studio in the basement of his Chapel Hill home — he’s married to a UNC professor — and started producing records. Once the kids were out of the house, the couple decided to scale down. They bought a farm not far from where they lived and began fixing up the old log cabin on the property. But Raets wanted to move up, literally, from the basement.

The fact that this question is even being articulated is refreshing. Without getting too technical about it, many of the fundamental revenue streams for musicians have dried up over the last few decades. Unless you’ve established a national touring base, it’s tough to make enough money at each gig to put gas in the van to get to the next town. Vinyl records have made a comeback, but they’re considered merchandise, to be sold along with band T-shirts, posters and hoodies — and many clubs take a percentage of this money. Merch is welcome supplemental income, but it will hardly keep body and soul together. That leaves digital streaming.

In the past year and a half, Spotify’s CEO Daniel Ek has made over $345 million, with his top executives coming in a close second, leaving megastars like Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift in the dust. This is because a generous calculation of Spotify’s payout is about $0.003 per stream, and that’s allowing for the artist having complete control over their intellectual property, which is seldom the case. So even Swift — the most streamed artist on the platform — has yet to earn the kind of dough Ek has made.

Raets and his colleagues have spent a lot of time on the issue of putting money into musicians’ pockets, and they’ve come up with PIE TV, a subscription platform that allows users to stream Sonark-produced live performances on demand.

“It is inevitable that, as our technology advances and becomes more sophisticated, and as the bandwidth of our wireless devices increases, music will be viewed as well as listened to,” Raets says. “For years, I’ve been thinking of how to do that in a way that could be packaged and make sense for both the artists and those who help produce it. We finally came up with this idea where we would start producing intimate shows with bands but produce them as if you are in the PNC Arena, except with maybe 150 people there. We give the band a very controlled environment with enormous amounts of production value.”

Sonark performances are shot on at least a half-dozen highdefinition digital cameras, while the audio is sent to Studio A for mixing. Edited audio and video are then synced and sent out for broadcast on the PIE TV app. Artists are paid guarantees for their performance, and they own part of the intellectual property of the broadcast and so are entitled to an ongoing royalty share from future streaming.

Compare this to the hugely popular YouTube live performances where none of the revenue generated from those videos goes to the artist. Admittedly, this is no different than live television

performances in days of yore. “If you were going to play Jimmy Kimmel or Saturday Night Live or Austin City Limits, you would have to do it for cost,” Raets says. “You get very little out of it as a band except for a huge platform and promotional value. But the monetization goes entirely to the network.”

PBS NC has taken note, broadcasting a season of Sonark Sessions: Live from the Barn featuring 10 North Carolina-based artists. As far as Raets is concerned, there’s no reason to stop there. “North Carolina is an incredibly fertile ground for talent,” he says. “But we really don’t have an industry. There’s not a lot of jobs around. I want to create awareness of the fact that the music industry is not a hobby; it’s a valid center of revenue. You have only to look at Austin, Texas, to see how that worked out for them. Twenty-five years ago, it didn’t exist. Now, the music industry contributes hundreds of millions of dollars in tax revenues to the city. My dream is to do something similar to that for North Carolina. There’s a lot of potential here and you can feel it bubbling everywhere.” OH

Tom Maxwell is an author and musician. A member of Squirrel Nut Zippers in the late 1990s, he wrote their Top 20 hit “Hell.” His most recent book , A Really Strange and Wonderful Time: The Chapel Hill Music Scene 1989-1999, was published by Hachette Books in April.

WISHING OUR COMMUNITY

A WONDERFUL

2025

What’s for Dinner?

This zesty one-pan chicken-and-orzo dish, that’s what

Story and photograph By JaSmine Comer

We've all faced the dreaded dinner dilemma: You know the one, where no one can agree on what to eat. Before I could even reach the counter, lured by the wafting smells tickling my nose and colorful palate of veggies, I was curious about what my mom was cooking in the kitchen — and always had a strong opinion on whether it would be one of my favorite dishes. When I was in middle school, Mom would always have a warm, home-cooked meal waiting for me after school or basketball practice. Back in my early 20s when I was living with my parents, I graduated to becoming the designated decision-maker when we were faced with the dinner dilemma.

That’s because I had gained my family’s respect from my love for cooking. But I was just following in my mom’s footsteps, and she never prepared a bad meal.

During the week, I crave simplicity in the kitchen. No one wants to clean up a mountain of dishes and pots after a long day of work. A one-pan meal is a perfect solution for the dinner dilemma, allowing you to maximize flavor while minimizing time at the kitchen sink and dishpan hands.

Lemon garlic parmesan chicken and orzo to the rescue. The first layer of flavor starts with a buttery base of aromatic shallots and garlic. White wine and lemon juice then harmonize with the richness of the butter, creating perfect balance. It all comes together with tender chicken and flavorful broth, with a perfect touch of saltiness from parmesan cheese. Lastly, fresh parsley brightens up the dish, making it a sensory smash. With so much flavor, no one will even guess you only spent 30 minutes in the kitchen. Dinner dilemma solved — easy peezy, lemon squeezy.

Lemon Garlic Parmesan Chicken and Orzo

Ingredients

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon oregano

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 pound boneless, skinless chicken thighs

2 tablespoons olive oil

4 tablespoons butter

1/2 small shallot, diced

2 garlic cloves, minced 1/4 cup white wine

1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

2 1/4 cups chicken broth

1 1/4 cups orzo

1/4 cup grated parmesan

Chopped parsley for garnishing

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350F. In a small bowl, mix together salt, oregano, garlic powder and pepper. Season both sides of the chicken.

2. Heat the olive oil in a large, oven-safe skillet over medium heat. Sear the chicken on both sides until brown, about 3–4 minutes per side. Once the chicken is browned, remove it from the skillet.

3. Reduce the heat to low and add the butter, shallots and garlic cloves. Sauté for 1–2 minutes.

4. Deglaze the skillet with the white wine, making sure to scrape the brown bits from the bottom. Simmer for 5 minutes or until the wine is reduced by half.

5. Add the lemon juice, chicken broth and orzo to the skillet. Stir to combine. Then stir in the grated parmesan.

6. Add the chicken thighs back into the skillet. Cover and bake for 30 minutes or until the orzo has absorbed most of the broth. Uncover during the last 10 minutes of baking. OH

Jasmine Comer is the creator of Lively Meals, a food blog where she shares delicious, everyday recipes. You can find her on Instagram @livelymeals

A Falconer Goes Home

And

discovers what, exactly, is in a name

By woody Faulkner

I can scarcely believe that I am here, standing on my ancestral ground with a majestic gold eagle on my arm.

Her massive talons grip my gloved arm. A bit heavy at 7 pounds, her feathered, muscular torso, noble head and sharp talons are all on display as if to say, “Watch yourself!”  Out of all the raptors used in falconry, the eagle is the largest. Emitting loud squawks, she lets me know that I need to pay strict attention to her. She is 50 years old, which is very old for an eagle. In the wild, they live to a max of around 35 years. On this gorgeous golden girl’s upcoming birthday, Barry, our Scottish falconer, is going to present her with a whole rabbit “. . . in pless of eh berrrrth-dey kehk!”

I long imagined re-enacting the regal hunting sport that gave my family its surname, Falconer/Faulkner. So, in July, John, my spouse, and I set out for Edinburgh ( or “Edinbruh,” as the Scots say), Scotland and Dalhousie Castle, where Falconry Scotland’s Ultimate Experience is located. Barry and son Jackson introduce us to numerous birds of prey on site, in-

cluding owls, hawks, falcons, eagles, a raven and a crow. We even meet the sister of the owl known for playing Hedwig, of Harry Potter fame! Taking turns with other guests, we “fly” the owls and hawks. Duke is a large owl so named because he swaggers like John Wayne when he walks. Bojangles is a hawk who wears a bell, and Lizzie is a small, white, talkative owl. Each flies from a perch at the falconer’s signal to our arm, lured by fresh chunks of chicken. Just before each one of these birds lights upon my left arm, its broad wings open widely, it tucks its tail down, while its talons thrust forward to grasp its perch. Then it gracefully folds its wings. I can barely feel little Lizzie landing, but Duke and Bojangles land with a goodly thud that makes my arm dip a bit. Their close proximity to me doesn’t invoke fear, rather admiration and oneness with the bird. The leather gauntlet provides protection from the otherwise deadly talons. After eating the raw chicken greedily, the bird sits patiently on my arm waiting for a command from Barry. Finally, we get to hold a bird of our choice. My pick? The large golden eagle.

Growing up in rural Vance County, N.C., surrounded by other Faulkner families, I was vaguely aware that our surname derives from the Medieval practice of falconry, but my interest was piqued when I seriously began to research my family name. Finding a wealth of information about my 9th great-grandfather and his family’s arrival in 1665 at Hog Pen Neck, a British colony of Maryland, aboard the ship Agreement, I was able to trace our line of Faulkners as far back as 13th-century Scotland.

The first forebears of our name was Ranulphus of Lunkyir, who was appointed Scottish Falconer in 1211 by the third king of Scotland, William the Lion (1165-1214). Lunkyir then changed his name to Ranulphus le Falconer.  And so it was that we found ourselves on an unusually sunny day in Scotland traveling north

from Edinburgh into the foothill region in which Scottish Kings and their falconers hunted. Hiring a driver for the day, we set out to visit an ancestral seat of the Falconer/Keith clan called Inglismaldie Castle (a small estate on a large tract of land). No longer occupied, the house had been the seat of the Lairds of Halkerton (Hawk-town and the Falconer/Keiths) from 1636 to the 1960s.

Arriving at the castle, I walk up to the front door and boldly knock three times with the round iron knocker as if to say to the ghosts within, "Open up, a Faulkner is here.” Alas, no answer.

Gazing up at the crest above the door, its motto catches my attention, “Quae Amissa Salva,” (“What is lost, has been saved”). After some quick googling of the phrase, we ultimately discover that this refers to Clan Keith (our relatives by marriage) and the Scottish Crown Jewels they saved from Cromwell’s armies in 1652.

On the way back from Inglismaldie, we make several stops to take in the spectacular coastal scenery perfect for falconry. Arriving at the ruin of Arbroath Abbey, founded by William I in 1178 and dedicated to his friend Thomas Becket, we first explore the visitor center. There, I read that King William is buried among the ruins — an unexpected jackpot!

Walking down what would have been the nave of the cathedral, leading to the high altar, there on the bare ground, I spy a large, red, flat stone: the tomb of William I! Here lies the monarch who granted a long line of Falconers their family name 900 years earlier!

Experiencing falconry in the land that gave me my name was immensely enjoyable and satiated my curiosity, leaving me full of gratitude. In Scotland, I found a safe — and sacred — place to explore what gave my family the wings to soar. OH

Woodson E. Faulkner II is currently a member of the voice faculty at The Music Academy of North Carolina; Accompanist and Assistant Director of the Burlington Boy Choir; and has recently retired from 35 years as a church musician.

You Can’t Drive Miss Daisy Crazy

An AI granny has all the time in the world, dear

By Cynthia a damS

Deliberating be -

tween pillows on Etsy that read “Monday. Ce N’est Pas Mon Day” (“Monday. That’s not my day”) versus “Ce n’est pas mon jour de chance, j’imagine” (“Not my lucky day, I guess”), a radio segment put an end to my shopping.

cat. When an indignant scammer drops any pretense of goodwill and says, “Stop calling me ‘dear,’ you stupid &**#,” an unflappable Daisy responds, “Got it, dear.”

The AI pensioner possesses inhuman patience and can wear her opponent down. “Let’s face it, dears, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

The NPR segment was not about Mondays, the descending chill, nor the brooding mood of our nation. None of that. Certainly nothing about feathering the nest with needlepoint. It was a tale about Daisy, the geriatric British robot.

Meet Daisy, an “AI granny” and clever creation of Virgin Media O2. With a voice imbued with grandmotherly kindness — and loneliness — she is designed to drive phone scammers insane.

The creative project headed by Sir Richard Branson’s company comes to the aid of an estimated seven in 10 Brits victimized by elaborate and costly scams. To the delight of the citizens of the Realm, Daisy also wreaks satisfying revenge.

Wearing sweaters and pearls (and the occasional rubber glove with a homey kitchen behind her), Daisy has a deceitful purpose, posing as “an AI pensioner specifically designed to waste the scammer’s time so we don’t have to.”

Virgin Media’s logic? While scammers are entangled in Daisy’s good-natured, seemingly dimwitted patter, they cannot simultaneously scam innocents. She is a perfect diversion.

The grandmotherly image — of a woman in her 80s — addresses scammers, saying with a smile, “I’m your worst nightmare.” One exasperated scammer huffs, “I think your profession is trying to bother people,” to which Daisy sweetly replies, “I’m just trying to have a little chat.”

To another who shouts that she has wasted “nearly an hour!” (her record for tying a would-be scammer in knots is 40-plus minutes), Daisy replies affably, “Gosh, how time flies!”

She spends it prattling on, pretending not to understand the scammer’s questions and instead speaking fondly of Fluffy, her

Daisy is a technological wonder who arrived too late to help my Mama. At 85, Mama was scammed by a young man posing as her much-loved grandson, a mountain-climbing, river-rafting, adventure-seeking fella. The scammer purportedly called from a Mexican jail, where he posed as my nephew. He claimed to have been set up along with his young fellow travelers, falsely accused of marijuana possession.

Without a word to anyone, Mama drove straight to Walmart with intentions to wire a contact $1,200 in bail money. As she completed the forms, a kindly Western Union clerk gently counseled her to reconsider and first call his family to confirm what she had been told.

Naturally, the scammer had warned her not to tell anyone, or there would be retaliation. “But how would they know?” the clerk gently asked.

Mama was so undone she wept, but agreed to phone her daughter-in-law and have a conversation. Immediately, she learned it was a scam. She had been duped. Her grandson was not in Mexico, nor had he been. He was safely at home.

Afterward, Mama was devastated at her gullibility. I made a point of returning to thank the Western Union clerk. She said it played out so frequently it was predictable.

Come to think of it, Mama’s phone scam played out on a Monday before a kindly intervention stopped the scammer cold. Proving Monday was Mama’s lucky day after all! Shaking my head at the memory I returned to Etsy, placing the pillow in my cart.

Now if only a clever someone would offer a needlepoint of deliciously duplicitous Daisy . . . OH

Cynthia Adam is a contributing editor to O.Henry magazine.

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Oh, Canada

The goose who came to dinner

By SuSan CampBell

That unmistakable honk — we have all heard it. Especially near golf courses, public parks or bodies of water. Canada geese can be found just about anywhere in our state. Their tan bodies, long black necks and heads with the characteristic white “chin strap” are unmistakable. Males, or ganders, are a bit larger than the females, referred to as geese, but other than that, the sexes appear identical. Pairs do remain together for life. However, if need be, they will seek a new mate in late winter. These handsome birds are vegetarians and well adapted to a variety of wet habitats.

At this time of year, aggregations of Canadas can number from hundreds into thousands of birds. Sadly, however, most of the birds are not wild individuals. The geese you are most likely to encounter are the descendants of farm-raised Canadas that were introduced for hunting during the first half of the last century. With no parents to show them where to migrate to and from, they immediately became sedentary, hence our ability to encounter these large waterbirds on any day of the year.

For many years, Canada geese were the most abundant of the larger migratory waterfowl wintering on our Coastal Plain. Tundra swans and snow geese were in the minority. Then as food became more abundant to the north — specifically as a result of agricultural practices around the Chesapeake Bay — the birds began short-stopping in the 1980s.

Concurrently, the number of snow geese has increased. There is greater availability of food on the tundra during the breeding season, with a decreasing snowpack as temperatures have increased. And in the winter, there is less in the way of competition from Canadas. Snow geese are leerier of hunters and not so easily fooled by decoys as they were 30 years ago. Swans, too, are far more challenging to hunt. Therefore, the number of birds surviving to breed come spring has boosted population numbers.

If you know where to go, you can encounter wild Canada geese in North Carolina, though the locations are restricted to our coast. The larger wildlife refuges, such as Pungo, Mattamuskeet and Alligator River, host birds from up north each winter. These birds are as skittish as our local birds are tame. Although there is waterfowl hunting on these properties, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is careful to limit both the days and the areas where hunting occurs. The majority of the acreage of these federal lands is truly a refuge for these and other species of waterfowl during the winter months.

Habitat on the refuges, as well as much of the adjacent state and private property, is managed to attract wintering swans and ducks in addition to geese. Cover crops such as corn, millet and a variety of native perennials are carefully fostered during the growing season as food sources for the visiting birds. Fields are flooded right before the flocks arrive to provide safety from terrestrial predators, such as bobcats, coyotes and even red wolves. These impounded areas have dikes with water-control devices that maintain the desired depth. Additionally, public access is controlled to reduce human disturbance.

Should you go in search of wild geese, there is plenty of access for viewing. There is a long history of bird and wildlife-watching on our federal refuges. Birdwatching and photography are very popular activities — especially in winter when the number of birds is nothing short of spectacular. There are good maps of the walking trails and roads open for driving. Thousands of people flock to marvel at the phenomenon each year. Some of us head east to ogle waterfowl multiple times during the season.

Regardless of where you encounter Canada geese in the winter, be aware that other waterfowl may mix in to gain what we think of as the “safety-in-numbers” strategy. A lone snow goose, Ross’s goose or white-fronted goose may hang out with the Canadas for a few days or even a few weeks. This could be the case with the flock in your neighborhood. So the next time you pass a group of Canadas, it might be worth stopping to see if an unusual individual has joined the party. OH

Susan Campbell would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photos. She can be contacted by email at susan@ncaves.com, or by calling (910) 585-0574.

Tales of a true Hill Billy

By Billy ingram

Or maybe I did, you decide.

I rang up my sister to wish her a happy birthday the other day and found her on the other end excitedly basking in a sentimental glow. It so happened she was visiting a friend who lives in the house where we grew up on Hill Street. When she told me this was a possibility at lunch earlier in the week, I suggested she ask if I could join them, reasoning I could cobble together a column for O.Henry out of what is a highly unusual experience. But when she brought up to her friend the possibility of my tagging along, the response was a resounding no. “We’ve read what your brother has written about our house.” Well . . . I never!

I have nothing but fond memories of roaming the two blocks of Hill Street north of Wendover in Latham Park (Irving Park adjacent, in modern parlance) as a carefree youngster. I’d tromp along searching for adventure (existing solely in our imaginations) with my brother, sister and the neighborhood youths who all seemed to move away after a short two or three years. In a Mayberry-like cliche, it wasn’t until I was a teenager and we had moved into Irving Park proper that my father had a key made for the front door on Hill — just to pass on to its new owner. We’d never had one before, the place remaining unlocked even when we were away on two-week vacations.

Our Mema, as we called my father’s mother, resided on the corner of Hill and Northwood in a charming Tudor-inspired cottage. Almost daily, she would stroll from her place to ours, cradling a wicker basket filled with cakes, pies or silver dollar country ham biscuits, a gingham cloth covering those baked goods. The stuff of Norman Rockwell paintings.

I wondered, how could I have offended my sister’s friend with my quaint remembrances shared in an article written nine years

ago? Surely not when I told readers about what was referred to as “The Snake Pit” located at the end of our driveway. Folks loved my gregarious parents who, until I was born and torpedoed the party, actually drove around in a school bus they had retrofitted into a rolling nightclub. On Hill Street, around sundown on warm nights, about a dozen young adults, many of whom I suspect should have been home with their babies, would congregate, guzzling Old Grand Dad or downing beers, laughing hysterically at heaven knows what, while upstairs we were attempting to sleep. Witnessing this spectacle, one Irving Park socialite remarked, “I don’t know who wrote Tobacco Road, but I know where he was standing when he thought it up!” Pull tabs yanked and discarded from Miller High Life cans littered the driveway each morning, so many I once made a chain mail vest out of them.

Was my faux pas revealing that our 70-year-old next-door neighbor was fond of sunbathing in the nude? Daphne Lewis left this realm ages ago, so that shouldn’t be a thorny issue today. Then again . . . maybe it is. Mrs. Lewis harangued her husband so loudly at night, we heard every word clearly inside our home. One imagines his death was a welcome reprieve when it mercifully came. When Mrs. Lewis passed away

a few years later, I helped her sister clear out the house while, the entire time, random objects fell off of shelves in rooms we weren’t in. For all I know, Daphne’s restless spirit may still be tossing tchotchkes to the floor in that residence.

Was it the story of brazen Mrs. Bunn, living directly across the street, that was so distasteful? Forty-something and attractive, I spent hours sitting on her front steps while Mrs. Bunn chain smoked, bitching about married life. Like Bette Davis in The Letter, from her porch perched above, Mrs. Bunn emptied a .22 snubnose into her husband one steamy September evening around dusk. He fell dead in the middle of the road between our homes. My first instinct was to rush across the street to see if she was okay, which my dad and I did after waiting a respectable few minutes. Wish I could find the Polaroids I took of my siblings posing inside the chalk outline of the body that police left sketched on the pavement — relatively tasteful pics, I’m certain. After exercising her Second Amendment right to a speedy divorce, Mrs. Bunn moved to the Sunshine State with her son and a boyfriend who had appeared on the scene before the proverbial gun smoke cleared.

Further up the block, a businessman shot and killed a per-

ceived peeping Tom perched outside the couple’s bedroom window. We were told he was an unfortunate teenager who managed to stagger back toward his nearby home before expiring.

As kids, we wandered in and out of everyone’s backyards without any consideration for boundaries or property lines. Almost every house had two-story garages that served as our clubhouses, whether homeowners were aware of it or not. The side yard removed from 1102 Hill Street when Wendover was widened in the mid-1960s was a jungle-like wooded area we dubbed “Tarzanland” for the interwoven vines we swung from, descending from ivy-covered trees. You can still see the weathered remnants today. Across the street was a backyard shrine with an ornate bird bath, crowned with a statue of Christ, that we called “Jesusland,” where we’d linger a bit and pray. For Pixie Stix and Wacky Packages, no doubt.

Northwood, traversing downward from Grayland Street, past Hill, then Briarcliff Road leading into Latham Park, was one the city’s greatest sledding spots whenever the city experienced its numerous major snow and ice events. Back then, that was just about every winter. On those corners, teenagers, all but obscured under unrelenting, swirling, nighttime whiteouts, stood around metal trash cans — every home was required to have one — serving as bonfire bins, swigging potables possibly purloined from

Pop’s liquor cabinet. The city didn’t bother plowing neighborhood streets then, creating a children’s paradise whenever a few inches of snowfall shut down the town. There was so much frozen precipitation when I was younger, my father would equip one of the cars with snow tires from November until March.

Heartstring-tugging tales, all of them. I’m astonished anyone presently living on Hill Street would be offended. Even with sidestepping the occasional corpse, this was a wonderful neighborhood to grow up in, inhabited with kind and loving neighbors, family and folks who became lifelong friends. An idyllic place to live to this day, one imagines.

Heck, I’m not the sentimental type. I was mostly curious if that deep hole I dug tunneling to China was still behind the garage and whether any misshapen mole creatures ever crawled out of it. As I’m writing this, I related some of these childhood stories to a good friend, who quipped dismissively, “No wonder you go around in life acting like the rules don’t apply to you.” With much trepidation, Billy Ingram wishes everyone a very happy new year. To paraphrase the aforementioned Bette Davis, “Fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride!” OH

With much trepidation, Billy Ingram wishes everyone a very happy new year. To paraphrase the aforementioned Bette Davis, “Fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride!”

- Fri / 9:30a - 5:00p Sat / 9:30a - 4:30p

Patti Callahan Henry

FRIDAY, MARCH 21, 2025 • 3 — 5 p.m. The Colonnade at Revolution Mill: 900 Revolution Mill Drive • Greensboro, NC

O.Henry magazine proudly presents Patti Callahan Henry, New York Timesbestselling author of 19 novels, including Becoming Mrs. Lewis, Once Upon a Wardrobe and Surviving Savannah. When she’s not writing, podcasting or co-hosting the popular Friends & Fiction web show, Patti enjoys digging into the life of C.S. Lewis and spending time with her family. We invite you to celebrate the release of Patti’s latest novel with us. The Story She Left Behind, out on March 20, is a tale that spans decades and continents, crossing from the coast of South Carolina to England’s Lakes District, and weaving together mystery and family legacy with the lyrical prose Patti’s fans know and love. Books are available for purchase with ticket to be picked up at event, plus we will have The Country Bookshop on hand with more.

Book your tickets today at:

January 2025

Still Life

Entering that gallery so many years ago, I spotted a gem, the perfect fit for the remaining blank space on one wall in my living room.

It’s a small piece, really, to dominate such a large room — two slender pale yellow vases, each graced with a modest bouquet of brilliant orange hibiscus blooms, set off within an ornate gold frame, which glistens whether bathed by the afternoon sun or more simply, in the reflected light of a nearby lamp.

When I return to my apartment after dinner, I sometimes amuse myself by spinning a backstory for the painting: a peace offering from a contrite beau who’s wounded his sweetheart, a birthday gift from a loving daughter to honor her hard-working single mother. But always it welcomes me home, and reminds me I’m still here.

—Martha Golensky

Martha Golensky’s most recent poetry collection is titled Pride of Place.

Thousands of stars and the Milky Way over Pantanal, Brazil

Shooting stars, sunrises and celestial wonder

Lynn Donovan has been shooting for O.Henry magazine since its 2011 launch. A Greensboro native, she loves to travel the world with her faithful companions — her husband, Dan, and her cameras — capturing wildlife, landscapes and everything in between. In addition to O.Henry shoots, she adds concerts, theatre events, festivals and other happenings to her repertoire. Capturing life through her lens and sharing the images with others is what makes her click!

Above us there is a huge ever-changing canvas of sky. If you look up you may be rewarded with phenomenal sights. Here are some of my observations over the years of gazing upward with my camera. The sun greets me every morning with its light and warmth, and, as a photographer, an endless number of stunning possibilities. Even on cloudy days, the filtered light creates a dreamy softness to everything it falls on. I love watching the daybreak. No two sunrises are the same, but all fill my lenses with vivid colors and intensity, creating magic.

PhotograPhs and story by Lynn donovan

Lightning over the Ararat Valley, V.A.

48 O.Henry

Without rainstorms, the sun would not be able to dazzle us with those radiant arcs of color across the sky, aka rainbows. Storms offer an opportunity to catch unique clouds filled with rain that replenishes the Earth. Clouds, storms and lightning can make the skies a photographer’s dream. When conditions are right, entire clouds glow with an eerie internal light or throw out bolts of lightning that can set the entire sky ablaze.

At the end of each day, the sun dips below the horizon and the golden hour — beloved among photographers for its soft diffused light — begins. For a brief period, the skies and clouds reflect the dying day’s warm colors and the entire sky glows. Many of my suppers have gone cold or been eaten late while standing outside, basking in the dusk.

The sun and moon take turns eclipsing each other. From partial to total, they are something to watch as they attempt to block each other’s light. During a solar

A double rainbow in Waterton Lakes National Park, Canada

Sunset in the Chilean Fjords, Chile

50 O.Henry

Full moon

eclipse, the moon passes between the sun and Earth, casting a shadow on Earth, partially or totally blocking the sunlight. For a total solar eclipse, the sun’s corona is briefly visible. At totality, an eerie, dusky darkness occurs — the temperature drops, birds stop singing and crickets chirp. A lunar eclipse occurs when the Earth passes between the moon, in its full phase, and the sun, dimming the light falling on the moon, sometimes giving it a red glow.

It’s often hard for me to stay indoors after dark given the incredible displays revealed long after the sun has set. The skies are filled with wonder that begs to be observed. The largest object visible from Earth is our moon, waxing and waning, filling the sky with its almost constant glow. Full, crescent, new and everywhere

Total Solar Eclipse Corona 2017, Andrews, N.C.

Sunrise at Fancy Gap, V.A.

Moonbow at Iguazú Falls, Brazil

in between, the moon can even be observed during daylight. It also can create moonbows, which are just like rainbows, but created by the light of the moon through water mists. Our lives are filled with poetry, song and prose dedicated to this beautiful rock.

The moon is hung upon a blanket of stars. If you leave the lights of the city behind, you will be able to see an entire canopy of twinkling stars above your head. And if you stay in the dark long enough, just like a camera’s long exposure, your eyes will adapt to witness the magnitude of starry light. Really dark skies reward observers with the Milky Way, stretching across the sky, reminding us of what a small part we each play in this magnificent universe.

If you are lucky and extremely patient, the way photographers have to learn to be, you will be rewarded with meteors streaking across the star field. Every year, several meteor showers rain across

the sky. And if you are really lucky and observant, you may catch a comet. Over the last few decades, several bright comets have streaked through the heavens, many visible to the naked eye.

Maybe one day I will graduate to shooting through a telescope!

One of the most elusive light shows happens when the Earth’s magnetosphere is disturbed by the sun’s solar wind, causing aurora borealis, or northern lights. They range from a faint glow to arcs across the sky to dancing curtains in colors of red, green, blue to yellow and pink. While I’ve traveled all the way to Alaska, Iceland and Norway to experience their splashy shows of color, the solar flares are sometimes so strong that we can catch them as far south as North Carolina — which happened twice in 2024. Sometimes, all you have to do is step into your own backyard, look up and focus! OH

Aurora in Norway

A Page High School alumni moonlights as a fashion designer

By C assie Bustamante • Photogra Phs By

By day, Greensboro native Matt Healy works in HR for Ecolab, a global player in water treatment and other technologies aimed at protecting people. After work, he can be found hauling his kids to baseball games or basketball practice with his wife, Sarah, or coaching their soccer team. But when the office has been locked up for the day and the two boys tucked into bed, visions of bold, patterned dresses dance in his head.

Even as a preschooler in the early-’80s, Healy colored liberally on his clothes. His parents, worrying that something might be wrong, took him to see a child psychologist. The diagnosis? Their healthy, young child was simply telling them, “I have my own style.”

“My personal style has been pretty bold,” Healy says, then looks down at his black polo shirt and gray twill pants and chuckles.

“This was just a very-exhausted-on-Monday look.”

By contrast, his brand’s instagram feed (@augustus_roark) features images of models wearing colorful bohemian skirts paired with vintage-style T-shirts — or patterned patchwork dresses — bringing to mind vintage vinyl album covers.

“I’ve always described the Augustus Roark brand, the look of it, as like a prep-school Deadhead or like the guy who listens to Joy Division at a fraternity party,” says Healy. “You’re in the scene, but you’re pushing it a little bit.”

While music inspires the Augustus Roark aesthetic, the company’s name was drawn from literature. “Augustus” pulls from the Lonesome Dove character, Augustus McCrae, and “Roark” from Howard Roark, the protagonist in Ayn Rand’s philosophical novel, The Fountainhead. These two characters, says Healy, were both individualistic but heroic and went against the societal grain.

“It sort of symbolizes, ‘Be an individual. Be who you want to be. Follow your own North Star.’” Inspiration wasn’t far afield. His own father, though in finance, has always stretched the boundaries of the latest fashion. “He is always way better dressed than me,” says Healy. “He’s pretty bold.”

Of course, he’s quick to add that his mother, who “sold clothes for a time with her sister,” has also been an influence. “I don’t want to discredit my mom — she’s very fashionable,” he says, “but my dad is kind of the one that really has an eye for it.”

Though you might say that Healy’s fashion design career began with those original scribbles on his childhood garments, he admits that he didn’t take the leap into it until his mid-20s, a few years after earning a degree in history from UNC Chapel Hill.

While his mind is always swirling with designs, he started simply — with T-shirts. “The

T-shirt was always just an entry point for me.”

But the T-shirt business has remained strong and steady. Some of his pieces can be found in shops across the Carolinas, California, Colorado, Texas, Tennessee and D.C. In fact, if you attended the 2024 N.C. Folk Festival, you perhaps perused or even purchased one of Healy’s designs — a bold graphic in red, purple, pink and blue with white block lettering on a navy background. With music often serving up style inspiration, Healy says it was “a natural fit.”

From his bootstrap and T-shirt beginnings, Healy segued into collared shirts and hats, followed by rugby shirts, and officially launched Augustus Roark in 2007.

His rugby shirt designs caught the eye of fellow UNC Tar Heel Alexander Julian, whose own father, Maurice S. Julian, opened Chapel Hill boutique Julian’s in 1942. Julian, known for designing the teal-and-purple Charlotte Hornets’ uniforms as well as Carolina argyle, met Healy as “kind of a mentor, kind of a family friend.”

Julian saw something special in Healy’s designs and asked him about creating rugby shirts for his own brand at the time. “I am so naive, I didn’t even realize he was asking me that until later!” Healy recalls with a laugh.

While Julian’s style might be described as preppy, akin to Ralph

Lauren and Tommy Hilfiger, “disheveled preppy” is the look Healy portrays. He also seems heavily influenced, especially in his women’s designs, by the hippie movement. Think flowing shifts, Indian and near-Eastern fabrics, often sheer, and plunging necklines.

“People say I remind them of James Spader all the time, especially when I was younger and trimmer,” he says. “The Brat Pack, you can’t beat that.” Healy wasn’t even born until 1980 and was just a child when Emilio Estevez, Andrew McCarthy, Molly Ringwald and their crew graced movie screens across America.

Yet, he’s a self-described old soul whose style icons include several from the 1950s through 1980s: Robert Redford, Paul Newman, Brigitte Bardot and “maybe a dash of River Phoenix.”

After four years of peddling tees, Healy was finally ready to make the leap into women’s fashion. “It took so long to figure out how to get fabric,” says Healy, who sources a lot of his textiles from India, Italy, Peru and Mexico. “And how to find a pattern maker.”

For a couple of years, Healy searched the world over for a pattern maker, and — lo and behold — she was in his backyard all along, right here in Greensboro. Cassidy Burel, who has her own line of couture gowns, freelances for Augustus Roark as both pattern maker and model. While both are designers, each comes at it from different angles. Healy’s jumping off point is always the bold fabric. “I am very driven by color combinations.”

And Cassidy? “She is the total opposite,” he says. “She comes

at it from a shape. She likes very minimalistic — white or one color.” While their aesthetic is completely different, their working relationship produces bold results.

Often, after completing a piece for Augustus Roark, “She will say, ‘I never thought this would work, but it does.’”

The first dress ever designed by Healy was named “the Sarah,” a maxi-dress with ruffled shoulders, a wide V-neckline and a long side slit in a white fabric that features emerald-green dragons, butterflies, birds and vines with pink berries. Healy insists that it was “absolutely 100 percent” designed with his greatest supporter and influence in mind, his wife. Sarah, who works as the director of strategic marketing and communications at Canterbury School, met Healy right around the time Augustus Roark was officially launching and can often be found wearing her husband’s creations. Born and raised in Western Massachusetts, Sarah’s New England “hipster prepster” vibes echo throughout his designs. Currently, most Augustus Roark dresses are one-offs or come in a single size run, which Healy says is “cool” because, if you own one, you’ve got a unique piece. But his goal is to be able to sell

a fully running women’s line. Healy recalls his mentor, Julian, telling him that designing woman’s fashion was more fun because you could be really innovative. “He always wanted to do it, but he never took the leap,” he adds.

Healy hopes, like Julian’s own father did for him, to leave somewhat of a legacy for his two sons, just 9 and 12 now. “Gucci didn’t become Gucci until 40 years into Gucci,” he says, explaining that the brand didn’t explode into the iconic company it is today until generations later. Healy chuckles, “I am in no way, shape or form suggesting that I am like these brands,” but he’d love to see his kids run with it into the future one day. But for now, while Augustus Roark is still in his hands, he says, “I still have so much I want to do.”

At present, this full-time employee, dad and husband is happy with what he’s been able to accomplish as a simple fashion-designing moonlighter. “I created something out of nothing and that is what I am most proud of. And I am proud that it still exists.”

Of course, it wouldn’t hurt if someone like, say, Gwyneth Paltrow, would don one of his dresses. Rob Lowe, he adds, would be incredible, too. And who knows? You might even spy an Augustus Roark booth — or his T-shirt designs — at the 2025 N.C. Folk Fest.

“You’ll always look back and regret it if you didn’t try,” says Healy. “That’s what Augustus Roark symbolizes — be who you want to be.” OH

For more information, visit @augustus_roark on Instagram.

A Cottage by the College

Jane Green, neighborhood happiness broker

by Cynthia a dams • PhotograPhs by a my Freeman

“Iwas outside yesterday working in the yard, and a young girl came by and said, ‘I love your house so much! I stop and look at it every day. I hope one day to have a house just like this,’” says Jane Green, who squeezed a small house on an incredibly tiny lot in the historic College Hill neighborhood. She also squeezed in an inordinate amount of happiness in the process.

“I have met so many nice young people living here. I felt,

‘Wow. That’s such a nice thing to say,’” she says, smiling widely as her eyes fill.

With a well-trafficked sidewalk bustling with passing UNCG students, Jane frequently enjoys porch time, befriending neighbors — even those happening by whom she may never know.

During the summer, a bubble machine installed on the front yard telegraphs Jane’s contagious happiness. A riot of flowers tumbles from planters and tin buckets; pale lavender petunias, lavender and herbs prevail.

By fall, pansies replace petunias, planted in abundance and the porch, an outdoor living room complete with hanging lanterns, table and chairs, rocker and cheerful swing, is dressed according to the season. It is Jane’s favorite place to be.

She has triumphantly brokered joy into her life. Like the pansies she admires, Jane blooms where she is planted. Resilient little pansies recover “even when frozen in a block of ice. Don’t give up on them!”

She sometimes looks back as she is leaving home, to reassure herself it is all real.

“That it’s still there,” Jane says wonderingly.

The best stories often start with serendipity. In the Greens’ case, unseen hands helped them along the way from the time they relocated to Greensboro from New Jersey in order to be closer to their adult children and their growing families.

Yet a shadow eclipsed the Greens’ sunny home last year when Richard succumbed to a debilitating illness four year after creating their pared-to-perfection cottage. Long married, Jane has spent the past year recalibrating, adjusting to life on her own.

As a couple, meals were a communal time. She missed that deeply when freshly bereaved. It was over dinners that the Greens processed the events of their lives.

“You talk about the day. The kids. You’re there.”

Naturally slender, she forced herself to eat after losing her husband.

“You know, the first time I had to sit and eat alone, that was hard for me. I’d never thought about that. That took a lot of getting used to,” acknowledges Jane.

“So, I ate outside [on the porch] and it made me feel better. For several weeks I did that. Kids were going by, they knew me, and I was able to get over that.”

There is a wistful pause. Even so, Jane remains the optimist on the block, a consequence of a closeknit family and actively cultivating a sense of belonging. More than a few longevity experts say such a sense of community is an essential ingredient of a healthful life.

“Your friends are important.” But so are neighbors, she explains.

Instinctually, Jane grins. “I like it just where I am,” she says, gesturing towards the front yard as students pass a white picket fence, part of the house’s charm initiative.

“The only part that bothers me is that they move on . . .” she adds wistfully. “But you get new ones,” she reminds herself. Despite loss, Jane persists, offsetting what might have been consuming loneliness.

Such boundless enthusiasm has made Jane a self-appointed booster for College Hill, downtown Greensboro, the Tanger Center, the City of Greensboro (especially City planner Mike Cowhig) and the students at UNCG.

Notably, too, her positive thinking seems to manifest good things.

Long before the Greens built their dream house, Jane kept a picture of a cottage torn from a Montgomery Ward catalog for future reference. She loved the simple, vintage charm. To her mind, it appeared cozy, friendly and welcoming.

Longing eventually inspired Jane and Richard to build their future Greensboro home in a historic district, where the lots were smaller and better suited to the cottage proportions.

They considered rehabbing other properties. But the Greens ultimately hoped to find an economical, buildable lot within Greensboro.

A lot that had been donated to the College Hill Neighborhood Association languished. College Hill resident Dan Curry, a member of its board and with long experience with Housing and Community Development, thought it could be viable. It was largely viewed as unbuildable, he acknowledges.

Even some city officials doubted it was sufficiently large enough to build. Yet Curry thought it could be done.

Empty and littered with refuse, 3,500-square-feet of land was once the entrance to a foundry. It had slowly devolved into an eyesore.

Curry and Cowhig, who worked with historic districts, arrived at a solution that would check several boxes and pacify residents who complained about the problematic lot. It would require coordinating a new build with various factions.

Both men believed the right project could be slipped onto the lot (called “infill”) and restore the 1800s historic streetscape to a more congruent, appropriate reality. “They [the Greens] had to overcome so many obstacles to make it happen,” says Cowhig, and it took two years to resolve.

But it would have to be just the right-sized house.

Not too big, not too small — a Goldilocks fit.

Yet even the Greens’ first look at the lot was singularly unfavorable.

Jane says bluntly, “It was a garbage pit.” But the Greens understood that the lot might be just large enough for their downsized house, minus a private driveway. (Egress would be via an existing driveway to a UNCG-owned building behind the lot used by the drama department for prop building.)

Long accustomed to 2,500 square feet, the Greens planned a 950-squarefoot build. Jane stresses that it was less than 1,000 square feet of living space “without the porch.” The porch, which they insisted upon, was crucial to expanding their living space and the desired cottage look.

“I love a front porch,” Jane repeats, adding a happy sigh. With additional guidance from Summerfield contractor Gary Silverstein, the newbie build would appear right at home among historic homes more than a century older.

Cowhig assured all involved the cottage would meet local standards and fit with neighboring homes.

While the Greens rented a home for 10 months in High Point, their daughter, Nicole, who lived in nearby Sunset Hills, helped them strategize

and downsize in anticipation of the new cottage.

They spent months going through a lifetime of stored possessions they had brought to North Carolina. Nudged by Nicole, they winnowed out extraneous possessions, and she arranged a tag sale. (The $600 proceeds would eventually pay for a small shed behind the new house.)

Silverstein had to work under less-than-ideal circumstances. The lot was on a busy street, close to UNCG. Construction workers had limited street parking as they ferried materials to the tiny site.

He went the extra mile, attending the planning board meetings before he even knew he had the job, Jane adds. Silverstein also took care of the cumbersome permitting requirements.

With tight building parameters, he had to improvise, using a crane in order to raise the roof rafters, reassuring watchful neighbors that their adjacent homes would be unscathed.

There was no room for error.

“He was wonderful, here working all the time.”

Silverstein completed the Greens’ new home on October 31, 2018.

A beaming Jane adds, “He was on budget!”

Naturally, budget mattered to the active retirees, who opted to

work part time jobs. Richard worked nights as a security guard downtown, freeing days to pursue his lifelong passion for blackand-white street photography. Jane was hired by Our Lady of Grace, working with young school children. Both thrived.

Six years later, much has changed at the Greens’ residence.

O.Henry photographer Bert VanderVeen, whose studio is nearby, had befriended Richard, admiring his striking black-andwhite photography.

He proposed having Richard’s first posthumous show and a reception in his honor at the studio, selling prints to benefit charity.

The reception filled with college-age young people who knew Richard and Jane. The students bought almost all of Richard’s works and paid homage to their friend, who was a generation apart — or more — in age.

With the new year, Jane takes stock. While she admits there have been some difficulties without her partner of oh-so-many years, her much loved neighborhood has helped Jane remain contentedly in the home she and Richard built together.

Their mutual adaptability became a key factor in coping with transition and the inevitability of change.

“As you grow older, I think you have to choose a place where

there’s activity,” she advises over a coffee on Tate Street, an easy walking distance from her cottage.

“Sure, you hear the fire engines, but after a while, you don’t even notice that stuff. I like being in a city. And I love being in a college town,” says Jane. “One day, I won’t be able to drive, but I can walk!”

She adds that as wonderful as she finds being in a lively place with access to downtown, being stuck “in a tiny house in the middle of nowhere” would have held little appeal.

“You need to be around people, especially now that I’m by myself.”

Furthering her commitment to the neighborhood, Jane maintains a Little Free Library. The replica of her cottage is stocked with books for anyone wandering by. Which reminds her: It presently needs restocking. “When I get really low, my daughter gets online and gets donations.”

The library box serves as another way to meet people, she says, brightening. “They come to put books in and they talk to me.” During the pandemic, she filled the box with canned goods rather

than books to help financially strapped students. They profusely thanked her, Jane says, her eyes welling with tears.

With her coffee cup drained, Jane glances at her watch. She’s going apple picking with her grandchildren and daughter in law. Flats of multicolored pansies await on the porch.

Pansies, she says admiringly, are cheerful flowers, who lift their faces to the sun.

Jane plants them every year; this year will be no different.

With that done, she’s planning for gingerbread trim below the eaves to punch up the cottage’s curb appeal. “Don’t you think that will look nice?” she asks.

While attending a San Francisco wedding last summer, she and Nicole visited the landmark “painted ladies” for the first time and were charmed by the row of colorful historic homes.

Jane returned to College Hill, energized, ready to punch things up. “More yellow? Or more purple?” she asks, scrutinizing the two colors painted onto sample trim.

Tweaking her already effusive, exceedingly happy home once again, Jane is happily absorbed.

“Do you like the yellow?” she asks hopefully. “I do.” OH

ALMANAC January

by a shLey WaLshe

And suddenly, you know: It’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.

— Meister Eckhart

January is a flickering candle, a blanket of starlight, a question blurted in the dark.

Before the day breaks, the quiet morning lures you into its luscious chamber. Outside, whispers of ancient myths illuminate the inky sky. You light a candle, watch the flame perform its sacred dance.

Quivering in perceived stillness, the fire speaks in a language raw and primal. What but the ecstasy of darkness could make the light act as a howling dervish? What but the silent tongue can taste the succulence of nothing?

Deep in the forest, a barred owl dances like a candle, wings raised as he bobs and sways in naked branches.

Who cooks for you? he cries into the silken void. Who cooks for you-all?

The quiet cradles every note.

Who cooks for you? he blurts again, urgent and steady.

The candle shivers. The silence deepens. The mystery bellows back. Soon, the brightest stars will fade into the tender blush of dawn. Flickers of a hidden world will vanish. The everything of silence will be gone. Sop up the rapturous blackness of this pregnant morning. Be as the trembling candle — danced by an unseen song. Let the silence deepen, let the darkness sweeten, let the mystery make itself known.

Out With the Old

Nothing lasts forever. But the mail-order fruitcake comes pretty darn close. Dig into the history of this notable loaf and you may find yourself down the nut-studded rabbit hole. Ancient Egyptians buried their pharaohs with it. In ancient Rome, the dense cake sustained soldiers in battle. And in the early 18th century, “plum cake” was outlawed throughout Continental Europe on account of its “sinfully rich” ingredients.

What was once a symbol of grand indulgence became a cheapand-easy Christmas gift when department stores began stocking their shelves with the commercially made wonders we all know and, well, know. Some love it, some loathe it, and — on January 3 — some hurl this Yuletide offering into the great blue yonder.

National Fruitcake Toss Day started in Manitou Springs, Colorado, in the 1990s. Their annual event, called the Great Fruitcake Toss, features various competitions in which participants launch the bricklike loaves by hand, slingshot or cannon. Fruitcake remains are donated to local farms for animal feed or compost. A gift that keeps giving indeed.

Winter Bloomers

Bless what blooms in this barren season: Christmas roses, early crocus, daffodils, snowdrops, clematis and — what heavenly fragrance! — aromatic wintersweet.

Translucent yellow flowers adorn the bare branches of this deciduous shrub, perfuming the air with lemony sweetness. Native to China, this woody ornamental thrives in full sun and moist, well-drained soil. Nothing like a dainty olfactory delight to greet us at the dawn of this bright new year. What’s best? The deer can’t stand it.

AREA INDEPENDENT SCHOOLS

Our area has a wonderful selection of independent schools with a variety of educational models. Look at what these schools have to offer and see what’s right for your child.

1725 NC 66 South

Kernersville, NC 27284

336-564-1010 / www.bmhs.us

The Center of It All

Bishop McGuinness Catholic High School develops students in their pursuit of excellence. In partnership with committed families, our dedicated faculty form the faith, character, and intellect of young men and women within an engaged, diverse community grounded in the Catholic tradition.

Bishop McGuinness is fully accredited, and a college preparatory high school that is widely recognized for high academic standards, extensive extra curricular activities and championship athletic teams.

Students are guided by an exceptional faculty and college counseling team, not only as they work towards college goals, but in all aspects of their experience at Bishop.

We offer a full AP program, aviation STEM courses, a thriving arts program with over 40 courses, Learning Support program and on-site tutoring services. We are located in the center of the Triad and have transportation available. We offer tuition assistance as part of our commitment to making a Catholic education affordable for families.

Visit our website at www.bmhs.us to schedule a private tour or to register for a Villain Walk, and immerse yourself in the Bishop experience. All faiths welcome.

For additional information contact the Admissions Office at 336-564-1011or send an email to psmendoza@bmhs.us.

When it comes to education, your child deserves every opportunity!

Greensboro Day School is a private, coeducational school with approximately 995 students, located on a beautiful 72-acre campus. We have earned a reputation for academic excellence by offering the best, most well-rounded educational experience in the Triad.

Our dynamic academic program keeps students interested, active, and engaged. Academic challenge is matched with support from an expert and caring faculty.

With a wide variety of extracurriculars, athletics, and arts opportunities, students can pursue their passions and discover new ones.

We believe in a community based on Respect, Kindness, Integrity, and Responsibility. Our students are encouraged to connect classroom learning with real-world issues in Greensboro and beyond. At GDS, we strive to provide a diverse community of belonging where every student is known, respected, and valued for their authentic self.

Learn more and see what’s possible at Greensboro Day School!

#1 K–12 Private School in the Triad and Guilford County!

Proud to be Noble: Unlocking Potential, Sparking Success

2025-2026 school year application is now open - priority deadline is March 31st.

At Noble Academy, we believe every child deserves the opportunity to shine. Our personalized approach unlocks their unique potential, sparks success, and fosters a lifelong sense of pride.

Founded in 1987, Noble Academy is a haven for gifted students with learning differences like dyslexia, dysgraphia, dyscalculia, and attention difficulties. Our comprehensive program empowers students in grades 2-12 to reach their full potential in a supportive and encouraging environment.

Our students are bright, talented, and athletic, but they often struggle in tradi-

tional classrooms. At Noble, we understand their unique needs and provide the personalized attention they deserve. Our highly trained faculty works closely with each student to develop a tailored learning plan that addresses their specific learning challenges.

Our Noble Academy Way® - five steps that are interwoven throughout the program - is a proven approach that has helped countless students succeed. Want to hear their stories? Follow the Blue & Gold Chat on blue-gold-chat. simplecast.com. To learn more about how we can support your child, scan the QR Code.

EQUIPPING CHILDREN

TO THINK , SPEAK , AND LOVE WELL SINCE 1995

Caldwell Academy is a classical, Christian school in Greensboro, N.C., serving students from TK through 12th Grade. Our students thrive in a rigorous academic environment shaped by a Christ-centered worldview, with enriching opportunities in fine and performing arts, competitive athletics, and a diverse array of extracurricular activities.

Your child is our curriculum.

Your child is like no one else, and their education should be just as unique. At Greensboro Montessori School, we authentically engage each aspect of our students’ development – cognitive, social, emotional – to help them develop the academic skills and self-con dence needed to ourish as the people they’re intended to be. Our teachers personally know their students and intentionally prepare their lessons, classrooms, and community to meet each individual’s needs.

PRIMARY OPEN HOUSE

Sunday, January 26, 1 p.m for families whose children will be 3, 4, or 5 years old in August.

A CHILD WHO KNOWS THEY ARE FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE BECOMES A LEADER WHO TRANSFORMS THE WORLD FOR GOD’S GLORY!

The Enrichment Center at Wesleyan Christian Academy celebrates each child’s God-given uniqueness. Designed for 3rd-12th graders with learning differences like dyslexia, ADHD, and processing disorders, the program offers small classes of 6-10 students with certified special education teachers. Students receive personalized instruction while enjoying athletics, fine arts, and opportunities available in our larger academy - all taught from a Biblical worldview. To schedule an admissions tour, please call us at 336.884.3333 or visit www.wcatrojans.org wcatrojans.org 336.884.3333

WESLEYAN CHRISTIAN ACADEMY

B’nai Shalom Day School:

Welcome to an educational journey like no other, where small is not just a number, but a deliberate choice. Serving students 8-weeks through 8th grade, B’nai Shalom Day School is the only Jewish independent school in the Triad.

B’nai Shalom is deeply rooted in their mission to inspire curiosity, critical thinking, confidence and connection to Jewish values. Their state licensed preschool engages students in hands-on activities that push them to think critically and creatively, in a developmentally appropriate way.

In their Lower and Upper School, student-centered classrooms provide learners opportunities to take risks, think outside the box, and deepen their understanding of the world around them.

Explore the exceptional at B’nai Shalom, where small truly is beautiful, and where every student is seen. Welcome to a world of endless possibilities. Welcome to B’nai Shalom.

New Garden Friends School is the Triad’s only Preschool-12th grade school built upon the long-held standards of exceptional Friends schools.

It all starts with learning to be a good friend. At NGFS, students are guided to appreciate the interdependence of community life and consider how their attitudes, words, and actions affect others. The practice of peaceful resolution of conflict, service toward others, and respect and inclusion are fundamental pieces of who we are.

Is your child struggling to find their place? When students are seen and known at school, it can be a game changer. Knowing your teacher will listen can make all the difference to an anxious young learner.

We invite you to visit our community, talk to our teachers, and listen to our students. Come see what a difference NGFS can make for your child.

January 2025

Before attending any event, it’s best to check times, costs, status and location. Although we conscientiously use the most accurate and up-to-date information, the world is subject to change and errors occur!

Hamilton

January 2-5 • Steven Tanger Center

January 1–31

MAKING CONNECTIONS.

This installation of works from the Weatherspoon’s own collection showcases the gallery as an academic museum with deep connections to its campus, Greensboro and broader communities. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/exhibitions/current-exhibitions.

CRIP*. This group exhibition features contemporary artists exploring disabilities and the ways their personal experience of disability intersects with other aspects of their lives. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/exhibitions/ current-exhibitions.

ALPHA ART CLUB EXHIBIT. Pathos, Patience, Perseverance celebrates 100 years of High Point’s oldest African American women’s group and features photographs, memorabilia and newspaper articles collected by the club’s members over the last century. Free. The Art Gallery at Congdon

Yards, 400 W. English Drive, Suite 151, High Point. Info: tagart.org.

January 1–26

PIEDMONT WINTERFEST. Times and days vary. Glide, twirl or stumble your way across the ice rink with friends and family. Tickets: $15. LeBauer Park, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: piedmontwinterfest.com.

January 1–17

LIFE & ART OF CHARLES M. SCHULZ. Curated by the Charles M. Schulz Museum in California, this exhibit details the artist’s life, including a replica of his drafting studio, to introduce the viewer to each of the Peanuts characters. Tickets: $4 in advance, $6 at door. Alamance Arts, 213 S. Main St., Graham. Info: alamancearts.org.

January 1–5

WINTER WONDERLIGHTS. 5:30–10 p.m. Bask in the last few days of Greensboro Science Center’s holiday light display. Tickets: $16+; under

3, free. Greensboro Science Center, 4301 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: greensboroscience.org/ winterwonderlights.

January 2–31

WINTER SHOW. GreenHill Center for NC Art’s annual show features a vast array of North Carolina artists’ works. Free. Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc. org/winter-show-2024.

January 2–5

HAMILTON. Times vary. Featuring a score that blends hip-hop, jazz, R&B and Broadway, Hamilton tells the story of America’s founding father as you’ve never heard it before. Tickets: $49+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/ events.

January 3

FIRST FRIDAY. 6–9 p.m. Head downtown for a night of live music and happenings stretching all the way from

LeBauer Park and the Greensboro Cultural Center to the South End. Free. Downtown Greensboro. Info: downtowngreensboro.org/first-friday.

GREENSBORO LAUGHS. 8 p.m.

Live, laugh and laugh some more at this standup comedy showcase. Tickets: $6+. The Idiot Box, 503 N. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: idiotboxers.com.

January 11, 18, 25

BLACKSMITH DEMONSTRATION.

10 a.m.–4:30 p.m. Watch the sparks and red-hot iron turn into farm implements as the past wakes up in the able hands of a costumed blacksmith. Free. Historical Park at High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

January 11–12

MONSTER JAM. Times vary. Experience the thrill of big trucks performing exhilarating feats right in front of your eyes and ears. Tickets: $20+. First Horizon Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/ events.

January 11

NIGHT AT THE IMPROV. 8–10:55 p.m. At 8 p.m., seven comedians deliver laughs using impromptu prompts provided by the audience. Stay for Wits! at 9:40, where standup jokesters continue the crowdsourcing comedy. Tickets: $6+. The Idiot Box, 503 N. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: idiotboxers.com.

January 12 & 21

STAND-UP 101. Sundays, 3–5 p.m.; Tuesdays, 7–9 p.m. See if you have what it takes to be a stand-up comedian in this five-part workshop series launching on Jan. 12 and 21. Registration: $200. The Idiot Box, 503 N. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: idiotboxers.com/ classes.

January 14

THE TOWERING INFERNO. 7 p.m. In this 1974 classic film starring Paul

Newman, plus Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway, a massive fire breaks out during the grand opening ceremony of a San Francisco skyscraper. Tickets: $8. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/ events.

Life & Times of

Charles M. Schulz

January 1-17 • Alamance Arts

January 15

HISTORY TALK. 10 a.m. Hosted by the High Point Historical Society, Larry Neal, author of Southern Railway’s Historic Spencer Shops, discusses the shop complex, its effect on the North Carolina economy and how it became a vibrant part of the Southeast’s transportation network. Free. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

SHEN YUN. 8 p.m. Embark on a multidimensional experience through one of humanity’s greatest treasures — the five millennia of traditional Chinese culture. Tickets: $96+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

January 16–19

LEMURIA. Times vary. The winner of the 2025 New Play Project tells the story of Professor Anabelle Katz-Carver, the greatest primatologist since Jane Goodall, who is ready to pass on her crown to a successor — with a little monkey business, of course. Stephen D. Hyers Theatre, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov/departments/ creative-greensboro.

January 17

THE KARENS. 7:30 p.m. National headlining comedians Karen Mills and Karen Morgan deliver a night of nontoxic, clever and clean laughs. Tickets: $30.69+. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/ events.

SNOW QUEEN. 7:30 p.m. The Grand Kyiv Ballet presents the world premiere of its latest production. Tickets: $54+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/ events.

January 18

ARETHA TRIBUTE. 7:30 p.m. Capathia Jenkins and Ryan Shaw join the Greensboro Symphony to pay a little “Respect” to a legend. Tickets: $35+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/ events.

SOUP’S ON. 11 a.m–4 p.m. Cozy up at the 1808 Hoggatt House fire, where costumed interpreters make a hearty soup with baked bread and homemade butter. Free. Historical Park at High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

January 20

MLK MEMORIAL BREAKFAST. 7–9 a.m. The Human Rights Commission hosts its annual Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Event, with Dudley High School Principal Marcus Gause as the keynote speaker. Tickets: $45, sales end Jan. 13. Koury Convention Center, 3121

W. Gate City Blvd. Info: greensboro-nc. gov/government/city-news/city-calendar.

January 21

TOP GUN. 7 p.m. Tickets: $8. Feel the need for speed? Join Maverick, Goose and the gang for this 1986 classic film where romance and action collide. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

January 22

ART OF GLASS. 5:30–7:30 p.m. Winter Show curator Edie Carpenter, Starworks Glass Director Joe Grant, and glass artist and Cleveland Institute of Art Professor Emeritus Brent Kee Young discuss collecting studio glass and sustaining a professional glass practice. Free. ArtQuest at GreenHill Center for NC Art, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc. org/events.

January 23

IMPROV 101. 6:15–8 p.m. Learn how to master the art of improv in a five-part series of Thursday workshops. Registration: $150. The Idiot Box, 503 N. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: idiotboxers.com/ classes.

January 24–31

WINNIE THE POOH KIDS. Times vary. The beloved A.A. Milne characters that were brought to life in the 2011 Disney feature film take you on an adventure through the Hundred Acre Wood. Tickets: $15+. Starr Theatre, 520 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: ctgso.org.

January 25

AUTHOR DAY. 1–4:30 p.m. At 1:30 p.m., learn the basics of writing a memoir with Edward Di Gangi, author of The Gift Best Given; then, at 3 p.m., meet Elaine Neil Orr, author of Dancing

Woman, an indelible portrait of a young female artist torn between two men and two cultures. Free. Greensboro Public Library, 219 N. Church St., Greensboro. Info: https://www.greensboro-nc.gov/ government/city-news/city-calendar.

ROCK BAND KARAOKE. 2–3:30 p.m. Sit in with Music Academy faculty members to perform karaoke style — with an instrument or your voice. Free, but RSVP and request a song to perform via a Google form found on the website. The Music Academy of North Carolina, 1327 Beaman Place, Greensboro. Info: musicacademync.org/special-events.

WINE & CHOCOLATE FEST. 1 & 5 p.m. Celebrate two of life’s greatest pleasures in one place. Tickets: $20+. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex. com/events.

GET CRAFTY. 10 a.m–noon & noon–2

Handmade In House

p.m. In a sensory-friendly environment, let your kiddo make a paper cup hot cocoa or a yarn monster — or both — plus take home some hot cocoa mix to ring in the new year. Free. Little Red Schoolhouse at the High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

TOBYMAC. 7 p.m. You’ll be on your feet at this concert, featuring TobyMac, plus Crowder, Cain, Ryan Stevenson and Terrian. Tickets: $31.75+. First Horizon Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: greensborocoliseum. com/events.

DOUBLE THE LAUGHS. 8–9:30 p.m. Two Los Angeles-based comedians, Katie K and Jonathan Flanagan, take one Gate City stage. Tickets: $15. The Idiot Box, 503 N. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: idiotboxers.com.

Mary J. Blige

January 30

First Horizon Coliseum

January 28

THE MARK OF ZORRO. 7 p.m. Organist Tedde Gibson plays the only remaining Robert Morton Pipe Organ in the state while the classic silent film rolls on screen. Tickets: $8. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

January 30

MARY J. BLIGE. 7 p.m. The Queen of Hip-Hop Soul performs with special guests Ne-Yo and Mario. Tickets: $57.50+. First Horizon Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: greensborocoliseum.com/events.

January 31

ROOMFUL OF TEETH. 8 p.m. The Grammy-winning vocal ensemble stretches the boundaries of the human voice. Tickets: $7.50+. Tew Recital Hall, 100 McIver St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/ucls.

VOCAL DUO. 7:30 p.m. America’s Got Talent semifinalist John Riesen and wife Gillian are accompanied by pianist Benjamin Blozan for a night of soothing tunes. Tickets: $5+. Reconsidered Goods, 4118 Spring Garden St., Greensboro. Info: musicforagreatspace.org/season.

JOHN CRIST. 7 p.m. The fast-rising comedian delivers a night of Jokes for Humans, sure to have you laughing — unless, of course, you’re a humanoid. Tickets: $25.50+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

WEEKLY HAPPENINGS

SUNDAYS

BARRE CLASS. 10 a.m. Strengthen, tone and stretch your way into the week. Tickets: $10. Grandover Resort & Spa, 1000 Club Road, Greensboro. Info: grandoverresort.com.

TUESDAYS

PELVIC HEALTH YOGA. 8:30–9:30 a.m. This Vinyasa-style flow class works toward lengthening and strengthening the pelvic floor and surrounding muscles. Free, registration required and donations accepted. Triad Pelvic Health, 5574 Garden Village Way, Greensboro. Info: triadpelvichealth.com/classes.

WEDNESDAYS

LIVE MUSIC & PAINTING. 6–9 p.m.

while the O.Henry Trio performs with a different jazz vocalist each week. Free. O.Henry Hotel Social Lobby, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: ohenryhotel.com/o-henry-jazz.

THURSDAYS & SATURDAYS

KARAOKE & COCKTAILS. 8 p.m. until midnight, Thursdays; 9 p.m. until midnight, Saturdays. Courtney Chandler hosts a night of sipping and singing. Free. 19 & Timber Bar at Grandover Resort & Spa, 1000 Club Road, Greensboro. Info: grandoverresort.com.

FRIDAYS & SATURDAYS

LIVE MUSIC. 7–10 p.m. Enjoy drinks in the 1808 Lobby Bar while soaking up live music provided by local artists. Free. Grandover Resort & Spa, 1000 Club Road, Greensboro. Info: grandoverresort.com.

SATURDAYS

Evan Olson and Jessica Mashburn of AM rOdeO play covers and original music while artist-in-residence Chip Holton paints. Free. Lucky 32. 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: lucky32.com.

THURSDAYS

JAZZ AT THE O.HENRY. 6–9 p.m. Sip vintage craft cocktails and snack on tapas

YOGA. 9:30 a.m. Don’t stay in bed when you could namaste in the spa studio. Tickets: $10. Grandover Resort & Spa, 1000 Club Road, Greensboro. Info: grandoverresort.com.

WATER AEROBICS. 10:30 a.m. Make a splash while getting a heart-pumping workout at an indoor pool. Tickets: $10. Grandover Resort & Spa, 1000 Club Road, Greensboro. Info: grandoverresort. com. OH

OH PROfiles

The People & Businesses That Make the Triad a More Vibrant Place to Live and Work!

Amethyst Headspa

Ashley & Hillary Meredith

BrightStar Care

Community Foundation of Greater Greensboro

Five Star Painting

Fred Astaire Dance Studio

Greensboro Plastic Surgery

Habitat for Humanity

Kitchen Tune-Up

MM Interior Design Group

Murphy’s Upholstery

Pennybryn

The Sage Mule

SPONSORED SECTION JANUARY 2025

Photographs by Bert VanderVeen & Betsy Blake

MARTA MITCHELL PRESIDENT/PARTNER,

ANGELA AUSTIN DESIGN DIRECTOR/PARTNER, ASHLEY

LAUREN

DESIGN

DIRECTOR/PARTNER

Founded in 1989, MM Interior Design Group is a 16-member team of highly skilled interior architects who design and coordinate residential and commercial projects. From small interior remodels to complete groundup custom projects, MM Interior Design Group provides concept development, floor plan layouts, AutoCAD drawings and 3D renderings, virtual reality, plus selections for finishes, furniture and fixtures to ensure the client’s interior vision is fully realized.

“While there are other designers in the Triad, no other firm can match our design capabilities and experience,” says Mitchell. “Our team designs with the client in mind. We listen to their style and vision, then create a design that’s perfect for them.”

Based in Greensboro for 35 years, the firm has completed thousands of projects while maintaining a fivestar Google rating. MM interior designers are qualified by the National Council for Interior Design (NCIDQ),

the highest industry certification. They are also licensed by the NC Board of Architecture and Registered Interior Designers. In addition, MM Interior Design Group has received 11 Excellence in Design awards from the American Society of Interior Design — the equivalent of an Oscar in the field.

When they aren’t perfecting client spaces, the team members of this women-owned and -led business can be found enjoying their 13 children, 1 grandchild and multiple pets collectively.

INTERIOR DESIGN GROUP

609 State Street, Greensboro, NC 336-665-0188 mmidg.com

TONY DOLES OWNER

Murphy’s Upholstery & Design is a long-established business with a well-woven history. Founded in 1934 by the Murphy family, it has become a staple in the community. Today, Murphy’s is owned by Tony Doles, who took the helm over a decade ago following a career in the gift and decorating field.

On top of expert upholstery services, Murphy’s offers an extensive selection of fabric and home decor. Known for being the only upholstery shop in Greensboro that carries in-stock fabrics, available for immediate purchase and reupholstery use, it’s become a unique destination for homeowners, interior designers, and businesses looking for custom furniture and home decor solutions.

Murphy’s commitment to quality and care is reflected in the longevity of its team. Many of the company’s artisans have been there for over 25 years, ensuring that each and every project benefits from years of craftsmanship and expertise.

Almost 100 years since its start, Murphy’s continues to thrive in Greensboro’s small, urban community. Whether you’re looking to reupholster a cherished piece of furniture or add a unique touch of style to your home, Murphy’s Upholstery & Design is a trusted destination for all your design needs.

COLLIER PACE MD

A childhood arm injury inspired Dr. Collier Pace, MD, to see reconstructive surgery from a patient’s perspective, motivating him to open Greensboro Plastic Surgery in 2023. Offering a full spectrum of plastic and reconstructive surgery services, Dr. Pace focuses on aesthetic surgery for the face and body as well as nonsurgical procedures, such as injectables and skin treatments. His goal? Making a difference in his patients’ lives.

“Surgery is one of the most definitive ways to impact another person’s well-being in a positive manner,” explains Pace. And, in his line of work, that impact is almost always readily visible to both him and his patients, which he finds particularly rewarding.

As the sole physician at Greensboro Plastic Surgery, Dr. Pace is one of the few board certified plastic and reconstructive surgeons serving the area. He and his staff of three pride themselves on offering highly personalized care, tailoring the practice to suit clients’ needs. “Our patients see the same familiar faces every time they visit,” says Dr. Pace. These close, personal connections make it easier to work with patients and establish individualized treatment plans.

Dr. Pace credits his parents for his success. He and his wife, MaryEllen, a board certified urologist at Alliance Urology, are parents to two active kids, Merritt, 7, and Channing, 4.

802 Green Valley Road

Greensboro, NC

336-600-5258

greensboroplasticsurgery.com

Ashley Meredith has built an impressive and experienced real estate team with a strong foundation of success. With over 50 years of combined experience and several prestigious accolades, including the Chairman Circle Diamond Award and recognition as one of America’s Best Real Estate Professionals 2024, this dynamic group is wellversed in the industry.

The team’s ranking as No. 8 for residential units out of 55,000 Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices (BHHS) agents nationally and No. 14 for small teams in North Carolina for Transaction Sides is a remarkable achievement that speaks to its members’ expertise and dedication.

The Ashley Meredith Homes team prioritizes giving back to the community through volunteering for and supporting local organizations. The group’s contributions to

a city that maintains an intimate, small-town feel while abounding with cultural events and great food help them stay deeply connected to the area they serve.

DASHA CHUBE STUDIO MANAGER

Fred Astaire Dance Studios-Greensboro is led by Dasha Chube, a passionate studio manager originally from Kharkiv, Ukraine. Chube began her competitive dance career at age 6, gaining firsthand experience of the transformative benefits of ballroom dancing. After retiring from professional dance, she joined New York City’s Fred Astaire Dance Studios in 2004 to share her love for dance and its positive impact on people’s lives.

Fred Astaire Dance Studios, founded in 1947 by the legendary Fred Astaire, with Charles and Chester Casanave, is known for its individualized approach to dance instruction. The Greensboro location, which opened in 2005 by Sasha Tsyhankov and Alosha Anatoliy, is consistently ranked among the top two Fred Astaire studios nationwide. The staff, with 11 out of 15 members hailing from Ukraine, is a close-knit team committed to creating a welcoming, inclusive environment for all students.

Chube’s goal is to foster a supportive dance community where everyone feels accepted and empowered. As a certified professional dancer and teacher, she believes in the power of dance to improve well-being, relationships and quality of life. Her leadership has transformed the Fred Astaire Dance Studio into a welcoming space where individuals of all ages and backgrounds—singles, couples, children, adults and seniors — experience joy through movement.

RON JOHNSON

PROFESSIONAL ADVISORS COMMITTEE & LEGACY SOCIETY

Ron Johnson is a dedicated philanthropist and legal professional who serves on the Community Foundation of Greater Greensboro’s Professional Advisors Committee. In this role, he helps promote charitable giving across the community by highlighting the benefits of meaningful philanthropy through the Foundation. Johnson is also a proud member of the Foundation’s Legacy Society, a group of donors who have included gifts in their estate plans, ensuring long-term funding for community needs. Recently, he was honored with the Foundation’s inaugural Philanthropic Leadership Award for his exceptional commitment to both professional and personal philanthropy.

At his full-time job as a special counsel in estate planning at Carruthers & Roth, P.A., Johnson brings over 50 years of experience to his clients. His legal expertise has extended to supporting numerous nonprofit organizations, including the Women’s Aid, Planned Parenthood of Greensboro, Triad Health Project, Guilford Green Foundation and Hospice Foundation.

Outside of the office, Johnson enjoys reading and maintaining an active lifestyle. To unwind, he and his partner of 33 years, Bill Roane, escape to their Smith Mountain Lake retreat in Virginia. Johnson’s deeprooted commitment to community service and his extensive legal longevity make him a respected figure in both the professional and philanthropic communities of Greensboro.

EDDIE & JOAN BASS PENNYBYRN RESIDENTS

Blissfully married for 62 years, Eddie and Joan Bass moved to Pennybyrn in 2018, seeking a vibrant community that could offer both comfort and opportunity for continued engagement. Pennybyrn, a life plan community in the heart of the Piedmont Triad, provides a full continuum of care, from independent living to skilled nursing, all set on a breathtaking 71-acre campus. Settled in a spacious cottage, Eddie and Joan are able to reap the benefits of the community’s amenities and maintain a rich social life.

Both Eddie and Joan retired from careers in education. Joan was a schoolteacher and a former president of the Guilford County Association of Educators, while Eddie holds a PhD in music and taught at UNCG, where he chaired the composition program. His greatest professional achievement was a composition commissioned for UNCG’s contribution to Greensboro’s bicentennial celebration.

Pennybyrn supports Eddie and Joan to remain active community members and they continue to express their love for music by singing in the nearby St. Mary’s Episcopal Church choir. Plus, opportunity abounds on campus, where Eddie’s served on both the Residents Council and the Grounds Committee. Additionally, he participates in the Pennybyrn Players, the community’s acting group, and sings with the Pennybyrn Chorale. Eddie and Joan are proud parents to three daughters and four grandchildren.

JILL STARCEVICH OWNER

Jill Starcevich is a compassionate leader with a deep, personal commitment to improving the home-care industry. BrightStar Care of Greensboro and Winston-Salem, owned by Jill and her husband, Todd, was born from her own family’s experiences, making her mission-driven in a unique way. After witnessing her mother balance career, family and caregiving for her father, who lost his battle to ALS at 57, Jill understands firsthand the challenges families face when seeking reliable, compassionate care. For Jill, BrightStar is not just a business, but a calling.

With a multi-faceted background in healthcare, Jill found her passion in BrightStar, which allows her to drive meaningful change while supporting her community. The agency follows a nurse-led model, offering a full spectrum of care, from companion care and 24/7 assistance to skilled nursing that includes specialty infusions, wound care and medication management. Plus, clients have access to around-the-clock nurses. Recently, BrightStar expanded to Winston-Salem, now offering in-home physical and

occupational therapies, while the Greensboro office doubles as a training center for staff to gain specialized skills.

Jill’s commitment and compassion extend beyond healthcare — she’s fostered 23 dogs in four years with the support of family and staff. Jill and Todd have two sons, a horse, three dogs and three chickens. She values strong connections with both her clients and team. Success, she believes, is rooted in their collective strength.

STEVE & JANICE GINGHER CHEF/OWNER/CO-OWNER

The Sage Mule, founded by Greensboro native Steve Gingher and wife Janice in 2019, recently celebrated its five-year anniversary, a milestone they credit to the immense support from the community. Drawing from their extensive experience in culinary arts, hospitality and restaurant management, and entrepreneurship, the couple created a space where guests feel at home while being treated to elevated, yet unassuming, food. With a strong creative drive and a passion for quality service, they craft each dish from scratch, using locally sourced ingredients whenever possible.

The Gingher’s commitment to quality extends well beyond the kitchen. Their 25-person team is dedicated to providing excellent service, ensuring that every customer who walks through their door feels like family. Recognizing the challenges of the restaurant industry, Steve and Janice prioritize a work-life balance for themselves and their

employees, reflected in their decision to close on Mondays and Tuesdays and limit service hours from 8 a.m.–2 p.m.

As parents to Conrad, 6, and Cora, 4, they value time with their family while building a business that serves their community. At The Sage Mule, now a beloved part of Greensboro’s dining scene, Steve and Janice look forward to continuing that service for many years to come.

SHELLEY GREGORY OWNER/LICENSED COSMETOLOGIST

Amethyst Headspa, founded in May 2024 by Shelley Gregory, is Greensboro’s premier destination for luxurious head spa services. As a licensed cosmetologist, Shelley was inspired to bring a unique and relaxing experience to the area — one where clients could escape daily stresses and indulge in personalized care. Specializing in hair and scalp treatments, as well as microchanneling for skin and hair, Amethyst Headspa focuses on relaxation and rejuvenation.

the balance between city life and nature, spending her free time exploring local restaurants, sipping a cup of kava, visiting MidTown’s dog park, line dancing or taking leisurely walks through downtown Greensboro. She’s also a proud mom to Jonathan and Nathan.

At Amethyst Headspa, every visit is more than just a treatment — it’s an experience to leave you feeling your best

The first of its kind in Greensboro, Amethyst Headspa offers a multi-sensory journey with each visit. Clients are treated not just to a service, but to a pampering escape designed to refresh both mind and body. As the sole provider of all treatments, Shelley creates a peaceful environment where every detail is tailored to ensure relaxation is at the forefront.

How does the relaxation expert unwind? Shelley enjoys

2915 Battleground Avenue Suite M, Greensboro, NC 336-230-3253

amethystheadspa.com

WOMEN BUILD GIVING SOCIETY

The Women Build Giving Society, launched in 2024 by Habitat Greensboro, unites women leaders from across the community to champion safe, stable and affordable housing for local families. As caregivers and changemakers, this group of purpose-driven ladies recognizes the barriers many women face in achieving homeownership, serving as a call-to-action for those ready to create lasting change.

Members of the Women Build Giving Society collaborate to sponsor and build homes for families in need while connecting through quarterly networking and volunteer events. Beyond their hands-on contributions, members serve as ambassadors for Habitat’s annual Women Build Month in March and are key supporters of the signature Blueprints and Bubbly event in September.

With exclusive benefits such as recognition, newsletters featuring homeowner stories and opportunities to work alongside other purpose-driven changemakers, this initiative celebrates the power of women to transform communities. Habitat Greensboro encourages all women

committed to making a difference to join this inspiring effort. When women work together, homes, communities and hope are built, all for a brighter future.

habitatgreensboro.org/women-build-giving-society

NATHAN CASHWELL OWNER

In 2015, Nathan Cashwell established Five Star Painting of Greensboro after purchasing a home that needed numerous home improvement projects and discovering the various hassles of finding reliable home service companies. Born and raised in Greensboro, he envisioned a company that utilized his design and construction background while employing his personal core values: honesty, integrity and professional quality. The result? A Triad-based company committed to giving its clients an exceptional experience.

From free on-site consultations to complete project management to the Five Star walk-through at the end, Nathan and his team of experienced professionals bring a deeper wealth of knowledge than any other painting company in the Triad. Their consultative processes and streamlined systems combine top-of-the-line customer service, professional execution and precise performance,

resulting in a project that requires minimal time, effort or stress for the client and resulting in a beautiful and enduring finished product. “Whether residential or commercial, we help our clients solve the problems they have, plan for a successful project, make their vision a reality and execute the project so they can focus on more important things.”

Nathan is from a local family with deep roots in Greensboro and the Triad since the 1970’s and in NC for many generations. As one of six siblings and a large extended family, the Cashwell clan is known to have a great time when they get together. Nathan loves to spend time with his wife, Kristi, and their dog, Niko, and they volunteer with the Guilford County Animal Shelter. Nathan also enjoys spending time outdoors, as well as – you guessed it – completing projects around the house.

806 Green Valley Road, Suite 200, Greensboro, NC 336-210-5918

CHAD & NADINE SUTCLIFFE LOCAL OWNERS

A desire to own their own business and serve the local community inspired Chad and Nadine Suctliffe to open Kitchen Tune-Up. Recently launched in December 2024, the company provides kitchen remodeling services to update, upgrade, and uplift kitchens and cabinetry while providing an amazing experience.

Kitchen Tune-Up is a franchise system with over three decades as an industry leader in home improvement with locations across the US and Canada, and the Sutcliffe’s are thrilled to bring the indemand services to their neighbors in Greensboro and surrounding communities. Remodeling options include cabinet refacing, redooring and cabinet painting — all great ways to completely transform a kitchen without the need for demolition. The ‘Original Tune-Up’ is a one-day service to repair and restore existing wood cabinetry, along with custom cabinetry, countertops, organizers and accessories.

As parents to twin boys Peter and Robert, and daughter Victoria, Chad and Nadine enjoy traveling, hiking and getting outdoors. After living in Charlotte then Tampa, Fla., the Tar Heel State’s climate, mountains, beaches and wildlife called them back. They settled on Greensboro, where they enjoy the small-town feel, strong community support, school systems and family-friendly environment.

As homeowners, they know there’s a difference between mediocre and outstanding work — and that it has a tremendous effect on the kitchen, the heart and soul of the home.

Greensboro, NC 336-860-9584

kitchentuneup.com

LADIES CLOTHING,

Leigh Anne Church, Nicole Scallon

Ashley Nassar Weeks, Sally Cartwright, Susan Rumley

Leigh Anne Church, Nicole Scallon

Mona Marzouk Carissa Tighe

Tamia Wynn

GreenScene

United Way of Greater Greensboro Handbags for Hope Grandover Resort & Spa October 28, 2024

Photographs by Betsy Blake

GreenScene

OHenry Author Series: Team W

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Badassery Baldashery

Take our word for it

By Cynthia a dams

Surprising myself, an anachronistic Southernism popped out of my mouth. “Well, I Suwannee,” I murmured, before promptly clapping a hand over my mouth.

I Suwanee — once a euphemism for “I swear” in polite company — sounded positively silly, mincing and antiquated.

rhymes with dumbass, which is also in Merriam-Webster.)

Life is not all farts and giggles (the title of an actual podcast, which probably made another sex advice columnist rich), so let’s not dwell on the details of badassery. So, be forewarned; the title is a spoiler, giving away the gist of Sincero’s message: You (the astute reader) Are a Badass (discerning enough to buy said slender book.)

Job done!

But by the afternoon, I learned just how antiquated it was, given Merriam-Webster’s pronouncement. Among “new” words (are they ever exactly new?) just added into the dictionary’s lexicon was “badassery.”

B-b-but badassery?

Which just demands you jump up, find a dictionary and go straight to the letter “B,” forefinger tracing the page. (Remember when a dictionary and a thesaurus were on every writer’s desk?) No need. There it was online, the first usage given as “the state or condition of being a badass: a badass quality or character.” The second usage referenced “actions or behaviors characteristic of a badass.”

Did we need this broken down for us?

As for actions or behaviors,“badassery” is not a word I would have dared use in front of my mannerly Southern Mama.

Seems K. Nunn, a California born novelist/surfer who may or may not live Down Under at this writing, may have coined the word in 1992 — beating sex advice columnist Jen Sincero to the punch.

Fast forward to 2013.

That year, Sincero’s self-help book, You Are a Badass, published with flabbergasting hoopla.

This begs the question, what was happening in 2013? Was no one publishing that year? Actually, quite a lot of hits come to mind, including Gone Girl, Fifty Shades of Gray and a Dan Brown blockbuster.

But Sincero’s slim volume of nothing-new-here badassery went on to sell 5 million copies, scaling to the top of The New York Times bestseller list — making her a Badass for the Ages, having sold 27 rather uninspired micro chapters heavy on graphics. The school bus yellow cover even made it into the gift book section of Grandma-friendly retailers (such as Soft Surroundings) and spawned a slew of novelties.

Badass novelties included a paperweight-sized button that literally says “You Are a Badass” and affirmation cards. (Badass

The author has since become a life coach, dispensing badass guidance to one and all.

Yet the day held more surprises. Sincero’s reach was far and, frankly, impressive.

Before quitting time, an attention-getting item slid into my inbox from the scientific blog Nature Briefing, a nerdy digest of scientific breakthroughs.

Molecular biologist Gary Ruvkun gave his favorite nematode a shoutout as “badass.” Seems a lowly, yet much-studied “badass” worm inspired four (potentially more) Nobel Prizes.

“No one ever thought to use that term for a worm,” he mused wonderingly. Not before Ruvkun!

He not only asserted the worm’s badassery; he did so — and I quote — “before the Nobel-stinking-Prize.”

Nobel-stinking-Prize? That Ruvkun made sure the worm, the first animal to have its genome deciphered by geneticists, got its due when he clenched the medal. Oh, dear readers, if only to have heard Ruvkun’s acceptance speech!

I returned to Merriam-Webster, seeking inspiration for future Nobel-stinking-Prizes.

Yawningly familiar terms like “true crime” or “beach read” hardly seemed worthy.

And “nepo baby,” a newly admitted term, is at least as old as Rupert Murdoch, Goldie Hawn’s kids, the Kardashian clan and fictional nepo babies in Succession.

But, embedded in metaphorical weeds, there were some MW surprises.

“Touch grass” referenced interacting with the real-versus virtual -world. Ditto for “shadow ban” another social media reference synonymous with “stealth banning” or “ghost banning,” which might quicken the pulse of a Russian troller.

But my eyelid twitched at “dungeon crawler.” You won’t catch me using that one! Nor “shadow ban.” And assuredly not “badassery.”

Even if it costs me a Nobel-stinking-Prize.

I Suwannee. OH