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LUXURY
LUXURY
10 Village Green Road, Pinehurst
$2,989,999 5 bed • 4/2 bath
Emily Hewson (910) 315-3324 Pamela O’Hara (910) 315-3093
Original schoolhouse on 1st fairway of #2 golf course. Totally renovated. Enclave blends tradition with luxury amenities. Garage apartment.
Frank Sessoms (910) 639-3099
Extraordinary waterfront lifestyle. Amazing view of Otter Pond at Pinehurst National #9. 5826 sqft heated. PCC charter membership.
MLS 204344
Marie O’Brien (910) 528-5669 MLS 204625
New listing in Pinewild CC. Golf Front home situated on the 14th hole of the Holly golf course. 3 bedroom, 3/1 bathroom, 3 car garage. Living room with fireplace, glassed-in porch. .91 acre lot.
4 Kenwood Court Lot 1602, Pinehurst
$160,000 Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 203422
Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523
LUXURY
250 E McCaskill Road, Pinehurst
$785,000
Emily Hewson (910) 315-3324 Pamela O’Hara (910) 315-3093
Price Improvement! Casual sophistication & timeless style are the hallmarks of this gracefully presented home in the prestigious gated, Forest Creek. 3 bedrooms, 3/1 baths. Potential for another bedroom to be built above the garage. Expansive outdoor living on multiple lots.
Prime Old Town location. 2.23 commercial acres next to Pinehurst Brewery. Located on McCaskill and Magnolia roads. Zoned VMU — Village mixed use.
32 Edinburgh Lane, Pinehurst
$650,000
4 bed • 4/1 bath
Beautifully custom built home in Pinewild Country Club on over an acre.
Cathy Breeden (910) 639-0433 MLS Coming Soon
LUXURY
73 Abbottsford Drive, Pinehurst 3 bed • 3/1 bath
3 bed • 3/1 bath
MLS 203384
MLS 198787
LUXURY
$570,000
BHHSPRG.COM
LUXURY
30 Royal Dublin Downs, Pinehurst 4 bed • 5/1 bath
$1,495,000
MLS 182223
LUXURY
$1,300,000
14 Cumberland Drive, Pinehurst
Golf front on approximately .34 acres overlooking the 11th fairway on North at Forest Creek Golf Club. A Tom Fazio designed course.
90 Plantation Drive, Southern Pines
$515,000
5 bed • 4 bath
Pamela O’Hara (910) 315-3093 MLS 204734
Beautiful golf front property in Mid South Club with membership. Granite countertops, wood floors, screen porch, patio and outdoor fireplace.
106 Haddington Drive, Pinehurst
$125,000 Jackie Ross (904) 613-4480 MLS 204435
Perfectly located between the main gate and the clubhouse for convenience. This 2.19 acre lot is the perfect place to build your custom home. This large lot offers privacy and views of the 12th hole of the South Course. Membership is not a requirement.
103 Forest Creek Drive, I, Pinehurst
$419,000 Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 204121
Your very own pied-à-terre in the cradle of America’s golf! Suite I has great views of the water on 9 South. Tom Fazio designed courses. This suite is per for a getaway. An approved Forest Creek membership is a requirement of owning a clubhouse suite.
612 McLendon Hills, West End
Coming Soon
4 bed • 4 bath
Debbie Darby (910) 783-5193
Custom waterfront in McLendon Hills on 1.5 Acres. 3800 sqft. 4 bedrooms, 4 baths. Private dock, workroom, storage galore. Single with lower level. Coming soon in April 2021.
MLS Coming Soon
Pinehurst • 42 Chinquapin Road, Pinehurst, NC 28374 • 910 -295 - 5504 | Southern Pines • 167 Beverly Lane, Southern Pines, NC 28387 • 910-692-2635 ©2021 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC.
April ���� DEPARTMENTS
15 20 23 25 27 33 35 39 43 47 51 55 57 60 65 67 71
Simple Life By Jim Dodson PinePitch Good Natured By Karen Frye The Omnivorous Reader By D.G. Martin Bookshelf Hometown By Bill Fields The Creators of N.C. By Wiley Cash In the Spirit By Tony Cross The Kitchen Garden By Jan Leitschuh Home by Design By Cynthia Adams Weekend Away By Jason Oliver Nixon Out of the Blue By Deborah Salomon Pleasures of Life Dept. By Tom Allen Sandhills Photo Club Birdwatch By Susan Campbell The Naturalist By Todd Pusser Golftown Journal
FEATURES 77 Beige Wall Telephone, 1960s Poetry By Michael McFee
78 Cedarcrest in Bloom
By Claudia Watson A free-spirited and romantic escape
84 All in the Family
By Bill Case Pinehurst’s Fownes family left an enduring legacy in golf
90 The Suitable Suitors Fiction by Tony Rothwell And a dancing bear
94 Return of the Native
By Deborah Salomon Speaking fluent mid-century modernism
107 Almanac
By Ashley Wahl cover photograph and photograph this page by John Gessner
By Lee Pace
108 127 128
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Arts & Entertainment Calendar PineNeedler By Mart Dickerson Southwords By Renee Whitmore
PineStraw
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Opulence of Southern Pines and DUXIANA at The Mews, 280 NW Broad Street, Downtown Southern Pines, NC 910.692.2744
at Village District, 400 Daniels Street, Raleigh, NC 919.467.1781
at Sawgrass Village, 310 Front Street Suite 815 Ponte Vedra Beach, FL 32082 904.834.7280
www.OpulenceOfSouthernPines.com Serving the Carolinas & More for Over 20 Years – Financing Available
Talent, Technology & Teamwork! Moore County’s Most Trusted Real Estate Team!
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PINEHURST • $375,000
PINEHURST • $440,000
PINEHURST • $439,000
9 LAKE SIDE COURT Beautiful WATERFRONT lot on Lake Pinehurst. Gently sloping wooded lot that offers spectacular big water views facing south!
20 JUNIPER CREEK BLVD Amazing 4 BR / 3.5 BA custom home in popular #6. Bright and open layout w/special touches and features throughout!
375 OAKMONT CIRCLE Impeccably maintained 3 BR / 2 Full BA and 2 Half BA single level home in prime location. Home has flowing layout and is less than a mile from the historic Village of Pinehurst.
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PINEHURST •$475,000
SOUTHERN PINES • $365,000
11 LAKE SIDE COURT Beautiful WATERFRONT lot situated perfectly on Lake Pinehurst! Gently sloping wooded lot in quiet location w/great orientation facing south.
14 LINTON COURT Charming 3 BR / 2.5 BA golf front home nestled in a quiet cul-de-sac and situated on second green and third tee of Magnolia course.
107 W. CHELSEA COURT Lovely 3 BR / 3 BA townhome in the private community of Mid South Club. Nice layout and gorgeous kitchen.
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PINEHURST • $315,000
13 DEVON DRIVE Stunning 3 BR / 2.5 BA home situated on 16th fairway of Pinewild’s Magnolia course. Many special features and upgrades inside and out.
PINEHURST • 387,500
1 E. FUR COURT Immaculate 4 BR / 2.5 BA home in great location! Nice open floorplan w/covered back porch overlooking spacious backyard.
18 KINBUCK COURT Custom contemporary 3 BR / 2 BA home located in Pinewild CC. Home is single-level and has been beautifully renovated!
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IN MOORE COUNTY REAL ESTATE FOR OVER 20 YEARS!
Luxury Properties Moore County’s Most Trusted Real Estate Team!
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PINEHURST • $660,000 23 STONEYKIRK DRIVE Amazingly beautiful 4 BR / 3.5 BA WATERFRONT home w/lots of curb appeal and overlooks picturesque Lake Pinewild.
PINEHURST • $785,000
PINEHURST • $540,000
20 WALNUT CREEK ROAD Custom 5 BR / 4.5 BA home w/over 5500 sq.ft of luxury living. Located in desirable Fairwoods on #7 this home offers open layout w/pool and patio in large backyard.
29 GREYABBEY DRIVE Elegant all-brick 4 BR / 3.5 BA home situated on 8th fairway of the Magnolia course in Pinewild. Bright open floorplan and great views of the course.
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PINEHURST • $749,000
PINEHURST • $582,000
24 POMEROY DRIVE Delightful 3 BR / 3.5 BA custom home situated off the first tee of the ever popular Holly course in beautiful Pinewild.
31 ABBOTTSFORD DRIVE Custom 4 BR / 4 BA new construction in popular Pinewild CC. Amazingly beautiful interior w/ hardwood flooring and carpeting throughout.
29 NORTHAM COURT Stunning 4 BR / 3.5 BA secluded estate w/lovely views of the 16th green of the Holly course and other beautiful golf views.
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SOUTHERN PINES • $685,000
PINEHURST • $675,000
60 BEL AIR DRIVE Beautiful brick home on corner lot in desirable CCNC community. Bright, open floorplan w/ great touches and fine detail throughout. 3 BR / 2.5 BA
120 EAGLE POINT LANE Exquisite 3 BR / 3.5 BA French country style home in Mid South Club. Floorplan is spacious w/gourmet kitchen and gorgeous views.
115 BLUE ROAD Whimsical 4 BR / 4.5 BA home in the Village of Pinehurst – truly a special property. Lots of living space and space for entertaining.
Re/Max Prime Properties, 5 Chinquapin Rd., Pinehurst, NC 910-295-7100 • 800-214-9007 • Re/Max Prime Properties 5 Chinquapin Rd., Pinehurst, NC
www.ThEGENTRYTEAM.COM
• 910-295-7100
The Long View
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M A G A Z I N E Volume 17, No. 4 David Woronoff, Publisher Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director andie@thepilot.com
Jim Moriarty, Editor
jjmpinestraw@gmail.com
Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer alyssamagazines@gmail.com
Lauren M. Coffey, Graphic Designer laurenmagazines@gmail.com
CONTRIBUTING EDITORS
Jim Dodson, Editor Emeritus Deborah Salomon, Staff Writer
CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS
John Gessner, Laura Gingerich, Tim Sayer
CONTRIBUTORS Cynthia Adams, Jenna Biter, Harry Blair, Tom Bryant, Susan Campbell, Bill Case, Mallory Cash, Wiley Cash, Tony Cross, Brianna Rolfe Cunningham, Mart Dickerson, Bill Fields, Laurel Holden, Sara King, Jan Leitschuh, Meridith Martens, D.G. Martin, Jason Oliver Nixon, Mary Novitsky, Lee Pace, Todd Pusser, Joyce Reehling, Scott Sheffield, Stephen E. Smith, Angie Tally, Kimberly Taws, Daniel Wallace, Ashley Wahl, Claudia Watson, Renee Whitmore ADVERTISING SALES
Ginny Trigg, Advertising Director 910.693.2481 • ginny@thepilot.com
33 Elkton Drive • Pinehurst This Forest Creek golf course residence offers luxury and drama in a home balanced with inviting, livable spaces. Soaring ceiling heights and double height windows offer dramatic views of the lake and golf course. The luxurious master suite is ideally located on the main floor. The ground floor hosts a series of game rooms and a theater, perfect for children, guests and family living. A sweeping stairwell flanked by a baby grand piano leads to the second floor library offering another dramatic lake view. A cluster of guest bedrooms on the second floor are accessed by a back stairway linked to the kitchen, breakfast room and family room. This area is serviced by the house’s second laundry room. Main floor highlights include a screened porch near the breakfast room and a deck that sweeps across the living room facade. The home also offers three garage spaces and a winding stone water feature in the backyard. Grand but comfortable perfectly describes this exceptional home. Built in 2006 with 6859 square feet. Offered at $1,925,000.
To view more photos, take a virtual tour or schedule a showing, go to:
Maureen Clark
www.clarkpropertiesnc.com
when experience matters
Pinehurst • Southern Pines BHHS Pinehurst Realty Group • 910.315.1080 ©2015 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of American, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC.
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Jennie Acklin, 910.693.2515 Samantha Cunningham, 910.693.2505 Terry Hartsell, 910.693.2513 Erika Leap, 910.693.2514 ADVERTISING COORDINATOR
Emily Jolly • pilotads@thepilot.com
ADVERTISING GRAPHIC DESIGN
Mechelle Butler, Scott Yancey
PS Steve Anderson, Finance Director 910.693.2497 Darlene Stark, Circulation Director 910.693.2488 SUBSCRIPTIONS
910.693.2488 OWNERS
Jack Andrews, Frank Daniels Jr., Frank Daniels III, Lee Dirks, David Woronoff 145 W. Pennsylvania Avenue, Southern Pines, NC 28387 www.pinestrawmag.com ©Copyright 2021. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. PineStraw magazine is published by The Pilot LLC
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Build Your Dream Home at Forest Creek Golf Club Chestertown Drive Overlooking 4th Hole South Course
It’s time to build in Forest Creek on one of the many choice Colony 9 lots still available at this prestigious Golf Club. The McCauley family, seized the opportunity. Their home, under construction, and pictured above on Chestertown Drive is built on two golf front lots with a stunning view of the Tom Fazio South Course. There are many dynamic Colony 9 lots to choose from: 11 Cumberland is a lovely corner location with a second lot to combine, $135,000, 13 Cumberland Drive $135,000. 33 Chestertown captures Fazio’s 3rd and 4th Holes in all their glory at $175,000 and 13 Elkton Drive is a coveted water and golf front location for $375,000. 106 Haddington is a spacious 2.19 acre with a view of 12th Hole, South Course, $125,000. In one of the most dramatically beautiful spots in the club, there are the 4 premier golf front opportunities: 36 and 40 Ridgeland at $175,000 each and 54 and 56 Ridgeland for $260,00 each. These golf front lots represent unrivaled quality and opportunity.
Maureen Clark
910.315.1080 • www.clarkproperties.com
205 Crest Road • Southern Pines
Classic Colonial Revival in Knollwood Heights, built in 1930 on 2 acres, 6700 sq ft with 5 BR, 5.5 BA and attached 2 car garage. Highlights include fireplaces in living, dining, master and Carolina room, original hardwoods, and large backyard pool. Offered at $995,000
123 Pinefield Court • Southern Pines Built in 2006, this 6580 sq ft residence on 8 acres includes 5 BR, 6.5 BA, theater room, billiard room, open living plan, wine cellar, 3 car garage and outdoor kitchen. Gated privacy. Offered at $1,900,000
451 Old Mail Road • Southern Pines
The jewel of Moore County’s horse country, Fox Hollow Farm is secluded on 10.52 acreswith easy access to thousands of acres of equestrian land. 4BR, 4.5BA, 5,276 sq ft. New Price $1,950,000
129 Chanticleer • Pinehurst
129 Chanticleer is a French country cottage designed by Mark Parsons in presifious Forest Creek Golf Club. The popular Wellsummer design is available for $579,000 with a March 2022 completion date. This is the last cottage for sale in Chanticleer.
Berkshire Hathaway HomeSercies and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.Housing Opportunity.
TEAMWORK Coming together is the beginning. Keeping together is progress. Working together is success.
THE ONLY LIMITATION IS YOUR IMAGINATION
BRICKWORK
STONEWORK
FIREPLACES
OUTDOOR LIVING
910-944-0878
www.howellsmasonry.com 10327 Hwy 211 • Aberdeen, NC 28315
SIMPLE LIFE
My Wife’s Secret Life And why I’m happily married, blissfully in the dark
By Jim Dodson
I recently discovered that my wife, Wendy, enjoys a secret life.
Actually, I’ve known about it for years. I just never let her know that I knew about it. It’s also possible that she’s always known that I know about it (and has chosen to keep that a secret, too). Either way, the woman is a master at keeping her husband happily married and blissfully in the dark. Consider the high drama of our recent unplanned kitchen makeover. One evening last spring, our fancy German dishwasher blew up like the Hindenburg and flooded the kitchen of the charming midcentury bungalow we’ve spent the last five years faithfully restoring. I suggested we move to Scotland. Within days, however, Wendy had rallied a small army of specialists with industrial driers, fans and blueprints for a complete renovation. Curiously, they all seemed to know my wife by her first name. Though I’m hardly the suspicious type, such fraternal bonhomie did make me momentarily wonder if Dame Wendy might have a private, second career as a kitchen subcontractor and home makeover artist. One of her not-so-secret pleasures, after all, are the makeover programs playing around the clock on HGTV, brick-and-mortar dramas where — in the span of 45 minutes — unspeakably decrepit houses are transformed into suburban show palaces by clever couples who make witty remarks about shiplap and infinity tubs. Not that I’m the jealous type, but my bride speaks so casually about home-rehab hosts Joanna and Chip Gaines or the dorky Property Brothers or that sweet, folksy couple redoing the entire town of Laurel, Mississippi, it’s as if she actually knows them. And I can almost picture The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
the Good Bones gals whispering sweet nothings about rare Victorian beadboard or vintage crown molding in Dame Wendy’s wise conchlike ear. Unlike the unreality of these home makeovers, our massive kitchen “reno” took nearly a year to complete, including endless delays due to COVID-19. We upgraded the subflooring, wiring and plumbing; installed a beautiful Tuscan tile floor; searched two counties for new granite counters; and outfitted the entire kitchen with new appliances. We also ordered so many takeout meals that I considered moonlighting for Grubhub. I’ll confess, there were moments when I had beguiling dreams of misty Scotland — specifically a rather fetching one in which I am rowing a dinghy across Loch Lomond with a provocatively dressed (and pre-crazy) Kim Basinger sitting in the bow. Strictly between us, I have no idea what this dream could mean. But I’m not dinghy enough to tell my wife about it because she’ll know exactly what it means, and I really don’t want to spoil the surprise if Kim and I ever reach the other side of the loch. Besides, doesn’t a bloke deserve a few healthy secrets of his own? Sadly, I don’t have many others. Unless you count the fantasy about being the first man in history to ride his John Deere lawn tractor across America. Of course, that dream died when Wendy sold my tractor at a yard sale in Maine right before we moved to Carolina. She claims there was no room for it on the moving truck, meaning I couldn’t at least drive it home to the South and make a few bucks mowing lawns along the way. I recently heard a top marriage specialist on the radio insist that the secret to a long and happy marriage is “not having too many secrets, but enough to keep a marriage interesting.” The specialist, a female psychologist, didn’t specify how many secrets keep a marriage interesting, or conversely, how many keep a marriage from collapsing like a $2 beach chair. Fact is, I am perfectly happy operating on a strictly “need-to-know” basis. She knows that what I don’t know won’t hurt me, which may be PineStraw
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SIMPLE LIFE
the key to our own long and happy marriage. Besides, we have an enviable distribution of domestic duties and responsibilities. Wendy runs the house, pays the bills, makes most of the important decisions and never fails to find my missing eyeglasses/wallet/car keys or TV remote when it’s clear some thoughtless nitwit has mistakenly put them somewhere just to make me go crazy. Suffice it to say, I know my proper place in our happy domestic realm, outside in the yard quietly missing my beloved John Deere lawn tractor. On an entirely separate front, I have no idea how much money I earn from my so-called literary career. I simply put together words that amuse me, send them off to editors I’ve never met who (sometimes) like and (eventually) pay me real folding money for them. It’s a sweet mystery how this magic happens. I frankly never know my precise material worth, year to year, but I assure you it’s no mystery to Dame Wendy how much money I make — or am due — down to the last farthing. Home and family, however, are where Wendy’s secret life truly excels. Our four fully grown and theoretically independent children constantly call up from faraway places to share their endless existential crises or ask her advice on all manner of discreet topics, confiding things they wouldn’t dream of telling the old man, whom they only call when they need more farthings to cover the rent.
But that’s OK with the old man in question. The older he gets, the less he knows and the happier he is. For it’s all about perspective — i.e. my wife’s clever design for our happily married life. One final example shall suffice. The other afternoon, I popped into the house from trying to start up my walk-behind mower for the first lawn-cutting of the spring and discovered that my multitasking domestic Chief Executive was putting the final touches on our brand new fully renovated kitchen in a manner most unusual. She’d just assembled an elaborate rolling cart she’d ordered from some chic West Coast design house and was dancing rumba-like to South African reggae music as she decorated Easter cookies for neighborhood kids. “I’m thinking of painting the den a lovely new green for the spring,” she blithely announced, sashaying past me. “It’s called Mountain Air. What do you think?” As our elegant new dishwasher purred away, she waved the sample color on her smart phone, which isn’t remotely as smart as she is but probably a good deal smarter than her husband. After 20 years of happy marriage, I’m no April fool. I simply told her that I loved it and headed back to my stubborn lawn mower, secretly dreaming about Kim Basinger riding a John Deere tractor through the misty Scottish Highlands. PS Jim Dodson can be reached at jim@thepilot.com.
Lin gets Results! toP 1 % of Moore Country reaLtors toP 1 % of u.s. reaLtors
ENERGY. EXPERIENCE. EFFORT. WWW.LINHUTAFF.COM
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Lin Hutaff’s PineHurst reaLty GrouP Village of Pinehurst | 910.528.6427 | linhutaff@pinehurst.net The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
If Pinehurst has it, Lin can get it for you! Go to LinHutaff. com UN
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14 GREYABBEY DRIVE • PINEWILD Offered at $795,000.
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315 N BEULAH HILL ROAD • OLD TOWN Offered at $1,250,000.
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10 GREENCASTLE DRIVE • NATIONAL Offered at $425,000.
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16 BARONS DRIVE • PINEWILD Offered at $635,000.
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10 RAVENEL CT • MIDDLETON PLACE Offered at $349,000.
215 INVERRARY ROAD • FAIRWOODS ON 7
4 AUGUSTA WAY • PINEHURST
Private Estate on over 4 acres within the gates of Fairwoods on 7, a gated Community on the Pinehurst Country Club grounds. Surrounded by 1000 feet of Golf frontage, gracious grounds, extensive covered porches. Gorgeous home with panoramic views.
Private Estate steps from OLD TOWN with spectacular grounds in the Donald Ross area. Terraced back yard flows to large Pond with total privacy. Character and charm abound in this Southern Country home with handsome “hunt room’ and cozy wine cellar.
ENERGY. EXPERIENCE. EFFORT.
Lin Hutaff’s PineHurst reaLty GrouP Village of Pinehurst | 910.528.6427 | linhutaff@pinehurst.net
Always a Step Ahead
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Serving Moore County and Surrounding Areas! 910.684.8674 | 120 N ASHE ST | SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28387
www.maisonteam.com
Walter Newton®
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PinePitch
TRUST BUT VERIFY: As our communities deal with the challenges presented by the novel coronavirus, please be aware that events may have been postponed, rescheduled or existed only in our dreams. Check before attending.
Authors in the Virtual House Join The Country Bookshop for back-to-back, free virtual events featuring Kelly Mustian, the author of The Girls in the Stilt House, on April 5 at 7 p.m.; and Natalie Standiford, the author of Astrid Sees All, on April 6 at 7 p.m. For information and tickets go to www.ticketmesandhills.com.
Charity on the Hoof The auction of the Painted Ponies that have graced the streets of Southern Pines for over a month will be held live and online at www.eventgives.com/painted ponies on Saturday, April 3 from 5:00 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. All proceeds benefit the Carolina Horse Park Foundation. For more information go to www.carolinahorsepark.com.
Art on Display The work of local artist Jude Winkley will be on exhibit in a show titled “All That Jazz,” beginning with a reception on Friday, April 2, from 5 to 7 p.m., at the Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. For information call (910) 944-3979.
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Hitting the High Notes A victim of the Year of Covid, the Moore County Choral Society hasn’t been able to hold a concert since the virus invaded the Sandhills. Its commitments — including the annual scholarship given to a local, budding musician — don’t stop, however, so the society whose catch phrase is “may you always have a song” has organized an online fundraising auction from April 21 to 26 at www.biddingowl.com/moorecountychoralsociety. There will be wines, antiques, rounds of golf, restaurant meals, paintings, crafts, gift baskets, home services, limited-edition prints and much, much more on offer, and all for a good cause. With any luck, the Moore County Choral Society’s Holiday Concert will return in December. In the meantime, bid like crazy. For additional information go to moorecountychoralsociety.org The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Return of the Shaw House The Moore County Historical Association’s Shaw House grounds and properties will reopen for tours beginning Thursday, April 8, from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m. The gift shop containing unique items including books about Moore County’s history, vintage soaps and framed, pressed flowers will also be open. Tours will continue through April 30. Masks are required indoors. Please call the Historical Association in advance at (910) 692-2051 to book tours.
Showy Chapeaux Wear you finest hats, cocktail dresses and seersucker suits for the live stream of the Kentucky Derby at the St. John Paul II Catholic School Derby Gala on Saturday, May 1, from 5:30 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. at the Pinehurst Country Club, 1 Carolina Vista Drive. There will be an open bar, sit-down dinner, music and a silent auction. Tickets are $125 at ticketmesandhills.com.
Dig This
Given to Go Elliott’s on Linden and the Given Memorial Library and Tufts Archives are partnering for a Given to Go fundraiser on Tuesday, April 13, featuring smokehouse brisket, buttermilk mashed potatoes, a vegetable medley and dessert. Tickets are $22 and can be purchased by calling the Tufts Archives at (910) 295-3642 or emailing giventufts@gmail.com. Meal pickup times are 5:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. at the Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst.
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
The Pinehurst Garden Club will hold its annual plant sale fundraiser, including favorites like geraniums, vincas and begonias, on Sunday, April 18, from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., at the Green Haven Nursery, 255 Green Haven Lane, Carthage. For more information call (910) 4208214 or go to www.pinehurstgardenclub.com.
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Are you thinking about selling your home? Are you interested in buying a home? Are you looking to grow your real estate career? Whatever you’re in the market for, we are
With You All The Way (910) 693-3300 | HomesCBA.com @LaroseCompany
@CBAofthepines
@CBAofthepines
130 Turner Street, Southern Pines | 100 Magnolia Road, Pinehurst | 455 SE Broad Street, Southern Pines
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
G O O D NAT U R E D
Apricot Power A little tart and a little sweet
By Karen Frye n apricot-a-day may replace the apple-a-day theory. A little tart and a little sweet, they’re high in nutrients such as potassium and vitamins A and C. They’re also rich in fiber. Apricots are loaded with antioxidant flavonoids. In fact, just a handful can neutralize the free radicals that damage cells in the body. Apricots contain the nutrients lutein and zeaxanthin — found in the retina, macula and lens of the eye — and help keep your eyes healthy. The apricot ranks low on the glycemic index, so they’re OK for most folks with sugar imbalances. The vitamins A and E in the apricot build collagen, keeping your skin healthy, and protecting it against sun damage. Fresh apricots are seasonal, and the best ones come from California. Dried apricots are easier to find year-round and have all the same benefits as the fresh ones — just make sure to get the ones without sulphur. While fresh apricots are delicious, you can also make an apricot puree by cooking them in some boiling water for 10-15 minutes, then putting them in the food processor. You can add the puree to oatmeal, yogurt, or eat a few spoonfuls a day. Before you throw away that pit in the center of the apricot, take a second to remove the seed and eat that, too. The apricot kernel contains a very nutritious substance called amygdalin, commonly known as B17. It’s naturally occurring in many fruits, vegetables, nuts, seeds and grains. Apricot kernels contain abundant amounts of amygdalin. The apricot kernels themselves are slightly bitter, but I find them delicious. It is possible to find some sweeter seeds, but the B17 is greatest in the bitter ones. The California variety has the highest potency and are the bitterest. There is a small endocrine gland, the pineal gland, located in the center of the brain at about eye level. It looks like an eye and even has tissues and fluids much like our eyes. René Descartes believed the pineal gland was the “principal seat of the soul.” It produces melatonin, the hormone that induces sleep. While apricots help keep the pineal gland healthy, it calcifies as we age. Some people find that taking a melatonin supplement about an hour before bedtime helps to induce sleep. Eating apricots and their seeds may also lower blood pressure, reduce pain from inflammation, and aid the immune system. Maybe an apricot a day will keep the doctor away. PS Karen Frye is the owner and founder of Nature’s Own and teaches yoga at the Bikram Yoga Studio.
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THE OMNIVOROUS READER
Thriller Triumph An evil character spices a Carolina plot
By D.G. Martin
Do you remember Hannibal Lecter, the
psychotic doctor played by Anthony Hopkins in the film The Silence of the Lambs? Lecter was a brilliant but evil serial killer who dined on his victims. We may have been horrified by Lecter, but we were mesmerized, too. Some publishers tell their authors that such over-the-top evil characters like Lecter can make a good story even better. Kathy Reichs, one of North Carolina’s most successful crime fiction writers, uses the salt of just such an evil character to season her most recent book, A Conspiracy of Bones. In this 19th novel by the Charlotte-based and New York Times bestselling author, Reichs introduces Nick Body, who delivers conspiracy theories on a popular podcast. Reichs is not new to designing intriguing evil characters. Her series of Temperance Brennan novels was the basis of the long running Bones television series. Brennan, like Reichs, is a brilliant forensic anthropologist. She uses her dead body-examining skills to solve complicated crimes perpetrated by her evil characters. Nick Body’s ability to stir up his listeners reminds us of the late Rush Limbaugh, though Body goes to a whole other extreme. He kidnaps children and then stirs up his podcast listeners, who pay money to access his program and buy the products he offers that, supposedly, arm them against the coming violence. Here is how Reichs sums up her character’s alarmist con games: “Over the past decade, Body has been particularly vehement on two themes. Plots involving kids. Plots involving medical wrongdoing. Occasionally, his insane theories managed to combine both elements. Many of Body’s harangues focused on disease. Over and over, he returned to the theme of government conspiracy. “A sampling: He claims that the Ebola epidemic in West Africa was a biological weapons test performed by America. That SARS was a germ attack against the Chinese. That AIDS was created and distributed by those in power in the U.S. That the anthrax attacks following 9/11 were orchestrated by the government. That banning DDT was a scheme to depopulate the Earth by spreading malaria. That Huntington’s disease is caused by a microbe and the government is conspiring to suppress a known cure. And, my personal favorite, that chemtrails are responsible for mad cow outbreaks.
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“There were numerous variations on the evils of vaccination.” She continued, “In the old triedand-true, Body alleged that vaccination causes autism. In a somewhat more creative twist, he argued that Bill Gates was behind the plot to use immunization for population control. In another series of tirades, he insisted that the government was sneaking RFID chips into children via inoculation.” Reichs has Brennan figure out Body’s deadly schemes and bring him down, though the beginning of the story seemingly has nothing to do with the evil podcaster. What gets Brennan’s attention is a mutilated, unidentified body found in rural Cleveland County and sent to the medical examiner in Charlotte for identification. The fictional Charlotte-Mecklenburg medical examiner, Dr. Margot Heavner, and Brennan have a long-standing and bitter rivalry. So Heavner does not ask Brennan to assist in the official identification process. Brennan is miffed and decides to conduct her own investigation. With the help of old friends in law enforcement, she tracks down multiple leads in Cleveland County, WinstonSalem (an ashram), Mooresville, Tega Cay near Charlotte, and all over Charlotte from Myers Park to Central Avenue and modest developments in west Charlotte. At every stop Brennan and Reichs teach readers lessons in science and technology. They show how good law enforcement can use such learning to track down leads and bring the bad guys to justice. In the end, Brennan connects Body to crimes that go far beyond his conspiracy theory exploitations. Even more satisfying for Brennan, her superior work results in putting a negative spotlight on Dr. Heavner, who has to leave her job in disgrace. All this gives us hope that the next fictional CharlotteMecklenburg medical examiner will value Brennan and put her great skills to work. PS D.G. Martin hosts North Carolina Bookwatch Sunday at 3:30 p.m. and Tuesday at 5 p.m. on UNC-T V. The program also airs on the North Carolina Channel Tuesday at 8 p.m. PineStraw
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BOOKSHELF
April Books FICTION Astrid Sees All, by Natalie Standiford Set in New York City in the 1980s, two young girls arrive after college. Carmen is a native New Yorker with connections, confidence and charisma, while Phoebe is from Baltimore, enamored with Carmen, and desperate to find her place in the city, its art scene and the underground. She lands a job at a club as Astrid, who reads fortunes from movie ticket stubs. All the while, a serial killer stalks the city, and girls are disappearing. Astrid Sees All has a fabulously seedy vibe: music, fashion, art, drugs, danger and sex. The Girls in the Stilt House, by Kelly Mustian The Natchez Trace in Mississippi is a place that is deep, verdant, and ripe with stories and secrets. It is also a place where, in the 1920s, many scratched out an existence through sharecropping, bootlegging, trapping, fishing and hard labor during a time of racism, segregation and social disparity. In Mustian’s magnificent novel, mostly written at Weymouth, a violent act inexorably binds the lives of two teenage girls of different races. They struggle to survive, harbor their secrets, and protect those dear to them as their individual stories unfold. Readers will be held in this novel’s grasp from start to finish, experiencing the power and sensitivity provided by a great new voice in literary fiction. Gold Diggers, by Sanjena Sathian In a marvelous marriage of coming of age, magical realism, immigration, ambition and history, Gold Diggers is a blazingly brilliant novel stretching from the East Coast to the West Coast. Neeraj is an awkward young Indian American teen. Anita is his neighbor and childhood friend. With the help of her mother’s family recipe of an alchemical solution derived from stolen gold, the two are given powers of achievement and abilities to reach their previously unattainable goals and the thoughtprovoking consequences that follow them for years to come. The Last Bookshop in London, by Madeline Martin August 1939: London prepares for war as Hitler’s forces sweep across Europe. Grace Bennett has always dreamed of moving to the city, but the bunkers and blackout curtains that she finds on her arrival were not what she expected. And she certainly never imagined she’d wind up working at Primrose Hill, a dusty old bookshop nestled in the heart of London. Through blackouts and air raids as the Blitz intensifies, Grace discovers the power of storytelling to unite her community in ways she never dreamed — a force that triumphs over the darkest nights of the war. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
The Elephant of Belfast, by S. Kirk Walsh Inspired by true events, this vivid and moving story of Hettie, a young woman zookeeper, and Violet, the elephant she’s compelled to protect through the German blitz of Belfast during WWII, speaks to not only the tragedy of the times, but also to the ongoing sectarian tensions that still exist in Northern Ireland. Dodging the debris and carnage of the Luftwaffe attack, Hettie runs to the zoo to make sure that Violet is unharmed. The harrowing ordeal and ensuing aftermath set the pair on a surprising path that highlights the indelible, singular bond that often brings mankind and animals together during terrifying times. Good Company, by Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney In a follow-up of her bestselling debut novel The Nest, Sweeney explores the strains and deep bonds that mark longtime marriages and friendships. Flora Mancini is a voice actor; her husband, Julian, stars in a cop show. Margot, her best friend since college, is a longtime superstar on a hit TV show, married to a gentle doctor. The women and Julian came up together as students in New York City, scraping to find work in theater and participating in Julian’s small theater company, Good Company. Twenty years later, they all live in Los Angeles, and dote on Flora and Julian’s daughter, Ruby. When Margot stumbles across an envelope containing her husband’s wedding ring — the one he claims he lost one summer when Ruby was 5 — all of their lives are upended. The Drowning Kind, by Jennifer McMahon From the New York Times bestselling author of The Invited and The Winter People comes a chilling new novel about a woman who returns to the old family home after her sister mysteriously drowns in its swimming pool . . . but she’s not the pool’s only victim. A haunting, twisty and compulsively readable thrill ride from the author Chris Bohjalian has dubbed the “literary descendant of Shirley Jackson,” The Drowning Kind is a modern-day ghost story that illuminates how the past is never really far behind us. NONFICTION World Travel: An Irreverent Guide, by Anthony Bourdain and Laurie Woolever A guide to some of the world’s most interesting places, as seen and experienced by writer, television host and relentlessly curious traveler, the late Anthony Bourdain. In World Travel, a life of experience is collected into an entertaining, practical, fun and frank PineStraw
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travel guide that gives readers an introduction to some of his favorite places — in his own words. It features his essential advice on how to get there, what to eat, where to stay and, in some cases, what to avoid. Supplementing Bourdain’s words are a handful of essays by friends, colleagues and family that tell even deeper stories about a place, including sardonic accounts of traveling with Bourdain by his brother, Chris, and a guide to Chicago’s best cheap eats by legendary music producer Steve Albini. Broken Horses, by Brandi Carlile The critically acclaimed singer-songwriter, producer and five-time Grammy winner opens up about a life shaped by music in this candid, heartfelt, intimate story. Though imperfect in every way, her dysfunctional childhood was as beautiful as it was strange, and as nurturing as it was difficult as her musically gifted but impoverished family moved 14 times in 14 years. Carlile takes readers through the events of her life that shaped her very raw art — from her start to her first break opening for the Dave Matthews Band, to sleepless tours over 15 years and six studio albums while raising two children with her wife and, ultimately, to the Grammy stage where she converted millions of viewers into instant fans. CHILDREN’S BOOKS
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More Than Fluff, by Madeline Valentine Cute, adorable, fluffy Daisy duck just can’t take it anymore. Everyone wants to HUG her, and all she wants is for everyone to stay out of her personal bubble. When her subtle hints don’t quite do the trick, Daisy boldly asks her friends for wing bumps, pinky shakes and high-fives. The perfect choice for those kiddos with personal space issues or just someone needing a little “me” time, More Than Fluff gives young readers words to ask for what they need. (Ages 2-5.) The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Spring is the Time for New Beginnings Let Us Help You with Your Next Step!
Beast in Show, by Anna Staniszewski Of course, everyone thinks their pet is the best, but Julia is sure Huxley will win top prizes in the dog show. They arrive to find it’s not an ordinary dog show at all and the talent portion is really out of this world. A wonderful tale of giving your all and doing your best no matter what, Beast in Show is just perfect for anyone who loves someone furry. (Ages 3-6.) G My Name is Girl: A Song of Celebration from Argentina to Zambia, by Dawn Masi A playful celebration of everything girl, G My Name is Girl is also a wonderful worldwide journey and a fun way to honor the characteristics that strong, confident young women possess. Clever parents and grandparents will recognize the format as that of a classic travel game and enjoy sharing the rhyme with a whole new generation. (Ages 3-8.)
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Mars! Earthlings Welcome, by Stacy McAnulty Humor and fun facts bring nonfiction alive for the youngest readers in McAnulty’s Our Universe series. In the newest installment, Mars! Earthlings Welcome, budding scientists learn that Mars may have once had rivers and streams, is Earth’s closest neighbor, and has 37 whole minutes longer in its day than Earth. For classrooms and curious kids (and parents), this series is a great way to learn more about our great big universe. (Ages 4-8.) Peter Easter Frog, by Erin Dealy Who says bunnies should have all the fun? Hippity hoppity Peter the Easter . . . frog is here to help out Easter Bunny any way he can. A fun holiday story of kindness, sharing and friends with a few giggle-inducing surprises along the way. (Ages 3-5.) PS Compiled by Kimberly Daniels Taws and Angie Tally.
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HOMETOWN
Map Mysteries Navigating the old-fashioned way
By Bill Fields
On a Golf World assignment in Nebraska
PHOTOGRAPH BY BILL FIELDS
in 2013, I procured something for the first time in many years. Not bubble gum, a baseball glove or bottle of Brut 33. I bought a road map. I had decided, in addition to reporting on the action in the U.S. Senior Open at Omaha Country Club, to see some sand-green golf courses for the first time. There used to be a bunch of them in the Midwest and Southwest; only dozens remained. We were well into the GPS era by then, but as I discovered on my first late afternoon drive to explore the throwback brand of golf, a smartphone wasn’t so smart on the byways of rural Nebraska. The $6.95 map I purchased at a convenience store turned out to be as essential as my cameras and notebook as I drove hundreds of miles around the Cornhusker State. Maps used to be free at gas stations for decades, of course, as anyone who remembers 40 cents a gallon or less is aware. From the 1920s through the 1970s, all the big brands — Esso and Shell, Gulf and Phillips 66 — offered them as a service and promotion. Sometimes an attendant dug them out of a drawer, but often they were in a display between the fan belts and the wiper blades. Put a tiger in your tank . . . and a map in your glove compartment. They were tool and talisman, objects of both utility and aspiration. It wasn’t just about where you were going on this trip but where you might go on the next one if you twisted Dad’s arm just right. A highway map was a neat 4 inches by 8 inches in its pristine state. Unfolded, the 16 panels would cover a lot of the backseat in the family Fairlane. A friend recently remembered how much of a master his father, an engineer, was in map usage, from pinpointing various routes to putting it away so the creases were like new on the next trip. A map would not age as well in our possession. One trip from Southern Pines to Ocean Drive Beach and it would be rumpled and guaranteed to contain Toast Chee cracker crumbs and Salem ashes the next time it was put into action, perhaps accompanied by a line drawn in Magic Marker from the Sandhills to the shore. (When you got to Loris, South Carolina, you knew you were close.)
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
It was all there on the map, the size of towns and cities delineated by font and type size. As the state capital, Raleigh got boldface and all caps. Greensboro was bigger than Lexington, which was bigger than Thomasville. You knew Southern Pines had a bigger population than Vass. Hoffman, Candor and Tramway? Tiny places all. Ours was a North Carolina/South Carolina map family because we rarely ventured out of the two states. But this edition, regardless of which gasoline brand distributed it, still provided for a bit of dreaming. The mileage chart always included Atlanta, a whopping 350 miles from Southern Pines. And there was some extra territory on the map’s edges: a tiny strip of Virginia, containing Danville; a wedge of Georgia denoting Augusta and Athens; a sliver of Tennessee showing Bristol, Johnson City and Kingsport. Also, on the Volunteer State portion, on the outskirts of green-shaded Smoky Mountains National Park, Gatlinburg. My father was a let’s-get-there kind of guy, especially if home was the destination. He once set out from High Point to Southern Pines during a heavy snowfall, convinced it wasn’t that bad. I got a call that evening in my freshman dorm room at college from the Holiday Inn in Asheboro, where my parents were lodging because the roads were impassable. After an early 1970s trip to Nashville to visit relatives, “Gatlinburg” became code for Dad’s road ways. Traveling east after our visit, my mother and I pestered him about stopping in Gatlinburg. It would be great, we assured him. He grudgingly relented and made the detour so we could see the wonders of this mountain town he thought was a tourist trap with little redeeming value. Dad wasn’t always right, but he was right this time. Gatlinburg was all trinket shops. It was hard to find a parking spot. The miniature golf course was poor and crowded. We didn’t stay long. Dad got out the map, took a long look, passed it back to me for folding, lit a cigarette and put the car in gear. We would visit other spots on the map, names in both bold and light type, but as for Gatlinburg, it was definitely one and done. PS Southern Pines native Bill Fields, who writes about golf and other things, moved north in 1986 but hasn’t lost his accent. PineStraw
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T H E C R E AT O R S O F N. C .
Every Moment is a Window
Through his art, Richard Wilson bridges the gap between then and now
By Wiley Cash Photographs By Mallory Cash
Spend some time with visual
artist Richard Wilson’s work, and you’ll quickly grasp the role historical connection plays in it.
Take his Shadow Series, for example. In each painting, an African American boy or girl stands in the foreground, the background comprised of images of an African American trailblazer. In one piece, a girl in a leather bomber jacket blocks the sun from her eyes and stares toward the horizon, as if searching for a sign of what’s to come; behind her is an assemblage of newspaper stories and photographs of Bessie Coleman, the first African American woman to hold a pilot’s license. Another shows a young boy in oversized boxing gloves gazing up at a speed bag that’s just out of reach; behind him, a newspaper announces that Jack Johnson has defeated James Jeffries to become the 1910 heavyweight champion of the world, the first African American to win the title. Other luminaries such as Arthur Ashe, Serena Williams, The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Michael Jordan and Barack Obama are featured in the series, each a guiding light for the young dreamer standing “in the shadow.” To the viewer, it’s clear that ancestors and aspiration are powerfully present in Wilson’s artwork. And if you spend any time with the artist himself, you’ll understand that ancestors and aspiration are powerfully present in his own life. The oldest of three boys, Wilson was born in Robersonville (Martin County) and moved with his family to Conetoe (pronounced Kuh-nee-tuh), another rural town in Eastern North Carolina, when he was 8. He grew up surrounded by family — siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles. They were close-knit. Today, Wilson is standing in the middle of his art studio in Greenville, N.C., where he and his wife have lived for just over 20 years. The walls around him are festooned with his original works and ribbons from national art shows; the floor cluttered with framed prints and works-in-progress. Wilson, a tall man who looks like a linebacker yet comports himself like a poet, admits that he has nearly outgrown the space that he built himself. On the wall opposite him is a framed original painting titled A Window Into the PineStraw
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T H E C R E AT O R S O F N. C .
Past, in which an older African American man with a cane is picking his way across a field to a weathered two-story farmhouse. The man in the painting is Wilson’s uncle. The home, which has since been demolished, once belonged to Wilson’s paternal grandmother, Francis Wilson Knight, lovingly known to everyone — family or otherwise — as Grandma Pigaboot. “Every weekend we’d go to my grandmother’s house,” Wilson says, gesturing toward the painting. “All the children and grandchildren. That was the highlight of my week. My uncle, who was a sharecropper, would cook on the grill. We’d all play kickball and softball. I can still smell the rain on the dirt, the trees — pears and pecans. It was a beautiful life.” He sighs and his broad shoulders slump forward slightly. “But when my grandmother passed away, we all stopped going back there, and we just lost that connection.” Although Wilson’s work is nothing if not realistic, each piece contains elements of symbolism that could be lost on the casual viewer. In the painting of Grandma Pigaboot’s house, the electrical service entrance — where the home had once been connected to a power line — is frayed and disconnected. That’s exactly how Richard Wilson felt in
2020, a year that saw a pandemic cripple the globe and political and cultural turmoil seize the heart and soul of the nation. Wilson used his art to reconnect with his family, his community and the landscape that once brought him so much joy. Although he had featured his grandmother’s house in previous works, last year he found himself wanting to paint it again, and this time he wanted to include a family member. He called up his Uncle Bill and asked if he could come take some photographs of him. Uncle Bill happily obliged. It had been a while since they’d seen each other. “We started talking about old times,” Wilson says, “and he started posing for me, and I started taking pictures of him. We had a great time.” But Wilson wanted to keep their reunion a secret. “I told him, ‘Don’t tell your children I’m doing this painting,’” says Wilson. “I wanted to put it on Facebook to see if they recognized the house and recognized that their father was in the painting.” Imagine Wilson’s delight when, after posting the finished painting online, Uncle Bill’s youngest daughter wrote this: Hey, cuz, I really like this piece. It reminds me of back in the day, and the man in the picture reminds me of my pops.
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T H E C R E AT O R S O F N. C .
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Comments from other cousins followed, each expressing tender sentiments. “And then they started buying prints,” Wilson says, supporting him at a time when art shows had been canceled due to COVID. “It brought us all back together.” Of course, the house in the painting represents much more than just a place. Wilson’s grandmother bequeathed him a legacy that highlights the importance of family, faith, land and self-reliance — all of which Wilson has made use of throughout his path to becoming a full-time artist against incredible odds. “My grandmother took us around and made sure that she introduced us to all of our family members,” Wilson says. “She was adamant about that, about knowing who your people are.” He stops speaking and smiles as if a memory is playing through his mind. “She also taught us how to be entrepreneurs. We used to turn in Coke bottles and get cash for them, and then we’d turn around and buy candy and sell it. Or we’d make Kool-Aid and turn it into freeze cups, and then we’d sell those.” She also taught Wilson and his siblings and cousins how to make use of the land by taking them fishing and teaching them how to sew gardens. And she instilled the importance of faith in their lives by ensuring that they accompanied her to church. Richard Wilson has won countless awards for his art, which has been featured in television shows and films, showcased in public and private collections and purchased by the likes of the late Hank Aaron and Gladys Knight. Those early lessons from his grandmother have allowed him to turn a childhood spark of inspiration into the passionate flame that fuels his work. His Shadows Series makes that clear. But Richard Wilson acknowledges that not everyone is as lucky to have had the family and influences he’s had. Yet that’s the great thing about forging a connection with people you love. “If you didn’t have it then,” he says, “you can start it now.” One could say the same about living your dream. PS Wiley Cash is the writer-in-residence at the University of North Carolina-Asheville. His new novel, When Ghosts Come Home, will be released this year. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Spring Breaks Loose
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IN THE SPIRIT
Respect
Staying humble and giving credit where it's due
By Tony Cross
I reminisce
PHOTOGRAPH BY TONY CROSS
from time to time about my days — or nights — as a bar manager and the thrill I got creating a new cocktail menu. I constantly challenged myself to make each menu better than the last. To some, that might mean simply mixing a better tasting cocktail.
Making great-tasting drinks was definitely an end goal, but there was more to it than that. Our ABC system limited what I could play with, spirit- and liqueur-wise. What may have been available in the spring could be unavailable in the fall, and vice-versa. At the time, I usually had to order by the case. Like Tony Shaloub says on Monk, it was a blessing and a curse. The first time I placed an order for a case of Rittenhouse Rye it was a blessing — our establishment was the first in Moore County to get this great-priced rye whiskey. We crushed sales and, within the month, I needed more. After ordering a truckload of cases, our local ABC decided Rittenhouse Rye deserved a place on their shelves. On the other hand, there was a case of the Luxardo Maraschino
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
liqueur that sat on our shelf so long it could have grown a beard. When I ordered it I was still learning the ropes and failed to realize that a little bit went a long way — it was going to take a while to go through 12 bottles. Then it dawned on me to take another bartender’s cocktail recipe with said ingredient (that I now possessed by the boatload) and put that drink on my menu. It would showcase two things: the spirits and liqueurs that I was still learning about (I had nobody to bounce ideas off, so you can imagine how long that would take.) while incorporating them into a cocktail that was already a winner. It also highlighted the bartenders Naked and Famous and the bars that I read and obsessed about daily. I noted on the menu next to the ingredients who created it, when and where they worked. Not only did this pay homage to the bartender, but it was always a great conversation piece for my guests. Here are a few of the cocktails I put on my menu, and the bartenders who created them.
Cubed Old Fashioned Jamie Boudreau, Canon, Seattle, 2011 Jamie Boudreau was one of a few people I watched on a YouTube channel named “Small Screen Network.” His video clips were short and always to the point. Everything from what type PineStraw
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IN THE SPIRIT
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of ice you should use and why, to how to shake and stir. In addition to technique, Boudreau had videos on how to make cocktails: barrel-aging, smoking cocktails, carbonating and, one of his signature drinks, the Cubed Old Fashioned. He used three different types of spirits and three different types of bitters. In addition to this spin on the classic old fashioned cocktail, Boudreau also created what he calls an old fashioned syrup, using whiskey, Angostura bitters and demerara sugar. He opened up Canon: Whiskey and Bitters Emporium in the same year that this cocktail was created. When I put it on the menu, it was the first time I worked with a cocktail that was a spin on the classic old fashioned and it was the first time I used Maker’s Mark 46. Boudreau’s original recipe called for equal parts Maker’s 46, Mount Gay Extra Old Rum, and Rémy Martin. It gave me the opportunity to share this new spirit with my guests. Cubed Old Fashioned 3/4 ounce cognac 3/4 ounce rye 3/4 ounce aged rum 1/4 ounce old fashioned syrup 1 dash each aromatic, orange and chocolate bitters Orange zest Cherry Combine all liquid ingredients in a chilled mixing glass filled with ice. Stir until proper dilution is achieved, and strain into a rocks glass over ice. Garnish with orange zest and a cherry.
Naked and Famous Joaquín Simó, Death & Co. NYC, 2011
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When Death & Co. released their Modern Classic Cocktails in 2014, I couldn’t keep my nose out of it. Loaded with much more than cocktail recipes, this was the best bartender’s manual available — at least I thought so. As for this particular cocktail, the folks over at Death & Co. describe it as “the bastard child born out of an illicit Oaxacan love affair between the classic The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
IN THE SPIRIT
Last Word and the Paper Plane, a drink Sam Ross created at the West Village bar Little Branch.” I was sold before making it since I love the Last Word. My affinity for green chartreuse cocktails aside, this drink contains mezcal and yellow chartreuse. I was in possession of a rather large order of Del Maguey Vida mezcal prior to getting my hands on this book and I had also just received three bottles of yellow chartreuse. The Vida mezcal was already an ingredient in one of our margaritas, but I wanted to try something else and this was the drink to do it. I wasn’t thrilled the first time tasting yellow chartreuse and was having a hard time incorporating this liqueur into a cocktail. Naked and Famous was fantastic on the first sip. The smokiness from the mezcal is balanced with the soft bitterness of Aperol and the sweeter, less herbaceous taste of the chartreuse. The lime juice adds the acidity that cuts right through the three other ingredients. This was the first time I’d done a riff on the Last Word, and it opened the door in my mind on how and why this works. Most of my staff loved the drink, and it went on our menu immediately. Most folks ordered it because of the name. I guarantee 90 percent of our clientele had no clue what yellow chartreuse was, and if they heard of mezcal, it was “tequila with a worm in the bottle, right?”
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Naked and Famous 3/4 ounce Del Maguey Chichicapa mezcal (I used Del Maguey Vida at the time.) 3/4 ounce yellow chartreuse 3/4 ounce Aperol 3/4 ounce lime juice Combine all ingredients into a cocktail shaker with ice and shake hard. Strain into a chilled cocktail coupe. No garnish needed. PS Tony Cross is a bartender (well, ex-bartender) who runs cocktail catering company Reverie Cocktails in Southern Pines.
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VIRTUAL CONVERSATION
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THE KITCHEN GARDEN
The Cutting Garden
Man does not live by vegetables alone By Jan Leitschuh
What is a kitchen garden but food for
the soul? No need to be a vegetable purist. We can add a few flowers to the mix, rendering the entire process far more soulful.
I’m not talking about interplanting a six-pack of bedding marigolds with your tomato plants for pest control. Although those are nice, the stems of bedding plants are too short for most vases. No, we are dreaming of armloads of garden blossoms for cutting — a true cottage garden profusion. With certain sown flowers, you’ll draw essential pollinators to your kitchen garden and the vases in your house will spill over with colorful blooms. Your yard will pop with floral eye candy and, since many thrive with regular cutting, you will have plenty of extra flowers to surprise and cheer up friends. The quiet joy and pride of place is purely incidental. It usually starts like this: One chilled, sodden January, I stop before a local display of seeds and tubers. Instantly, the colorful reds, yellows, purples, pinks and oranges vanquish the gray day. In my mind, it becomes late June, and along with plucking ripe tomatoes, yellow squash and snap beans, I’m also gathering loads of cut flowers to bring into the house and share with friends. Bees buzz. The sky is blue, the morning breezes soft. More than a few bucks later, I come home with many packets of zinnia, poppy, sweet William and cosmos seed, sacks of candy-colored dahlia, a peony tuber or two and several varieties of caladiums. Come late February to early March, I’m sowing a few trays of my treasures, to get an early start. The remainder will be sown directly in the garden. While some gardeners plant bulbs especially for cutting — early daffodils and Dutch irises and gladioli and lilies — why not keep it super simple? Let’s not over-complicate the process. A few packets of seed may be all you need to cultivate joy this summer. You’ll need some sure-thing Sandhills winners. The suggestions below can be planted directly into your garden. That couldn’t be easier — scratch out a shallow trench, seed lightly, then rake or cover with a sprinkle of soil and pat down for the critical seed-soil contact. Moisten with a gentle spray so that the tiny seeds aren’t disturbed, and water regularly through germination and early growth. Thin or transplant seedlings to the distances stated on
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
the packet, so they have space to develop. For diehard gardeners, a few trays seeded indoors in late February or early March can give you a jump on the season. I like to sow a sixpack of each variety, then seal the rest of the seeds in a plastic bag, for later direct sowing. This lengthens my growing season and spreads out the likelihood of good blooms. Some of my favorites do very well here in the Sandhills, thriving with regular cutting, kicking out more blooms. Here are three can’tmiss flowers:
Glorioso Daisy: Practically foolproof. You may have to order these seeds or obtain from a friend. I haven’t seen them on seed racks yet this year, but they are well worth seeking out, and you can save the seed of your favorite blooms to replant next year. This is a rugged, deer-resistant type of flower with great good cheer, sure to light up an informal summer bouquet. You may also find the seeds under the botanical name rudbeckia hirta. These daisy-like, tetraploid cultivars are larger and showier than their wild cousins. As a sturdier, more eye-catching type of blackeyed Susan, rudbeckia hirta has blooms that may be golden yellow with dark chocolate centers, or a rich red-mahogany, or a bicolor golden with a mahogany base to each petal. Another showy type of rudbeckia hirta is called Irish Eyes. This tall strain produces large, single golden-yellow daisies with a bright green eye and makes an outstanding cut flower. Glorioso daisies also come in doubles. They will bloom through the fall, when their rich autumnal colors add to the season. Deadheading prolongs the bloom season, but gloriosa daisies will re-seed themselves readily. Sow seeds directly in the ground sometime in April. Consider a second planting in May for longest bloom season. If you’ve planted too close for the optimum 12-inch spacing, the seedlings do transplant well when young, especially if moved on a cloudy day and watered in well. Glorioso daisy is fairly drought resistant once established and will produce masses of cheerful blooms. Zinnias: So easy. Again, as simple as seeds come. And the colors! The flower shapes! Possibly my favorite cut flower of all. There are three types of zinnias, so if cutting is your aim, choose well. 1. Short. Avoid these for a cutting garden. You can find potted zinnias at the garden stores in late spring, but most likely they will PineStraw
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THE KITCHEN GARDEN
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be these decorative dwarf types, running under 10 inches or so. You might enjoy these cuties at the front of a flower border, but their stems are too short for good cutting. Some of the common dwarf types are the Thumbelina, Magellan and Dreamland series. They are terrific, long-blooming bedding plants but, again, not very useful for vases and arrangements. 2. Medium. The next type are bushy, landscaping zinnias, up to 20 inches and best for bedding plantings. Look for names like Zahara and Profusion series. 3. Tall. The classic cutting garden zinnia eventually grows skyward, with long, strong stems for vases. You’ll have to start these from seed, most likely, but that is not difficult. Either direct seed into the garden when the soil has warmed — later April or May here — or start some seeds early indoors with plenty of light. By fall, your cutting garden zinnias can be 4-feet tall and will need support. I use a floral net, a kind of open, light string fishnet that steadies growing stems. Your garden center may carry them. You can also corral the patch with some twine and a few stakes. Choosing your colors, shapes and varieties is the most fun, making for a delightful perusal of the catalogs and seed racks. There are spiky cactus types, full dahlia-looking blooms, newer bicolors, and every pastel shade or bold crayon color except blue. (Yes, even green, pale zinnias called Envy or Queen Lime.) Some of my favorites include the Benary Giants (be sure to order a good strong red, and perhaps an orange), Giant Cactus, California Giants, Uproar Rose, Queen Red Lime, Burpeeana Giants, and the 30inch Cupcake series. A good strong white bloomer like Polar Bear adds a poignant accent to a colorful arrangement. Or just buy a packet of mixed colors and be done with it. Cosmos: You remember the movie The Color Purple, don’t you? Those stunning fields of airy, floral glory were cosmos. Another easy seed to sow directly, cosmos comes in purple, white, pinks, lavender, magentas, gold, orange and even a pale lemon. Cosmos tolerates heat, drought (once established) and poor soil. Sounds like a Sandhills flower, yes? The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
THE KITCHEN GARDEN
Cosmos is a worker. Productive plants will produce masses of delicate, colorful beauty. The sizes range from the 18 to 26-inch dwarf, ruffly Apollo series to taller varieties. The Pop Socks series offers interesting shapes, singles and doubles. Both the Sonata and Sensation series are fairly easy to find and are lovely. The red-andwhite striped Velouette is quite striking and can grow 26 to 34 inches. Cups and Saucers, with their fun shapes, can reach to 3 to 4 feet. Bright Lights and Ladybird are the salsa of the cosmos world, spouting hot orange, golden and yellow flowers. Plants get very bushy. They’d appreciate a little extra room to spread out, so space plants 12 to 18 inches apart. Be sure to stake or corral them early, while they are still young. Cosmos also benefit from a technique called pinching, as this will encourage the already highly productive plants to branch even more vigorously. There are many other flowers to include in a seeded cutting garden. Coreopsis, sunflowers, bachelor’s button, larkspur and sweet William are just a few that look lovely in vases and can be grown from seed. But you won’t go wrong in the Sandhills with the easy three above. Don’t forget to water during dry spells, especially when plants are in bloom. Deadhead fading blooms. Carry a clean bucket with a little water out to the garden and cut in the mornings before the sun gets hot. Zinnias, in particular, benefit from a change of water every day or two. They can get a little stinky otherwise. For an arrangement, use what you’ve already got. Slim stems of flowering trees or shrubs, shiny foliage like photinia, hellebore or camellia for filler, sprigs of purple basil. Perennials such as a sweet-smelling phlox, lilies, a peony, a few strands of ivy, perhaps the odd rose could also creep into the bouquet. April showers can bring a little soul to your kitchen garden. May the fleurs be with you! PS Jan Leitschuh is a local gardener, avid eater of fresh produce and co-founder of Sandhills Farm to Table.
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HOME BY DESIGN
Elbow Grease
Because the heart wants what the heart wants By Cynthia Adams
Closing our eyes to our termite-
PHOTOGRAPH COURTESY OF MARIE MARRY ME
riddled garage and a looming bathroom tear-out, we snuggled down by the telly, cuddling our dogs, and watched Escape to the Chateau. It is an ironic choice of escape from our to-do list. The series offers comforting perspective from years of projects in our (almost) century-old home. These two do-it-yourselfers beavering away on an ancient, shuttered, abandoned chateau lend perspective to the months of sweat equity we poured into our own relatively modest abode. This BBC program follows Dick and Angel Strawbridge, a British couple who bought a glorious French “pile” in 2015. Pile is Brit-speak for a very large house. But the French call this a chateau. Larger than Sleeping Beauty ’s Castle (albeit smaller than the Biltmore), the couple ’s picturesque 19th century Château de la MotteHusson is near the quaint village of Martigné-sur-Mayenne. They bought it for what they might pay for an unremarkable two-bedroom flat back in London: £280,000 pounds ($384,000) — a steal. With 45 rooms, twin turrets, an actual moat and walled garden — all poetically set upon 12 acres of pristine countryside — it is a thing of singular beauty.
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
But one problem: this veddy beautiful chateau is in ruins. No running water, heat or electricity. And after the purchase, the Strawbridges are left with an impossibly small budget for the kind of home improvements this pile will require. Yet the couple dauntlessly ascribes to the motto “you eat an elephant one bite at a time” and rolls up their sleeves. The Mister, 59, laughs like Santa and has the belly to match. Meanwhile, the flamboyant and romantically inclined Missus, 40, twists strawberry-red hair into vintage curls and has a passion for red lipstick, arched brows, a hot glue gun, sewing, crafting and decoupage. They are dauntless, energetic, cart-before-the-horse types — we were stunned by what they did with this moldering and long-abandoned property in just one season. Years ago, I fell under the spell of an unusual Lindley Park home. It qualified as a “stockbroker Tudor” given that to afford its steeply pitched rooflines, many gables, brick and stucco features decorated with handsome half-timbers required a stockbroker’s bank account. As is unfortunately true of Tudors, the interiors were sunless. If the kitchen is the soul of a house, this one’s was dark. The property was in a state of beautiful disarray that suggested its former splendor. And I desperately wanted it. Let’s just say, I should have a reality show titled, The Masochistic Homeowner: The Early Years. One of the Tudor’s strangest interior details was a renovation gone PineStraw
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HOME BY DESIGN
wrong, so wrong you had to crawl out of an upstairs window and walk across a flat roof in order to access a room addition carved from an adjacent garage attic. Whereas a smarter person would have viewed that matter alone as a deal breaker, I tried to figure out how to solve this dilemma, sleeplessly fantasizing about owning this home with a beautiful arbor and quirks. Which is why I so relate to Angel Strawbridge — sans her luridly done hair and turban. When the Tudor’s home inspection report arrived, it, like the dour Strawbridge’s chateau analysis, filled a binder. Leaking roof; problematic stucco; electrical and plumbing issues; even a terrifying problem with the fireplace and chimney. If it wasn’t leaking, it was crumbling. If it wasn’t crumbling, it soon would. I wanted it. It took my practical partner to pry my fingers from the binder. My teary-eyed entreaties did not budge my engineer husband from NO to MAYBE. Did I mention that Angel Strawbridge is an enchantress, 19 years younger than Dick? Had she wanted my decaying Tudor pile, her besotted husband would have laughed nervously and followed her lead like a spellbound adolescent. That is not my husband. We did not make a counteroffer on the Tudor. Which, by the way, sold anyway.
Being said about
“
McColl, 85, still plays a pivotal role in making North Carolina a better place. Beyond the Bank makes that crystal clear.” – Business North Carolina
“
Building a great bank has been upgraded to building a better community. (McColl) still has the energy and courage to believe he has much to offer in making the world a better place. What a legacy!” – Harvey Gantt, Charlotte civic leader and former mayor
“
Nothing motivates Hugh McColl more than leading collaborations of strong voices to spark innovative solutions for the challenges of our time.” – Michael Marsicano, president and CEO of the Foundation For The Carolinas
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We found another house. One that had many issues that the inspection did not uncover, and which took all of our savings to salvage. It is the house we now live in and love. This 1929 house renovation followed on the heels of a 1911 reno that was even harder and costlier. Yet, somehow, my husband was as taken as I was by its quietly stoic beauty including its thick windowsills, French doors, beautiful light and park view. We both fell under its spell, even as we toiled. It was possible to bribe my husband into nightly work after our day jobs. He would plaster and paint; I would pick up pizza and bags of Twix bars before joining him. (If we carb-loaded, we could work till midnight, then do it all over again the next day.) Like the Strawbridges, we undertook most of the work ourselves. When the initial cosmetics were done, there was something . . . some indefinable something. As if the house warmly responded to our months of labor. It became a joy to step inside. One day, my husband mused, “the house is smiling.” It liked being rescued from neglect; it reflected back to us the ministrations, the love. No doubt, too, that Angel believes their French chateau is smiling at them having been liberated from decades of grime and neglect. She is most definitely right. PS We agree that contributing writer Cynthia Adams should indeed have her own reality show. Go ahead and add The Masochistic Homeowner to your future Watch List.
ON N I A S LERIL AP
Hugh McColl’s Chapter Two The twenty years Hugh McColl’s spent since stepping down as Bank of America CEO belies the notion that irrelevancy is a part of retirement. This is the story of how McColl, at 85, remains essential in a city that bears his imprint, from building Uptown to investing social capital in all corners of the community. A new book by Howard E. Covington Jr. available online at:
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W E E K E N D A WA Y
Let’s Go to The Greenbrier!
The Madcap gents banish the beige at the legendary West Virginia resort
By Jason Oliver Nixon
The last few weeks of winter
were drab, wet and all-around uninspiring. There was nefarious news on every front, and it felt like Groundhog Day on Elm Street. On eternal repeat.
John and I found ourselves ambling about in our pajamas at all hours of the day. We were lethargic. Our hair was tucked into baseball caps. My beard went untrimmed. And you can only watch Auntie Mame and Bridget Jones’s Diary so many times before you start quoting the lines in your sleep. It was time for a prints-and-patterns intervention. Hence, John and I booked an escape to the one place that always delivers a tip-top, terrific tonic — a balm to all things banal and beige. The Greenbrier! “Hello,” I trilled after ringing up the fabled West Virginia resort. “Any specials? Yes, yes, yes. AARP? Triple-A? Sure. Sign us up. Tout de suite! And patch me through to the spa.” John and I have been lucky enough to visit The Greenbrier — “America’s Resort since 1778” — on various occasions. Each time, the hostelry has more than lived up to its legendary restorative prowess. And no, we don’t attribute the rejuvenation to the area’s mineral-rich waters that have made White Sulphur Springs a destination for generations. It’s not the falconry or the gun clubs either. Although The Greenbrier has something for everyone — from escape rooms to bunker tours, spa treatments to off-roading excursions, golf and tennis to you-name-it — we aren’t really into what you might call “organized activities.” John and I go for The Greenbrier’s Dorothy
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W E E K E N D A WA Y
Draper-designed décor, the riot of color, prints and pattern, and the pure theatricality that is the resort-styled version of The Wizard of Oz. There is nothing like it anywhere — especially since The Greenbrier’s closest twin, the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, has, tragically, been sold (its design future uncertain). A little history . . . Shortly after World War II, the legendary New York-based interiors superstar Dorothy Draper — sort of a midcentury Joanna Gaines but with verve — was commissioned to transform The Greenbrier into a showstopper. The resort had served as a 2,000-bed hospital during the war and needed, well, a bold new vision. Draper, queen of theatrical, was known for design mantras such as “Banish the beige.” She took one look at The Greenbrier’s vaguely institutional architecture and white brick exterior, blinked, then lavished it with enough drama to attract the likes of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor to the grand unveiling. But back to the here and now and the warm embrace of the Greenbrier. “Hello, hello. Bonjour! Yes, we are back. Yes, hello, hello,” I said to the lovely, slightly quizzical folks at check in. “Charge it, please. And which bar is open? Oh, it’s so good to be back.” Our room was awash in cabbage roses, stripes and faux bamboo flourishes with “his” and “his” bathrooms. We couldn’t have been more content staying put, but seeing as we were finally someplace other than Instagram, we wanted to spend every waking moment
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W E E K E N D A WA Y
soaking up all the design exuberance we could handle. Happily, The Greenbrier was largely empty — AARP rates are more favorable mid-week, perhaps? (John handles the cash) — so we could scamper about like feral monkeys in a banana forest with eyes wide and mouths agape. We marveled at the inky green walls in the Victoria Writing Room; the rose-bloom upholstery and black-and-white tile floors in the Upper Lobby; a baroque plaster clock against blue-and-white striped walls; the coral-hued North Parlor; and busts of the presidents delightfully arranged next to the toilets. And that’s just scratching the sublime surface. Dorothy Draper’s protégé, the equally iconic Carleton Varney, a longtime Madcap Cottage friend (he wrote the introduction to our latest book, Prints Charming: Create Absolutely Beautiful Interiors with Prints & Patterns), oversees the décor of The Greenbrier and constantly curates — and refreshes — the content. Notes John, “The Greenbrier is always fresh. Never fussy. Never formal. That’s part of the magic. And there are families with kids. Older folks. New Yorkers. Southerners. And everyone in between.” Our time at the Greenbrier was pure bliss. We dined on superlative Asian fare at In-Fusion (tucked into the glittering, Busby Berkeley-worthy casino). We washed away our cares with a 25-minute Sulphur Soak at the recently overhauled spa. We watched Aladdin in the resort’s movie theater (Hurrah! An open-for-business movie theater); we sipped cocktails in the Lobby Bar; we splashed
about in a pool reminiscent of the Roman Empire; and we walked into White Sulphur Springs where the main drag is definitely on the move. (Think a slew of new restaurants popping up!) But, really, John and I just lolled about with magazines and cocktails. And lapped up the luxe. Then it was back to reality. Still, the hair is washed and the shirt’s tucked in. The beard is trimmed and the socks match. I’d say we are ready to tackle the world anew. At least for a few weeks. Thank you, Greenbrier! Long may you reign. OH The Madcap gents, John Loecke and Jason Oliver Nixon, embrace the new reality of COVID-friendly travel — heaps of road trips. For more information, visit Greenbrier.com.
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OUT OF THE BLUE
Let It Be Over Enough is too much
By Deborah Salomon
Seldom have Richard III’s words rung so true: “Now is the winter of our discontent . . . ”
Carol-less Christmas because singing spreads the virus. Party-less New Year’s Eve. Midnight hugs prohibited. Thanksgiving and Super Bowl Sunday spent with live-in family, forget about chili and party platters. Romantic Valentine’s Day dinners were take-out, including the martinis. No snow, only rain, rain, rain. Cold winter rain owns a special misery. An epic storm brings the Lone Star State to its knees: No heat, no water, burst pipes, dwindling food — almost enough to make Texans forget COVID-19 which, as a result, will surge. In late February, parts of an engine fell off a United Airlines Boeing 777 just after take-off from Denver, bound for Hawaii. The cellphone videos matched the pilot’s shaky voice as he declared, “Mayday, Mayday.” Yet he returned to Denver with all 240 passengers safe. Nothing that dramatic since Capt. “Sully” Sullenberger landed a Charlotte-bound USAirways flight with zero engine power on the Hudson River in 2009. Except now, a new fear of flying — not that anybody much is. Ah, yes, the virus itself, which has crept like mold through . . . everything. The winter just ending was chill, dreary and definitely damp. Never in 12 years have I worn my down parka and cashmere socks as much. My two kitties looked in vain for the sunny spot on the porch to warm their old bones. I remember a few nice days when golfers surfaced without mufflers and knitted caps but even more when the birds seemed especially thankful for their daily ration of shelled sunflower seeds, which in a month doubled in price. Several prominent people died since autumn, notably Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Alex Trebek. Jeopardy! is now a Travesty! The The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
older a person gets, the more he or she muses on passings. I turned 82 in January. But, when push comes to pushover, the deepest discontent remains the November election, with an aftermath that festered, then exploded on Jan. 6, when the Capitol was ravaged by its own citizens. When the actions of a defeated president flabbergasted — there is no other word — and embarrassed Americans expecting at least a modicum of civility. Back to Shakespeare: “Something is rotten in the state of . . . ” not Denmark, as written. Maybe Florida. D.C., for sure. The cherry on top has to be what the Brits are calling Megxit. I knew from her first curtsy that Miss Markle planned to bag her prince and drag him back across the pond. In February, they sealed the deal with a cheeky note to the Queen: Don’t call us, we’ll call you. Being the dressed-to-kill Duchess of Sussex wasn’t enough. What she wanted was to be Queen of Hollywood, living in a seaside mansion more opulent than any British castle — and not half as drafty. So, Harry sold out his granny, his brother and his mother’s legacy for a green card, a year-round tan, tacos on demand, Lipton Orange Pekoe and driving his Range Rover on the right side of the road. But will it last? However, this tragic winter provided one belly laugh: Ted Cruz, with long hair and beard looking the part of an aging matador in search of a bull, pretending to chaperone a bunch of girls to Cancún instead of handing out water to his constituents. If only Jackie Gleason was alive to recreate the part. All things considered, this April I won’t complain about pine pollen, hay fever, awakening day for the ants or new cheek wrinkles the bright spring sun reveals. I’ll try not to dread the summer heat, which will loom large. Because to have survived this winter upright and lucid makes anything seem possible. PS Deborah Salomon is a contributing writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She may be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.
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P L E A S U R E S O F L I F E D E P T.
The First Time I Saw Paris A young man’s trip of a lifetime
By Tom Allen
April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom Holiday tables under the trees April in Paris, this is the feeling No one can ever reprise
In the spring of 1975, I was there. April,
in Paris, though I had never heard Yip Harburg’s lyrics to the hit song composed by Vernon Duke for the 1932 Broadway musical Walk a Little Faster. Wouldn’t have known a chestnut tree if I saw one. But the feeling that “no one can ever reprise?” That, I remember; yet my sojourn to the City of Lights almost didn’t happen. The only foreign language offered at my high school in the ’70s was French. Not a lotta takers. Why I signed up escapes me. Perhaps I thought a language might look good on a college application. By the time I graduated, after three years studying French, I could conjugate verbs, sing a few Christmas songs, and even read a little Victor Hugo. During my junior year, Madame Arnold, our teacher whose slow, Southern drawl made the language easier to hear and understand, organized a weeklong trip for members of our French Club. The trip would take place over Easter break. I wanted to go. More than anything, more than ever, I wanted
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
to go. My parents’ initial response was “no.” It wasn’t the cost as much as the fact I was 16 and had never been out of North Carolina, much less the country. And I’d never flown. My dad was concerned the plane might crash, a carryover from his Army days in Europe 30 years earlier. My mom worried I might wander off, get lost, be kidnapped. My paternal grandmother, who lived next door, shared Dad’s concern. A farm wife who’d never seen the ocean, she questioned why anyone would want to fly across that ocean to someplace where “you can’t understand a word they say.” My maternal grandmother, on the other hand, thought it was a great opportunity: “You can bring me back a bottle of French wine.” I recall pleading for days, a form of manipulation that rarely worked in my family. I would help pay my way, I promised. My meager checking account still had money from summer tobacco work. I think I even cried, just like I cried the year my buddy got a motor scooter for Christmas and I didn’t. Those tears, I recall, were wasted. Eventually, my dad caved. Reluctantly, my mother agreed. One grandmother immediately started praying for safety. The other gave me cash for that bottle of wine. On Easter Monday, five of us, under the watchful eye of Madame Arnold, departed Raleigh-Durham for New York, then an overnight flight to Paris. I savored every moment of the trip, from the plane ride and its preheated meals to the beauty of Paris by night from atop the Eiffel Tower. I was especially proud that I understood the language and happy the French could understand my Southern accent, even when I had to ask, many times,“Parlez plus lentement, s’il vous plaît.” Please speak slower. We visited sites seen only in classroom film strips or 16 mm movies — the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs-Élysées, the beaches of Normandy and Mont Saint-Michel, the Palace of Versailles, and the château of Chambord. I remember the grandeur of Notre Dame, still PineStraw
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heavy with the scent of lilies and incense from Easter Masses, and the taste of éclairs and macaroons from hole-in-the-wall pâtisseries. Our last night in Paris, we attended dinner and a show at the Moulin Rouge, its cabaret and can-can dancers immortalized on canvas by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Only after pages of permission slips our parents had to sign, were we allowed to see the possibly provocative performances, accompanied by a half-glass of champagne with dessert. But the night was less risqué than we imagined, a classy and colorful evening of great food and lots of laughter. When I returned from our grande soirée, I packed the small bottles of perfume and lace handkerchiefs I purchased for my mom and grandmothers, a wallet for my dad, and that bottle of Vouvray for Granny Pate. The only souvenir I bought for myself — my caricature by a street artist in Montmartre. The next day I bid adieu to what had been the trip of my young lifetime. Others would follow — a summer in England during seminary, a honeymoon in Bermuda, a pilgrimage to Israel. But my taste for travel was sparked by that high school journey to République Française, a taste we encouraged in our daughters, both of whom studied abroad during college. My own college days included more French because I simply loved the language. Sadly, I’ve had few opportunities to converse since. Like anything else, use it or lose it. Two occasions in ministry afforded me the opportunity to say the Lord’s Prayer in French. One was a small, private wedding for a lovely couple, the bride and her family from Québec. The other, the funeral of a parishioner, also French-Canadian, a friend with whom I occasionally conversed. The prayer, in the language of his childhood, was his request, and one I was honored to fulfill. Every year, the week before Easter, I visit my parents’ graves. Sometimes I stand in silence, but other times I speak. Words of gratitude are always expressed, for their lives, their love, their generosity. And for the gift of giving into my pleas and sending their only kid to the other side of the world. PS
Tom Allen is minister of education at First Baptist Church, Southern Pines. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Sandhills Photography Club
What’s in the Kitchen?
The Sandhills Photography Club meets the second Monday of each month at 7 p.m. in the theater of the Hannah Marie Bradshaw Activities Center of The O'Neal School at 3300 Airport Road in Pinehurst. Visit www.sandhillsphotoclub.org.
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3rd Place: Shari Dutton - Creme Brulee 1st Place: Jacques Wood - Best Cheesecake Ever
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TIER 2
1st Place: Dale Jennings - Farm to Table
1st HM: Bonny Henderson - Life is Just a Bowl
2nd Place: Diane McKay - A Prisoner’s Meal
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B I R D WA T C H
Ruby Ready
Ladies and gentlemen, start your feeders
By Susan Campbell
It’s that time,
PHOTOGRAPH BY WILL STUART
folks! North Carolina’s smallest bird, those winged jewels that have spent the winter in the tropics, are now headed back our way. Ruby-throated hummingbirds will be returning to gardens and feeders by mid-April. So, it’s time to get ready!
First and foremost, in spite of what you may have heard, these tiny dynamos are mainly insectivorous. Bugs of all kinds make up the majority of their diet. Anything small enough to fit down the hatch will be consumed throughout the day — followed up by a nectar chaser every now and then. Therefore, it is critical to be judicious year-round in your use of pesticides and herbicides, so that the invertebrates hummingbirds depend on will thrive. Consider planting for your hummers. There is a wide array of plants that are easy to grow that will get the birds’ attention. The best are obviously native species such as trumpet creeper, coral honeysuckle, cardinal flower, bee balm, columbine and even butterfly weed. There are loads of non-native perennials that are a wonderful (and not invasive) addition to your hum-garden, like many of the salvias, Mexican sunflower, sultan’s turban and lantanas. Do not be surprised if you see a hummer hovering around the vegetable garden when your okra starts to bloom or your basil goes to seed. Keep in mind that the thicker the vegetation is in your yard, the buggier it will tend to be — a good excuse to let things go wild in at least a section of the property. And dense vegetation will also provide the birds with necessary cover for roosting, as well as protection from the elements and potential predators. Of course, many of us have augmented our yards with sugar water feeders that will bring the tiny birds into view. While there are many brands on the market — with more being added every season — they vary in quality and effectiveness. No matter what kind you choose, be The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
sure it can be opened up for complete cleaning and that the ports are large enough (at least 3 mm) not to cause bill injury. Hummer feeders need to be cleaned with hot water (no detergent) at least every three days during the heat of the summer, so easy access for effective scrubbing and rinsing is critical. A 10 percent bleach solution is fine later in the season when mildew can be an issue. Just be sure to rinse all of the parts very thoroughly before refilling. The best choice for offering homemade nectar is a saucer-style feeder, such as a HummZinger, that pops apart for easy cleaning and refilling. The beauty of these feeders is that they do not tend to seep or drip and, as a consequence, are less likely to attract the bees and wasps that reservoir-style feeders do. Also, many designs now have a built-in ant moat that creates an effective barrier to those even tinier sugar-loving critters that abound in our area during most of the year. Please avoid store-bought mixes. They can contain additives and preservatives that may not be good for the birds. A simple mix of 1 part sugar to 4 parts water is all you need to use. Adding color to the fluid is not recommended, nor is it necessary. Red dye is usually a petroleumbased compound that the birds cannot digest. Besides, ruby-throateds have phenomenal color vision and can see the red components of your feeder from over a half a mile away. Last but not least, although hummingbirds do not use conventional bird baths, they do need to keep their feathers clean. There are specialty fountains on the market that are very shallow and may attract them to bathe, though it’s more likely you will see a ruby-throated rinsing off by making passes through your sprinklers. You could even have a close encounter with an overheated ruby-throated if you happen to be watering with a hose during the heat of the day. PS Susan would love to receive your wildlife observations and/or photos at susan@ncaves.com.
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T H E NAT U R A L I S T
Requiem for a Dolphin Pondering extinction in a river far away
Baiji Taxidermied Mount
Story and Photographs by Todd Pusser
On February 18, 1914,
Charles Hoy, the teenage son of an American missionary in the Hunan Province of China, went duck hunting on Dongting Lake, an offshoot to that country’s longest river, the Yangtze. Instead of procuring waterfowl that cold winter day, young Hoy shot and killed an unusual freshwater dolphin. A naturalist at heart, Hoy kept the skull of the dolphin as well as several photos documenting his trophy, which he presented to the Smithsonian Institution upon his return to America. Gerrit Miller Jr., a scientist at the renowned museum, examined the skull and declared that it belonged to a new genus and species of dolphin, which he christened Lipotes vexillifer in 1923. The name Lipotes comes from the Greek word lipos meaning “fat,” and the
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
difficult-to-pronounce species name vexillifer is Latin for “flagbearer.” Scientific jargon aside, the dolphin is commonly known as the Yangtze river dolphin or baiji (pronounced Bi-gee). Fast forward 83 years later, to December 2006, when our research vessel pulled into the enormous port city of Wuhan, China, along the shores of the Yangtze River. The city, with a population of more than 11 million people, was still many years away from achieving notoriety as the origin of a global pandemic that continues, as of this writing, to cripple economies and destroy lives. At the time, despite it being a city larger than New York City, few Americans had ever heard of Wuhan. I confess to only having a vague understanding of where the city sat geographically within the vast country of China before that trip. I had traveled to the bustling city to join a team of two dozen scientists, gathered from around the world, to conduct a survey of the Yangtze River for the dolphin. Since the species description in 1923, a major revolution and world war had prevented Western scientists from studying the unusual animal in more detail. In 1979, China opened its borders to the outside world, and the first surveys were conducted for the dolphin. A joint team of Chinese and European scientists found the baiji to be exceedingly rare and determined that only a few hundred individuals occupied the Yangtze, the only place in the world where the species is found. PineStraw
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T H E NAT U R A L I S T
By the time of our survey, it was estimated Surveying For dolphins on the Yangtze that the entire population numbered just a dozen individuals, and the baiji was widely considered the most endangered large animal on the planet. Most people know dolphins, in particular the bottlenose dolphin, from attractions at large aquariums such as Sea World, or (if you are of a certain generation) television shows like Flipper. But few would recognize the baiji as a dolphin. With a long snout filled with scores of needlesharp teeth, small beady eyes, broad flippers and a tiny fin on its back, the animal looks downright prehistoric. For six weeks, our research boats, using highpowered binoculars and towing sophisticated underwater hydrophones to record any sounds the dolphins might make, combed the Yangtze River from one end to the other. Twice. We failed to see a single dolphin. possible we missed an individual baiji or two but, considering the The Yangtze River is the third longest river in the world, behind amount of effort involved and the thoroughness of the survey, it the Amazon and the Nile, and has dozens of tributaries (most of seemed unlikely a sustainable population remained in the river. which are dammed) and two main, large lakes. Aside from its wide The results of our survey were published the following year mouth near Shanghai, the Yangtze is a relatively narrow river, averdeclaring that the baiji was likely extinct in the wild. One of the lead aging just over 1 mile in width throughout its course. It is entirely scientists, Samuel Turvey, published a book, Witness to Extinction,
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T H E NAT U R A L I S T
chronicling the events of the survey. For a brief time, media outlets ran stories on the demise of the dolphin, both online and in major newspapers. But within a few weeks, the baiji was largely forgotten. The chances are good that — other than its mention here — you have never even heard of a baiji. Extinction is something that we are taught in elementary school. We know that dinosaurs once walked this planet, and that wooly mammoths are relics of the last Ice Age. But the concept of extinction happening today remains a bit abstract and insignificant. The loss of the baiji had no effect on global stock markets. There are no days marked on our calendars commemorating its demise. All that is left of the baiji’s time on this planet are a few dusty skeletons and remains preserved in vats of formalin, scattered in museums around the world. In the nearly 100 years since the baiji was described, we still know virtually nothing about it. Basic questions about its home range, preferred habitat, what it liked to eat, even its average lifespan remain unanswered. What is more certain, the dolphin was a part of the vast tapestry of life unique to this planet, and its untimely demise should provide food for thought. It simply lived its life trying to survive and provide for its own, just like the rest of us. PS Naturalist and photographer Todd Pusser works to document the extraordinary diversity of life both near and far. His images can be found at www.ToddPusser.com.
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Gallery • Studios • Classes “All That Jazz” Solo Show by Jude Winkley Opening Reception Friday, April 2 • 5:00-7:00 Exhibit Open thru April 29 Gallery Hours: Monday - Saturday 12-3pm CLASSES
Oil and Acrylic Next Step-Oil Painting - Linda Bruening – Wednesday & Thursday, April 7 & 8 9:30-3:30 Oil Painting with Courtney – Monday & Tuesday, April 12 & 13 10:00-3:30 Painting Portraits and Figures Series – Harry Neely – Tuesdays – May 4, 11, 18 & 25 9:30-1:00
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G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L
The Ross That Wasn’t The lost links of James Barber
By Lee Pace
By the late 1920s, Donald
Ross had designed seven golf courses in the Sandhills. There were Nos. 1-4 at Pinehurst Country Club, with the No. 2 course the annual venue for the North and South Open, and North and South Amateur. By 1912, he had designed 18 holes at Southern Pines Golf Club. And Mid Pines in 1921 and Pine Needles in 1928 were positioned on opposite sides of Midland Road on the outskirts of Southern Pines, the former serving as the linchpin of a private club and hotel, and the latter part of a combination resort and real estate venture.
Five of the seven remain today. Pinehurst No. 3 became half Ross/ half Ellis Maples in the late 1950s when Maples built 18 new holes on the west side of N.C. 5 and arranged a new Pinehurst No. 5. The No. 4 course was abandoned during the Depression and World War II, later to re-emerge under various iterations, the latest a Gil Hanse redesign that opened in 2018. And Southern Pines, regarded by many knowledgeable design wonks as one of Ross’ finest routings, is under the restoration scalpel as we speak under new ownership and the design and construction acumen of architect Kyle Franz. But there’s a fascinating story about the eighth Ross course for the Pinehurst area, the course that never was.
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
In 1927, Ross laid out a course on land now occupied by a housing development and The O’Neal School off Airport Road northeast of the village of Pinehurst. The client was designated on blueprints as “James Barber, Esq.” Barber was a native of London who came to America at the age of 35 in 1887 and made his fortune with the Barber Steamship Lines, one of the world’s foremost shipping concerns. He loved golf and visited Pinehurst regularly from the early 1900s on, occupying a suite at the Holly Inn for the full winter season and then in the early 1910s building two houses just a short walk from the Carolina Hotel on Beulah Hill and Shaw roads. It was on the grounds around one of these mansions that he added a tennis court, formal gardens and a miniature golf course he called PineStraw
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G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L
“Thistle Dhu,” which later was among the inspirations for Pinehurst’s immensely popular 18-hole putting course adjacent to the resort clubhouse. Barber was among a group of prominent businessmen in the Sandhills who joined Leonard Tufts, the owner of Pinehurst and son of founder James W. Tufts, in developing thousands of acres of land between Pinehurst and Southern Pines known as Knollwood. As World War II ended and the 1920s beckoned, they envisioned a posh private club with golf and lodging, and a surrounding residential community. That was the impetus for Mid Pines Inn and Golf Club. The first official meeting of Mid Pines was held in January 1921, and Barber was elected president. Tufts was vice president and general manager. A.S. Newcomb, a real estate agent, was secretary/ treasurer. Ross was a founding member, as was L.M. Boomer, a partner with the du Pont family in owning the Waldorf-Astoria in New York City. “James Barber is a man not heard of as often as some,” The Pilot noted in 1921, “but he is one of the big forces in the development of the Sandhills. His holdings in Pinehurst and Mid Pines are huge, and between the two places he has a small empire.” That empire in time included the land for his private golf course. At the time what is now known as Airport Road was called Seals Road. The clubhouse was located on the southwest corner of the tract on land near what in the 1980s would become the 14th hole of Longleaf Golf and Family Club, later changed to the fifth hole when the nines were flipped. Seven holes were on the south side of Seals Road on what is now a housing development accessed by Tall Timbers Drive and Laurel Lane. The Southern Pines Waterworks lake was just to the east. Both front and back nines crossed Seals Road, and the holes on the north side ran on ground that today includes homes along Chesterfield Drive within the Forest Creek community, and runs eastward to the baseball and soccer fields of The O’Neal School. Ross’ design indicates residential lots alongside some of the holes. Bill Patton, the course superintendent at Forest Creek from 1994 to 2014, remembers hearing talk that parts of the Forest The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L
Creek property once included an abandoned Ross design. “The president of the Donald Ross Society came sometime around 1996 or ’97, looked at the property near the entrance to The O’Neal School,” Patton says. “He thought it looked like an old golf course. Personally, I couldn’t see it.” What is certain is that the course was routed on paper by Ross. What is not quite as clear is how much, if any, was actually built, though documents in the Tufts Archives indicate the clubhouse was, in fact, built of native stone and had “a prominent view” of what would later be two small lakes within the back nine of the Longleaf course. There are no remnants of that structure today. “Mr. Ross has designed a picturesque tract on the summit of the hills which gives a constant outlook over all the country,” The Pilot observed in 1927. “Below the fairways the reservoir with its sixty acres of open lake spreads out along the whole west side of the course. From the high spots on the course, Southern Pines is visible, Carthage, the territory around Vass, Pinehurst and into indefinite distance in all directions.” Two events derailed Barber’s vision. First, his death in February 1928. And second, the Great Depression that began with the October 1929 stock market crash. If his son and heir, Edward, had any designs on completing his father’s plan, they were scuttled during hard economic times. Edward Barber had little insight into his father’s vision when the
elder Barber died. Leonard Tufts wrote to Ross in 1928 and said he had corresponded with Edward, who was at a loss what to do with the land. “He does of course want to know what his father had in mind in spending all that money out there in the woods,” Tufts wrote. Tufts then conferred with Ross and wrote back to Barber: “Your father’s idea was to build 18 holes of golf and use it for his private course where he could take his friends to play, and eventually to sell this property to a club that would have rooms, in a good deal the same way that we sold the Mid Pines property.” Author Daniel Wexler included this Barber course in his book Lost Links: “Ross’ design for Barber was serious business, measuring over 6,500 yards and featuring strategic elements generally found only among the architect’s most prominent works . . . In fact, it probably fell among the upper 10 percent of the celebrated architect’s massive portfolio.” High cotton, indeed, and worth some mental marinating next time you’re backed up on the roundabout waiting to head for Airport Road. PS Lee Pace has written about golf in the Sandhills for three decades. His newest book, Good Walks — Rediscovering the Soul of Golf at 18 Top Carolinas Courses, will be available in May from UNC Press.
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Beige Wall Telephone, 1960s
April ����
To you who have never known what it is to be tethered to the family’s one phone by a corkscrew cord filthied by idle fingers twisting it as we talked and stretched by our efforts to sneak with the handset away from the dining room where that cheap plastic box clung to the wall, my sister and I desperate to hide behind curtains or in a nearby room and mumble dumb endearments to whichever lucky soul we had a crush on that week: I won’t say how wonderful it felt to hear a call’s unexpected tremolo and rush to answer that sudden summons, lifting the receiver’s heavy curve out of its metal hook, or to dial seven numbers on a whirring analog wheel and hear a distant ringing pulse in the ear, knowing that actual bells trilled as a body moved through space to deliver its hopeful Hello? – no, it was awful, that phone, intended for businesses, brisk standing exchanges of information, not a home where its too-public anchoring left adolescent siblings open to each other’s mockery and the cocked ears of nosy parents straining to decode one side of conversations as we curled closer to the wall and whispered words downward into the darkness that our huddling made, not pacing like a barking dog chained to a stake in the backyard but trying our best to vanish, descending slow as a diver sipping words like oxygen from a humming line whose other end kept us breathing. — Michael McFee, from We Were Once Here, Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2017
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Cedarcrest in Bloom A free-spirited and romantic escape
By Claudia Watson • Photographs by John Gessner 78
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
T
he light snow clinging to the winter-into-spring camellias prompted her early morning call last March. “Oh, you must come and see these camellias before the snow is gone,” said an enthusiastic June Buchele. “The blooms look stunning against the clear blue sky.” The first signs of spring are the sweetest in Barry and June Buchele’s garden. A warming sun peaks through the treetops as we enjoy the spectacle of hundreds of vibrant large camellia blooms dusted with snow. It’s a stunning prelude to an intoxicating buffet of things that start small. Nearby, winter snowdrops and hellebores peek out from under layers of leaf mulch, and the bright yellow stamens of crocus shout, “Spring is here!”
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
“Oh gosh, it’s my favorite time of year,” says June, an accredited American Camellia Society (ACS) judge and an energetic N.C. Extension master gardener volunteer. “I can’t wait for the daffodils to bloom,” pointing to the long green stalks reaching for the sun. The Bucheles’ garden is a free-spirited and romantic escape with only a touch of discipline for Mother Nature. Just steps away from busy Beulah Hill Road, the sound of traffic falls silent. Their property in Old Town Pinehurst is obscured behind a thickly planted border of big old-growth trees and shrubs. “No one knows it’s even back here,” says Barry, who’s quick to share the history. In 1916, James Wells Barber, an international shipping magPineStraw
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nate, purchased the 1.24-acre property. He commissioned Leonard Tufts’ brother-in-law, architect Lyman Sise, to build the home for him and his wife, Kate. According to historical documents, they named the “two-story, weather-boarded, Tuscan-columned cottage, with two large stone chimneys” Cedarcrest. Barber took a large portion of the property and built the “Lilliputian,” the country’s first nine-hole miniature golf course. Before they moved in, they commissioned Sise to construct a grander Federal Revival mansion across the street. Known as Thistle Dhu, it was the location of the country’s first 18-hole pitch-and-putt miniature golf course. Cedarcrest contributes to Pinehurst’s designation as a National Historic Landmark. Barry and his late wife, Sarah, purchased Cedarcrest in 1987. An ob/gyn, he founded the Southern Pines Women’s Health Center in 1981. It was a solo practice for nearly three years. “I was working 80 to 100 hours a week and couldn’t leave Moore County for nearly three years since I was on 24-hour call,” he recalls. “When I had time off, I was usually sleeping. Gardening was not on the top of my list, though I always had my tomato and pepper plants.” After Sarah’s untimely death in 2012, Barry admits it was a rough time, recalling the empty house, the untended garden, and the loneliness. He met June through an online dating site, and they married 16 months later. “When we talked about getting married, June said to me, ‘If we get married, I’d like to bring some color to the house and garden,’” he recalls. “I told her, ‘There is no if,’ and I promised her she could. Her love of flowers adds so much to our home and life.” Now semi-retired, Barry and his bride of seven years share the love of the land and a passion for creating a beautiful space, though he admits he didn’t know what was outside his doors until he met and married June.
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“June woke one morning and looked out the window,” he says. “She turned to me, asking, ‘Barry, do you know how many camellias you have out there?’” He had no idea, so June pulled on her coat and boots and took the better part of the morning to count. She returned to tell him, “There are over 100 on the property.” His astonished reply was, “Huh?” The Bucheles credit the previous owner for planting the garden’s bones with a collection of camellias (Camellia japonica and Camellia sasanqua), hollies and azaleas growing under a canopy of longleaf pines and live oaks, giving it subtle Southern charm. There is a comforting wildness to the place, with an abundance of deciduous trees and evergreen shrubs stretching to the sunlight, providing a secure habitat for a herd of deer, rabbits, an occasional fox and turtle, and numerous birds. When flocks of chattering cedar waxwings arrive in the winter to feed on the holly berries, June hangs out the upstairs windows to watch and photograph them. With a degree in education from the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, she taught elementary and intermediate school science, English and Spanish. She also studied botany with Clifford Parks, a world-renowned camellia expert. That experience developed her knowledge of botany, propagation, and the advantages of good soil fertility. Still, she confesses she didn’t truly appreciate the beauty of camellias until she moved to Pinehurst. June was raised in Charlotte, where the dark red clay there was not favorable for camellias. Instead, her father and grandfather propagated and grew boxwoods, her first love. Her mother enjoyed flowers and became a talented floral designer who won ikebana (the Japanese art of flower arranging) competitions. “Gardening is in my Southern heritage,” she says. The Bucheles claim 80-90 varieties of camellias among the 100plus they count today, providing a lush backdrop during the nonThe Art & Soul of the Sandhills
blooming months for other shrubs and continuously changing the landscape. Despite the abundance of the broadleaved evergreens, last winter they built several raised beds for the exclusive purpose of growing new camellias for exhibitions. “We planted 44 new, rare or unusual camellia japonica varieties,” June explains. “I keep them small and tidy — one plant, one bloom. You enter to win with a spectacular bloom.” She’s won awards two of the past three years. The new camellia beds receive special care and are situated in six locations to determine the best one for growing each variety. Camellias thrive in the region’s acidic soil. Most prefer understory shade or part shade, but some have adapted to full sun. They grow best in soils high in organic matter, and the Bucheles fill the beds with a blend of Brooks eggshell compost and homemade compost. Barry, now a seasoned gardener, is often up to his ankles in the compost, checking and turning it as it slowly develops under an ancient live oak. “This is fluffy, rich and ready to go into the beds,” he says while scooping a forkful into the wheelbarrow. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Late winter, they usually pack up their van for the busy camellia judging schedule, attending shows up and down the East Coast. But this year, the format requires photos of entries sent by email and then judged on Zoom. “We’re not sure how this is going to work,” says a dubious June, who’s volunteered to be a judge at the first ACS competition this year, in Fayetteville, via Zoom. In normal times, Barry volunteers as a show “runner” — carefully delivering the fragile single blooms perched in small cups to the head table for further judging. “Dropping or damaging a bloom is not a good thing,” he says, noting an unblemished track record. “We’ve learned so much,” adds June. “The people I judge with are very passionate about growing and showing camellias and sharing knowledge. We’ve all become good friends, which makes it enjoyable for both of us. Plus, we get to see a lot of beautiful places.” The division of labor in their garden is simple, explains Barry. “My main thought about gardening is, ‘What can I eat?’ June is more of, ‘What flowers can I cut and bring into the house?’” Raised in Texas, Barry’s father, also a doctor, would occasionally take Barry and his brother to their grandfather’s farm in PineStraw
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southern Kansas. “Gardening and farming were in our blood,” he explains. “But Dad hated farming and didn’t want to do it. He’d take us there and work our butts off. He wanted us to gain an appreciation for a farmer’s hard work and to understand the importance of staying in school. “So, now I’m in charge of the compost and varmint control,” he says, laughing as he readjusts his soil-smudged garden hat. Countermeasures used to keep the rabbits and birds out of the vegetable garden include colorful fake snakes hanging from the tomato cages and a chicken-wire fence. Still, he admits, the voles get the best of them, “They ate the entire shade garden last year.” In addition to the busy camellia season, spring brings a multitude of requisite heavy maintenance and weekly garden chores, which they’ve handed off to Cooley and Co. Landscape. But they stay connected with the essence of Mother Nature. June plucks wilted foliage and prowls for weeds as she walks. She stops abruptly, reaching for an antique climbing rose. “It’s a Pierre de Ronsard,” the name lilting off her tongue. “The color changes from a soft pink to a deep rose,” she says, inhaling its heavenly fragrance and passing it along for a sniff. Continuing down the walk, June points out areas for ambitious cleanup and planting projects. “I move plants a lot. If they are not doing well, I dig ’em up and replant. That’s the fun thing about gardening — it’s all an experiment.” She laughs and tugs at a prickly-ivy greenbrier (Smilax rotundifolia) branch that’s entangling her beloved peonies. She discloses her plans for the azaleas, which she despises. “They
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bloom once and are done. Then they look leggy and sickly, not at all like camellias with their beautiful thick foliage.” So, last winter she took matters into her own hands and did extensive renovation pruning. “They were this high,” she says, motioning to her shoulders. “Now, they’re a foot high. But they’ll grow out and be pretty again.” A recent makeover of the front included replacing a forlorn wildflower garden with a chipping green. Carved out of lush Xeon zoysia, it’s surrounded by blossoming redbuds, pink and white dogwoods, azaleas, forsythia, and graceful bridal wreath spirea. A dramatic Kousa dogwood (Cornus kousa) with its profusion of large, white flower bracts and red berries provides an attractive and long-lasting display throughout spring and summer. Nearby, a large oval garden graces the house’s entrance. It’s an exuberant mix of daffodil bulbs, hardy camellias, English lavender, mixed ranunculus, and clumps of Shasta daisies and gladiolas. Pollinator-friendly perennials include cheerful Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta L.), salvia, coneflowers, and a false wild yellow indigo (Baptisia tinctoria). The spreading habit of several Lantana ‘Chapel Hill’ plants act as groundcover to brighten the area. Free-flowering, ivory-colored calla lilies (Zantedeschia ‘Intimate Ivory’) create drama all season long. Two towering pottery fountains anchor the bed while a longlegged, sharp-beaked stork poses quietly nearby. “Storks are rumored to bring babies, but Barry’s the one that does that,” says June of the counterfeit bird. “He’s delivered over 11,000 babies, so I had to put one out there in his honor.” But it’s the back of the property that’s their private oasis. When The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
the old brick patio began to heave from the pressure of nearby tree roots, they asked builder Ken Bonville to design and create an outdoor living space. “It’s functional with an outdoor kitchen, and it’s as welcoming and entertaining as a family room,” notes Barry. “We made sure we had it screened so we’d enjoy it without being eaten up by the bugs,” he says of the covered space with patio-toceiling rolldown screens. The patio extends outside the covered structure to include a cozy fire pit. Twin big-screen TVs, mounted back-to-back, allow sports fans to enjoy the action inside or from the fire pit and pool area. June enjoys dressing up the outdoor room with her artfully arranged freshly cut flowers. “To me, flowers make a house a home,” she says. “With this area and our pool, it fits how we live. We spend a lot of time together here. It’s relaxing and keeps us connected to the beauty and serenity of our garden.” Native Bronze Dixie Sweet scuppernong grapes wrap along a trellis in a sunny portion of the backyard. “This variety is wonderful — big, sweet, and very juicy. Since June’s turned over the grapes to me, I handle the pruning, and when we get good grapes, I claim success,” Barry says. Bordering the vineyard is June’s deer-resistant peony bed, which The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
started with one selection from Tony Avent’s Plant Delights Nursery, a favorite for plant hunters. That peony (Paeonia ‘Scarlet O’Hara’) led to yearly additions, and the bed now has over 30 peonies that bloom in time for Mother’s Day. Closer to the pool, there’s a collection of tropicallooking hardy ginger plants, including an exotic Hedychium coronarium with a fragrance similar to jasmine. Elephant ears (Colocasia), daylilies (Hemerocallis), and specimens of Amorphophallus titanium, known as the ‘Corpse flower,’ and Hippeastrum ‘Voodoo,’ add mystery. Working side-by-side in the garden, the couple divide and conquer, with each taking on different tasks. Everything doesn’t always go as planned, but they take time to enjoy its beauty and peacefulness. “A few years ago, I built the simple slate path that threads through the back of the property. It’s bordered by dozens of azaleas and camellias and it’s the most tranquil place when they’re blooming. I get lost in the flowers,” reflects Barry. “If it weren’t for June, there wouldn’t be a garden.” Their garden — a changeable, renewable paradise that stirs the senses and spirits, igniting a love of life. PS Claudia Watson is a frequent contributor to PineStraw and The Pilot and finds the joy in each day, often in a garden. PineStraw
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All in the
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Bill Fownes (left) winner of Pinehurst’s 1929 Mid-Winter Tournament; George Dunlap, Jr. (right)) runner-up
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By Bill Case
hen Bill Fownes faced George Dunlap Jr. on Dec. 31, 1929, in the final match of Pinehurst’s Mid-Winter Tournament, he was a decade past his golfing prime. He had won the 1910 U.S. Amateur Championship and remained a top-ranked golfer for another dozen years — good enough to play on two Walker Cup teams, captaining the U.S. side in the 1922 matches. He won numerous championships in his home state of Pennsylvania, including four state amateur titles. By contrast, the 20-year-old Dunlap, already a four-time Mid-Winter champion, was emerging as one of America’s best amateurs. The Princeton junior would win the 1933 U.S. Amateur, and seven United North and South Amateur titles. Time had contributed to Bill Fownes’ golfing decline — he was by then 52 — and health issues were dogging him. In 1926, he suffered a heart attack at his Pinehurst winter home after a round. It is unlikely he would have survived but for the quick actions of his caddie, who had been waiting outside to be paid. When Fownes failed to reappear, the caddie rushed inside and found him unconscious next to the doorway. Notwithstanding the difference in their ages, Fownes and Dunlap shared much in common. Both lived in Pinehurst during the winter season and competed at amateur golf’s highest level. Fownes’ metallurgical engineering degree from Massachusetts Institute of Technology equated with Dunlap’s Ivy League education. Both were sons of amazingly successful and wealthy fathers. George’s father founded the renowned book publishing company Grosset and Dunlap, while Bill’s dad, Pittsburgher Henry C. (H.C.) Fownes, made his millions acquiring and operating an array of enterprises associated with iron, steelmaking, and oil. Furthermore, Bill, George Jr. and their fathers were all active members of The Tin Whistles, Pinehurst’s pre-eminent male golf society. But the Fowneses had accomplished something that no other family could match. It was H.C. who in 1903 founded Pittsburgh’s Oakmont Country Club, designed its epic course, and fashioned it into the most demanding test in championship golf. Bill then took charge of pushing the penal nature of the course to the max. For decades, he would roam Oakmont’s grounds, plotting the placement of additional harThe Art & Soul of the Sandhills
PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE TUFTS ARCHIVES
Family
Pinehurst’s Fownes Family left an enduring legacy in golf
rowing bunkers. The younger Fownes believed that “the charm of the game lies in its difficulties.” He explained his course design philosophy with the pithy aphorism, “A shot poorly played should be a shot irrevocably lost.” Few of the several hundred spectators gathered at the first tee of Course No. 2 to watch the Mid-Winter’s championship match gave Fownes much of a chance against young Dunlap. The older man began the match unsteadily, losing the first two holes. He righted himself and stood only 1 down as the match reached the eighth green, where Dunlap’s ball rested 4 feet from the pin while Fownes’ checked up nearer the hole. According to the Pinehurst Outlook, “the Princeton golfer slightly hooked his putt and knocked Fownes’ ball into the hole.” This astounding break brought Fownes even with the nonplussed Dunlap. Thereafter, the battle was nip-and-tuck with neither player gaining better than a 1-up advantage. The match stood all square on the 18th. Dunlap misplayed his approach, and suddenly Fownes faced a 5-foot putt to win the match. To convert it, Fownes’ ball needed to barely miss Dunlap’s, which was partially blocking the line. He nursed the tricky slider past the stymie and into the cup for the upset victory. The Outlook reported it as “one of the most stirring finishes ever seen in a Pinehurst tournament.” The victory was Fownes’ last hurrah in competitive golf. Within months, he suffered a second debilitating heart attack. More seizures followed and he would lie bedridden for six weeks. Though Fownes would survive the scare, he curtailed his business activities and ceased playing golf altogether.
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PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE TUFTS ARCHIVES
Father and son: Bill Fownes (left), Henry C. Fownes (right)
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.C. Fownes’ fragile health in 1930 contrasted markedly from that of his wiry and agile father, H.C., who at 74 still golfed daily and, according to the younger Fownes, “seemed to have almost unlimited stamina and endurance.” H.C. brought this same gusto to driving an automobile. He loved fast cars and motored his flashy Duesenberg from Pittsburgh to Pinehurst with pedal to the metal over the rutted dirt roads of the era. This zest extended to his social life. A round of golf in Pinehurst was incomplete until he and his Tin Whistles playing partners sipped drinks at the home H.C. built on East Village Green Road in 1914. During the season, eight to 10 visitors usually lodged in its spacious quarters. A widower following his wife, Mary’s, death in 1906, the convivial entrepreneur was usually the last man to depart a party or a card game. H.C. favored bridge and poker, pastimes likewise enjoyed by Bill. Father and son shared much more. According to Bill, they “went through the bicycling craze together,” and regularly played tennis. “So that from early boyhood . . . and because of (our) close association, I was frequently classed as his brother instead of his son; much to my father’s amusement and gratification.” The son’s premature baldness no doubt contributed to this misapprehension. The men were inseparable business associates. Two years after his 1898 graduation from MIT, Bill joined his father, and extended family, in operation of their various enterprises. These included an iron casting foundry in Pittsburgh, a modern blast furnace in Midland, Pennsylvania, coal reserves and coke oven near Brownsville, Pennsylvania, and the Standard Seamless Tube Company. In 1929, the Fowneses diversified this portfolio, founding the Shamrock Oil & Gas Company. Bill served as his father’s alter ego in managing these undertakings though “no major decisions were made without his (H.C.’s) guidance and advice which in the last analysis was the determining factor.” PineStraw
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his eye to the blinding light and heat caused by the tire repair. Given a new lease on life, he returned to work, but now balanced it with time for leisure — mostly golf. He began playing at Pittsburgh Field Club, a small athletic facility located in what is now Fox Chapel. Dissatisfied with the club’s rudimentary course, H.C. helped start Highland Country Club, which featured a nine-hole, 2000-yard layout. It was the venue where H.C. introduced many family members to the game. In fact, four Fowneses playing out of Highland (himself, his two sons, and brother William Clark Fownes, for whom W.C., Jr. was named) won the 1902 Pittsburgh district team championship.
Five generations: left to right, Bill Fownes, his daughter Louise, her baby son Richard Fownes Blue, Sr., Mrs. Mary Fownes and Henry C. Fownes
Most of all, the Fowneses, père and fils, shared a passionate love of golf. Though not in the same class as his son, H.C. became an exceptional player despite starting the game in 1898 at the age of 42. By 1901, he was competing in the U.S. Amateur, even winning three matches in the 1905 championship before his elimination. He captured The Tin Whistles club championship of 1906. H.C.’s greatest playing achievement was winning Pinehurst’s 1918 Spring Tournament at age 62. He defeated son C.B. “Chick” Fownes (Bill’s brother) in the final match. Chick was a fine player despite suffering from palsy. “He is the greatest putter in the world,” marveled Walter J. Travis, America’s best player in the early 19th century, and noted for his own putting chops. The Outlook observed that the Spring Tournament’s all-Fownes final meant that, “not one man (of the 217 in the field) could beat a Fownes. Not one.” While H.C., W.C., and C.B. may have cornered the initials market, they weren’t the only distinguished Fownes golfers of the period. H.C.’s daughter Mary took home the championship trophy at the 1909 Women’s United North and South Championship, while his niece Sarah finished runner-up in 1919 and 1922. The family’s many fine golfers might never have chanced to take up the game absent a freak injury H.C. sustained in 1896 that was followed by a botched medical diagnosis. Then 39, H.C. sought to make a patch for a bicycle tire by heating it with a hot wire while neglecting to wear any eye protection. After completing the repair, he became aware of a black spot interfering with his vision. His physician grimly advised it was the result of arteriosclerosis and that H.C. could expect to live at best another two to three years. “This information, of course, was very depressing,” said Bill, displaying something of a gift for understatement. As a result, H.C. ceased his immersion in business ventures and “started traveling about the country seeking relaxation.” One recreational outlet was golf, which he took up at the suggestion of friend and fellow steel titan Andrew Carnegie. H.C. eventually learned from a specialist that his eye’s blind spot was not, in fact, a death sentence. It had come from the subjection of
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ith the game’s popularity on the rise, H.C. decided Pittsburgh deserved a course of challenge and stature. When he learned that farmland above the Allegheny River in Oakmont might provide a suitable location, he rounded up shareholders to buy the property and build a new course. To retain control, H.C. purchased the majority of the shares himself. Who should design this new behemoth? The self-confident H.C. just happened to have someone in mind — himself. Fownes fashioned a virtually treeless, bunker-strewn course of architectural brilliance containing unique features like the notorious Church Pews bunker between the third and fourth fairways. The humps, moguls and terrorizing speed of Oakmont’s greens would prove humbling to the best putters. In an era when the longest courses topped out at 6,000 yards, Oakmont’s distance at its 1904 opening stretched to a hitherto unimaginable 6,600 yards, with a par of 80. H.C. also assumed the role of Oakmont Country Club’s president. He adamantly rejected any favoritism toward wealthier, more prominent members. Bill wrote that his father “hated all pretense or show,” and was insistent “that every member in the club was entitled to equal rights.” The club welcomed female members, a rarity during that period. H.C. also took pains to recruit excellent golfers — three members, including Bill, would win the U.S. Amateur. Bill’s victory in the 1910 championship at the Country Club in Brookline, Massachusetts, featured a sensational semifinal match with legendary Chick Evans. Down two holes with three to play, all seemed lost for 33-year-old Fownes after he bunkered his tee shot on the par-3 16th. But when Bill holed a sizable putt for par and Evans three-putted, the deficit was cut in half. Fownes’ birdie on 17 squared the match, and after the frustrated Evans three-putted the final hole, the resilient Fownes escaped with a win. His 4 and 3 defeat of Warren Wood in the final proved far easier.
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hroughout the first quarter of the 20th century, W.C. Fownes remained a mainstay in the U.S. Amateur. A four-time semifinalist, he qualified for the event 19 times in 25 years. His last notable performance came in 1919, held fittingly at Oakmont. He reached the semis before bowing to Bobby Jones. The honing of his formidable skill had been enhanced in tournaments and exhibitions during Pinehurst winters. The Fownes family’s annual migrations to Pinehurst began around the time that H.C. started the Oakmont project. At first, only H.C. and golfing sons Bill and Chick made the excursion, bunking at the Carolina or the Holly. The Tin Whistles provided an ideal golf and social outlet for the men. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE TUFTS ARCHIVES
Fownes Cottage
Bill and his dad would both become presidents of the organization with H.C. serving in that capacity three times. In 1908, Mary Fownes, age 24, joined her father and brothers at Pinehurst for the winter season. She often brought along her golfing cohort from Oakmont, Louise Elkins, who, like Mary, would eventually become a North and South champion. A popular social butterfly, Mary enjoyed bridge and hosted card parties for her Pinehurst friends. She also demonstrated formidable dancing acumen with an Irish jig that knew no equal. From 1909 to 1913, H.C. leased Lenox Cottage on Cherokee Road. Formerly a rooming house, the cottage was large enough to house all the family’s golfers. Bill’s wife, Sara, and the couple’s two children, Louise and Henry (Heinie) C. Fownes II (named after his grandfather), came too. W.C. and Heinie were frequent winners in father-son tournaments. H.C.’s spry mother stayed in Arbutus Cottage next door. Thus, the Fowneses became integral members of Pinehurst’s wealthy “cottage colony.” The cottagers were a closely knit bunch who hobnobbed with one another throughout the season, even holding their own golf tournament. The Fowneses stood atop the cottage colony’s pecking order following the 1914 completion of Fownes Cottage on Village Green, arguably the most impressive home in the village. In those days, Pinehurst was essentially a company town run by the Tufts family. Everyone in Pinehurst, including the upper crust denizens of the cottage colony, depended on the Tuftses for staples of daily living. The Tuftses owned and operated the utility services, the local lumber company, laundry, service station and department The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
store. To defray operating costs, they instituted a quasi-governmental taxing system. To avoid outcries of taxation without representation, Pinehurst kingpin Leonard Tufts established an unofficial village council in 1923. In recognition of H.C.’s business acumen, Leonard appointed the steel baron to the new council. H.C. also led other Sandhills’ organizations, serving as president of the Pinehurst Country Club’s Board of Governors and as a member of the Pinehurst Bank’s board of directors. Donald Ross referred to H.C. as “the best citizen in Pinehurst.” H.C.’s most significant business contribution to Pinehurst, however, occurred during the Great Depression. The unprecedented economic downturn plunged the Tufts family’s holdings into receivership. It appeared doubtful that the family would retain their sizable Pinehurst assets after a creditor bank demanded payment of a $100,000 note. A group of cottagers anted up the funds to purchase the note, thereby keeping the Tuftses afloat. H.C. contributed the largest share — $30,000. This was no small gesture given that H.C.’s own investment in Shamrock Oil was tanking at the time.
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hile H.C. immersed himself in Pinehurst’s affairs, W.C. was gaining wide respect in golf for reasons unrelated to his playing ability. Collaborating with several noted golf architects, Bill assisted in finalizing the layout of incomparable Pine Valley after the course’s original designer died in 1918. Gravitating toward a role as golf’s senior statesman, Bill captained American teams in matches against teams from Canada PineStraw
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in 1919 and ’20. Then, in 1921, he organized a team of top American amateurs that challenged and beat a British aggregate in an informal competition prior to the British Amateur at Royal Liverpool. This match served as precursor and catalyst to the first Walker Cup held in 1921 at the National Golf Links on Long Island. The USGA, having taken note of Bill Fownes’ ability to run a team and inspire its players, appointed him playing captain. The U.S. won the cup 8 to 4 with Bill splitting his two matches. He would make the Walker Cup team again in 1924. W.C. also became active in golf administration, serving on the “Implements and Ball” committee of the USGA during a period in which the advent of steel shafted clubs was about to render hickory shafts as obsolete as buggy whips. Many feared the newfangled clubs would ruin the game. In 1923, Bill’s committee, after exhaustive testing, recommended that steel shafts be approved. This finding was met with resistance by the Royal & Ancient Golf Club, the regulator of golf outside the United States. Six years would pass before the R&A finally permitted steel. W.C.’s committee worried that the golf ball was traveling too far — a view still common today. To address this concern, the committee recommended that the ball’s minimum diameter be increased from 1.62 inches to 1.68 inches. The USGA adopted the proposal, but the R&A again balked. While the larger “American” ball was made mandatory for the Open Championship beginning in 1974, the governing bodies didn’t officially reach agreement on ball size until 1990. In 1926, the USGA elected Bill president of the association — the first U.S. Amateur champion so chosen. W.C. was serving in that role when he sailed with the U.S. team to Great Britain for the 1926 U.S. Walker Cup matches at St. Andrews. Wife Sara and the couple’s comely daughter Louise, then 22, accompanied him aboard the ship Aquitania. During the ocean crossing, Louise got reacquainted with tall, handsome Washingtonian Roland MacKenzie, whom she had met at Oakmont during the ’25 U.S. Amateur. The 19-year-old Brown University phenom had surprised everyone at that championship by winning medalist honors in the qualifier. Roland’s performance at St. Andrews in the ’26 Walker Cup was likewise impressive. The young bomber split his two matches and his thunderous tee shots amazed all. During their time together aboard ship and in Scotland, Louise and Roland shared a mutual attraction. But the prospect of romance drifted away after the ship reached the New York dock. Instead, Louise married Halbert Blue, whose family owned the Aberdeen & Rockfish Railroad in the Sandhills. The couple would have two children, Bill and Dick. Meanwhile, MacKenzie continued playing amateur golf, making the semifinals of the 1927 U.S. Amateur. Selected to the Walker Cup teams of 1928 and ’30, MacKenzie excelled, winning all four of his matches. He also married but the union did not last. During the 1930 Walker Cup in England, MacKenzie encountered dashing Hollywood movie star Douglas Fairbanks. At the actor’s invitation, Roland moved to California and caught on as an assistant director of several films. He and Fairbanks “usually played golf every morning before going to the studio, and never wanted for company,” remembered MacKenzie. “Among those who played a lot with us were Bing Crosby and Howard Hughes.” Tiring of Tinseltown, MacKenzie moved back to Washington
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Roland MacKenzie and Louise Fownes MacKenzie at their 1940 wedding
in 1932. After a stint in his family’s Dupont Laundry business, he turned pro, and in 1934 became head professional at Washington’s prestigious Congressional Country Club. He entered the 1935 U.S. Open at Oakmont and found himself the early leader with a 72 in the first round, though he would ultimately finish tied for 41st. The course’s notorious furrowed bunkers caused scores to skyrocket in that championship. Pittsburgh local pro Sam Parks wound up winning with a total of 299, the second highest winning score in the Open going back 100 years from today — the highest in that period is Tommy Armour’s 301 in 1927, recorded, naturally, at Oakmont. Louise, whose marriage to Halbert Blue had gone hopelessly awry, reconnected with Roland at the ’35 Open championship and they started seeing each other. They would marry four years later. H.C. served as the tournament chairman for the ’35 Open, his final contribution to the game as he died three months later. A whirling dervish to the end, H.C. made a 1,600-mile automobile trip to Amarillo, Texas, to check on the status of Shamrock Oil not long before his demise. W.C. Fownes succeeded his father as Oakmont’s president, successfully guiding the club through the tail end of the Depression and the chaotic years of World War II. He ultimately resigned in 1946.
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n his later years, W.C. tended to his gentleman farm adjacent to a home he acquired in 1928 on Crest Road in Knollwood, growing dazzling sunflowers. He played in his card club, the “Wolves Den,” collected antiques, served on corporate boards, and traveled. On one European vacation, he and wife Sara encountered a London cab driver who shared Bill’s interest The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
W.C. Fownes, Jr. and canine friends at Pinehurst Country Club
PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE TUFTS ARCHIVES
in antiques. The impressed Fowneses spontaneously invited the delighted hack to visit in the Sandhills, all expenses paid. Charles Goren, perhaps the mid-century’s foremost bridge authority, found himself subjected to a less welcome instance of Sara’s spontaneity. In 1949, the Fowneses invited Goren to stay with them. One afternoon, Charles sat in with Sara’s duplicate bridge group and won handily. When Sara tendered Goren his winnings based on the group’s standard 1/20th cent a point, he complained, stating he never played for less than a penny a point. Sara responded by tendering payment as demanded, but also summoning a cab and telling a flummoxed Goren to pack his bags.
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.C.’s son Heinie, who had played a key role in restoring Shamrock Oil to financial health, passed away from heart trouble in 1948. Two years later, Bill himself succumbed to a heart attack at age 72. The USGA paid W.C. this tribute: “As a friend and sportsman, he bequeathed to his fellows a spirit which will always live.” Wife Sara passed away in 1951. Chick died in Pinehurst in 1954. The passing of Bill’s generation did not terminate his family’s association with Pinehurst or amateur golf. Bill’s son-in-law Roland MacKenzie found that the pro life was not his cup of tea. He regained his amateur status after he and Louise relocated to the Baltimore area. In 1948, MacKenzie captured the Middle Atlantic Amateur Championship, a tournament he had won 23 years earlier. Roland and Louise maintained the family’s connections with the Sandhills, purchasing a second home in the Old Town section of Pinehurst. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
While in Baltimore, Roland had segued into land investment and farming, and he followed the same path in Moore County. In 1955, he acquired a large parcel several miles west of Pinehurst. He transformed the land into a peach farm and vineyard. In the late 1960s, MacKenzie and other associates decided to build golf courses on the property. Foxfire Resort and Country Club’s two courses, opened in 1968, were the happy result. Roland passed away in 1988, followed by Louise’s death in 1996. The MacKenzie’s two children, Clark and Margot, became superlative golfers. Clark MacKenzie won the 1966 Maryland Amateur Championship and later captured several international seniors’ titles. Margot MacKenzie Rawlings still resides at her parents’ Pinehurst home. She continues to play excellent golf as a member of Pinehurst Country Club’s Silver Foils. Margot’s stellar playing career includes victories in the stroke play championship of the Women’s Golf Championship of Baltimore, and championships of numerous clubs including Country Club of North Carolina. While these playing exploits through the generations are impressive, the Fownes family’s golfing legacy will always be magnificent Oakmont. The club has hosted a record nine U.S. Opens, two Women’s U.S. Opens, three PGA Championships, and five U.S Amateur Championships. The Amateur will return to Oakmont for the sixth time this year. While the course the Fowneses built in the hills outside Pittsburgh may be their ultimate mark in golf, the family’s footprints are a veritable stampede in Pinehurst. PS Pinehurst resident Bill Case is PineStraw’s history man. He can be reached at Bill.Case@thompsonhine.com. PineStraw
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The Suitable Suitors And a dancing bear
Fiction by Tony Rothwell
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
E
ver since Sir Richard’s untimely death from a sudden stroke there had been an increasing number of enquiries of Lady Fiona as to how she was bearing up, did she need company, that sort of thing. They were kindly of course but, taking stock of those making the solicitations, it became clear that, while they had initially come from her relatives and lady friends, they were now beginning to emanate from gentlemen — single gentlemen. Indeed, when her period of mourning was over, it wasn’t long before the enquiries became invitations. And Fiona, who had at first consoled herself solely in the company of her faithful dog, Jack, found herself seriously considering the opportunities with which she was being presented. Fiona was someone who loved life, but also someone who had not had what might be called a joyful marriage. It was true Richard had given her a title, a son (currently a soldier waging war against Napoleon in Europe), two well-found houses, one in the country, the other in the city, expensive jewelry and the latest clothes, but little by way of affection or even attention. He was always off with his friends or seeking influence among the aristocracy, leaving her to her own devices. To him she had been little more than an ornament, brought out when the occasion required. But Fiona was not one to sit at home and wait to be ‘required.’ More and more she found amusement in the soirées of the likes of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, and other members of the smart set in London — a group of aristocratic ladies who dressed in the height of fashion, wore the most exotic, bejeweled and befeathered wigs, and gambled and drank away their husband’s fortunes in a life close to dissipation. In addition, she had taken a cicisbeo*, who accompanied her to parties and other society events. Her choice had been a most willing, and amusing, rake — but she gave him up when Richard died. What was she to do now? She consulted an old friend and confidante who told her in no uncertain terms, “You, my dear, are what all men seek — goodlooking, humorous, well-preserved and well-off. Now that you have no ties, it’s high time you made a tour d’horizon, see what, or rather who, might be available. And you never know, you may find a true soulmate even yet.” And so, over the next few months, Fiona had a remarkably full diary, accepting many of the invitations that came her way. But eventually, and inevitably, her more persistent suitors, of whom there were five, started to press their case for a more permanent arrangement, along with remarks designed to run down their competition whenever the opportunity arose. This took all the enjoyment out of the situation for Fiona and she realized something had to be done.
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One rare evening when she found herself at home with nothing in her diary, she sat down with Jack on her lap to decide on a plan of action. As was her custom, she talked to her dog as though he were a person — he was, after all, very intelligent — and started by describing each of the suitors. Jack was all ears. “First there’s Gilbert Blunt. A divorcee; rotund, gouty, but a man with something very definitely in his favour — he farms half of Buckinghamshire! The trouble is I always view divorcees as potentially faulty goods, but I have to say his gifts are very generous. “Then there’s Andrew Duncannon. He’s a bachelor and a barrister. Not sure why he has become one of my favourites as he tends to be rather quiet, but he helped me greatly with Richard’s affairs when I needed it. And just when you least expect it, he utters a witticism or droll remark which never fails to make me giggle. And his pronouncements of affection seem very sincere. “Next there’s Sir Edward Ponsonby. A retired Major. He is by far the most handsome of the five and I dare say we make a good-looking couple when I am on his arm, no doubt like many a lady before me. He is a bit of a braggard though, constantly regaling me with tales of his derring-do in battle. When he retired, he bought himself a seat in Parliament and is an up-and-comer in Pitt’s Tory Party. He does well on his political connections and service pension, or so he keeps telling me. “Number four is Spencer Blanchard, a lonely widower if ever there was one. A man who has devoted himself to public service and is currently an Alderman of the City and widely thought to be a future Lord Mayor of London. So, what do you think, Jack, how would you like your mistress to be Lady Mayoress of London — rather grand, don’t you think? “And lastly there’s Neville Carlisle, a bachelor and a fat one at that! He’s an Oxford don, highly intellectual and obviously lives very well. He dazzles me with his understanding of just about everything, but does he talk! He’s really not my type, but I find it very difficult to say no to him. It’s as though it would somehow reflect badly on my judgment if I did so. Perhaps I fear what he would say of me, but he can be quite sweet when he’s not being brilliant. So, there they are, Jack — my five suitors.” Jack looked at her, his head cocked to one side in a questioning sort of way. “I suppose you want to know my favourite? Well, if I had to choose now, I would put Sir Edward in the first position and possibly Andrew Duncannon the second, but it’s very difficult — they are all suitable in their own way.” As she looked down at Jack an idea began to take shape. Yes, that was it. She would arrange a tea party at home and invite them all, but in such a way that they would think that they were the only one being PineStraw
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invited. For good measure she decided on April 1st as the date. She’d often had fun on April Fool’s Day, so why not? She didn’t know what would happen, but she felt something would come of it, and if nothing else, it would be very amusing. She had the invitations delivered the very next day. Lady Fiona Holland invites you to take tea with her on April 1st. at four o’clock in the afternoon to discus matters of mutual interest. R.S.V.P. The invitations might as well have been fireworks for the explosive effect they had on each of the recipients. Each knew that this was it. What else could there be to discuss but their betrothal? Five affirmative replies flew back. Gilbert Blunt started thinking about an expensive ring, “diamonds and rubies I think,” he mused. Major Ponsonby rehearsed a speech as though he were about to address Parliament, or was it his troops? Alderman Spencer Blanchard envisioned a grand reception in Guildhall with the Lord Mayor in attendance, and Neville Carlisle started to get excited about the coming joys of the wedding night. Only Andrew Duncannon had doubts. It certainly sounded like there was a real chance for him, but after a few minutes of quiet reflection he had convinced himself that Fiona needed more advice on her late husband’s affairs. Yes, that was it, how silly of him to get ahead of himself like that. Over the next two weeks, Lady Fiona turned down all invitations and left the suitors to their own devices. Of course, they were out and about and when occasionally they saw each other they seemed to be overflowing with bonhomie as they put on their best “I know something you don’t know” smiles, or passed each other with a cheery wave as much as to say, “You don’t know it yet, dear boy, but you have lost the prize.” Andrew Duncannon was very perplexed and was once on the point of asking Blunt why everyone seemed so friendly all of a sudden, but he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. Perhaps Fiona could shed light on it on April 1st. The day finally came around and the five suitors converged on Lady Fiona’s London residence — three on foot, Carlisle and Blunt in carriages, and all dressed in their very best town clothes and wigs impeccably powdered, except for Duncannon who was damned if he was going to pay the guinea tax imposed lately on powder**. But what was this? One by one they saw their competitors making for Fiona’s residence. They tried to remember the wording of the invitation. Perhaps they had misunderstood. No, they couldn’t have — it was very plain. Had they been tricked? No, Fiona wouldn’t do such a thing. Nothing for it but to go through with it. Meanwhile
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Duncannon was wondering about the complete and very sudden disappearance of the bonhomie so recently displayed. No one spoke a word. They just glowered at each other, feeling confused, uncomfortable and very put out. Carlisle was nearest the door and rang the bell. The door was opened by the butler and there in the foyer stood Lady Fiona, dressed in the latest Paris fashion, a long flowing dress of saffron-colored silk with matching hat, complete with feather. She smiled broadly at each one as she invited them in. Carlisle, who was determined to be the first to kiss the hand of the hostess, advanced, but so did Blunt at exactly the same time. The result was that the two of them got stuck in the door which only served to emphasize their considerable girths. After a swallowed curse Blunt gave way. The afternoon was not getting off to a good start for Buckinghamshire or Oxford. The rest followed into the foyer and Fiona led the way into her most elegantly appointed dining room. As a husband, Richard had been rather dull, but he had money and he allowed Fiona to spend it. In front of them was a table covered in beautiful china and platters of various tea-time foods, surrounded by six chairs. A painting over the fireplace of Cupid, complete with bow and arrows caught Ponsonby’s eye and set his heart racing. Now, where were they to sit? There were no place cards. All of them of course wanted to sit next to Fiona but while they were making their moves, it was Duncannon who stepped forward to hold a seat out for her which made the others seethe — an opportunity missed! Carlisle and Ponsonby immediately grabbed the seats on either side of her. Duncannon moved her chair in, and as the others sat down, he found the only seat left was behind a giant urn. Lady Fiona bade them welcome, thanked them for coming and invited them to help themselves to tea; but it was not only muffins but also the atmosphere that could be cut with a knife. No one was making conversation. They looked a bit like children at their first birthday party. Suddenly it seemed, all these gentlemen didn’t know how to behave. Fiona, ever the hostess and not insensitive to the situation, broke the ice saying how mild the weather had been and where were those April showers? Upon which Carlisle began a long treatise on trends in temperatures he had been studying for the last 20 years and “don’t you know each year we are experiencing lower average temperatures,” at which Blunt interrupted saying that’s what must be affecting the yield from his thousands of acres of wheat, while Ponsonby interjected that farmers were asking far too much of the government in this time of war, The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
as he was remarking to the Prime Minister only the other day, when Blanchard cut in with a statement that essential food costs were out of control in London and what he wanted to know was, what was Pitt proposing to do about that? At this point, manners completely went out of the window with everyone barking over and at each other as though Fiona wasn’t even present. She filled her lungs and bellowed “WOULD ANYONE CARE FOR SOME RUM AND WALNUT CAKE?” The room instantly fell silent except for Carlisle, who was still droning on about his temperature theories. But the others piped up with “Oh, yes, absolutely,” “indeed good lady,” “if you please,” “just a small piece perhaps,” “delicious tea,” they chorused, suddenly embarrassed by their show of ill-manners. At that Fiona got up out of her chair and made towards the bellpull to summon the cake. This was a signal for each of them to raise themselves out of their chairs and hurry to render her a service — no lady should be pulling bellpulls when there were five gentlemen present. As each did so, he realized that he was not the only one with the same thought and the matter then took on the form of a race to the bell — with disastrous results. Blunt fell, having tripped over Ponsonby’s foot, Spencer shot up and somehow impaled Blunt’s wig on his knife causing Carlisle to poke a muffin into his eye while Ponsonby, who had trodden on Jack’s paw, let out an ear-splitting howl as the dog sunk his teeth into the major’s knee. Meanwhile china and cutlery, muffins and eggs, were scattering in all directions, the teapot went flying and the urn was overturned. The gallant suitors then realized that they were, in any case, too late to assist Fiona, as one last china cup fell to the floor with an expensive crash. Quiet descended on the room, broken in turn by a whimper from Ponsonby, a curse from Carlisle, an apology from Blanchard and an unfortunate noise from Blunt. Duncannon meanwhile picked up the urn and put its lid back on. The cook and a maid, hearing the cacophony, came running in, the cook carrying the rather delicious-looking rum and walnut cake which she set on the table, while the maid started to clear up the debris. At this point, the gentlemen realized the best thing for them to do was retreat and enjoin the battle for Fiona’s hand on another occasion. They moved towards the door muttering “so sorry, have to go, Fiona,” “appointment in the city,” “vote in the House,” “need attention for my
eye,” “my knee” and so on. Fiona, suppressing a smile, thanked them for coming, tried to apologize to Ponsonby for Jack’s behavior, and said goodbye as she watched their backs disappear into the foyer. Only Andrew Duncannon stayed to help clear up the devastation. When they had brought the room to some sort of order, Fiona offered him a piece of the rum and walnut cake. “At least that didn’t perish in the fray,” she said. “Did you ever see such a thing, Andrew — will they ever forgive me? Will you ever forgive me? But it was funny, don’t you think? What will they say? I know I got you all here under false pretences, but I had no idea Armageddon would ensue, even though it is April Fool’s Day! Thank you so much for staying and clearing up, you are a dear and you seem to be the only one who came away unscathed.” “It’s the least I could do Fiona, and if I may say so, it was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen since I witnessed a dancing bear, wearing a skirt, walking down Regent Street juggling coconuts.” Fiona looked at him quizzically for a second, then realized what he had said, and broke out into peals of laughter, finally releasing the emotions bottled up over the last few months, not to mention the teatime debacle. “Andrew, you say the funniest things. You’re the only one who can make me laugh and I do love to laugh. I’m beginning to think you could steal my heart.” “Really, Fiona, do you mean it? I’d walk down Regent Street wearing a skirt and juggling coconuts if you really did.” “That won’t be necessary Andrew — just come here and give me a kiss.” PS Historical Notes: The print by James Gillray that inspired the story “Company shocked at a lady getting up to Ring the Bell” was published on November 20th, 1804. * In the 18th century in England, convention accepted that ladies who had given their husbands a son and heir could take a cicisbeo (Italian for platonic lover) who provided sexual services and escorted them to events their husbands would not be attending, as long as the relationship did not interfere with their marriage. ** The Prime Minister of the day, William Pitt, imposed many taxes during this period to help pay for the expensive war against Napoleon. The names of the gentry who paid the guinea tax on powder for wigs were listed on a notice in their local church and became known as ‘guinea pigs’— the origin of the phrase we use to this day. Bears were first introduced to Europe in the Middle Ages and proved to be a popular sideshow entertainment in countries where bears were not indigenous. There is no evidence of one being seen in Regent Street juggling coconuts, but we can dream. Tony Rothwell moved to Pinehurst in 2017. He spent 50 years in the hotel business but in retirement collects caricatures, writes short stories and sings in the Moore County Choral Society. PineStraw
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STORY OF A HOUSE
Return of the Native Speaking fluent mid-century modernism
By Deborah Salomon • Photographs by John Gessner
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hat’s in a name? Grandfathered by the Arts and Crafts movement, championed by Frank Lloyd Wright, architectural styles that flourished post WWII answer to contemporary, Scandinavian, modern, post-modern and, finally, mid-century modernism, a style nurtured at the N.C. State University College of Design. Here, famed California architect George Matsumoto inspired disciples Edward Lowenstein and Thomas Hayes. Go forth, they were challenged, and shock the Georgians, the Taras, Colonials, Tudors, saltboxes and ranches tricked out in cherry highboys, mahogany dining tables, cut glass lamps and brocade upholstery. Out with the drapes. In with the light. Disciple Lowenstein shook up Guilford County while, in 1958, Hayes settled in Southern Pines, built himself a house in the genre’s extreme, opened an office with Calvin Howell, and began designing residences in stark contrast to the brick mansions and summery cottages à la Aymar Embury II. Soon after, Cecil Beith, a founding member of the St. Andrew’s Society of N.C., commissioned a residence on a 2-acre corner lot in Knollwood, where it appeared less Martian than those Hayes built in Weymouth. Now, after several ownerships but minimal renovations, this Hayes creation, home to bachelor Guy Bailey, speaks modernism starting at the front door. To the left, an exterior wall composed of slate plates laid horizontally and vertically form a decorative pattern.
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To the right, a goldfish pond with running water. The window wall rising above it reveals the dining room, furnished with a glass table and clear acrylic chairs which, in their transparency, almost levitate. Pale oak floors need only a few area rugs, also pale. In the vestibule, grasscloth wall coverings, a sleek black lacquer case piece and a watery blue painting in a floating frame set an immediate tone — followed by a surprise: The formal (as opposed to family) living room ceiling is composed of redwood slats, painted the color of beach sand and installed on a slant. Minimalism reigns here, where less is enough. Clean lines. Simple forms. Light. Abstract art. White, black, shades of gray, cream, vanilla, occasionally navy. A few books and plants, no clutter. Windows throughout, except for over the kitchen sink, are floor-to-ceiling, most uncovered. Bailey watches deer go by from a picture window set into the master bathroom wall. Bailey belongs to a select group of mid-life or retired nativeborns who have returned to Moore County. “We lived on Country Club Circle, near the Elks Club, in Judge McConnell’s house,” he says wistfully. “I realize now how wonderful it was to grow up in a small community.” His parents owned clothing stores on Broad Street, The Men’s Room and Fancy This. Bailey graduated from Pinecrest in 1979, tried college, worked in fashion/ fabrics, lived in Charlotte, where he married and raised two sons. In 2017 a series of life events (and his elderly parents) drew him back to Southern Pines. But, realizing that people are defined by their digs, where should he live? “I wasn’t interested in building . . . we’d done that,” Bailey says. He looked around, mainly lakefront properties in Whispering Pines and Pinehurst. A friend discovered the Knollwood house which, coincidentally, belonged to the parents of a high school classmate. Bailey was familiar with the area from playing golf at Mid Pines Inn and Golf Club and visiting Peggy Kirk Bell’s family. “I’ve always loved Knollwood Heights . . . it’s the antithesis of a typical Moore County neighborhood. When I walked in the house I didn’t want the Realtor to see how excited I was.” About what, specifically? The house, listed at 3,587 square feet, seems larger because space is lavished on living areas, not bedrooms, which suits Bailey fine. “I get up, shower, get dressed and leave.” Beyond the “formal”
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living and dining rooms (with fireplace and built-ins) is an enormous undivided kitchen-eating-relaxing room, nearly 60 feet long, accommodating an 8-by10-foot island, “where we gather.” Bailey likes to cook, necessitating a few adjustments in the kitchen, namely swapping a flat-top electric range for natural gas. To further increase the spaciousness, Bailey removed a wall surrounding a stairwell leading to the finished basement, allowing even more light to stream through. The 40-foot shallow lap pool was a huge attraction, as was the landscaping planned strategically to screen off neighbors. “I love the seclusion so close to a main road,” Bailey says. And, he loves poring over Hayes’ renderings, which he found rolled up in the crawl space. The basement appealed to an alter ego, eons from modernism. “My man cave,” Bailey calls the underground room containing remnants of his city life and homes: a pool table, office equipment, sports stuff, easy chairs, plaids and a worn leather couch for napping.
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rriving with virtually no furnishings was advantageous, especially since Bailey’s sister, niece and friends volunteered to scour Habitat and Designer’s Showcase for modernist period pieces — many large and showy like the circular étagère, perfect for a wide-open wall in the formal living room. “I’m not an antiques kind of guy,” Bailey admits, a good thing since family heirlooms “went to the girls.” Exceptions: One hallway is devoted to photos of his children. His grandmother’s set of amber glassware lines a shelf. Otherwise, he forges boldly into abstract art; niece Grace Crawford contributed several sculptural, dimensional hangings made from insulation sprayed on canvas, then painted. Other canvases, some encrusted with sparkly granules, add the only primary colors in an otherwise black and near-white environment where Bailey feels comfortable, after years in high fashion.
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In a period piece designed by a notable architect, little things still count. Bailey loves that a door in the master bathroom opens out onto the lap pool deck. Kitsch gets a nod from the white fur bedspreads. And, since he believes Hayes planned this house for entertaining, Bailey enjoys taking advantage by letting the extended family spread out on holidays.
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rchitecture and décor styles go through a process, from avant garde/ trendy to commonplace, then classic. Still pre-classic, mid-century modernism paired with minimalism appears fresh as the azaleas currently ablaze in Knollwood. After four years, Guy Bailey has settled into his stunning surroundings. He acknowledges the serenity simplicity encourages. Practicality, too; open spaces and uncluttered surfaces are easy to clean. But, should nostalgia surface, Bailey can retreat to his clubby, sporty, leather-andplaid man cave; the best of two worlds under one roof. PS
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I will be the gladdest thing Under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers And not pick one. — Edna St. Vincent Millay
A L M A N A C
April n
By Ashley Wahl
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pril is the earliest fawn, dewy eyed and trembling, landing in a world so soft and tender you can barely remember the deep silence, the bleak landscape, the icy ache of winter. The nectar of spring flows steady as milk from the mother. It is the wet kiss from doe to teetering fawn. It is here, now. And it is delectable. Like the fawn, we’ve awakened to a warm and gracious Earth that simply gives. A tabernacle of peepers sings out. In the garden, thin spears of asparagus rise like tiny prayers to the sun, young turnips humming songs of the cool soil. Cottontail rabbit grows plump. Purple martins chatter inside birdhouse gourds and everywhere — everywhere you look — edible flowers bloom. Rosy pink redbud bursting from bare-branched limbs. Violet and clover spilling across lawns. Forsythia and dandelion mushroom like palatable sunshine. Even wisteria — sweet, aromatic miracle — twists around fences, buildings and treetops like ruche fringe, a garden party for this tender new world. The trees are leafing out. There is pollen for the wasps, the beetles, the bees. And, do you hear that? The chorus frogs have reached a crescendo, their many squeaking voices one. The canticle of spring is growing stronger. Whitetail baby mews along.
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Canticle of the Sun and Moon(flowers)
Now that we’ve made it past the last frost, bring on the summer bulbs: gladioli (sword lily), flamboyant cannas, caladium (aka, heart of Jesus, angel wings, elephant ears). Sew the first of the sunflowers. And — at the end of the month — moonflowers. Although they look like morning glories, which open at the earliest touch of light, moonflowers blossom beneath the stars — each ephemeral bloom lasting just one night. Kissed by the light of a near-full moon, the fragrant white flowers are nothing short of enchanting. Create your very own Midsummer Night’s Dream, plus or minus a mischievous garden sprite or two.
Poetry Month
What is a flower but a poem? Same of a tree, a nest, an egg. Of course April is National Poetry Month. Look around. Birds weaving tapestries of needles and grasses. Spring tulips. Dogwoods like angelic flashes of white in naked woods. And, three words: violet blossom jelly. Harvest wild ones in the morning. Three heaping handfuls. Place them in a pretty bowl. Add boiling water. Stir, then keep covered for one rotation of the Earth. Tomorrow, strain the liquid — deep and dark and blue. Add lemon juice; boil. Add cane sugar and pectin; boil and behold: wild fuchsia magic. Just add toast. PS PineStraw
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Arts Entertainment C A L E N DA R
Broadcast Theater: War Horse 4/
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Although conscientious effort is made to provide accurate and upto-date information, all events are subject to change and errors can occur! Please call to verify times, costs, status and location before planning or attending an event.
WEYMOUTH CENTER. The Weymouth Center has tentative events dependent upon the directives of the governor’s office. Visit www.weymouthcenter.org for upcoming event information.
JOY OF ART STUDIO. 2021 Joy of Art Studio Arts continues with lots of fun and creative classes for all ages. Paint with Joy twice a month. Offering both private and small groups with safe distance. Classes are held at Joy of Art Studio, 139 E. Pennsylvania Ave., Suite B, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 528-7283 or www.joyof-art.com or www.facebook.com/ Joyscreativespace/.
DATE NIGHT AT THE SUNRISE. 10 a.m. - 9 p.m. Rent the Sunrise Theater for your private event. Email MaryBeth@ sunrisetheater.com to help you plan your special night out at the Sunrise.
GIVEN BOOK SHOP. The Given Book Shop is open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday - Saturday. Those who wish to enter must wear a face mask, have their temperature taken and abide by rules of social distancing. For those not wishing to enter the bookshop a “to-go” request form can be found at www. giventufts.org/book-request-form/. The Given Book Shop, 95 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 585-4820. GIVEN MEMORIAL LIBRARY. Given Memorial Library is open on a limited basis. Those who wish to enter must wear a face mask, have their temperature taken and abide by rules of social distancing. Please check www.giventufts.org for up-to-date information on the status of open days and hours of operation. For those not wishing to enter the library “to-go” orders can be placed by phone or email. Go to the online catalog. Check for availability, then call (910) 295-6022 or email info@giventufts.com. Staff will fill request and contact with instructions on pickup. Library will return to regular hours on April 5. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. LIBRARY READING PACKETS. Given Memorial Library has new reading packets available, which include craft supplies and activity sheets. Pickup for packets can be done from 10 a.m. - 2 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-6022 or info@giventufts.com. LITTLE READERS. Little Clips for Little Readers features fun rhymes, songs and literacy tips for children aged birth to 5 and their parents and caregivers. Look for these videos posted weekly on SPPL’s Facebook and YouTube channel. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net. MOORE ART SHARE. The Arts Council of Moore County and Given Memorial Library invite citizens of all ages to share their art with the community by submitting it to an online publication. Submissions can include visual arts, music, theater, short stories, videos, photography, recipes and more. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www.mooreart.org.
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SCAVENGER HUNT. Pick up scavenger hunts at the Given Book Shop, Given Memorial Library or online at www.giventurfts.org/program-and-events. The scavenger hunt will take you through the village of Pinehurst and there will be multiple themes such as science, shapes, historic buildings and more. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. SPPL OPEN. The Southern Pines Public Library is now open for browsing. Hours have been extended to 10 a.m. - 7 p.m. Monday through Thursday; 10 a.m. - 5 p.m. Fridays; 10 a.m. - 1 p.m. on Saturdays; and 2 - 5 p.m. on Sundays. In order to keep staff and patrons safe, capacity in the library is limited to 20 people and 15 minutes of browsing time. Masks are required for entry to the library for adults and children 5 and older. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Thursday, April 1 NATIONAL POETRY MONTH. Celebrate National Poetry Month with a writing contest. From April 1 to April 30, Grades K-12 are invited submit poems to lib@sppl.net. Stop by the library to record your poem for everyone to hear on Dial-aStory (910) 900-9099. THEATER SHOW. 10 a.m. and 6 p.m. War Horse. Tickets are $15 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Friday, April 2 ART RECEPTION. 5 - 7 p.m. The April exhibit will showcase the work of Sandhills artist Jude Winkley, who will present her works in a solo exhibit titled “All That Jazz.” The exhibit will be on display through April 29. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979. MOVIE. Godzilla vs. Kong. The movie will play inside the Sunrise Theater and continues through April 10. Tickets are $10 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. OUTDOOR MOVIE. 7:45 p.m. ET. There will be a second showing on April 3 at 7:45 p.m. Tickets are $10 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com.
Book Club: Long Bright River 4/
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Saturday, April 3 PAINTED PONIES AUCTION. The Painted Ponies Auction will be held live and online at www.eventgives.com/paintedponies from 5:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. All proceeds benefit the Carolina Horse Park Foundation. Info: www.carolinahorsepark.com. Monday, April 5 BOOK EVENT. 7 p.m. Join The Country Bookshop for a virtual event with author Kelly Mustian and her book The Girls in the Stilt House. Free event. Info and tickets: www. ticketmesandhills.com. Tuesday, April 6 BOOK EVENT. 7 p.m. Join The Country Bookshop for a virtual event with author Natalie Standiford and her book Astrid Sees All. Free event. Info and tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com. Thursday, April 8 SHAW HOUSE TOURS. 1 - 4 p.m. The Moore County Historical Association’s Shaw House grounds and properties are reopening for tours of the houses and structures, Thursdays and Fridays only. The gift shop will also be open and contains unique items including area history books, vintage soaps, framed canceled-stamp envelopes, and beautifully framed pressed flowers. Tours continue through April 30. Masks are required for indoor touring. Call the Historical Association ahead of time to book a tour at (910) 692-2051. Friday, April 9 ART EXHIBIT OPENING. View the exhibit: “Palustris: Celebrating Longleaf Through the Arts.” The exhibit will remain on display through April 30. Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www.mooreart.org. SYMPHONY. 12 p.m. Friday Favorites: Music from the Movies. This is a streaming concert. There will be another stream on April 30 at 12 p.m. N.C. Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org. Saturday, April 10 MARKETPLACE ON SUNRISE SQUARE. 11 a.m. - 4 p.m. An outdoor market featuring a variety of local small businesses and artisans providing shoppers access to numerous artisans, small businesses, and organizations in a safe, fresh air environment. Pop-up shops are scattered around the Sunrise Square park. Masks are required for everyone ages 2 and up. Dogs are not permitted. Sunrise Square, 260 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Copland and Dvořák. This is a streaming concert. N.C. Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org.
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Sunday, April 11 MOVIE. 2 p.m. Royal Wedding (1951). The movie will play inside the Sunrise Theater. Tickets are $10 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 6923611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Thursday, April 13 GIVEN TO GO. 5:30 p.m. – 6:30 p.m. Elliott’s on Linden and the Given Memorial Library and Tufts Archives are holding a Given to Go fundraiser on Tuesday, April 13, featuring smokehouse brisket, buttermilk mashed potatoes, a vegetable medley and dessert. Tickets are $22 and can be purchased by calling the Tufts Archives at (910) 295-3642 or emailing giventufts@gmail.com. Meal pickup times are 5:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. at the Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Friday, April 16 DINO HUNT. 12 p.m. You and your team of dinosaur hunters can embark on an adventure, spotting and hunting Dinos with a Nerf-style dart blaster from your own car. Cost is $20 per car in advance or $30 at the door. CATHIS Farm, 544 Falcon Road, Lillington. Info: (910) 502-0348 or www. cathisfarm.com/dino-hunt-adventure. OUTDOOR MOVIE. 8 p.m. Movie to be determined. There will be a second showing on April 17 at 8 p.m. Tickets are $10 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Saturday, April 17 SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Appalachian Spring and Mozart Symphony No. 33. This is a streaming concert. N.C. Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org. Sunday, April 18 PLANT SALE. 9 a.m. - 3 p.m. The Pinehurst Garden Club’s Annual Plant Sale Fundraiser will offer plant favorites such as geraniums, vincas and begonias. Green Haven Nursery, 255 Green Haven Lane, Carthage. Info: (910) 420-8214 or www. pinehurstgardenclub.com. WRITING GROUP. 3 p.m. Interested in creating fiction, nonfiction, poetry or comics? Connect with other writers and artists, chat about your craft and get feedback on your work. All levels are welcome. The session will meet via Zoom. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. To join email: lholden@sppl.net. Tuesday, April 20 BINGO. 1 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to come play 10 games of bingo. Prizes given to the winners. Cost is $2/ resident; $4/non-resident. Space is limited to 24 participants. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. Thursday, April 22 CIVIL WAR ROUND TABLE. 6:30 p.m. The guest speaker will be Paul Dunn, round table member and author, with a presentation on “The Religious Beliefs of Abraham Lincoln, Including His Recurring Dreams.” Meeting starts at 7 p.m. Attendance may be limited to 25, reservations will be neces-
sary. Civic Club, corner of Pennsylvania Ave. and Ashe St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 246-0452 or mafarina@aol.com. Friday, April 23 OUTDOOR MOVIE. 8 p.m. Movie to be determined. There will be a second showing on April 24 at 8 p.m. Tickets are $10 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Saturday, April 24 MARKETPLACE ON SUNRISE SQUARE. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. An outdoor market featuring a variety of local small businesses and artisans providing shoppers access to numerous artisans, small businesses, and organizations in a safe, fresh air environment. Pop-up shops are scattered around the Sunrise Square park. Masks are required for everyone ages 2 and up. Dogs are not permitted. Sunrise Square, 260 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Ragtime Kings. This is a streaming concert. N.C. Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org. Tuesday, April 27 PAGE TURNERS. 10:30 a.m. Southern Pines Public Library’s book club will meet via Zoom. The book is Long Bright River, by Liz Moore. Can’t make the live meeting? Head over to the SPPL Page Turners Facebook page to post your thoughts and interact with group members. Info: (910) 692-8235 or email lib@sppl.net. Friday, April 30 OUTDOOR MOVIE. 8 p.m. Movie to be determined. There will be a second showing on May 1 at 8 p.m. Tickets are $10 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. LIVE THEATER SHOW. Join The Encore Center for Charlotte’s Web and Smoke on the Mountain, two live shows for all ages. Shows are running from April 30 through May 7. For tickets or more information about these or other upcoming productions, call (910) 725-0603 or visit www.EncoreCenter.net. UPCOMING EVENTS Saturday, May 1 DERBY GALA. 5:30 - 10 p.m. Join the St. John Paul II Catholic School in your most dapper derby attire. Enjoy an open bar, sit-down dinner, music, live stream of the Kentucky Derby race, a silent auction and more. Tickets are $125. Pinehurst Country Club, 1 Carolina Vista Drive, Pinehurst. Info: www.ticketmesandhills.com. WEEKLY EVENTS Mondays WORKOUTS. 8:30 a.m. - 4:30 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to get their workout on. Open Monday through Friday. Cost for six months: $15/resident; $30/non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. Info: (910) 692-7376. INDOOR WALKING. 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. Improve balance, blood pressure and maintain healthy bones with one of the
TESLA HRC HAIR RESTORATION SOLUTIONS
best methods of exercise. Classes are held at the same time Monday through Friday. Ages 55 and up. Cost for six months: $15/resident; $30/non-resident. Southern Pines Recreation Center, 210 Memorial Park Ct., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. TAP CLASS. 1:30 - 3 p.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost per class: $15/resident; $30/non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. Tuesdays OUTDOOR STORYTIME. 10 a.m. Story times will take place in the newly expanded outdoor story circle this spring. Babies birth to 2 years old and their families are invited for a 20 to 30-minute story session. Each of these sessions is first come, first served with a capacity of 10 families. Masks are required for any participant over the age of 5. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net or email lib@sppl.net. TABLE TENNIS. 7 - 9 p.m. Enjoy playing this exciting game every Tuesday. Cost for six months is $15 for residents of Southern Pines and $30 for non-residents. For adults 55 and older. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. Wednesdays FARM TO TABLE. Join Sandhills Farm to Table Co-op by ordering a subscription of local produce to support our local farmers. Info: (910) 722-1623 or www.sandhillsfarm2table.com. SANDHILLS FARMERS MARKET IN PINEHURST. 3 - 6 p.m. The market will feature local farmers, bakers, crafters and an N.C. fishmonger so locals can purchase fresh fish that is 24 to 48 hours from wave to plate. The market opens on April 14. Fishmonger only comes on Wednesday. Regularly featuring 20 or more farms plus entertainment and opportunities for kids. Tufts Park, Pinehurst. Thursdays OUTDOOR STORYTIME. 3 p.m. Story times will take place in the newly expanded outdoor story circle this spring. Ages 3 to 5 and their families can enjoy a session with literacybuilding skills to help them prepare for kindergarten. Each of these sessions is first come, first served with a capacity of 10 families. Masks are required for any participant over the age of 5. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net or email lib@sppl.net. Fridays TAP CLASS. 10 - 11:30 a.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost per class: $15/resident; $30/non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. Saturdays SANDHILLS FARMERS MARKET IN PINEHURST. 10 a.m. - 1 p.m. The market will feature local farmers, bakers and crafters. The market opens on April 14. Regularly featuring 20 or more farms plus entertainment and opportunities for kids. Tufts Park, Pinehurst. PS
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SOUTHWORDS
Gram “R” Us From hymns to Chips Ahoy
By R enee Whitmore
“I’m going to do some warsh. Do
Even as an 8-year-old, I burst into giggles. “You’re going to what?” “Warsh clothes.” “What is warsh?” A familiar gleam highlighted her hazel eyes. “Oh, Naisy! You just like to laugh at your old Gram.” One Sunday when I was a teenager, I was in church with Gram and Gramps. Standing beside her, I could hear her singing, adamantly and off key: “What can warsh away my sins?” I excused myself and went to the bathroom to get my face straightened up. The hilarity seemed to escape most of the faithful. Gram always pronounced “wash” as if there was an R in it. And every single time, even though I knew it was coming, I would explode with laughter. She knew this, too. Saying “warsh” was just a part of her antics. Gram, whose name was Audrey, was born in 1934. She was a child of the Depression and World War II and saved everything. I remember going through her fridge and pulling out ranch dressing, two years expired. “Gram, this is old. I’m throwing it away.” “It’s probably still good, honey.” The intense mold spotting through the glass looked like an evil science experiment. “Bye, ranch.” I tossed it in the trash can. You know what else Gram saved? Cookies. She loved cookies, especially chocolate chip ones, but any would do. As a kid, I would sneak them out of her kitchen drawers and, as an adult, it wasn’t unusual for me to find a dozen half-eaten cookies wrapped in paper towels hidden here and there in her bedroom. Gram and Gramps (his name was Ray) had three kids. The oldest is my mom, and I’m the oldest of six grandchildren. Gram worked all her adult life as a nurse, and she was a good one. She spent her days taking care of patients and knew how to bark out orders like a drill sergeant. Even as dementia darkened her mind, her wit shined. Once, when
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she was a patient in her own hospital, I found myself talking to one of the attending nurses on the phone. “I asked her what her name is,” the nurse told me. “She said, ‘Puddin’ Tane ask me again and I’ll tell you the same.’ She never would tell me her name.” Gram was an avid reader of this magazine. She always had the latest one, and my columns were bookmarked with Post-it Notes. She could never remember what I had written, but she knew it was her granddaughter behind the words. That made me smile. In her final years, when dementia won the day, she would recite her favorite Scriptures and sing her favorite hymns. She spent her last days in hospice care, and I sang some of her favorites to her, even if I needed a quick YouTube tutorial first. Gram passed away peacefully on August 9, 2020. When I was writing her obituary, I asked my Mom, uncle, siblings and cousins to describe her in one word. Here’s what I got: Tenacious. Feisty. Punchy. Driven. Caring. Steadfast. Faithful. Strong. After Gram passed away, we were going through her stuff, as family does, and in the bottom of her walker, we found a bunch of half-eaten cookies, carefully wrapped in napkins and tissues. The ants had found them, too. If Gram had still been alive and I asked her why she had half-eaten cookies in the bottom of her walker she would have said, “I was saving them for later. You never know when you may need a cookie.” And I would have said, “Gram, we need to warsh your walker.” PS When Renee isn’t teaching English or being a professional taxi driver for her two boys, she’s working on her first book. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
ILLUSTRATION BY MERIDITH MARTENS
you need anything warshed?” Gram asked as she carried the laundry basket full of dirty clothes through the living room.
Photo by Tim Sayer
Buyer, Purveyor & Appraiser of Fine and Estate Jewellery 229 NE Broad Street • Southern Pines, NC • (910) 692-0551 Mother and Daughter Leann and Whitney Parker Look Forward to Welcoming You to WhitLauter. @whitlauter_jewelers
