From the Editor

Mar y Best

Editor

mar y@ohenr ymag.com It is the first mild day of March: Each minut e sweet er th an before … T here is a blessing in the air — William Wordswor th

March can be a fick le month, but hav ing g row n up in the 1960s and 1970s in r ura l Guilford Count y, March brought the promise of hope to my family.

W hile snow and ice still were probabilities, something about my father shif ted dur ing the year’s third month. Subtle, never theless unmistak able.

He began mak ing lists and outlines of the vegetables he planned to plant in our garden. Even though the temperat ure of ten was chilly, he spent time sur vey ing his plot.

It wasn’t a huge spot behind our house, but it was large enough to be bountif ul. My four siblings and I spent time tilling, fer tilizing, planting, car ing for, har vesting and, fina lly, consuming or canning — and had a g rand time. Under my father’s g uidance, we shared w ith our neighbors the vegetables we g rew — str ing beans, crowder peas, cucumbers, peppers, squash, tomatoes and more.

A s my father’s garden flour ished, so did our understanding of him.

Bor n in a tiny communit y a long the Pamlico Sound in the 1920s, my dad developed an appreciation for and the impor tance of satisf y ing one of the most basic needs of sur v iva l — nour ishment.

T he youngest of nine children, my father spent his early years close to my g randmother while my g randfather and four older uncles fished. In that remote, w indswept coasta l fishing v illage — and under my g randmother’s gentle yet watchf ul eye — he lear ned to cook, care for relatives and f r iends, develop a love of poetr y, and cultivate a garden. T he Great Depression brought hardship, and what once had been the family's successf ul, statew ide seafood business lang uished.

A nd then, in 1943, the U.S. A r my “inv ited ” my father to ser ve. In 1944, he marched f rom France to Berlin. W hen he wasn’t in combat, he cooked, prepar ing mea ls for hung r y, scared and of ten wounded young soldiers.

My father ret ur ned home in 1946, and af ter a dif ficult time adjusting to peacetime A mer ica, in 1947, he entered college, ear ned a bachelor’s deg ree, moved to Stokesda le, met my mother and became a beloved school pr incipa l — while raising five children.

Heroes define and shape our lives. He was — and a lways w ill be — my mentor, best f r iend, shelter, protector. A nd, yes, my hero. OH