January 2014 PineStraw by PineStraw Magazine

! n e p O w o N 1550 US Hwy 1 (in the old Raffaeleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Building) Southern Pines, NC 28387 | (910) 692-1952

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January 2014 Volume 9, No. 1

DEPARTMENTS

8 Sweet Tea Chronicles Jim Dodson

10 PinePitch 13 Cos and Effect Cos Barnes

14 The Omnivorous Reader Stephen E. Smith

17 N.C. Writers Notebook Sandra Redding

19 Bookshelf 23 Hollywood in the Hills Gayvin Powers

27 Hitting Home Dale Nixon

29 Vine Wisdom Robyn James

31 The Kitchen Garden Jan Leitschuh

35 Man on the Town

39 Out of the Blue Deborah Salomon

41 An Englishwoman in the Sandhills Serena Brown

43 Birdwatch Susan Campbell

45 The Sporting Life Tom Bryant

49 Golftown Journal Lee Pace

76 Calendar 83 SandhillSeen 91 Thoughts from the Manshed Geoff Cutler

93 The Accidental Astrologer Astrid Stellanova

95 PineNeedler Mart Dickerson

96 SouthWords Bill Rose

Kevin Drum

FEATURES

53 Time Poetry by Deborah Salomon

54 The Huntsman and the Billionaire By Gayvin Powers

An elite life that vanished in the longleaf pines. Part one.

63 Best Reader Memoirs of 2014 By Sally Ronalter

Our first place winner

64 The Sketch Artist By Serena Brown

Artist Betty Silvar draws inspiration from the streets of the pines

69 This Old House By Gayvin Powers

Rebirth of a classic bungalow

75 January Almanac By Noah Salt

Winter Daphne and a little new year advice from young Ben Franklin

2 January 2014 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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PineStraw M A G A Z I N E Jim Dodson, Editor 910.693.2506 • jim@pinestrawmag.com

Andie Stuart Rose, Art Director 910.693.2467 • andie@pinestrawmag.com

Kira Schoenfelder, Graphic Designer 910.693.2508 • kira@pinestrawmag.com

Lauren Shumaker, Graphic Designer 910.693.2469 • lauren@pinestrawmag.com

Judi Hewett, Graphic Designer Serena Brown, Associate Editor CONTRIBUTING EDITORS

Deborah Salomon, Staff Writer Stephen E. Smith, Staff Writer Mary Novitsky, Proofreader Sara King, Proofreader CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

John Gessner, Tim Sayer CONTRIBUTORS

Apparel CoolSweats Gentlemen’s Corner The Faded Rose

Cos Barnes, Harry Blair, Tom Bryant, Susan Campbell, Geoff Cutler, Al Daniels, Annette Daniels, Kimberly Daniels, Mart Dickerson, Kevin Drum, Timothy Hale, Robyn James, Jan Leitschuh, Meridith Martens, Dale Nixon, Lee Pace, Jeanne Paine, Gayvin Powers, Noah Salt, Astrid Stellanova, Angie Tally

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PineStraw Magazine 910.693.2467 145 W. Pennsylvania Avenue Southern Pines, NC 28387 pinestraw@thepilot.com • www.pinestrawmag.com ©Copyright 2014. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. PineStraw magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

4 January 2014 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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www.2014pinehurstgolfrentals.com Â&#x2039; %5(5 $IÂżOLDWHV //& $Q LQGHSHQGHQWO\ RZQHG DQG RSHUDWHG EURNHU PHPEHU RI %5(5 $IÂżOLDWHV //& 3UXGHQWLDO WKH 3UXGHQWLDO ORJR DQG WKH 5RFN V\PERO DUH UHJLVWHUHG VHUYLFH PDUNV RI 3UXGHQWLDO )LQDQFLDO ,QF DQG LWV UHODWHG HQWLWLHV UHJLVWHUHG LQ PDQ\ MXULVGLFWLRQV ZRUOGZLGH 8VHG XQGHU OLFHQVH ZLWK QR RWKHU DIÂżOLDWLRQ ZLWK 3UXGHQWLDO (TXDO +RXVLQJ 2SSRUWXQLW\ PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills Sandhills . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .February January 2014 7

SWEET TEA CHRONICLES

The New Year Me

BY JIM DODSON

Two winters ago, while visiting for the holidays, my daughter, Maggie, made a point of asking me to get her up at the crack of dawn so she could go off to hot yoga class.

At that time I’d only vaguely heard the phrase “hot yoga class” around town, which conjured a charming picture in my mind of thoughtful people concerned about declining yak populations and freeing Tibet and other such noble enterprises sitting peacefully après group meditation in a peace circle on a warehouse floor or a redwood log in the forest drinking organic hot cocoa or maybe green tea, sharing cleansing quiet. Then again, I’m a 60-year-old broken-down golfer with a dodgy right knee from football donkey years ago who still limps around the golf course carrying his own bag for exercise and sometimes, weather permitting, walks to work. “Happy to get you up,” I said. “Hot yoga sounds like fun, especially if they give you hot cocoa.” She stared at me incredulously, as if I’d made an impolite yak mating noise. “Dad, they don’t give you hot cocoa. And I wouldn’t exactly call hot yoga fun, though it is fabulous. I’m totally addicted to it — go twice a week back in New York. It’s what keeps me sane.” “No hot cocoa?” “No. But you really should try it. Seriously. The stretching alone would be great for that old athlete’s body of yours. You’ll feel so wonderful after you finish a session. And the place I’m going to here is such a beautiful space. They play gorgeous meditation music and place lavender-scented cloth on your head and massage your neck with relaxing oils at the end.” “Sounds great,” I agreed. “I guess I can always buy my own hot

cocoa afterward.” “So you’ll go?” “Absolutely.” “Wonderful. You’ll thank me!” But, alas, I didn’t go. Over the next year, in the interest of exercising more and improving my health, I limped around the golf course a little more than usual and steadfastly avoided setting foot in the Taj Mahal of a health club where we belonged, simply because the multitudes of people exercising there — especially the old ones — were so frightening in their dedication to physical fitness. They wore headphones and huffed along on computerized treadmills and other machines that required a basic engineering degree to operate until they looked half-dead, at which point they mopped their brows and sauntered past flabby sometimers like me wearing a look of pure Teutonic smugness. And this was just the old ladies! Back in the late 1960s and early 70s, when I blew out my right knee from idiotically stepping on a kicking tee while playing football, nobody except guys who pissed off the coach by sitting on their helmets during games or lonely aces who couldn’t get a date if their own sisters invited them out went to the gym to actually exercise. The gymnasium wasn’t at all cool except with body builder types who shaved their armpits and actually dated their sisters. In the 80s, I played a great deal of pick-up basketball with college dudes ten years my junior, plus shortstop on two different fast-pitch softball teams. I also hiked in the mountains and ran a couple of 10K road races with a crazy girlfriend who ate tofu by the crate and planned to live forever. Trying to keep up with a skinny girlfriend with the approximate body fat of a Serengeti cheetah, I learned, is no fun at all. She literally left me somewhere around mile five and that was that — for romance and road racing. In the 90s, I built my own house on a hilltop in coastal Maine, rebuilt old

January 2014 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

SWEET TEA CHRONICLES

stone walls, planted stuff, chopped and stacked wood endlessly, and shoveled more snow than one man should probably have to shovel unless he’s in a Soviet gulag in Siberia. I walked a golf course twice a week and even joined my first gym, which I belonged to for about three weeks, until I realized the people reading The Bridges of Madison County on the Stairmaster machine and taking their own pulses actually liked going to the gym. Also, I didn’t like being naked with strangers who loved to admire their toned bodies in full-length mirrors. Had the strangers been female, well, that might have been a different story. Anyway, flash ahead 20 years — lots of chopping and walking and working like a convict in a garden, keeping me more or less in what I called “farmer shape” — to the winter day I finally took my daughter’s advice and showed up at the yoga studio for something called “Warm Flow Yoga.” I was the first to arrive for class on the appointed Saturday morning and discovered the instructor was an attractive young gal named Lisa, who was so charming and blessedly fit, I was tempted to turn and bolt for the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts. Lisa quickly put my qualms to rest, placed me on a rented yoga mat, and explained that the purpose of yoga is to achieve a proper balance between the body and the spirit through various timeless meditational poses meant to exercise the body and liberate the dude within. Being a yoga rookie, I was advised to watch others as they performed the various traditional asanas (postures) and warm-ups and to “listen to my body” by doing only what I felt my old body could handle. “There’s no right or wrong here,” she emphasized. “Yoga is a learning process you must do at your own speed.” Seven women and one guy joined the class and immediately began

stretching out. I started stretching out too, pretending I knew what I was doing, which I didn’t, but rather liked doing anyway, greatly enjoyed in fact, especially watching all these fit middle-aged women in skimpy outfits warming up all around me in the candle-lit room with serene flute music coming from a Tibetan mountaintop. I vaguely wondered if this might be why they call it “hot yoga” but then the class started and all such worldly distractions disappeared as Lisa led the class though a host of flowing postures and breathing exercises meant to still the monkey in the mind, to free our spirits from past and present concerns, to find peace and sacredness of the moment, the simple act of being. Truthfully, Warm Yoga nearly killed me at several points, especially when my dodgy right knee refused to cooperate on a difficult one-legged pose. But somehow, with Lisa’s gentle guidance, I even got through most of the challenging poses, and by the time I was lying flat on my back during the final recovery period, breathing deeply and covered with sweat and relaxed as a steamed lasagna noodle, I truly realized why Maggie and 30 million other Americans find this ancient form of exercise so completely and utterly beguiling. I’d completely forgotten about that final glorious touch — a soothing cool cloth smelling like my old lavender garden back in Maine, placed over the eyes. For a few lovely moments I was back in my old Maine garden, and in a bit of heaven. I left the studio feeling like a new man with an old body that was eager to return as soon as possible. With or without the hot cocoa at the end. PS Contact editor Jim Dodson at jim@pinestrawmag.com

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014

PinePitch Your Art Here Grab your pens, pencils, paints or camera and start creating: The Village of Pinehurst is holding a poster contest to celebrate the opening of the new Welcome Center, which will be located in the Theatre Building this spring. The theme is History, Charm and Southern Hospitality. Don’t delay, the deadline is March 3.

Take Five

Contact Natalie Dean at the Village of Pinehurst for an entry form and details: (910) 295-1900 or ndean@vopnc.org.

5 Women — 5 Faces of Art celebrates its opening reception at the Hastings Gallery on January 9 from 4:30 – 6:30 p.m. The event is open to everyone, so drop by to see paintings, sculpture, drawing and photography. If you can’t make it that evening, don’t worry; the exhibition is up until January 28. Hastings Gallery/Boyd Library, Sandhills Community College, 3395 Airport Road. For more information call Denise Baker: (910) 695-3879.

C Curing the JJanuary Blues K the cold out at The Country Keep Bookshop, where Tim Swink will be signB ing copies of his debut novel, Curing Time, in oon Friday, January 24, at 4:30 p.m. For those in need of spiritual warmth, F pick up a copy of Laurel Stanell’s Early p Morning Walks With God. On New M Year’s resolutions she writes: “Thank Y God that He gives us the chance to G start every day, as we ask for forgiveness and t t again i anytime, ti turn ourselves over to him.” The Country Bookshop, 140 N.W. Broad Street, Southern Pines.

The Art of Learning Follow your muse to The Artists League of the Sandhills on the afternoon of January 5. From 2 – 5 p.m. artists will demonstrate how they teach their styles, for the beginner and accomplished artists alike. Feeling inspired? You can sign up for winter classes. There will be preview demonstrations in drawing, pastel/colored pencil, oil, watercolor, acrylic, ink, and collage. The instructors’ work will be exhibited at The Exchange Street Galley, 129 Exchange Street, Aberdeen, from January 5 – February 11, Monday through Saturday, 12 – 3 p.m. For more information visit www. artistleague.org or contact the League at (910) 944-3979.

Info: (910) 692-3211.

The Morning (and Afternoon) After the Night Before Blow the cobwebs away on New Year’s Day with a First Day Hike to the world’s oldest known longleaf pine tree, a 1.5-mile walk. You’ll learn as you go — the park ranger will explain the history of the Boyd round timber tract and the ecology of the longleaf pine. Meet at the Weymouth Woods Visitor Center and carpool to the Boyd tract. Dress warmly and remember to bring bottled water, binoculars and your camera. Leave Fido at home: No dogs on this walk, please. There are two hikes scheduled: 10 a.m. for early birds, 2 p.m. for the late-night revellers. Weymouth Woods, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. For more info: (910) 692-2167.

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Winter Jam There’s music for everyone at The Rooster’s Wife this month and into February: January 12: the Grandsons with an intro to jazz matinee at 12 p.m. They’ll play an evening show too, as will the Jon Shain Trio. January 19: The Farewell Drifters, harmonic roots music with bluegrass flavor. January 26: Little Country Giants, Lynda Dawson and Patti Hopkins will play vintage Southern folk, bluegrass, and country. February 1: Flatland Harmony Experiment, a progressive string band.

Those Famous Four Notes Get ready to stir your emotions: the North Carolina Symphony will perform one of the most powerful pieces of music ever written: Beethoven’s 5th. They’ll be playing at the Robert E. Lee Auditorium in Southern Pines on January 9, Memorial Hall on the UNC campus (January 12) and the Seabrook Auditorium, Fayetteville State University (January 30). For the Fayetteville performance, a free shuttle service is available from the Airborne & Special Operations Museum parking lot (departure times 7 p.m. & 7:30 p.m.) For full program information, times and tickets visit www.ncsymphony.org or call (919) 733-2750.

The Rooster’s Wife, 114 Knight Street, Aberdeen. Times, tickets and information at www.theroosterswife.org or call (910) 944-7502.

Make the Cut In the Sandhills, January and February are the months to prune trees and shrubs. On January 25, Moore County Extension Agent Taylor Williams will conduct a workshop and demonstration on how to prune and shape broadleaf evergreens; prune flowering trees and shrubs such as crape myrtles and crabapples to enhance their appearance; and prune fruit trees for maximum yield and life. 10 a.m. — 12 p.m. Sandhills Community College Horticultural Gardens, Ball Visitors Center, Airport Road, Pinehurst. Space is limited, so make a resolution to call Tricia Mabe at (910) 695-3882 and reserve your place.

That’s Entertainment! The Carolina Philharmonic has two treats in store this month: On January 12 at 4 p.m. they present a brass quintet at The Village Chapel, 10 Azalea Road, Pinehurst. This event is free and open to the public, but seating is limited, so call ahead to make reservations. Then high-kick your way to the Robert E. Lee Auditorium on February 1 at 7 p.m. Maestro David Michael Wolff will lead the orchestra in a repertoire of musical theater favorites, featuring Broadway star Janine LaManna. Not to be missed! Ticket prices vary. Robert E. Lee Auditorium, Pinecrest High School, Southern Pines. Information: (910) 687-0287 or www.carolinaphil.org.

You Are What You Eat Silent Too Long — What Southern Foods Would Tell Us if They Could Talk is the next Ruth Pauley Lecture by Sandhills Community College associate professor Ray Linville. He will discuss the influences of history and culture on the nutrition of the South, how they affect the region’s public health and how historical, political, socioeconomic and other factors shape the eating habits and food choices of those of us who live in the region. Presented in memory of Mrs. Agnes Buckley. January 14 at 7:30 p.m, Owens Auditorium, Sandhills Community College, Pinehurst. Free and open to the public, no tickets required. For additional information call (910) 245-3132.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014

COS AND EFFECT

Scarf Envy

! x a l e R

How do you want to retire?

Or how I never tamed Gucci

BY COS BARNES

Writers carry around stories in their heads all the time. I am sorry I did not get this one written before my friend Frances Howell died.

Frances and I played golf many years ago, and she would arrive for our nine-hole outing with a three-cornered scarf tied neatly around her head. When we finished the nine holes, her scarf would be intact. If I had worn one, it would have slipped from my straw-like hair multiple times before I got out of the car. I can imagine finally stuffing it in my golf bag and abandoning all hope of style. I do not have that wonderful hair Frances had. Frances would address my Sunday School class with a lovely silk scarf adorning her suit. The scarf never moved from her shoulders, but stayed in place the whole time she talked. Mine would have slipped constantly. Of course, I never bothered with pins, which were probably the secret. My husband made a business trip to Milan, during that era. A non-shopper, he surprised us with gifts for all: a leather belt for our son, Gucci scarves for our two daughters and a large Gucci scarf for me. It was a gorgeous piece of fabric with accents of gold, red and black, but I never tamed that scarf. It was too much material for my neck and shoulders, too large for my waist, and as a result, I never wore it. I’m sure it went the way of some yard sale, but years later, I saw the dilemma solved. I went to one of the houses on the garden club house tour, and there I saw what an enterprising woman did. She had two Gucci scarves framed and displayed over her mantel. They were stunning. PS Cos Barnes is a longtime contributor to PineStraw magazine. She can be contacted at cosbarnes@nc.rr.com.

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THE OMNIVOROUS READER

True South A new guide to “living the good life” down South by the editors of Garden and Gun is fun, informative and probably meant for your Yankee cousins

BY STEPHEN E. SMITH

I’ve been read-

ing haughty, self-conscious books about Southern eccentricities since, well . . . , since I learned to read, and I can assure you there’s not enough real estate in this magazine — or in all the magazines I’ve ever read — to separate the good books from the bad, the useful from the chaff. If you’re new to the South and you don’t want to spend the remainder of your natural life contemplating the subtleties of various barbecue sauces, there are a couple of necessary literary selections you should have at your fingertips. The first is The Encyclopedia of Southern Culture, a 1,600-page compendium that’s an absolute necessity for any library. And the second is To Kill a Mockingbird, a work of fiction that transcends much of our literature, Southern or otherwise (certainly Absalom, Absalom! belongs on the list, but Faulkner can be a dark and troubling read for the neophyte). If books won’t suffice, you’ll find TV programs such as Duck Dynasty, Swamp People and, God help us, Honey Boo Boo, and there are a surfeit of magazines, websites, broadsides, monographs, pamphlets, plays, recordings, films and obliging storytellers to assuage your curiosity. So it was with some trepidation and not a little weariness that I picked up the latest volume dedicated to who and where we are: The Southerner’s Handbook: A Guide to Living the Good Life by the editors of Garden and Gun, a bimonthly, Charleston-based lifestyle magazine that offers articles on travel, sporting life, food, music, the arts and literature.

14 January 2014

Before you slap down $17 for this 300-page guide, be advised that it’s exactly as advertised; it’s a handbook and doesn’t necessarily lend itself to a compelling cover-to-cover read. But if you’re seeking a rudimentary knowledge of the finer points of Southern living, such as the uses of seersucker, white bucks, cowboy boots, hats, lemonade, party punch, mint juleps, bourbon, ticks, trout, frogs, alligators, snakes, kudzu, Southern dialects, the blues, hunting, fish batter, fried chicken, hot biscuits, sausage gravy, desserts, ramps, grits, okra, cast-iron skillets — the usual detritus — you’ll find expositions sufficient to satisfy your needs. The handbook opens with an epigraph by our own Clyde Edgerton and an introduction by David DiBenedetto, the editor of Garden and Gun, and is then divided into six parts — Food, Style, Drink, Sporting and Adventure, Home & Garden, and Arts and Culture. Most of the articles are unattributed, generally middlebrow, and presented with a touch of cheekiness, which seems to acknowledge the impossibility of breaking down the South into its component parts. If, for example, you’re considering establishing a hennery in your yard — these days Southerners are back to raising cluckers in town as well as in the country — the handbook offers a few thousand words on yardbirds. Under the subheading “What About the Lawn?” you’ll discover this useful suggestion: “Chickens are going to scratch, so you can surrender a corner of your yard or invest in a mobile coop. A coop on wheels keeps the flock from wearing out one spot, plus it helps spread natural fertilizer all around. ‘Chickens are just pooping machines,’ Lagare-Floyd says. ‘And the grass is always greener where they’ve been. Their poop is amazing fertilizer.’” If you’re a Southerner, you’ll probably say, “Hey, I already knew that!” But transplants from Seattle, San Diego or West Palm Beach might find the suggestion helpful. And the same level of instruction is available for growing tomatoes, collecting antique linens, gardening, constructing a rope swing, making a wreath, shining silver and so forth. The more abstract entries are written by authors whose names you might

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

THE OMNIVOROUS READER

Stephen Smith’s most recent book of poetry is A Short Report on the Fire at Woolworths. He can be reached at travisses@ hotmail.com.

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recognize. Roy Blount Jr. discourses on telling a great story, man vs. weed and sipping whiskey; Julia Reed on throwing the ultimate party; Jonathan Miles on drinking like a Southerner; Jack Hitt on the beauty of cooking a whole hog; John T. Edge on why Southern food matters; and Daniel Wallace on the great Southern novel, rules of the road trip, and Southernisms. A couple of entries are both informative and memorable. Dominique Browning’s “Memories of a Southern Home” will awaken recollections for anyone raised in the South. “There was always someone rocking on a deep porch, and wide hallways gave on to staircases that led to upper floors . . . . The house was old and held a family’s history in its rooms . . . .” And Ace Atkins’ “The Truth about Robert Johnson and the Devil” traces the oft-repeated legend about the crossroads encounter back to its source. When visitors come seeking the ghost of the archetypal bluesman, Atkins tells them the truth: “I talk about public records and the venereal-disease statistic of the Great Depression, but no one wants to hear it. They want to know about Johnson’s life as heard through his eerily tuned guitar and the voice of a man who walked with hoodoo stones in his passway, side by side with the devil, just long enough to tell his tale. It’s a good story, if not a true one.” Most of the recipes in the “Food” section are Mama Dip simple, but I would caution readers to sample the fare before inviting guests over for dinner. The instructions for “Perfect Fried Chicken,” which I tried, are especially suspect, and “Great Grits” recipe is a victim of hyperbole. (Hey, buy the good grits, follow the cooking directions and top them with a flavorful spice or topping. Simple enough.) And if the recipes for kudzu sound good to you, have at it. Although the editors included an excellent entry on how to “Catch and Pick a Blue Crab,” they don’t offer a recipe for making crab cakes, a must in any Southern coastal kitchen. I grew up on the Eastern Shore of Maryland — a backwater as Southern as Mississippi — and here’s how you do it. Catch, steam and pick the crabs yourself. Do not use pasteurized supermarket crabmeat that has no taste. If the crabs don’t kick, don’t cook. The meat must be fresh; otherwise, it can kill you. Sprinkle in breadcrumbs, mix in a little beaten egg, sautéed onions and shape into cakes. Salt and pepper to taste. Fry them slowly in butter until golden brown. Chomp away. Like everything in the South, it’s simple, delicious, and maybe a little dangerous. PS

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014 15

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Carolina Poetry Society Adult Contest is January 10. Check out ncpoetrysociety.org for descriptions of the ten categories offered and guidelines for entering. Winning poems will be published in Pinesong; poets will read their prize-winners at the May Awards Day held at Weymouth Center in Southern Pines. The North Carolina Writers’ Network (NCWN) requires submissions to the Rose Post Creative Nonfiction Competition to be postmarked January 17. The deadline for the Thomas Wolfe Fiction Prize is January 30. Info: ncwriters.org.

Making Sense BY SANDRA REDDING

How to Entice a Publisher

Savvy writers find novel ways to attract publishers. After Clyde Edgerton completed Raney, his first book, he wrote Louis D. Rubin, co-founder of Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill. Rubin loved baseball. If Rubin would agree to read his novel, Edgerton promised to send a prized autographed baseball along with the manuscript. Rubin published the novel . . . and sent back the baseball. Edgerton’s twelfth book, Papadaddy’s Book for New Fathers: Advice to Dads of All Ages, was published last spring. Why not give Edgerton’s method a try? If your genre is history, promise a relic. If you’re a poet, send a nightingale. Write mysteries? Maybe a pistol will get the publisher’s attention. Romance? Use your own imagination for that one. Sadly, Rubin died last November. He was 89. A revered teacher, first at Hollins, and later, Chapel Hill, he wrote numerous books and mentored several prominent North Carolina writers, including Jill McCorkle and Edgerton. He will be missed.

Author! Author!

“We walked along the crackling road. Those winter mornings were so cold that I felt I would ring like an anvil if my father touched me.” Thus begins Fred Chappell’s lyrical novel, Brighten the Corner Where You Are. What a wonderfully evocative description of winter. But when the weather turns frosty, I’ll be inside reading two January releases recommended by Terry Kennedy, poet and associate director of the UNC-Greensboro Creative Writing Program: Drew Perry’s, Kids These Days and Sarah Addison Allen’s latest novel, Lost Lake. Kids These Days is book number two for Perry, who teaches writing at Elon University. His Meet & Greet schedule includes five appearances in January, two in Greensboro: O.Henry Hotel, Greensboro (January 26, 5 p.m.) and UNCG Visiting Writers Series, Greensboro (January 30, 8 p.m.) Allen, from Asheville, is noted for the wizardry she weaves with magic realism. Her four previous novels possess a strong sense of place combined with whimsical characters that charm their way into readers’ hearts. If this one follows suit, it will be another winner.

Winning the Game

Writing contests are more abundant than snowflakes in January, so polish up your prose and poetry pages. The submission deadline for the 2014 North

For twenty-five years, the Visiting Writers Series (VWS) at Lenoir Ryne University in Hickory has lived up to its mission statement: “We believe the beauty and power of words help us make sense of the world.” The 2014 lineup is packed with beauty and power: Belle Boggs, LRU’s Spring Visiting Writer in Residence and short story writer, on January 16; Isabelle Wilkerson, the first AfricanAmerican woman to win a Pulitzer Prize in journalism, on February 20; Joseph Bathanti, poet, novelist and professor, on March 6; Sherman Alexie, poet and filmmaker, on March 27; and Mary Pope Osborne, children’s book author, on April 5. All events are free and open to the public. Info: visitingwriters.lr.edu.

“A thing may happen and be a total lie; another thing may not happen and be truer than the truth.” From The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. O’Brien will be reading at UNC Wilmington on January 15, 7 p.m.

Writer Wisdom

Each month this page will include advice from an established North Carolina writer. In February, words from a live scribe will be published, but this time we dipped into the past. Burton Raffel, who selected and wrote the introduction to 41 Stories by O.Henry, states that this popular writer, born as William Sydney Porter right here in North Carolina, “taught himself to turn mundane material into magical fiction.” O.Henry’s secret was persistence. During one 30-month period, he wrote and sold a short story every week. So, gaze at the stars or walk in the woods for inspiration, but don’t let your keyboard get dusty. Follow O.Henry’s example. Keep writing; keep loving to write. We need your help. Which living North Carolina writer would you like to see featured in Writer Wisdom? Have you recently published a book or won a writing prize? Is your group or organization sponsoring a contest or planning a conference? What’s your favorite writing retreat? Keep us informed of literary happenings in your corner of the state. Send to sanredd@earthlink.net. Greensboro writer Sandra Redding’s first novel, Naomi Wise: A Cautionary Tale, has just been published.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014 17

18 January 2014

BOOKSHELF

January Books

BY KIMBERLY DANIELS

January is the most wonderful time for

books. The holidays are over and your obligations have let up just enough to take some time this month for yourself. Sit by the fire, make some tea and turn your attention to that lovely stack of books you have been trying to read for months. Now you have the time! No holiday engagements or errands — just peace. If you are looking to add to your stack of books, here are some of our favorites from the last year. The Wayward Girls of Samarcand by Melton McLaurin and Anne Russell is about the ladies’ correctional institution in our area that burned some years back. The Light Between Oceans by M. L. Stedman has been a book club favorite. It tells the story of a childless couple who live in a remote lighthouse and one day find a child. This is a wonderful read with great moral dilemmas. We like The Last Original Wife by Dorothea Benton Frank, which is about a woman who one day looks around her dinner table at the club and realizes that she is the last original wife out of all of the couples sitting with her. In the same wonderful, sweet class is The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion, a book about a man with a bit of a compulsive disorder who is looking for a wife. He falls in love, but not where he thinks he will find it. Julie Thomas’ beautifully written and moving The Keeper of Secrets follows a violin’s worldwide journey through the decades. Mrs Queen Takes the Train is a fun read by William Kuhn. The Queen

of England decides to amuse herself and walks out of the palace. No one knows where she has gone. A comedy of errors ensues as the palace people try to find her before anyone discovers what is going on. Bill Maher — the man I like to refer to as our nonfiction guru — read some marvelous books over the last year. Here are his favorites: Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History by S.C. Gwynne. The Monuments Men by Robert Edsel and Bret Witter, about the men who raced against the Nazis to save the world’s greatest artworks. The Heart of Everything That Is: The Untold Story of Red Cloud, The American Legend by Bob Drury and Tom Clavin. The Bully Pulpit: Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft and the Golden Age of Journalism by Doris Kearns Goodwin. Put this at the top of your January book pile — it was Bill’s pick for Christmas.

BY ANGIE TALLY

Kid Picks

Escape from Mr. Lemoncello’s Library by Chris Grabenstein. If Charlie and the Chocolate Factory had been set in a library, it would have been much like this fun book for ages 8-12. The Eye of Minds by James Dashner. What if video games allowed you to feel, taste, touch and smell everything you could see virtually? What if when you died virtually, you really died? This mystery/thriller is perfect for the video game lover. Flo & Wendell by William Wegman. Using photos of his own beloved Weimaraners, the author spins an adorable tale of a fun-loving brother and sister.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014 19

, Southern Pines, NC

BOOKSHELF

The Day the Crayons Quit by Drew Daywalt, illustrated by Oliver Jeffers. A runaway bestselling title, this collection of letters from the crayons in one boy’s box details exactly how each of them feels. Red would love a break from holiday overuse, purple would like to be used for something other than wizards’ robes and dragons, and beige, well, beige just wants a chance. Secret Pizza Party and Dragons Love Tacos, both by the amazing team of Daniel Salmieri and Adam Rubin. The artist and author team from Brooklyn are hilarious fun for 3-7 year olds (and adults) who like to laugh. Ever since we had an event with Matthew Cody we have had a great time with Will in Scarlet, Matt’s retelling of the Robin Hood story. We’ve also enjoyed Powerless and Super, two books chronicling the life of a boy without superpowers living in a world of superheroes. Our favorite historical fiction titles of the year were The Secrets of Shakespeare’s Grave and Tower of the Five Orders by Deron R. Hicks. Colophon, a 12-year-old girl destined to run her family’s publishing company, joins her father and brother on adventures to London which lead her to dig deep into the lives of Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe. There will be six more books in this fantastic series. The amazing author/illustrator Brian Floca joined us to share Locomotive, his thoroughly researched, breathtakingly illustrated history of trains. Locomotive is our pick for the Caldecott award. 2013 was a great year for books. The New Year promises wonderful things also. Here are some of the books we’re looking forward to in 2014: The Ghosts of Tupelo Landing, the sequel to Sheila Turnage’s Newbery-winning Three Times Lucky. Noggin is John Corey Whaley’s darkly humorous tale of a teenage boy who returned from the dead five years after his head was cryogenically preserved. The True Adventures of Nicolo Zen by Nicholas Christopher, a romantic adventure with magical realism and lush historical detail that will appeal to fans of The Night Circus. New Greetings From Somewhere, the illustrated chapter book series by Harper Paris and Marcos Calo. Second graders and twins Ethan and Ella are sad about moving away from their hometown to travel the world with their mom, a journalist, and dad, who will home school them. But before they go they have a mystery to solve. PS PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014 21

22 January 2014

H O L LY W O O D A N D T H E H I L L S

All in the Family The untold story of Miss Piggy’s personal stylist

Styling Miss Piggy for Muppets in Space BY GAYVIN POWERS

Betty Lou Skinner, my fabulously

fiery redheaded neighbor, is hairstylist to the stars. Robert Redford, George Clooney and Miley Cyrus are listed among her dazzling clientele. Hollywood royalty have graced her golden chair, getting their locks trimmed by her celestial scissors or, in Sir Ben Kingsley’s case, buzzed with a razor set on number one. On my walk to her Southern Pines home, I pondered how she successfully coiffed the glamorous in nearly 70 films for more than 20 years and doing all of it while living in North Carolina.

At Betty Lou’s home, Ramsey, her white Devon Rex cat, who was named by Dennis Quaid, greets me. Ramsey curls up next to me as Betty Lou and I chat about the multitude of actors and actresses she’s styled. “Viola Davis?” I ask, as if checking off a list. “Yes,” she says. “Such a great lady to be around . . . and funny.” “Sir Michael Caine?” “Ooh, yes,” she adds, her voice almost a purr. “Who was your favorite to style?” She thinks for a while, then blurts out, “Miss Piggy.” “WHAT?!” I ask. “THE Miss Piggy?” This is “not not not” Fozzie Bear or finer than frog’s hair, Kermit; this is the pigs-in-space-“Kermie”-loving Miss Piggy. She nods in agreement, chuckling at my response. “Every time Miss Piggy went on set, I had to go too. She had to constantly

have her hair straightened,” she says, laughing at the playfulness on set. “The boys were so rough on her.” I believe it. Growing up, I remember watching The Muppets on Sunday nights with my grandfather, each of us enamored with how Miss Piggy effortlessly “karate chopped” her way across the galaxy. It was easy for me to understand how the wacky characters and funky hairstyles on set could lead to hijinks during the filming of Muppets in Space — her favorite film to work on. The question remains: How did a girl from Maxton, North Carolina, with dreams of becoming a hairstylist or fashion designer, grow up to become Miss Piggy’s go-to gal? As one of eight children, when Betty Lou graduated from high school, she had a choice to make: adventure or live near her close-knit family. Simple living and family won out in the end. She graduated from beauty school, eventually started her own family and established Hair Unlimited, a hair salon in Laurinburg that she’s owned since 1979. One momentous day in 1989, a few of Betty Lou’s regulars, who were extras on Billy Bathgate (a period movie filmed locally), came to get their hair styled for the film, which was set in the 1930’s. The results were the cat’s pajamas. Betty Lou, who loves period-piece films and hairstyles, sent her customers away looking as cute as a bug’s ear and was soon asked by Roy Bryson, third hairstylist on the film, if she could work on set. Betty Lou and Pam Priest, Betty Lou’s stylist friend who also worked on Billy Bathgate, did so well that Bryson asked both of them back for another film he was working on, eventually helping get them into the Local 798 New York union. That’s when, as Betty Lou describes it, “the domino effect” happened; once she was a part of the union and more people recommended her, “work began trickling in.” While building her credibility in film, Betty Lou was fortunate to have a good home life and stable income back in North Carolina. Since family and

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24 January 2014. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

H O L LY W O O D A N D T H E H I L L S

Clockwise top left: With Sir Ben Kingsley in House of Sand and Fog; Kelly Preston in Last Song; Theresa Russell in Wild Things; Liam Hemsworth and Miley Cyrus in Last Song. Center: Sir Michael Caine and Luis Guzman cutting their stylists’ hair during the filming of Journey 2: The Mysterious Island.

living a quality life were paramount, she was able to achieve success early on with her salon and not struggle the way many people who chase a dream by moving to a big city like Los Angeles or New York do. “I was happy to grow slower,” she says about her career in film. “I’m closely bound to my home — I couldn’t give that up. I never wanted to give up the quality of life I have here.” In all her years of working in film, she credits Bryson with giving her the best advice. “Just do the best work you can. Pay attention. And you’ll be fine.” That is precisely what she’s done for two decades: Every time she works, she focuses on simply doing her best. It’s important to keep a cheerful attitude even though conditions on set aren’t always conducive to doing one’s best. A normal day for a film stylist starts at 4 o’clock in the morning, may involve wading knee-deep in snow, mud or rain between shots and finish the week having worked eighty to ninety hours. “Most times we don’t get breakfast because we’re too busy,” she adds, “but when they (actors) come in and sit down, you need to always be pleasant and nice, regardless of whether you’re having a bad day or not.” A cranky stylist can affect an actor’s performance, especially if she or he is preparing for an intense scene. Film crews can be away from home for months at a time and everyone works grueling hours. Therefore, it’s imperative to get along. “It’s strange to leave for a film and only know the person that hired you. But soon you’re seeing the same faces over again. It’s long hours, you have to get along; you become like a family.” When filming ends, “It’s always good to get a call for another film and

know that you’re going to be able to see part of your family again, your friends,” she says, smiling warmly. Recently, she worked once more with Troy Wade, a dolly grip whom she hadn’t seen since 1999; the reunion took place in Asia on an untitled Michael Mann project. Wade had recently moved back to Wilmington, and Betty Lou was delighted to discover a number of her other on-set friends had moved there too. Akin with Betty Lou, Wade was happy to live here instead of Los Angeles. Wilmington could provide him a better quality of life. At first, Betty Lou didn’t understand the extent of how much working on a film would take her away from her family in North Carolina. “Make sure you love what you’re doing,” she recommends to people wanting to work in film. “You’ll miss holidays, birthdays, anniversaries and more. You have to really enjoy it, otherwise, it isn’t worth it.” Similar to the glamorous Ava Gardner, who grew up in Smithfield, Betty Lou always comes home. Whether she’s primping actors on set or cutting the locks of locals in her North Carolina salon, what matters most to her is that she’s doing what she loves and she’s with her family. Every time she makes a film, her family keeps growing, even including the iconic Miss Piggy in her family tree. I can imagine Miss Piggy now in Betty Lou’s chair. “Oh, Betty,” she’d coax in a tone saved for saying “Kermie.” “Can you make Moi more gorgeous? No. But spray my hair stronger than Fort Knox so I can unleash Moi’s karate chop!” Aah, family. PS Gayvin Powers is a frequent contributor to the magazine.

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January 2014 P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

h i tt i n g h o m e

Let it Snow

The worse the predictions, the longer the grocery store list

By Dale Nixon

January marks the hope of new begin-

nings, optimism for the coming new year and a time for resolutions to be made that are sometimes kept but oftentimes broken.

For me, January marks the beginning of our real winter in the South and the beginning of a season when grocery stores are racking up over winter weather forecasts. It makes good sense. Who else can you think of that has more to gain from the prediction of sleet, snow or a wintry mix? When a woman hears: “Our area forecast calls for a chance of sleet or snow,” what does she do? She rummages through her kitchen cabinets to see what she is out of and makes a snow grocery store list. Now, a snow grocery store list is nothing like a fair weather grocery store list. A fair weather grocery store list would include fresh vegetables and fruits, cleaning supplies, toiletries and cereal. We want plenty of starch and cholesterol in our snow grocery store list. This list would include the makings of twenty pounds of spaghetti sauce, ten pounds of chili beans, a side of country ham and two dozen eggs. We also want our snow grocery store list to include some instants. We want instant coffee, instant fire logs (the kind women and children can start) and instant snacks (the kind you eat straight from the box, in high volume if need be). We need the ingredients to make creamy soups and thick sandwiches. And don’t forget plenty of milk, sugar and vanilla to make the snow cream. We also want to be careful to buy only food that can be started early in the morning and left to simmer on the stove all day. We will then be free to

play in the snow or slide down a hill with our children or grandchildren or simply stare at the snowflakes as they drift from the sky. After we make our snow grocery store lists, we join the ranks of the snow grocery store shoppers. This is where we fight with friends and cohorts over the last carton of milk on the shelf or the last loaf of bread. When our kitchens are sufficiently stocked for the onslaught of winter, we wait . . .and we wait . . . We run to the windows and wait for the first snowflake to fall. Some of us have been known to stay up half the night waiting. In either event, all I know is, if I could recoup all of the money I had spent in the grocery stores each time a weatherman pointed out a snowflake hovering over our area, I could own my own chain of grocery stores. If grocery stores don’t sponsor winter weather forecasts, they should. Think of the angles. “This snow prediction is brought to you today by Food Lion, which has the lowest prices on your starch and cholesterol products.” “Sleet and icy weather conditions are sponsored by Harris Teeter, the store that has plenty of milk and bread.” Or: “In the event of snow or freezing rain, a listing of school closings will be broadcast live from Lowes supermarkets. We’d also like to mention at this time that Kroger will be running a special during the hours of the broadcast on fire logs and vanilla. Buy one; get one free.” I guess you can tell from this column that the possibility of weather forecasts and grocery chains being in cahoots doesn’t bother me at all. I will continue to listen to the predictions, and I will continue to buy. They’ve had me “snowed” for a long time. PS Columnist Dale Nixon may be contacted at dalenixon@carolina.rr.com.

The first round after a great round starts here. The Ryder Cup Lounge Just off the porch of the historic Carolina Hotel, the Ryder Cup offers a generous selection of draft beers, scotch and bourbon as well as a mouth-watering menu with everything from Jumbo Lump Crab Cake Sliders to Backyard Rib Stacks. So after your last putt drops, pick up a glass at the Ryder Cup.

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January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

• Twenty bottled beers

Vine Wisdom

Resolutions For a Grape Year By Robyn James

Each New Year I always think about the different avenues to travel in the wine world. Here are some tips for adventurous tasting.

Try a new grape that is completely foreign to you. This is so much fun. Remember the ABC club? Anything but chardonnay? Branch out and enjoy the versatility of wine. You wouldn’t eat the same food every day, so experiment with your beverage. Try a gavi or arneis from Italy, a meaty bonarda from Argentina or an elegant mencia from Spain. Find a trusted wine merchant. It’s tricky for a merchant to purchase great examples of so many different wines — but not impossible. The choices are endless, so buying bad wine shouldn’t be an option. (Life’s too short, right?) Once your merchant gets to know you and your palate they can steer you toward appropriate choices and away from those they suspect you won’t enjoy. No more buying bottles because they have a pretty label. Buy mixed cases to further experimenting. I always do this. It’s a great way to further your tasting and try different wines with different dishes. Download a food and wine pairing chart and match your selections to different cuisines. Blow some bubbles! We don’t drink enough sparkling wine. Cast away the idea that they are only for celebrations. Bubbles are the perfect aperitif. They arouse your palate, preparing it to appreciate the meal at hand. There are so many styles of sparkles to choose from, from the light and fun pink prosecco to the full and heavier French Champagne. Stick with wine instead of distilled liquor. My most unpopular resolution. Sorry, but here’s the short and sweet reality: Wine: Healthy low alcohol beverage naturally fermented from fruit. Liquor: High alcohol beverage from distilled grains. Anesthetizes your palate. Educate yourself. Take advantage of the numerous tastings offered in your community. Tastings are generally very affordable ways to taste a number of different wines for a nominal fee and an opportunity to chat up the winery or distributor rep for detailed information about the wines. Drink that special bottle now. The saddest part of my job is discovering that someone held onto that special bottle until it turned to vinegar. As we say, wine is a living beverage, it has youth, middle age, old age and it dies. The special occasion you are waiting for is now. So prepare a meal, have your friends and family over, and crack open that bottle! PS Robyn James is proprietor of The Wine Cellar and Tasting Room in Southern Pines. Contact her at winecellar@pinehurst.net.

January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

T h e k i tc h e n g ar d e n

Carolina Dreamin’ Can an olive oil industry thrive in the Tar Heel State? One man thinks so

By Jan Leitschuh

All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray. I’ve been for a walk on a winter’s day . . . California dreamin’ on such a winter’s day. — The Mamas and the Papas As January winds whistle and slice across the Carolina coastal plains, one man entertains a bold, sun-baked Mediterranean vision of silvery olive leaves and extra-virgin golden oil. He’s not taking a cruise. By the time this article appears, Lumberton farmer Lem Barnes should have 60 to 120 specially selected olive trees rooted in the sandy soils of his farm’s test plot. Yes, olives — grown with a premium, artisanal, organic, local olive oil in mind — yes, in the humid South. And yes, improbably, this far north into Carolina. And yes, Barnes is a dreamer, but he also has follow-through chops. He’s an experienced, third-generation conventional blueberry grower and the current owner of New Dawn Organics. He also has chef training. And he would like to see this heat-loving Mediterranean and California crop thriving and producing in North Carolina’s coastal plain regions within a decade. There is precedent. While the United States produces less than one-tenth of 1 percent of the world’s olive oil, those few drops of homegrown oil are squeezed out of groves in California, Texas, Arizona — and now Georgia. The first modern olives harvested east of the Mississippi were squeezed just two years ago. The chefs of Savannah swooned at this first pressing, pronouncing the extra virgin Georgia product outstanding — “buttery, smooth and grassy,” with a pure freshness unmatched by imported oils. They drizzled the Georgia gold on heirloom tomatoes, and dredged rustic wedges of bread through the stuff. But the improbable tale of the Southern olive extends much further back in time. Olive trees actually flourished once along Georgia’s 100-mile coast. The original trees were planted in the 1590s by Spanish settlers at missions established in southeast Georgia. British Colonists found mature Spanish olive trees after

their arrival in 1773. Plantations on the barrier islands of St. Simons, Sapelo and Cumberland grew olives and pressed their oil well into the 1800s. However, the trees were wiped out after a series of disruptions such as natural weather disasters, the Civil War, and shifts in land ownership where farming took second billing to winter residential island retreats for uber-wealthy Yankee industrialists. Even further back, Founding Father and progressive farmer Thomas Jefferson sent olive trees down to South Carolina to see how they would fare. They died. The Georgia successes are much farther south, in the southern part of the state along the Florida line. The Texas trees are even farther south. So a North Carolina oil industry looks like a roll of the dice for the Mediterranean tree. But Barnes, 46, says that with proper selection of cold-hardiest varieties, a homegrown Tar Heel olive oil has a fighting chance of seeing a bottle in our down east USDA Climate Zone 8, especially in view of climate change bringing longer, hotter summers. (Southern Pines is very early Zone 8a, and Lumberton — an hour southeast — is even more firmly so.) The Spanish arbequina olive, for example, is widely grown in California and said to be hardy up to Zone 8, a zone where the average annual extreme temperature sometimes dips to as low as 10–15 degrees for short periods. Though the arbequina olive is happiest with the lowest temps in the 20s, reports suggest it can survive lower bouts. Even more astonishing are reports of survival in parts of Zone 7, with favorable microclimates and protection techniques. Those include planting against a south-facing wall (attention, adventurous home gardeners), restricting irrigation after Labor Day and annually mounding 18 inches of soil around the trunk from November to March, until the tree has been in the ground about five years. Mature trees can take a bit more cold, it is said. In addition, olive trees need what we have in abundance — long, hot summers. But talk is cheap. And Barnes wants to grow on an agricultural scale, not a garden situation. He wants to see an NC specialty olive oil industry. So he’s decided to roll those dice. This winter he is replanting his Lumberton olive nursery (the deer browsed earlier efforts) with six to twelve varieties to test, at ten to twelve trees per variety. The trees themselves will tell him which ones favor the Carolinas. “I’m prepared to lose a few soldiers. Someone has to go first,” he says wryly. “We need to have those first pioneering farms that are larger than 6–8 trees in

T h e k i tc h e n g ar d e n

a test plot.” Sourcing plants from the Georgia olive farms, his test plot will have three different Spanish and three different Italian olive varieties. Through contacts in Texas and California, he’ll also try other strains. He’s doing this fully out of pocket, without grants, without state-funded research. Why the willingness to put his own money where his enthusiasm lies? That story actually lies with the blueberries. Barnes grew up in bustling Cary but spent his long, hot summers working on the family’s conventional farm down east in White Lake, Bladen county — the third generation Barnes to do so. In 1991, he enrolled in a culinary program and was living in Atlanta, planning to be a chef, when he got a call from his uncle who managed the home farm. “He was diagnosed with bone cancer, and he wanted me to come back, just for the ’92 season,” says Barnes. “I had 10–12 years of experience at that point, and running the whole operation that summer was something I knew I could do. After, I was planning to return to Atlanta, but that summer the blueberry bug hit me hard.“ He spent the next two years learning from his uncle exactly what blueberry farming was and how to coax the best from their different varieties. His uncle died on October of ’93. “My uncle opened my eyes up to the seasonal labor of love,” he says. “It wasn’t long after his passing that I began to think of new ways.” One of those new ways was organics. In the late 1990s, Barnes began to wonder about other methods of crop culture. “I knew it was where we needed to go from a farming perspective,” he says. “How can I do my part to help preserve and protect our environment? I allowed myself to talk myself out of it for several years, but the voice in my head kept getting louder.” Yet Bladen county, heart of the NC blueberry scene, had an abundance of blueberry pests and diseases, and Barnes wanted to minimize spraying. So he began to search farther afield for land to plant his blueberries. In 2009, Barnes purchased a 252-acre tract of land in Robeson county. Ninety acres

of that was cleared for farmland. Now the work began. Most consumers think “organic” means “unsprayed,” but the process begins in the dirt. “I’d moved from running a conventional farm with over 400 acres of blueberries to figuring out a smaller, more organic system,” he says. “Your whole mindset has to change. The focus has to shift to the soil. What do I have to do to cleanse it, after being farmed four decades conventionally? My soil was injured and had been stressed. From the microbiological perspective, I had little of the beneficial bacteria and fungi that aid any crop. You have to start the slow, arduous process of helping your soil back to a healthy state.” Much of that is leaving things be. “It’s not so much what you do, but rather what you don’t do. You have to stay out of the way and not dump herbicides or pesticides,” he says. “You need to have a relationship with your soil.” And with the entire local ecosystem. There are certain flowering weeds, for example, that Barnes fosters.“They support beneficial insects that pollinate berries and keep pest insects in check.” As the harmony re-establishes itself on the farm, “you can’t take credit for it. I just stay out of the way and let nature find the balance. If I don’t push to try to get the maximum potential yield out of the field every season, it will stay healthy and continue to produce.” Barnes planted twenty-six acres in organic blueberries, a half-acre of blackberries, and an assortment of fruit trees. But with berry-season action focused on the summer, Barnes became restless, and began looking for something to do in fall. He recalled an old American Fruit Growers magazine from the early 2000s. The issue spoke about the California olive industry, which was starting to take off with high-density plantings of arbequina and two other coldhardy, self-fertile varieties that had potential for areas with colder winters

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January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

T h e k i tc h e n g ar d e n

and/or that were a little wetter at times. Barnes had gotten excited about North Carolina possibilities back then, and even encouraged a neighbor in White Lake to try it. The man casually planted a number of trees, and they died. “So I lost sight of the olives until a couple of years ago, when I discovered the Georgia olive farms,” he said. “That threw gas on the embers” of his earlier interests. As research increased, Barnes grew excited about having a specialty olive oil industry growing in concert with blueberries on the coastal plains of North Carolina. “The blueberry folks already have the equipment and processing facilities,” he said. Olives and blueberries can both require tremendous amounts of investment. Both crops deploy similar sprayers, are planted orchard style, and use the same mechanical harvesters, which cost in excess of $100,000 apiece. Blueberry growers already have sophisticated and expensive packing facilities for processing, with useful items like air cleaners and color sorters. “Why couldn’t these do double-duty?” Barnes wondered. “The olive is somewhat similar size to a blueberry. We know that arbequina has proven itself in south Georgia, a similar climate. We get a few more chill hours on the NC coastal plain, but our temps aren’t that different. It’s very, very mild in most years, similar to that south-central region of Georgia, Lakeland. They don’t get much hotter and they don’t get that less colder than we do.” Barnes has explored his subject thoroughly and with great enthusiasm, spending time picking the brains of growers in Georgia and Texas. He’s sold on new olive culture techniques such as the high-density plantings, where the trees are rooted six feet apart instead of twelve, maximizing harvest per acre and assisting harvest. He sees how $100,000 blueberry-picking equipment, with modifications, can also solve the labor issue of picking olives, further amortizing that very expensive investment in machinery. He sees blueberry farmers, busy in mid-summer but idle in fall, as the perfect stewards for a fall-harvested crop. Olives prefer well-drained land, as do blueberries. But first, “There needs to be those first acres of arbequina put in in the ground,” he said. If cold, humidity and northern location weren’t challenge enough, yet another obstacle has reared its head. Barnes planted several test subjects earlier, but deer destroyed them. “They were gorgeous trees too, with those beautiful silver-green leaves. I was thinking, ‘In two or three years, we’ll pick twenty pounds off each tree in the fall, and we’ll cold-press it to prove the concept. But last January, when everything lost its leaves except the olives, a group of deer came out of his woods and defoliated them. That’s such a desperate time of year for those animals that don’t hibernate.”

He plans to erect an outward-slanting deer fence designed by NC State to solve that issue. Current trends focusing on local and quality have encouraged Barnes. “People are demanding local product. About 99 percent of our domestic olive oil is produced in California, and that 99 is only 1 percent of what we consume — the rest we import from Spain, Italy, Greece, South America, Africa. There’s also a growing health movement. We’ve been able to measure phenology and other health benefits these oils provide us. People want locally grown, organic and safe produce. It’s exploded in the last ten to fifteen years. Now there is a market that’s being untapped. It’s exciting.” In about three years, if the deer issue is resolved and the plants thrive in Lumberton, Barnes will pick his olives when about two-thirds of the crop is green and slightly underipe, and one-third of the fruits begins to ripen deep red and black. The green olive has the higher level of antioxidants and peppery aromatics, the grassy notes, the almond flavors and that vibrant green color, he says. Ripeness produces the buttery, smooth notes. I met Lem Barnes while scouting organic growers to meet subscriber demand from the Sandhills Farm to Table Co-op. His olive story captivated. Several local home gardeners, including this one, keep an arbequina olive in pots, removing inside to a sunny window during the the coldest months. Olives take well to pot culture, and are sold by Georgia nurseries for about $10. But perhaps, in the right sheltered spot, the arbequina and mission varieties could perform well directly in the ground here. No one knows for certain. But Barnes encourages a rash of experimentation among interested gardeners. “Home gardeners could probably make some of the finest, fresh-squeezed cold-pressed, rustic olive oil,” he says. “It doesn’t require any fancy pasteurization. Just pick, grind a paste in a food processor, then press to get all those essential oils from skin, flesh and pits that give the nutty tones and peppery bite.” So, if Barnes has his way, the man who once thought he’d be chef-ing in a Michelin restaurant will kickstart a new artisanal industry in North Carolina agriculture. “The whole eastern third of the U.S. is where two-thirds of our population is,” he notes. If the olives thrive here — and that is the question — “here is something that could make a real impact for those consumers concerned about their health and the environment, a local, highquality olive oil.” “I’m crazy about olives now.” PS Jan Leitschuh is a local gardener, avid eater of fresh produce and co-founder of the Sandhills Farm to Table Cooperative.

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January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Ma n O n t h e t o w n

Max Among Many

At Maxie’s Grill & Tap Room, the sports bar comes of age

By Kevin Drum

In January 2009, the chatter at local

Photographs this page by John Gessner

bars was, “Did you hear Maxie is opening a bar?” Even bar patrons that didn’t know him figured they had better pay attention. People were talking about this pub, which wasn’t even open yet, and this “Maxie” like he was one of those one-name celebrities.

Maxie and I go back a few decades. In the late 80s, he was mastering social media long before it existed. Maxie O’Neil Gleaton, as his mom named him, has one of those personalities that draws the party his way and, back then, he was honing his people skills as a golf professional and unofficial head entertainer at the Pinehurst Golf School. He was fresh out of East Carolina with a major in leisure system studies, something anyone who knows him should have figured but his dad was not so sure about. He seemed to enjoy advancing his studies daily at local watering holes. I was there half the time back then, and there was some serious studying going on, if that’s what you call it, and we tirelessly researched all things fun, with Maxie in the lead, sometimes till dawn. To the casual observer, he was a fun-loving golf professional, but in hindsight, he was a graduate student in leisure system studies working on his master’s thesis: Maxie’s Grill & Tap Room. Maxie started to buy into to his true calling in 1993 when he left Pinehurst Resort to manage Brooks in Southern Pines, where the Bell Tree is located today. It already had a good crowd but became a must-attend dive

bar with Maxie working the crowd with comfort and ease. But the rambunctious late night crowd was probably too much. “My dad always said nothing good happens after midnight, and he was right,” says Maxie. It seems this was an important step in the matriculation of Maxie. After much late night study, he heeded his dad’s advice and left Brooks to research daytime pubs, and helped open Dugan’s in Pinehurst with his friend Warren Long. But before it opened in 1999, Maxie left to manage and open The Sports Page. It instantly became the spot for sports and bar food, with Maxie holding court behind the bar. But after ten years of working for someone else, Maxie left The Sports Page in 2008 and, fair or not, so did most customers, who for the first time in more than twenty years had no Maxie working at any bar to hear their story or to tell one. This was a time for a gut check since Maxie had a broken ankle and no job, just a lifetime of hours in food and beverage. These times of doubt are exactly the times when opportunity knocks, and it came in the form of a little help from his friends. Hunter Hess, who had opened eight restaurants in the Sandhills by that time, told Maxie about the virtues of a dilapidated building in Pinehurst. It was the old Matthews Market Building, and the two of them began imagining it and created a menu in their heads. The idea was a new concept: a women-friendly burger grill and sports bar, since that was all they thought they could fit in this tight venue. “While it sounds crazy, I woke up from a dream one night realizing we could do a lot more in that kitchen with our menu than burgers,” says Maxie. So Hunter and Maxie shifted gears from burger joint and turned that dream into, some say, one of the best sports bar menus in the county. Maxie put the best of what he had consumed in the past thirty years into that menu with one rule: all fresh ingredients — nothing frozen. But they still needed

January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Ma n O n t h e t o w n

someone who shared their passion and wanted to financially support this vision. As if on cue, in came Steve and Candice Dimaggio, who had opened bars in the Caribbean. They lived in Pinehurst part time and knew Maxie and stepped up to back his dream. Maxie brought in Warren Long from his time at Dugan’s as chef and Dale from the Sports Page (Dale’s fried chicken is legendary on Tuesdays). They all had different expertise and knowledge and all worked to refine the diverse menu. I remember attending a menu dress rehearsal hosted at Steve and Candice’s house to fine tune the food even before opening. All partners contributed but, when it was time to name it, there was no doubt whose bar it was and what to name it; Maxie’s Grill & Tap Room. Opening day came in February 2010 with no advertising to a packed house, and the bar landscape was forever changed in the Sandhills. With its long bar, the patrons see everyone upon entry. The bar spills out onto the streetscape with a patio, in a quiet, unassuming block in the village of Pinehurst, a welcome burst of life, with the caddies adding color sitting out in the sun recounting their tips or lack of them after looping that day on Pinehurst No. 2, or sports junkies on stools watching the game at the bar, invariably a doctor or health care worker or two. There are ladies lunching and husbands hiding all in the same building and sometimes at the same time. And it’s not just great beer, relaxing cheer and the games — the menu is one of the most comprehensive in town, featuring anything from signature onion rings to meatloaf with fried asparagus spears. Maxie’s salads set the place apart from other sports bars and make the grill more women friendly, even more so with the addition of several scratch-made soups and numerous daily specials. One of my menu favorites is Kathy’s Way BLT — a fried egg and avocado slices make the BLT a whole new experience — named after Maxie’s girlfriend, Kathy King, who contributed in many ways, and coined the popular T-shirt tagline which reads “A Quaint Drinking Village With A Golfing Problem.” It’s nice to go to a pub where the owner is glad you’re there, and will probably give you a hug and tell you a story or listen to yours. Maxie’s has become an important part of the community and may be looked back on as being a major catalyst for growth in a slow area of the village. This February will mark the pub’s fourth anniversary, thirty years in the making. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy. PS Kevin Drum, our man on the town, grew up in the Sandhills, though it’s not true he had his first beer before he could walk.

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January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Out of the Blue

Happy Cat

The hiss-tory of a clever girl from the streets

By Deborah Salomon

In the New Year I hereby resolve not

to read or write or watch any sad animal stories. No eulogy for the valiant golden retriever, no lament for abandoned kittens. Seems like something tragic happens to every animal that appears in a movie or on TV — even Isis on Downton Abbey experienced a brief emergency. This upset me for days. Now, only heartwarming stories with happy endings. Meet Hissy. I noticed a chunky, splotched gray-and-white cat sunning on various porches when I moved to this apartment development five years ago. Her girth suggested a home. But when she passed my way, I offered a dish. Kitty rewarded me with growls and hisses — a most unpleasant animal. Up close I noticed her notched ear (sign of a spayed feral) and crossed eyes. Is there anything uglier than a mean cross-eyed cat? Two years passed. Then, one winter morning I spotted a sweet, shy, all-black kitty eating from Hissy’s porch bowl. He ran when I approached but kept showing up at mealtime. Six months later a dog chased him to my door. I opened it. Lucky has been my darling ever since — the calmest, most affectionate animal I have ever known. Black cats are special. Lucky had been neutered and declawed. Somebody moved away and left him, I learned. We bonded instantly. He is smart, intuitive, amusing, the perfect feline companion. Well, Hissy was not pleased. She growled and hissed even more when she saw him through the window. Please, find another porch, I begged. Instead, last spring she showed up limping. When I saw blood on her foot I opened the door. Never would I turn away an injured animal. She limped in and didn’t leave for a month. By then the cut had healed. While it was healing, Hissy located satisfactory nesting places and made her culinary preferences known, but wouldn’t let me near her. Hisssssss.

Lucky sat silent, stoic, even when she ate from his bowl. All the while Hissy’s getting the lay of the land. She glared at me from the corner when Lucky curled up on my lap. She charted the course to the windowsill shelf and observed me closing the bedroom door, so Lucky and I could sleep undisturbed. Then one bedtime I couldn’t locate the interloper. I gave up and shut the door. Smart cookie had hidden under the bed. During the night, she jumped up, nestled in the quilt. From then on, as bedtime approached, Hissy knew to establish her position and stand her ground to avoid ejection. Inch by inch, night after night, she crept from the foot of the bed toward my other shoulder. Lucky sighed, gave her a resigned stare, and went back to sleep. By then, Hissy had stopped hissing. On the contrary, she practically rubbed the skin off my legs when I was in the kitchen. On chilly days, while Lucky napped on the warm cable box, Hissy curled up on the printer. Formerly untouchable, now she demands scratching. With me under control, Hissy-the-hussy fell in love with Lucky. What a pest. She grooms him, lies beside him on the porch, practically crowds him off his favorite chair, and trails him outside like an annoying little sister. Lucky doesn’t return the affection, but he doesn’t complain, either — a prince among felines. I feel so guilty. After a lifetime of rescuing animals I was done. Lucky proved an irresistible exception. We were fine, just the two of us. We didn’t need this wide-body nuisance. Trouble is, she needed us. Hissy has started creeping toward my lap, the last frontier. I hardly notice her crossed eyes anymore. The way she dashes through the house and cavorts around a toy are quite amusing as we watch from the couch. Because, you see, Lucky and I have a new pet — a conniving girl who made a plan, then carried it out, step by step, from the bleeding paw to Fancy Feast Beef with Gravy, catnip-flavored treats and a warm bed. Perhaps for the first time Hissy has a forever home, a caregiver (albeit reluctant) and a fella. Occasionally, she purrs. Often, she kitty-kisses. I’m just curious about one thing: real blood — or ketchup? PS Deborah Salomon is a staff writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She may be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.

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January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

A N ENG L I S H W OM A N IN T HE S A NDHI L L S

Carpe Haggis

Otherwise, make mine something warm and chocolaty by the fire

By Serena Brown

It is the season

of the haggis. I can think of few things more delicious than a dish of spiced offal and oatmeal, and I did once attend a Burns Night supper, but our hostess had forgotten to retrieve the haggis she had acquired during her lunch break from the office fridge, and I don’t feel it would be right to describe the rather inauthentic celebration that followed. The menu metamorphosed from Caledonian to Calabrian.

If I hadn’t written about Christmas puddings last month I would have regaled you with an exacting description of the sport of haggis hunting, but two puddings in a row may be somewhat indigestible, so we’ll leave that for another year too. January, the gateway month with its eponymous god looking forward and back. The icy doldrums of the calendar, in which people receive their post-Christmas credit card bill and promise themselves they’ll behave better in the year to come. It’s a quiet month, a time for firesides and hot chocolate, binge reading long novels and watching too much television. Some people make New Year’s resolutions, others try to remember what they resolved to do the year before. On the counter at Swank there’s a bowl full of badges with positive mottoes on them. “Carpe diem,” the buttons proclaim as they wait to be transferred to a lapel or purse or pencil case. That’s the New Year spirit. That’s where I shall find inspiration for this year’s resolutions. I shall also invest in a handful of these badges for my friends in England; they tend to be somewhat world-weary at this time of year, the friends that is, not the

badges, most likely because they haven’t seen daylight since late September. In the Sandhills we have invigorating winter days, bright sunlight and crisp Carolina blue skies. People look at me in disbelief when I tell them it’s colder here than in England. It is, and it’s a different kind of cold, a clean dry cold that calls for sunblock and dark glasses, not the damp maritime chill of Blighty that edges into your very being and stays there until midsummer. This is the month that I choose to visit England. I admit it’s not quite the same as being there in June, but if you’re a native and you own the requisite layers of woolen clothing necessary for survival in the British Isles during the winter months, January is a very good time to be in London. I don’t really recommend it for holidaymakers — at this point in the year the city huddles under a gloomy fog and you’ll be lucky if it gets light at all — but for those of us for whom the Tube is an extension of our circulatory system, it’s perfect. The museums are quiet, there are seats on the Underground, one can move around swiftly under cover of darkness from the British Museum to the bookshops of Cecil Court, pause for refreshment, mosey through the National Gallery, emerge into Trafalgar Square, stargaze at Nelson, admire St. Martin-In-The-Fields and then carry on over Waterloo Bridge to the National Theatre or the British Film Institute. Edifying though that all sounds, I won’t stay in London for the whole visit. I’ll be off to Cheshire, home of the Cat and my family. There I’ll take up residence by the fireside I mentioned earlier. I don’t intend to move too far from there, but should I receive a sporting invitation that takes me north of the border it will be a delight to join the enthusiastic packs of hunters dashing through the Highlands. I’ll be the one hollooing “Carpe haggis!” PS Serena Brown once worked for the BBC’s prestigious art program Arena. Originally from Cheshire, she now lives in Southern Pines with her husband, Paul Brown, and is PineStraw’s associate editor.

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January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

B I R D WA T C H

Winter Hummingbirds

By Susan Campbell

For birders, this

Photograph by Henry Link

is the most exciting time of the year.

Yes, familiar visitors from the far north are showing up in flocks: white-throated sparrows, dark-eyed juncos and yellow- rumped warblers. Even bufflehead and ring-necked ducks are not hard to find. But, for me, it is the wintering hummingbirds that make the next few months so special. Believe it or not, although they’re not common, these tiny visitors settle in at sugar-water feeders left up by the hopeful all over North Carolina, even in the Sandhills. Some are ruby-throateds, but the hummingbirds that visit in winter are far more likely to be Western species such as rufous, blackchinned or calliope. Additionally, Anna’s, broad-billed, broad-tailed, buff-bellied and Allen’s hummingbirds have spent all or part of the winter here. In the past a few lucky birders even recorded a couple green violetear hummers and one green breasted mango as well. This long list of species has made our state the highest in hummingbird diversity in the Eastern United States. Along our coast, where the weather is moderated by the warm waters of the Gulf Stream, daytime temperatures seldom dip below freezing and ice and snow are rare. Insectivorous birds, including hummingbirds, find plentiful prey in the abundance of thick, evergreen foliage. In fact, ruby-throated hummingbirds can be more numerous in some locations on the Outer Banks during the cooler months than during summer, since tall trees for nesting are scarce along the state’s barrier islands and beaches. But the Bank’s scrubby beach habitat is a great place for small birds that eat tiny insects like spiders, mites, midges, flies and aphids to spend the winter. In the interior of the state, rufous hummingbirds are more likely visitors at this time of year — as far west as our southern mountains. Western hummers that frequent more northern latitudes or higher elevations are actually very cold tolerant; after all, summers there may not be much more hospitable than our winters are here! Calls and emails from excited (and sometimes confused) hummingbird hosts start coming in after the first hard freeze, usually in late November. But many wintering hummers are not reported until winter weather settles in, which tends to be about now. Adult males are easy to identify by their stunning gorget colors and pat-

terns. However, you’re actually more likely to see females and immature individuals, which have rather subtle differences in plumage and can be difficult to identify. If you’re lucky enough to get a photograph, that may be sufficient for identification purposes. More often than not, however, in-hand scrutiny is necessary. That means calling in an expert to trap and band your tiny guest. Here in the Sandhills, we have had one ruby-throated, a number of rufous hummingbirds and also a calliope, plus the state’s firstever broad-tailed hummingbird. The diversity of large, mature evergreens in the area, combined with scattered wet areas makes for excellent year-round hummingbird habitat. It’s likely that many winter hummers have gone undetected and/or unreported in past decades, perhaps because people just give up hope and take their feeders down. Maybe most don’t see hummingbirds because they don’t look for hummingbirds. You, however, can take steps to encourage overwintering hummingbirds even if you don’t choose to provide feeders year-round. Colorful perennials are always attractive to hummers, and the absolute best plant for this purpose is pineapple sage. This member of the Salvia family, with its fruity-scented foliage and bright red, long spikes of late-season, nectar-rich tubular blooms is a beacon for hummingbirds as well as for fall butterflies. Grow it in pots that can be sheltered on cold nights so the blooms will persist into the winter months. Japanese mahonia, winter honeysuckle and camellias too can be cold weather hummingbird magnets. And consider putting out a feeder; feeder maintenance is easier than you may think during cold weather. In our area, a feeder hung close to the house will be protected most cold days and many nights. The regular (4 parts water/1 part sugar) solution will not freeze unless the air temperature drops below 27 degrees. And in winter the liquid is much less likely to ferment; simply rinse it out and refill every two weeks or so. I can’t promise that you’ll see hummers, but, if you’ll try a few flowers or maybe a feeder, there is a chance you, too, may attract your very own tiny but hardy and hungry winter visitor. And please let me hear about it if you get lucky! PS For more about wintering hummingbirds in North Carolina, go to: naturalsciences.org/research-collections/research-specialties/birds/nc-hummingbirds Susan would love to hear from you. Send wildlife sightings and photos to susan@ncaves.com or call (910)949-3207.

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January 2014 P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

T h e sp o rt i n g l i f e

The Planter’s Gun A good tale for a winter’s night

By Tom Bryant

“Let’s build

a fire when we get home. This cold weather has seeped into my bones.” Tom, our son, and I were on the way back from a late January afternoon dove hunt on the farm I lease for bird hunting. The original plan was to duck hunt a beaver pond, but it was frozen; so we dove hunted a cut over Milo field instead. A cold front had roared in from Canada the evening before, and the sunny South was frosted over. Kicking back in front of a blazing fire would feel good.

“That’s a great idea, Dad. I’ll get the fire started while you clean the birds.” In short order, after unloading the Bronco and taking care of our chores, we were warming before the fireplace. Linda, my bride, was visiting her sister, so Tom and I were on our own for dinner. “What are we going to eat for supper? Mom’s not here,” Tom said as he put another log in the fireplace. “I just cleaned those birds. I’ll marinate them a little, wrap them in bacon and grill them on the little charcoal grill. Voila, instant supper. Those birds, along with baked potatoes and a tossed salad, will be perfect. Food harvested from the field just like your forebears. I’m gonna pour myself a scotch. You want a beer?” “No I’m still cold. I think I’ll make some hot chocolate. Speaking of forebear’s, Grandma was telling me a little history about some great, great, great uncle of ours who fought in the War Between the States. Remember when we were down there at Christmas and she showed me that history book produced by the Daughters of the Confederacy? She said that our

long-ago uncle was one of the best duck hunters of his time.” “Yep. All the old folks say it’s true. Our relative did fight in the war and that much I know because it’s documented. The part about the ducks? There’s some question about that. Get your chocolate. I’ll pour some scotch and I’ll tell you how it was in the winter of 1865 when the South, as our folks knew it then, was about to disappear forever.” Tom lay back on the den couch with his steaming mug of hot chocolate and I pulled the hassock nearer to the old leather chair, took off my boots and put my feet toward the fire. “Now picture this, buddy roe. It’s January, 1865. Sherman’s Army is moving north through South Carolina burning everything in his path, killing all the livestock he can’t use and, in general, making war on old men, women and children. Wade Hampton’s second South Carolina Cavalry is harassing him with attacks on his flanks, but it’s like trying to stop a runaway bull with a slingshot. This is where your distant relative found himself, riding with Hampton. He was in charge of a small Cavalry unit assigned with keeping up with the Yankees and their location. It was a winless task. One good thing came out of it, though. Your long-ago uncle was able to warn the family, then living in Marion County, to cross the river with what livestock was left and everything they could carry. He advised burying what valuables they couldn’t tote because the plantation was right in Sherman’s path. Remember last summer when we went to the old family graveyard? That’s all Sherman’s army left. Family history says he burned everything to the ground. Even dug up part of the graveyard looking for the silver. They were a mean bunch.” “I’ve heard Grandma talk about that a lot, how the family crossed the Pee Dee River to escape the Yankees and were able to move into a small cottage with a cousin. But what has that got to do with duck hunting?” “That’s the cool part,” I replied. “Your uncle and his boys ran up on a squad of Yankee soldiers as they were making camp one night. Caught completely by

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January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

T h e sp o rt i n g l i f e

surprise, the Yankees were captured without a shot being fired. They had two wagons loaded with the plunder they had stolen from Southern homes before they burned them. Your uncle and his boys stripped the Yankees down to their skivvies and turned them loose, telling them if they were seen in the next ten minutes they would be shot as the common thieves they were. They skedaddled over the nearest hill and were gone. They didn’t come back.” Tom got up from the couch, stretched and put another log on the fire. “Yeah, but where does the duck hunting story come from?” “In one of those wagons, loaded with loot, was a shotgun fowling piece supposedly made by an English manufacturer. It could have been a Holland & Holland and probably was a planter’s prized possession. Along with it, they found black powder and lead shot, ready to hunt. The Confederates drove the two wagons to the nearest farm and turned them, with all the contraband, over to the inhabitants, advising them to hide everything. They gave them all the stuff except the shotgun. Your uncle requisitioned it as a meat provider. Food had been scarce for the Southern boys, so the next morning early, before dawn, he took the gun along with powder and shot to a nearby beaver pond and killed enough mallard ducks to feed all the troops in his unit. The rumor had it he didn’t miss, often bringing down two ducks at a time. Sounds like he could shoot sort of like your old dad.” Tommy laughed. “Don’t tell me about the time you brought down those wood ducks with one shot. I’ve heard that one too much. What happened to the Confederate Cavalry after the duck hunt?” “Well, they joined up with Hampton’s main group and went north to help Joe Johnston’s army. The big battle took place at Bentonville, North Carolina, Johnston’s 16,000 Confederates against Sherman’s 60,000 Yankees. The Confederates whipped them for a couple of days but, outnumbered and out of ammunition, retired to Greensboro, where they surrendered. That was the last battle of the war.” “That’s quite a story. You reckon it’s true?” “We’ve got some of it documented about serving in the Southern army and the burning of the home place. We like to think the duck-hunting story is true. How else can we explain our natural talent at duck shooting?” “We’d better not rely on that,” Tom said, laughing. “What say we get those doves marinating? I’m getting hungry.” PS Tom Bryant, a Southern Pines resident, is a lifelong outdoorsman and PineStraw’s Sporting Life columnist.

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G o lft o w n J o u r n al

You’ve Come a Long Way, Babe As the finest women golfers in the world take aim at Pinehurst No. 2, the devil is in the details

By Lee Pace

Herbert Warren

Photograph courtesy of the tufts archives

Wind, the noted golf writer and historian, once penned an article for Sports Illustrated on the early days of women’s golf by referencing Lucy Barnes’ scores of 69 and 63 in winning the inaugural U.S. Women’s Amateur.

“These happened to be her scores on the front and back nines, of course . . . ” Wind wrote. Peggy Kirk Bell laughs thinking about Wind’s caustic little reference to the high scores ruling the distaff game more than Babe Zaharias a century ago. “Herb was a good friend and we joked about that over the years,” says Peggy, whose family has owned and operated Pine Needles Lodge & Golf Club since 1953. “I think we’ve come a long way from there.” A long way indeed, and now that 2014 has dawned, the Sandhills is on the cusp of conducting its fourth U.S. Women’s Open Golf Championship. Mrs. Bell and her venerable Pine Needles course were the hosts in 1996, 2001 and 2007, and now four miles to the west, Pinehurst No. 2 lies in wait for the second half of a unique men’s-women’s national championship in June. “I think the 2014 championships will be wonderful,” says Raleigh’s Jim Hyler, a key USGA official when the double-header deal was consummated in 2009. “The second week, the crowds won’t be as big, the bleachers won’t be as full, but I still think having the women at Pinehurst right behind the men will mean a great deal for women’s golf.” Women have been a part of the Sandhills golf landscape for well more than a century, with the Women’s North and South Amateur commencing in 1901 and the ladies in 1909 forming The Silver Foils Club, a group of avid golfers who conducted weekly handicap competitions within the larger structure of Pinehurst Country Club. Donald Ross designed the No. 3 course in 1911 partially with ladies in mind as it was shorter and easier than what was seen as the stiffer and brutish challenge of No. 2.

“I loved to play Pinehurst No. 2,” said Maureen Orcutt, who won the N&S from 1931-33. “I could hit the ball. I used to be a hitter, they’d say, and I loved to let it out, and you could let it out on No. 2. We didn’t get to play No. 2 in the North and South. It was always played on No. 3, which was tighter and shorter.” Glenna Collett became familiar with the Sandhills area in the 1920s and ’30s as she won six Women’s North and South Amateur titles; she lived here during the winters as well, playing and practicing golf and helping sell home sites in the new development surrounding the Pine Needles Golf Club, which opened in 1928. “Girls lucky enough to have the time and opportunity to play golf do not, under ordinary circumstances, need to pass monotonous hours in beauty parlors,” she said. “They put their time to better advantage by swinging a golf club and tramping for several miles over green fairways out in the sun and fresh air. The money allotted to rouge, lipstick and massages can be given over for balls, fees and caddie service in this new and natural beauty parlor.” Peggy Kirk grew up in Ohio, played on the golf team at Rollins College in Florida, and first visited Pinehurst when she naïvely showed up for the Women’s North and South Amateur — an invitational for which she’d not been extended said invitation. Richard Tufts of the Pinehurst founding family took pity on the poor girl’s embarrassment at the registration table and promptly invited her to play, a fortuitous gesture as young Peggy would prove to have innate instincts to be where the action was in ladies’ golf. Peggy first met Babe Didrickson Zaharias on the amateur circuit in 1945, and they enjoyed some fun times in Pinehurst in the post-World War II days, Babe winning the North and South in 1947 and Peggy in 1949. Babe was the biggest draw among lady golfers at the time, and her bold, brash and daring play won her the three major championships of the day in 1950. Peggy remembers sitting in hotel rooms with Babe as she negotiated deals for tournaments on the fledgling LPGA Tour, which was launched in 1950. They drove from one end of the country to the other, and eventually Peggy learned to fly her own airplane to make travel easier. Babe was a showgirl, a talented athlete, an excellent musician and was ultra competitive.

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“Babe was the beginning of ladies pro golf,” Peggy says. “She was an entertainer and she could hit the ball a mile. Men would ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at one of her tee shots, and she’d turn to them and say, ‘Don’t you wish you could hit it like that?’ They loved it.” It was difficult going in the early days. Peggy remembers the pros hitting off rubber mats on tee boxes. Since there were no funds for tournament officials or administrators, one golfer each day was designated to post the scores by hand on the scoreboard at the clubhouse. Purses ranged from $3,000 to $4,000 for each of fourteen inaugural tournaments in 1950. “Babe wouldn’t believe what the game’s become today,” Peggy said in 2007 on the eve of that year’s Women’s Open. “I’d love for her to see Annika Sorenstam and Michelle Wie hit the ball. She’d sniff and say, ‘I wish those girls would play better. Then I’d have to practice!’” USGA Executive Director Mike Davis is sensitive to the idea that the Women’s Open could get lost in the hubbub surrounding the men’s event. But overriding that worry is the idea that the double-header will draw so much attention — it will be like a two-week “Olympics of golf” — and the venue of No. 2 is so strong that the stature of the women’s championship will rise with the impending tide. “One of the things we ultimately will do is show the world, really for the first time as we are testing the best men and best women, just how good these women are,” Davis says. “That’s one of the neat things to me. The women don’t get enough credit for how good they really are. They don’t hit the ball as far, not as high, don’t spin the ball as much — but they really are quite good in every other respect.” Davis points to 2010, when the Women’s Open was held at Oakmont Country Club in Pittsburgh, the formidable venue that has hosted eight U.S. Opens. “People said, ‘There’s no way the women can handle this golf course,’” Davis says. “We did genuinely try to set it up just like the men. They can handle the green speeds if you get the firmness relatively the same, and they’re hitting the same clubs into the greens.” The hope among those running the show both inside and outside the ropes is that Pinehurst can get by with little or no weather disruptions. Not one stroke during the 1999 and 2005 Opens was delayed by weather; contrast that to the 1994 U.S. Senior Open, which was held in July and was pummeled by torrential thunderstorms. “If we get Mother Nature to treat us the same, the only thing different from the first week to the second is what teeing grounds we use and the firmness of the greens,” Davis says. “The

January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

G o lft o w n J o u r n al

speeds will be the same. Women can handle the speeds, but they can’t stop the ball as quickly. So the greens need to be a bit softer. If a man hits a 6-iron, we want it to bounce, bounce, stop. A woman won’t hit it with as much spin, so the greens can’t be quite as firm.” There is also the question of landing areas in the fairways and whether the women might find an inordinate number of divots under repair from the previous week. Davis says that the landing areas on most holes will differ from the men to the women, the idea being that to have both sexes hitting 7 or 8-irons into a green, for example, the women’s landing area will be closer to the putting surface. “It’s just not that big an issue,” Davis says. “The reality is that playing out of divots is just part of the game. You play the ball as it lies. Sometimes you get a bad break. That’s golf. Dealing with those breaks is part of the examination.” The only bad-dream scenario in Davis’s mind surrounds the weather and the possibility that storm delays and/or a Monday playoff could infringe on practice rounds for the Women’s Open. “Let’s face it, we’ve been lucky both times at Pinehurst,” Davis says. “I say this every year, no matter where we’re playing. I just don’t want to get a bunch of rain. It takes so much away strategically from the championship when they can just throw darts and not worry about what happens when the ball lands.” Annika Sorenstam was a collegiate golfer at the University of Arizona in the early 1990s when a mutual friend called Peggy Kirk Bell and asked if she would give Annika a place to stay during the Women’s North and South. “I gave her a car, a room and told her to come and go as she pleased,” says Peggy. “She was quiet as a mouse.” Thus one of the founding members of the LPGA Tour struck up a friendship with one of the game’s brightest newcomers, and it was appropriate that Sorenstam won her second Open at Pine Needles in 1996. Retired today from active competition, Annika is interested to see how her former colleagues fare on No. 2. “My spontaneous reaction was, ‘Wow, that’s fantastic,’” she says of the 2009 news of the back-to-back Opens on No. 2. “The women enjoy playing traditional and historical places just as the men, and we know that Pinehurst is a mecca of golf. I love the concept. It’s a clever idea.” In six months we add to the rich history of women’s golf in the Sandhills. Now, as they say, the devil’s in the details. PS Lee Pace’s book The Golden Age of Pinehurst — The Story of the Rebirth of No. 2 is available onsite and online at Pinehurst Resort & Country Club. PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014

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January 2014 Time The clock is a-ticking, a-ticking, a-ticking The day is a-wasting groans old Father Tyme If you can, put a coin in the hand of the beggar The clock is relentless, tomorrow is now. The beggar is cold and ragged and hungry Your chance, a-fleeting, a-fleeting, then gone. Tomorrow won’t wait for a second, a minute Time is a-wasting — he needs your help now. Tell me you love me, my lover, my sweet one Tell me you care for me, hold me so tight The sun is a-setting, a-setting, a-fading I must leave at sunrise, tomorrow’s tonight. Bring home the soldiers, the broken, the wounded Thousands have died and we cannot lose more Comfort them, heal them — time is the essence Give them tomorrow, tomorrow is now. Embrace the children, the sick and abused ones The lonely, bewildered, who don’t understand Cherish them, nourish them, make them feel wanted Tomorrow’s uncertain, today is at hand. The New Year bears down, upon us, upon us The moon and the sun and the stars will endure, They do their part — forever, forever But our time is short, today is an instant, Then hurry, move quickly, do something right now.

— Deborah Salomon

T h e S e c r e t L i f e o f O v e r h i lls

Pa r t O n e

The Huntsman and the Billionaire By Gayvin Powers

he baying of a Walker foxhound echoed in the wooded distance. “Is it Stinger or Satin?” the whipper-in asked Rudolph Singleton Sr., the master huntsman, riding alongside him. “No, it’s Model Rudy Jr.,” Singleton Sr. said, recognizing his favorite hound. “He’s found the fox.” The huntsman enjoyed a unique connection with the animals in his care. He had the remarkable ability to identify each one of the sixty-four Maryland and Walker foxhounds by bark alone. This, of course, was at Overhills, an exclusive hunt club in Harnett County founded in 1913 for industrialists and millionaires that later evolved into a private family retreat for the Rockefellers. Guests were bound by a love of horses, hounds, the hunt, and freedom from the psychological burdens of the Great Depression — the very economic holocaust that inspired Singleton Sr. to move his family to Overhills. Rudolph Singleton Jr. lived at Overhills between the ages of 3 and 5, and remembers his father during those bleak

years. “Daddy was a happy, cheerful man.” Prior to working for Percy Rockefeller, the elder Singleton was an awardwinning huntsman at Iroquois Hunt Club in Lexington, Kentucky, until he lost his job. The Depression’s toll on foxhunting members of the club cast a powerful shadow over the nation’s prosperity and leisure classes, affecting hunt clubs across the county and leaving Singleton Sr. grateful for the opportunity to work at Overhills — a darn sight better than standing in the bread line. Furthermore, the job was effectively a promotion. At Iroquois Hunt Club, he merely assisted on the hunts; at Overhills he would be in charge of all the details associated with foxhunting, including carrying the golden horn and leading the hunts. With the family’s 1930 Hudson stuffed with their belongings, the Singletons drove from Kentucky to North Carolina, without a clue what the future held at the exclusive Overhills. On the plus side, for Delores Singleton, Rudolph Sr.’s devoted wife, who was raised in Sumter, South Carolina, the move brought her closer to her own family. On the down

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Capitalist and financier Percy Rockefeller was a passionate fox hunter; the Overhills Hunt was his preferred form of recreation. PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014

The Circus at Overhills: An aerial photograph of the custom-designed and architecturally grandiose circular kennel and stables, center left, designed to accommodate the training and boarding of hundreds of dogs and horses, including an oval track outrigged with hedges and jumps. The Circus was the ceremonial starting point of the Overhills Hunt

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

side, the relative isolation of the plantation in a vast longleaf forest meant there was little if any indcation of the luxurious lifestyle that awaited the family in their mysterious new home — not even a sign that announced the entrance to Overhills. There was only a simple dirt path connecting visitors to the elite lifestyle hidden in the pines. From 1933 until 1935, Singleton Sr. spent idyllic days raising his family and serving as the rustic estate’s master huntsman, overseeing the foxhunting organization at Overhills. It was a quiet, isolated life where the workers could enjoy resort amenities when work or play was complete. From the beginning, the elder Singleton was keenly aware of these fortunate circumstances that allowed him to spend his days caring for the animals and riding Hildred Seth, his favorite horse. A sea of pines sprawling almost beyond comprehension, Overhills was ideal for hunting with its fields and pine forests that spanned across old hunt clubs and the remains of farms and plantations, cumulatively making up more than 40,000 total acres. Only birdsong and baying hounds could intrude upon the sweet isolation, allowing visitors to disconnect from a troubled outside world. Splendid isolation in nature was Overhills’ principal attraction; everything that took place (bird hunting, fishing, swimming, foxhunting, shooting, golf, polo, tennis) revolved around the naturalist views of the Rockefeller clan. During Percy Rockefeller’s tenure at Overhills, while Singleton Sr. was master huntsman, the patriarch’s favorite pastime in nature was “the hunt.” Specifically, foxhunting. Known as a “King’s Sport,” owing historically to the royal purse required to run and maintain a foxhunting organization, the sport gained popularity throughout the early 1900s in America, supported mainly by successful bankers and stockbrokers who traveled south to get away from urban cold and play among other wealthy types. North Carolina’s largely uninhabited Sandhills region was a perfect warm retreat for them, and much more appealing than the tediously long journey to Florida. By the time Singleton Sr. worked at Overhills, many of the wealthy investors who supported Overhills during the early 1900s through the Roaring Twenties, had taken their money elsewhere, increasing Percy Rockefeller’s shares, thus maintaining his position as the estate’s primary investor. “People couldn’t afford to foxhunt anymore,” recalls Singleton Jr. “Only the very wealthy could.” The result of this financial shift meant that Overhills soon became a secluded family retreat. The younger Singleton recalls the time he spent living at Overhills as a magical time. “Most of the time, it felt like our own place,” he says. “They [the Rockefellers] were there 10-percent of the time.” During the other 90-percent of the time, the employees had a Donald Ross-designed golf course, tennis courts and surrounding pristine pine wilderness to themselves. PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014

ot surprisingly, a lot of folks in neighboring towns didn’t even know that Overhills existed. The staff and their children kept quiet about it, too. At a time when newspapers were full of stories about desperate kidnappings that recalled the Lindberg tragedy of a decade before, Overhills’ employees used extreme discretion to ensure that their employers and their guests were kept safe. On a regular workday — when their employers were gone — Singleton Sr. and the other staff kept time by the sun, rising early to start work. His days largely consisted of training the horses and dogs, as well as overseeing their care and diet, ensuring they were strong and fit for when the Rockefellers and their friends visited. “A person doesn’t pay top dollar for the best dogs only to feed them scraps,” Singleton Jr. notes. The dogs’ diet was strictly managed, and, depending on the day, meals, which were made in large copper kettles, consisted of oatmeal, grain, vitamins and meat. “They ate better than a lot of people,” he says. The Singleton family lived in a house connected to the horse stables in front of the home on either end.

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

The original Craftsman-style Clubhouse for Overhills, above left, center of the winter colony’s busy social swirl, opened in 1913 to accommodate horse lovers and golfers alike. Members and their guests stayed here, the gathering place for weddings, Christmas parties and events of all occasions. Note the same structure in the 1930s, painted white and showing its age at the depth of the Great Depression.

Boasting five bedrooms and five sleeping porches, spacious Croatan Lodge, was built as a family retreat and included dormitory style accommodations for traveling nannies.

High times among the aristos of a dying Jazz Age affluence: All friends and family members of the Rockefellers pose during a party on the golf course.

Alabaster House was the Craftsman-style bungalow of Percy Rockefeller’s personal valet, complete with a well-stocked wine cellar. By the 1950s the house sat abandoned and was believed to be haunted.

Future New York governor Averell Harriman, a longtime member of Overhills, and his two daughters, Kathleen and Mary, seen on the front porch of the family’s cottage, Covert Cottage, in 1920.

Frequent visitors to Overhills, Almira Geraldine Rockefeller (Percy’s niece) and Faith Rockefeller (his fourth child) pose by the Clubhouse during a visit in 1920. Horses were transported south each winter, and at any given time, there were eight to twelve Thoroughbreds in the estate’s stables. Next to the home was “The Circus,” a circular training field; and directly across from that were the dog kennels. “Mr. Rockefeller had The Circus located away from the main homes and clubhouse. That way, people wouldn’t hear the animals. But it was still close enough to walk to,” says Singleton Jr. When the family planned a visit, Mrs. Isabelle Rockefeller typically sent a telegram from up north a week in advance to notify the staff, ensuring preparations were made and everything was ready for their arrival. Cooks guaranteed there was a stockpile of food, specifically homemade chocolate chip cookies, and Singleton Sr. was equally meticulous, ensuring details of the upcoming hunts were planned out thoroughly. Upon the family’s arrival, Singleton Sr. traded his aged work clothes for an English pink (red) coat and light riding breeches from Brooks Brothers — supplied to him by Percy Rockefeller. The jacket not only served as proper attire, it was essential during a hunt when barbed wire was encountered. “Daddy would take off his coat, lay it over the wire so the horses could jump over it safely,” says Singleton Jr. Nipped fingers were the result a couple times when Singleton Sr. tried pulling a fox from its covert. “He learned real quick to stop doing that,” says Singleton Jr., chuckling at the memories. Foxes come by their keen reputation honestly. They are known for doubling back, crossing water and finding shelter in obscure areas, including the swamp. This explains why a lot of hunts ended with the fox outsmarting the hunters.

During the loyal Huntsman’s final year of service at Overhills, however, as his son proudly recounts, “Twenty-three out of the 25 hunts ended with a fox being caught.” A banner hunt, a banner year. The younger Singleton grew up hearing remarkable stories of Percy Rockefeller’s hunting achievements, which left a powerful impression. According to Overhills Oral History, a book by Jeffrey D. Irwin and Kaitlin O’Shea, Singleton Jr. recalled seeing “Mr. Rockefeller on his horse on one occasion. And, of course, [me] being a little chap, he looked as big as life itself.” Overhills saw many influential and famous visitors in the early 1900s. One of the many notable and regular visitors to the site was Percival Rosseau, a nationally recognized artist known for his dog and nature oil paintings, who was also artist-in-residence at Overhills, living and working in a small cottage during the winter months. The huntsman himself became an inevitable subject for Rosseau, corraling horses and managing the hounds, evidenced by the painting Hunter and Hounds Pause for a Refreshing Drink. Another one of Rosseau’s paintings, One of the Many Bold Streams on the Overhills Estate, features a majestic huntsman atop a Thoroughbred surrounded by hounds. The huntsman is Rudolph Singleton astride Hildred Seth. When the Rockefellers departed, life at Overhills became quiet again . . . unless a child was around. Singleton Jr.’s favorite story about Overhills could have come from the pages of a Mark Twain novel. With no one around for miles, bored

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

A frosty morn on the Overhills Hunt: Master Huntsman, front left, had the responsibility of keeping the hounds and leading the action, planning and executing the hunt. In the early 1930s, Rudolph Singleton was brought to Overhills and served as the Huntsman until the Depression took its toll even on splendidly isolated Overhills, presaging its decline and sale to Fort Bragg. and in need of entertainment, Singleton minor — then a precocious age 3 — released twenty-four rabbits from their cages. There was no grandiose hunt, the sound of his father’s horn or men chasing down escaped rabbits atop their mounts — only the sight of his mother trying to retrieve the rabbits from a nearby swamp before they scampered to freedom in a Southern eden. If the Singletons had stayed at Overhills, their son would have continued to enjoy a Huck Finn-idyll childhood. Outside of Overhills and its pampered sporting environment, people struggled for food, shelter and life’s other basic necessities; schoolchildren without lunches or proper clothing were a reminder of the harsh reality lurking on the other side of the pines. The sanctuary Overhills provided ended for the Singletons with the sudden death of Percy Rockefeller in 1934. Foxhunting, the patriarch’s greatest passion, abruptly came to an end at Overhills. Singleton Sr. faced the decision to uproot his family and move to a Rockefeller estate in Chatham, New York, or stay put in nearby Fayetteville and sell cars. Mrs. Singleton enjoyed being close to her family. Family won out. The younger Singleton sometimes wondered what his life would have

been like being raised in the cold New York winters, learning about horses firsthand from his father instead of living in a Fayetteville apartment where they couldn’t keep a horse. In the end, he made his peace with his father’s fateful decision. “I have a lot of respect for my father. He loved riding horses, but he gave it up. He raised his family here instead.” The huntsman’s life at Overhills represented the final days of a lavish era. Overhills would eventually fall into ruin, remembered by few, lost in another time. Rudolph Singleton Sr. walked away from an elite lifestyle insulated from a struggling America, opting to raise his family in Fayetteville. After selling cars, he eventually became a successful insurance agent. His son, who also raised his family in Fayetteville, is now a retired attorney. Over time, Rosseau’s painting of the huntsman was changed, the elder Singleton’s face was painted over in favor of the visage of a Rockefeller. Despite the alteration, Singleton Jr. looks back on his father the way that Rosseau captured him proudly that day by the water, astride Hildred Seth. For a time, he lived in a place that existed as if in another world, doing what he loved. PS

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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Best Reader Memoirs 2014

Mashing Apples By Sally Ronalter

t is late at night and I stand in the pool of light just outside of my grandfather’s garage, throwing apples. Not the good ones, the beautiful, shiny red and yellow ones or even the slightly malformed but still good for baking ones — no, I am throwing the drops, the ones that have fallen from the tree before picking and are bruised. I am in the second grade, in Sister Donatella’s class. I grab an apple out of the big washpot where they float, aim for the center of the hopper and watch as the apples disappear down the hole. My grandfather has a thick stick that he uses to push the apples in, a job that I am not yet allowed to do. The generator running the masher is deafening. After the apples are chopped, they fall into the wooden cylinder, and when that is full, Grandpa and I carefully put the plate in place over the mashed apples and turn the screw press until we can’t turn it anymore. The apple juice runs into the shiny stainless pail beneath. It doesn’t look at all like the apple juice my friends’ moms get at the store. It’s much darker, and not clear at all, and on these late summer nights, it is the sweetest smell in the world. Later, we strain the juice through cheesecloth that has been doubled over and pour it into gallon jugs. We line them up on shelves in the cool cellar. Underneath the shelves are the pickle and sauerkraut barrels, covered with thick round Plexiglas covers so that we can check their progress. Above the juice and cider shelves are my grandmother’s shelves, covered with canned tomatoes with basil leaves, corn and beans, pickled beets and such, neatly labeled in her flowing cursive. (Even though I attend Catholic school, I am left-handed and will never learn to write so beautifully.) The onions and carrots are buried in sand in barrels across the room. There is a cold room, where the perishables are kept. It looks like it is lined in foil, and even on the hottest days, you can see your breath. After the juice and cider are finished, Grandpa will start on the applejack and the wine. He’ll draw the blinds, and all of us grandkids will know that the kitchen is off-limits for a while. We are to use the front door, the only time all year when we do. Meanwhile, Grandma and my Great Aunt Millie can vegetables and start on the cherry bounce, all the while trying to avoid the copper tubing that snakes around the kitchen and the thick clouds of steam that leave their faces shiny and their dresses wet. When they are finished, the canned fruit and vegetables are lined up in the basement, while the cherry bounce is buried under the grape arbor. (I never thought to ask why, that’s just the way it was done.) When the wine and the applejack are finished, Grandpa will have a tasting. Attendance is mandatory. The old supermarket shrimp cocktail glasses (now proudly serving as wine glasses) are taken down and filled halfway for

thirteen grandchildren, and all the way for their parents. We are taught to hold them aloft to catch the light, and admire the color; we swirl them a bit and inhale. We sip, then swig. (We’re just kids, after all!) Only the older ones of us are allowed to taste the applejack. It is a lovely amber color, and smells of the very last days of summer, of warmth and late sun and flies lazily circling the apple press, already drunk on mash. It is smooth as honey to sip, and its warmth reaches all the way down to my fingers and toes. At Christmas the cherry bounce comes out. My grandmother asks me to go dig it up, for which I am rewarded with a drunken cherry. Jars are tied with ribbons and sent to the nuns, who without fail ask for more by New Year’s. Summer is my favorite time with Grandpa though, by far. He grows an enormous (for New Jersey) garden, most of which is eaten almost immediately by family. Sometimes, when I spend Friday night at his house, he wakes me while it is still dark and carries me downstairs to his old green Volkswagen. We drive to the shore, arriving with the fishing boats and pick dinner off the docks. Shrimp, lobster, the tiniest cherrystones — all into the ice chest — and we’re back home by ten. Then, he and I walk downtown for breakfast and a newspaper, cigar smoke enveloping us the whole way. When we get back to his house, it’s out into the garden for corn and beans (a nice green and yellow mix) and tomatoes, cukes and onions for salad. We put huge pots of water on propane burners to boil on the patio and wait for the family to arrive. In the kitchen, Aunt Millie is making cucumber salad and Grandma is melting blocks of butter with garlic and Tabasco sauce for dipping. Summer afternoons are spent with cousins running everywhere, watermelon slipping through fingers already greasy with butter from lobster and corn. At dusk we dart into the basement for mason jars to catch the fireflies that emerge in clouds from my grandfather’s front lawn. “Feel the grass,” he chortles, making everyone remove their shoes. I love seeing my engineer father with his pants rolled to his knees and his lily whites swishing through the grass. “It’s like velvet,” he says, and it is. What a lovely man he was! Sally Ronalter is a designer, mother of four and a true Jersey girl.

The Sketch Artist Betty Silvar’s lighthearted way of looking at our towns is enough to make you smile By Serena Brown

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

etty Silvar’s deft watercolors perfectly capture the spirit and atmosphere of our historic Sandhills towns. A self-taught artist who has lived in the Southern Pines area since 1973, she hones her craft meticulously. “Over the years I’ve studied and studied. I’ve taken workshops, I’ve taken lessons, I’ve read and I’ve read. “I try to get realism, but I try to keep it fun and airy,” Silvar says of her artistic process. She prefers to paint from life. “You can’t paint something if you can’t reach out and touch it,” she says. “I spend an awful lot of time sketching. I go all over Southern Pines and Pinehurst. If people see an old lady walking round the village with a sketchpad, it’s me,” she adds, laughing.

The townscapes grew from her witty drawings of the figures she calls her Golf Gals. “I started making fun of myself when I started playing golf. Out of these cartoonish, silly fun things, the street scenes came.” With delicate strokes of pen and washes of watercolor, Silvar infuses every one of her paintings with her lighthearted effervescence. She enjoys people laughing and smiling when they look at her work, considering that merriment the philosophy of her art: “I think people should be happy,” she says. We quite agree. What a nice way to start a brand new year. To see more of Betty Silvar’s work, visit Framer’s Cottage in Southern Pines. PS

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Story of a house

This Old House How a surviving bungalow from the glory days of the Arts and Crafts era found new life — in the nick of time By Gayvin Powers • Photographs by John Gessner

he best homes have character, warmth and charm in spades. Such is the case with the Bush House in Southern Pines, where all three of these qualities come together with a traditional style that was nearly lost to time and the elements. Built in 1905 by the Buchan family, the Arts and Craftstyle bungalow — with its sweeping arches over the front porch — simply begs visitors to stay for sweet tea and a story. If homes could talk, the Bush House would speak in a languid Southern drawl, sharing stories about its origins and recent transformation. The home was originally built by the Buchan family of Manly. In 1925, Dr. E.W. Bush, a respected osteopath who was tired of accompanying his patients on vacation to the Sandhills, began living in the home which would later bear his name. At the time, the house was located in the original historic district of Southern Pines, a miniature mecca for people ailing of tuberculosis. Under one roof, Dr. Bush concurrently raised his family and treated patients, regardless of his patients’ upbringing, economic situation or Civil War affiliation (yes, Yankees were welcome too). His patients spanned from highbrow Rockefellers to down-to-earth Sandhills locals — who sometimes paid for his services with chickens and vegetables during the Depression. When he wasn’t attending to his patients, Dr. Bush could be found either caring for the yard or reading in the living room, cozied up in his favorite PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2014

upholstered chair near the Arts and Crafts fireplace. Everywhere the eye looked, details hearkened back to an earlier time: ornate crown moulding, hardwood floors, and fixtures reminiscent of the Craftsman period. In the kitchen, warm afternoon sunlight filtered in through the lead glass windows and onto the built-in breakfast nook where he had lunch with his family. Kate John’s fondest memory spent with the good doctor, her grandfather, was enjoying lunches with “milky tea served in dainty little Limoges porcelain tea cups — all that remained of my grandmother’s dowry. We children would debate endlessly who got which cup, each pattern different and more beautiful than the next.” After a lifetime of such compelling family memories, having served as a fixture in the community, Bush House, like most treasures, was in desperate need of care. In early 2013, Bill Sahadi, owner of Fore Properties, purchased the property, unsure at the time whether he would restore and sell the home or live in it. After playing doctor to the aging property, and providing the kind of tender care that had been shown to so many within its walls, Sahadi fell in love with the transformation, opting to stay. During the restoration process, Sahadi says his goal was to “retain the spirit of the house. Bring it up to [modern] standards.” He brought in a team to work on the home: Wayne Haddock of Pinehurst Homes, Francy Thompson of Total Design Solutions, Claire Bruno of New View Landscape, and Gail Scott of Lotus Design. With the team’s assistance, Sahadi went a step further than renovation; he expanded the size of the

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

home and incorporated many of the original features, repurposing them throughout. The back of the home gained six feet, making the house more than 2,200 square feet, leading to a gutted kitchen that now includes a farm sink, custom cabinetry, and Tiffany lighting. The old breakfast nook built-in where Dr. Bush’s granddaughter experienced so much joy has a new home as a china hutch in the living room. Originally, the kitchen nook was going to be repurposed as an apothecary cabinet in the master bathroom — formerly the examination room where Dr. Bush tended to his patients, now covered in pale blue and dark brown, a balance of masculine sensibilities and feminine touches. Notable details are the herringbone-patterned tile in the expansive shower, a curved tub, and a bathroom cabinet large enough to house Sahadi’s special collection of shaving accoutrements, an homage to his father. Original details continue to surprise and delight visitors. The snakewood (now endangered) mantel surrounds the fireplace in the living room with its contrasting rich brown striations through a caramel base — a showstopper when entering the home. A door leading to the outside was repurposed as a fun solution to entering the laundry room; instead of a pocket door, the panel was gussied up and hangs on barn door fixtures. The original hardwood floors, supplied by a local lumberyard more than a century ago, were buffed into the modern era. Wayne Haddock executed the restoration and recreated all of the crown moulding to match the original multi-layered effect. Even Dr. Bush’s spinalator, a device used to help his patients throughout the 1900s, has found itself as a fixture in the home.

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Gone are the old scary stairs leading to the second floor that inspired a visitor to double-check the status of one’s life insurance. In its place is a wider wooden staircase with swirling iron balusters. Off the stairwell leading upstairs is one of the home’s most creative features: a storage room that makes a person long to be 5 years old again. No one would suspect that a room is hidden there. Tucked away from the frequently used rooms and common passages in the rest of the home, it’s the ideal playhouse. Nearby is one of Francy Thompson’s favorite finds — ornate mirror frames salvaged

from the basement, drawing attention as a whimsical, functional closet door pulls in the upstairs bedrooms. Full of Old World charm and New World function, the Bush House came through radical surgery just fine. With its character restored, loafing around on the porch with a glass of sweet tea in hand is now a certainty. Only now, there are new stories to add to the life of this old house. PS

H ome S tyles

the

ANTIQUES of

Cameron 11 Antique Shops 3 Great Lunch & Coffee Spots All in the Historic Village of Cameron

Off Hwy 1 Between Sanford & Southern Pines on Hwy 24/27 910.245.7001

www.AntiquesofCameron.com

“Reflect upon your present blessings, Of which every man has plenty; Not on your past misfortunes, Of which all men have some.” — Charles Dickens (1812–1870)

By Noah Salt

What Would Ben Do? In 1726, 20-year-old Ben Franklin — author of Poor Richard’s Almanac — wrote down his thirteen virtues of a successful life. We thought a New Year refresher couldn’t hurt. Temperance. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation. Silence. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation Order. Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have it’s time. Resolution. Resolve to perform what you ought; perform what you resolve without fail. Frugality. Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing. Industry. Lose no time; be always employed in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions. Sincerity. Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly. If you speak, speak accordingly. Justice. Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty. Moderation. Avoid extremes. Cleanliness. Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation. Tranquility. Be not disturbed at trifles, or accidents common or unavoidable. Chastity. Rarely use venery but for health or offspring; never to dullness or the injury of your own or another’s peace or reputation. Humility. Imitate Jesus or Socrates.

Into the Southern Wild New gardening books always brighten our day , and this winter brings the usual crop of promising titles. The one that captured our fancy straight off, however, is Timber Press’ Native Plants of the Southeast by Larry Mellichamp, a comprehensive guide to the best 460 species for the garden. Mellichamp, Director of the University of North Carolina at Charlotte’s Botanical Garden, profiles hundreds of trees, shrubs, vines, wildflowers, the other native plants that call the Southeast home and adapt well to garden cultivation. With concise but comprehensive profiles of plants and how they might best be used in conventional garden settings, lavishly enhanced by photography by veteran wildflower photographer Will Stuart, this book should become the go-to resource for Southern gardeners eager to break out of the “local garden center mode” and truly express their botanical individuality. Retail: $39.95. Available at area bookstores or through Timberpress.com.

A Favorite Winter Plant Daphne odora — aka “Winter Daphne” — is a delightful evergreen shrub, native to China and Japan, that often produces a bounty of fragrant pale pink blooms and sometimes red berries come late January and February. Though Winter Daphne is relatively short lived — ten to twelve years is the norm — the rewards, if placed in a moist and rich loamy soil near a patio or terrace, pruned little and largely left alone, will be appreciated by anyone who loves the garden in winter. Your nose will thank you.

Give and Grow in 2014 Out with the old, in with the new. Go do good and don’t look back. Everyone has a favorite expression for ringing in the high hopes for a new and unblemished year. Some years ago, citing a dodgy track record on the subject, we took inspiration from a gardening friend who abandoned making specific New Year resolutions and aimed instead for a generally low-key goal of being more fulfilled by wanting fewer material things and giving more . If there’s anyplace ideal for growing your own human compassion in the unmarked days ahead, not to mention deepening your connection to the ground beneath your feet, might we suggest you start a new garden and share its bounty with others? People who give flowers and vegetables and even whole trees — as a thoughtful neighbor of ours did a few years ago, bringing over a pair of young Japanese maples — make the world a much better place, one living gift at a time. Every time we look at those beautiful maples, we think fondly of the lady who lost her husband and surprised us with tender baby trees — a lovely metaphor for life and death and the inevitability of spring’s eventual return. PS

Arts Entertainment C a l e n d a r

Jazz by the Mike Wallace Quartet

Donald Ross, his life in Pinehurst

Movie in the Pines. Despicable Me 2

January 1

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FIRST DAY HIKES. 10 a.m. & 2 p.m. Hike with the park ranger to the world’s oldest known longleaf pine tree. Meet at Weymouth Woods Visitor Center and carpool to the Boyd round timber tract. Hike is 1.5 miles. Wear weather appropriate clothing; bring water, binoculars and cameras. No dogs please. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Woods,1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167.

January 2

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CRAFTS AT THE LIBRARY. 10 a.m. – 7 p.m. Stop by the Library with your children to celebrate the New Year with crafts! Craft tables

January 3

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ART EXHIBITION OPENING RECEPTION. 6 – 8 p.m. The Arts Council of Moore County presents Eclectic Inspirations. Featuring works by Laurie Deleot, Michael Girimont and Stephen Girimont. Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Avenue., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www. MooreArt.org. JAZZY FRIDAYS. 7 – 10 p.m. Enjoy a bottle of wine and dancing with friends under

the tent with live jazz music by the Mike Wallace Quartet. Gates open at 6. Admission: $10. Reservations and prepayments are required for parties of eight or more. Food vendor on site. Cypress Bend Vineyards, 21904 Riverton Road, Wagram. Info: (910) 369-0411 or www. cypressbendvineyards.com.

January 3—31

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ART EXHIBITION. 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday – Friday. The Arts Council of Moore County presents Eclectic Inspirations. Featuring works by Laurie Deleot, Michael Girimont and Stephen Girimont. Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Avenue., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www.MooreArt.org.

MEET THE ARTIST. 12 – 3 p.m. Carol Rotter. Hollyhocks Art Gallery, 905 Linden Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 255-0665 or www.hollyhocksartgallery.com.

January 5 ART DEMONSTRATIONS. 2 p.m. – 5 p.m. Artists demonstrate how they will teach their styles in a range of media for beginners through accomplished artists. The Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange Street, Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979 or www.artistsleague.org.

January 5—11

•

Habitat for Humanity week

January 2014 P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Dance/Theater

Film

Literature/Speakers

Fun

History

•

January 4

• •

Music/Concerts

• •

Key:

Art

•

will be set up and activities will be available throughout the day. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Avenue. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

•• • •

Hawaii Trip Meeting

Sports

•

Explorations for Adults. 3 p.m. The Library’s ongoing lecture series. Jean Walker presents Motoring Along the Double Road: A Visual History of Midland Road, detailing people and businesses that were once located along this historic stretch. Free and open to the public. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Avenue. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

•

Carolina Philharmonic. 4 p.m. A Brass Quintet presented by The Carolina Philharmonic. Free; reservations required due to limited seating. The Village Chapel, 10 Azalea Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 687-0287.

• Winnie-the-Pooh Crafts at Southern Pines Library

A Day at the Races Marx Brothers

at P.ZZA. A portion of the proceeds from both dine-in and takeout orders will go directly to Habitat for Humanity of the Sandhills. P.ZZA,127 W. Pennsylvania Avenue, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 684-5030.

•

ART EXHIBITION. 12 – 3 p.m. Monday through Saturday. See How It’s Done, work by The Artists League of the Sandhills teachers. The Exchange Street Gallery of Fine Art, 129 Exchange Street, Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979.

January 8

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GUEST LECTURE. 6 p.m. The EnglishSpeaking Union welcomes Jonna D. Hoppes, granddaughter of General James H. “Jimmy” Doolittle. An Evening With Jimmy Doolittle. Cocktails with dinner to follow. The Country Club of North Carolina, 1600 Morganton Road, Pinehurst. Info: Hope Price (910) 6927727; reservations (910) 692-6565.

January 9

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Gathering at Given. 3:30 p.m. Audrey Moriarty will talk about Donald Ross: his life in Pinehurst, his body of work and the major championship history on Ross-designed courses. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-6022.

•

Exhibition Opening Reception. 4:30 – 6:30 p.m. 5 Women – 5 Faces of Art. Work in bronze, pen and ink, oils, watercolor and photography. Free and open to the public. Hastings Gallery, Boyd Library, Sandhills Community College, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Info: Denise Baker (910) 695-3879.

ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT. 6:46 p.m. The Grandsons, “American music in a blender with the lid off,” and the Jon Shain Trio, a wonderful combination of Piedmont blues and contemporary singer-songwriter. Seating is by general admission. Doors open at 6. Tickets: $16, available at the door and online. 114 Knight Street, Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org.

January 14

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CABIN FEVER RELIEVER. 5:30 p.m. Does winter have you feeling blue? Shake off those blues at the Family Fun Night Cabin Fever Reliever! Get moving during this fun night of games and crafts! For children in grades K-5 and their families. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Avenue. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

•

NC SYMPHONY PRESENTS BEETHOVEN’S 5TH. 8 p.m. – 10 p.m. The North Carolina Symphony and Music Director Grant Llewellyn perform one of the most powerful pieces of music ever written. Cost: $24 – $50. Robert E. Lee Auditorium, Pinecrest High School, 250 Voit Gilmore Lane, Southern Pines. Info and tickets: (919) 733-2750 or www. ncsymphony.org.

January 9—28

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ART EXHIBITION. Times vary. 5 Women – 5 Faces of Art. Work in bronze, pen and ink, oils, watercolor and photography. Free and open to the public. Hastings Gallery, Boyd Library, Sandhills Community College, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Times and info: Denise Baker (910) 695-3879.

January 10

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STORY TIME AT THE BOOKSHOP. 10:30 a.m. Bad Kitty will be coming to The Country Bookshop for story time! The Country Bookshop, 140 N.W. Broad Street, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3211 or www.thecountrybookshop.biz.

•

Movie in the Pines. 7p.m. Despicable Me 2. The sequel to the wildly successful 2010

Key:

• • Art

•

RUTH PAULEY LECTURE SERIES. 7:30 p.m. Silent Too Long—What Southern Foods Would Tell Us if They Could Talk by Sandhills Community College Associate Professor Ray Linville. Free and open to the public. Owens Auditorium, Sandhills Community College, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 245-3132.

animated picture, following Gru (voiced by Steve Carell), the ex-scheming evildoer-turnedparental figure, from animation company Illumination Entertainment. Free and open to the public. Southern Pines Recreation Center, 160 Memorial Park Court. Info: (910) 692-2463.

•

BEACH FRIDAYS. 7 – 10 p.m. Enjoy wine and dancing with friends under the tent with live beach music by Terry Gore and Jackie Gore. Gates open at 6. Admission: $10. Reservations and prepayments are required for parties of eight or more. Food vendor on site. Cypress Bend Vineyards, 21904 Riverton Road, Wagram. Info: 910-369-0411 or www. cypressbendvineyards.com.

January 11

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January 15

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HAWAII TRIP MEETING. 2 p.m. Information for those who are interested in a trip to beautiful and balmy Hawaii for ten magical days and seven wonderful nights, September 5 –14, 2014. The trip is sponsored by the Moore County Historical Association. Shaw House, 110 West Morganton Road, Southern Pines. Info: Carolyn (910) 692-8344.

January 17

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JAZZY FRIDAYS. 7 – 10 p.m. Enjoy a bottle of wine and dancing with friends under the tent with live jazz music by the Mike Wallace Quartet. Gates open at 6. Admission: $10. Reservations and prepayments are required for parties of eight or more. Food vendor on site. Cypress Bend Vineyards, 21904 Riverton Road, Wagram. Info: (910) 369-0411 or www. cypressbendvineyards.com.

MEET THE ARTIST. 12 – 3 p.m. Morgen Kilbourn. Hollyhocks Art Gallery, 905 Linden Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 255-0665 or www. hollyhocksartgallery.com.

January 18

A NIGHT OF BLUEGRASS. 7 p.m. Live music featuring Honky Tonk Group Award nominees The Malpass Brothers. Cost: $15. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad Street, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8501 or www. sunrisetheater.com.

CHILDREN’S ART CLASS. 9 –11 a.m. A fun class with artist Jane Casnellie. No experience necessary; all materials provided. Cost: $35 per person. 905 Linden Road, Pinehurst. Info and registration: (910) 255-0665.

•

January 12

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ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT. 12:46 p.m. The Grandsons – Intro to Jazz. A show for all the family! Seating is by general admission. Doors open at 12 p.m. Tickets: $15, available at the door and online. 114 Knight Street, Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www. theroosterswife.org.

Music/Concerts

•

Dance/Theater

• • Film

•• •

WINNIE-THE-POOH CRAFTS. 10 a.m. – 5 p.m. Celebrate the birthday of beloved children’s book author A.A. Milne with Winniethe-Pooh crafts! The fun goes all day. Open to children grades K-5 and their families. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Avenue. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

•

MEET THE ARTIST. 12 – 3 p.m. Michele Garrett Laster. Hollyhocks Art Gallery, 905

Literature/Speakers

• • Fun

History

•

Sports

i n i n g

Guid

ca l e n d a r Linden Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 255-0665 or www.hollyhocksartgallery.com.

January 19

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SUNDAY AFTERNOON MOVIE. 2:30 p.m. Despicable Me 2. Universal Pictures presents this sequel to the wildly successful 2010 animated picture following Gru, the ex-scheming evildoerturned-parental figure. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Avenue. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

195 american fusion cuisine supporting local farmers

lunch tues-sat 11-3 dinner wed-sat 5:30-9:30 chef prem nath

195 bell avenue southern pines 910.692.7110 www.195americanfusion.com

•

ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT. 6:46 p.m. Live “Harmonic Roots” music with acclaimed quintet The Farewell Drifters. Seating is by general admission. Doors open at 6. Tickets: $12, available at the door and online. 114 Knight Street, Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org.

January 21

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League of Women Voters meeting. 11:30 a.m. Annual planning meeting with guest speaker. Lunch, $12. Table on the Green, Midland Country Club, 2205 Midland Road, Pinehurst. Reservations required: (910) 944-9611.

Specializing in Authentic Japanese Cuisine Hibachi • Sushi • Noodles and Tempura dishes Party Rooms Available www.mtfujibistro.com • 910-944-9340

Open Lunch: Tues-Fri. & Sun- 11:30-2:00 pm (no lunch Saturday) Dinner 5-9 pm, Fri. & Sat-5-10 pm Closed Monday Winery Events for

January Live Music Every

FRIDAY NIGHT Admission $10/Person

January Friday Night Music Dates

BEAcH FRIDAYs

January 10 - Terry Gore & Jackie Gore th

“Godfather of Beach Music

January 24th - The sand Band

JAzzY FRIDAYs

January 3rd, 17th & 31st with Mike Wallace Quartet

Gates open at 6pm with live music from 7-10pm $10pp cypressbendvineyards.com

21904 Riverton Rd Wagram, Nc 910-369-0411 78

January 21

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Young Adult Readers’ program. 5:30 p.m. (Grades 6-12). The program continues with Murder in the Library. Become an amateur investigator solving crimes in a live-action murder mystery. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Avenue. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

January 24

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SIGNING AT THE BOOKSHOP. 4:30 p.m. Tim Swink will be signing copies of his debut novel, Curing Time. The Country Bookshop, 140 N.W. Broad Street, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3211 or www.thecountrybookshop.biz.

•

WEYMOUTH LECTURE SERIES. 6:30 p.m. The second part of Jeffrey Mims’s fine art series, Immortal Companions II. How We Might Live: Collaborations between Architects and Mural Painters. Followed by a reception. Tickets: $60, reservations required. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Avenue., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-6261.

•

BEACH FRIDAYS. 7 – 10 p.m. Enjoy wine and dancing with friends under the tent with live beach music by The Sand Band. Gates open at 6. Admission: $10. Reservations and prepayments are required for parties of eight or more. Food vendor on site. Cypress Bend Vineyards, 21904 Riverton Road, Wagram. Info: (910) 369-0411 or www.cypressbendvineyards.com.

January 25

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PRUNING WORKSHOP. 10 a.m. – 12 p.m. A workshop and demonstration of correct pruning techniques with Moore County Extension Agent Taylor Williams, then head outside for a handson demonstration in the Sandhills Horticultural Gardens. Free; reservations necessary. Ball Visitors Center, Sandhills Community College Horticultural Gardens, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 695-3882 or www.sandhillshorticulturalgardens.com.

•

MEET THE ARTIST. 12 – 3 p.m. Jessie Mackay. Hollyhocks Art Gallery, 905 Linden Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 255-0665 or www.hollyhocksartgallery.com.

January 26

•

HISTORIC ABERDEEN BOOK TALK. 2 p.m. Aberdeen resident Robbie Farrell will talk about his pictorial history of Aberdeen, the latest in the Images of America series published by Arcadia. Sponsored by The Moore County Historical Association. Bethesda Presbyterian Church, 1002 N. Sandhills Boulevard (Route 1 South), Aberdeen. Info: (910) 692-2051.

•

Oldies and Goodies film. 2:30 – 4:30 p.m. A Day at the Races, a 1937 Marx Brothers classic. Enjoy a classic film and a cup of tea. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Avenue. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

•

ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT. 6:46 p.m. Live vintage southern folk, bluegrass, and country with Little Country Giants, Lynda Dawson and Patti Hopkins. The Poplar Knight Spot, 114

••• • •

Key: Art Music/Concerts Film Literature/Speakers Sports

• • •

Dance/Theater Fun History

January 2014 P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

ca l e n d a r Knight St, Aberdeen. Seating is by general admission. Doors open at 6. Tickets available at the door and online. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org.

Cypress Bend Vineyards, 21904 Riverton Road, Wagram. Info: (910) 369-0411 or www.cypressbendvineyards.com.

January 27

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SANDHILLS NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY MEETING. 7 p.m. Visitors Welcome! Weymouth Woods Auditorium, 1024 Fort Bragg Rd, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 6922167 or www.sandhillsnature.org.

January 28

ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT. 6:46 p.m. Live music with progressive string band Flatland Harmony Experiment, 3rd place winners at 40th annual Telluride. The Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St, Aberdeen. Seating is by general admission. Doors open at 6. Tickets available at the door and online. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org.

•

February 6

CITIZEN’S ACADEMY. 6:30 – 8 p.m. The Town of Southern Pines Citizen’s Academy continues with a session conducted by the Southern Pines Police Department. A behind-the-scenes look at operations of the Police Department. Spaces may still be available for drop-in at this session. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Avenue. Info and to sign up: (910) 692-8235.

January 30

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NC SYMPHONY PRESENTS BEETHOVEN’S 5 . 8 p.m. – 10 p.m. The North Carolina Symphony and Resident Conductor William Henry Curry perform one of the most powerful pieces of music ever written. Cost: $5 – 25. Seabrook Auditorium, Fayetteville State University Campus, 1200 Murchison Road, Fayetteville. Info: (877) 627-6724 or www. ncsymphony.org. TH

January 31 JAZZY FRIDAYS. 7 – 10 p.m. Enjoy a bottle of wine and dancing with friends under the tent with live jazz music by the Mike Wallace Quartet. Gates open at 6. Admission: $10. Reservations and prepayments are required for parties of eight or more. Food vendor on site.

Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St. in historic Aberdeen. Exhibit hours are noon – 3 p.m., MondaySaturday. (910) 944-3979.

February 1

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AUTHOR AT THE BOOKSHOP. 4:30 p.m. Evelyn McNeill with Zero To Eighty: Over Unpaved Roads, A Memoir. The author shares her incredible journey from a tobacco farm to becoming East Carolina University’s first female medical school instructor. The Country Bookshop, 140 N.W. Broad Street, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3211 or www.thecountrybookshop.biz.

Monday-Saturday. (910) 692-6077.

Broadhurst Gallery, 2212 Midland Road, Pinehurst. Showcases works by nationally recognized artists such as Louis St. Lewis, Lula Smith, Shawn Morin, Rachel Clearfield, Judy Cox and Jason Craighead. Meet-the-artist opportunities available. MondayFriday (closed Wednesday), 11 a.m. – 5 p.m., Saturday, 1 – 4 p.m & special appointments. (910) 295-4817, www.broadhurstgallery.com.

CAROLINA PHILHARMONIC. 7 p.m. Pinehurst Pops: A Night on Broadway with Janine LaManna. Maestro David Michael Wolff leads the Carolina Philharmonic Orchestra, with Evening with Broadway star Janine LaManna. Ticket prices vary. Robert E. Lee Auditorium, Pinecrest High School, Southern Pines. Info: www.carolinaphil.org or (910) 687-0287.

The Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Avenue., Southern Pines. Monday-Friday 9 a.m. – 5 p.m. and every third weekend of the month from 2 – 4 p.m. (910) 692-4356, www.mooreart.org. The Downtown Gallery inside Cup of Flow, 115 NE Broad St., Southern Pines. Ever-changing array of local and regional art, pottery and other handmade items. (910) 693-1999.

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10th Annual SPELLING BEE FOR LITERACY. 7 – 8:30 p.m. A wacky evening of light-hearted competition to benefit Moore County Literacy Council. Open seating, tickets required, $10 donation (kids free). Robert E. Lee Auditorium, Pinecrest High School, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-5954 or www.mcliteracy.com.

Exchange Street Gallery, Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange Street in historic Aberdeen. “It’s Southern, Ya’ll,” works of Pat McMahon and Betty DiBartolomeo. September 2-28. Regular hours noon to 3:00, Monday-Saturday. (910) 944-3979.

Art Galleries

The Gallery at Seven Lakes at the St. Mary Magdalene building, 1145 Seven Lakes Drive. Just nine miles from the Pinehurst Traffic Circle up 211, this gallery is dedicated to local artists. Wednesday-Thursday 1 – 4 p.m.

ABOUT ART GALLERY inside The Market Place Midland Bistro Building, 2160 Midland Road, Pinehurst. The gallery features local artists. Open Monday-Friday 11 a.m. – 2 p.m. (910) 215-596. ART NUTZ AND RAVEN POTTERY, 125 SW Broad St., Southern Pines. Come see the potter at work. Features art, pottery from local potters, handmade jewelry, glass and more. MondaySaturday 10 a.m. – 5 p.m. (910) 695-1555, www.ravenpottery.com. Artist GAlleRy OF SOUTHERN PINES, 167 E. New Hampshire Avenue., Southern Pines. Features art and fine crafts from more than 60 North Carolina artists. 10 a.m. – 5 p.m.,

Key:

• • Art

Music/Concerts

•

Dance/Theater

Hastings Gallery in the Katharine L. Boyd Library at Sandhills Community College, Pinehurst. Gallery hours are Monday-Thursday 7:45 a.m. – 9 p.m., Friday 7:45 a.m. – 5 p.m. and Saturday 8:30 a.m. – 2 p.m. HOLLYHOCKS ART GALLERY, 905 Linden Road, Pinehurst. Features artwork by local award winning artists, Phyllis Andrews, Equine Sculptor Morgen Kilbourn, Diane Kraudelt, Carol Rotter, Jessie MacKay, jeweler Michele Garrett Laster and artist/owner, Jane Casnellie. Monday-Saturday 10:30 a.m. – 9:30 p.m. (910)

• • Film

1 Membership

PineStraw

would like to wish our readers and advertisers a Happy New Year!

Literature/Speakers

2 Clubs

• • Fun

History

•

Sports

4 Courses

The Club of the Sandhills 4 Championship Golf Courses

Unlimited Golf at All Four Courses Unlimited Complimentary PGA Golf Instruction Swimming Pool & Fitness Center Access Exceptional Meeting Space for 10 - 345 Guests

Beautiful Wedding Venues Experienced Event Planner & Culinary Team Lodgings at CCWP Golf Courses Open To The Public For Membership, Events & Accommodations 910.949.4332

ACTive DuTy Military Discounts on All Memberships

January 2014 P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Seasonal Advice! from page 95

ca l e n d a r

January PineNeedler Answers

255-0665, www.hollyhocksartgallery.com.

1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. (910) 692-2167.

Lady Bedford’s Tea Parlour, 21 Chinquapin Road, Pinehurst. Features local artist Jude Winkley’s original oil paintings. Tuesday - Saturday 8 a.m. – 4 p.m. (910) 255-0100, www. ladybedfords.com.

VILLAGE ARBORETUM. 35 acres of land adjoining the Village Hall on Magnolia Road, Pinehurst. (910) 295-1900.

The Old Silk Route, 113 West Main St., Aberdeen. Specializes in Asian original art, including silk paintings, tapestries, Buddhist Thangkas and Indian paper miniatures. Monday, Thursday-Saturday 11 a.m. – 4 p.m. (910) 295-2055.

Historical Sites Bethesda Church and Cemetery. Guided tours for groups by appointment. 1020 Bethesda Road, Aberdeen. (910) 944-1319. Bryant House and McLendon Cabin. Tours by appointment. (910) 692-2051 or (910) 673-0908.

Sandhills Woman’s Exchange,15 Azalea Road, Pinehurst. Christmas wreaths, new ornaments for your tree and gifts for someone special. All merchandise at the Exchange is handmade by consignors who live in the community. 10 a.m. – 3 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday. Lunch served 11:30 a.m. – 2 p.m. The Exchange will close for its winter break on December 21 and reopen on February 4, 2014. (910) 295-4677.

Carthage Historical Museum. Sundays, 2 – 5 p.m. or by appointment. Located at Rockingham and Saunders streets, Carthage. (910) 947-2331.

Seagrove Candle Company, 116 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Showcases art of the Sandhills and Seagrove area. Monday, Wednesday-Saturday 10 a.m. – 5 p.m., (910) 695-0029.

Malcolm Blue Farm and Museum. 1 – 4 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday. Group tours can be arranged by appointment. (910) 944-7558 or (910) 603-2739.

SKY Art Gallery, 602 Magnolia Dr., Aberdeen. Tues.-Sat. 10 a.m. – 5 p.m. (910) 944-9440, www.skyartgallery.com.

North Carolina Literary Hall of Fame. 10 a.m. – 2 p.m., Monday-Friday, at the Weymouth Center for Arts and Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Avenue., Southern Pines. (910) 692-6261.

Studio 590 by the pond in Dowd Cabin, 590 Dowd Circle, Pinehurst. This historic log cabin is the working studio and gallery of artists Betty DiBartolomeo and Harry Neely. Fine oil paintings, commissions and instruction. (910) 639-9404. White Hill Gallery, 407 U.S. 15-501, Carthage, offers a variety of pottery. (910) 947-6100.

Nature Centers Sandhills Horticultural Gardens (32 acres of gardens). The Sandhills Horticultural Gardens are handicappedaccessible. Daylight hours year-round. (910) 695-3882. Weymouth Woods Sandhills Nature Preserve (898 acres).

Key:

• • Art

Music/Concerts

•

Dance/Theater

PINEWILD - GOLF FRONT

House in the Horseshoe. Open year-round. Hours vary. 288 Alston House Road (10 miles north of Carthage), Sanford. (910) 947-2051.

Shaw House. Open 1 – 4 p.m. Tuesday-Friday. (910) 692-2051. Tufts Archives. 9:30 a.m. – 5 p.m., Monday-Friday, and 9:30 a.m. – 12:30 p.m. Saturday. (910) 295-3642. Union Station. Open 8 a.m. – 5 p.m. Located in downtown Aberdeen. (910) 944-5902. Sandhills Woman’s Exchange Log Cabin. Open 10 a.m. – 3 p.m. (910) 295-4677. PS To add an event, email us at pinestraw@thepilot.com by the first of the month prior to the event. Or go to www.thepilot.com and add the event to our online calendar.

• • Film

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History

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Sports

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P.O. BOX 58 Southern Pines, NC 28388

To Educate. To Entertain. To Inspire.

FREE Admission

Masterworks Presented by:

World Travels

Saturday, February 8th, 2014

Seabrook Auditorium, Fayetteville State University

7:30pm Tips, tools and techniques for your home

February 22-23 at Crown Expo Center Sat. 10 a.m. - 6 p.m. & Sun. 10 a.m.- 5 p.m.

Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 6 Saturday, March 15th, 2014

Seabrook Auditorium, Fayetteville State University

7:30pm

The Great Romantics: Berlioz, Bruckner, and Brahms

Saturday, April 5th, 2014

Huff Concert Hall, Methodist University

7:30pm

For tickets:

www.fayettevillesymphony.org | (910)433-4690

www.CarolinaHomeShow.com 82

January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

SandhillSeen

Holly & Ivy Dinner Benefit for Tufts Archives â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Given Memorial Library Monday, December 2, 2013 Photographs by John Gessner

Liz and Murray Stern

Rear: John Strickland, John Taylor Front: Cynthia Strickland, Carolyn Taylor

Richard and Mary Ann Mc Crary

Lulu and Charlie Eichhorn

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Doug and Ginny Lapins Ron Schuch and Connie Atwell

Jerry and Tudy Townley

Ed and Sally Frick

Ken and Nancy Geddes

Bill and Ruby Sledge

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We are

“the venue”

that provides a variety of possibilities! From top quality entertainment, to one of the best open mic nights in town. The atmosphere is perfect to enjoy music, friends, great food and cocktails. And most importantly, we are happy to provide you with the customer service that you expect and deserve.

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You’re Invited to Discover Where an Amazing Life Begins. Come to

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Sunday, January 26th 2pm-4pm The Hannah Center O’Neal Campus 3300 Airport Road • Southern Pines 910-692-6920 • www.ONealSchool.org

PRESERVING AND RESTORING HISTORICAL HOMES Relocated from Nantucket Island now servicing Moore County with over 16 years of carpentry experience

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Preserving & Restoring Historical Homes Additions • New Construction • Remodeling • Caretaking • Renovations & Repairs Custom made furniture and built-in cabinetry

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January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Terry Cook, Barbara Sedwick

SandhillSeen MC Hounds Opening Meet â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Hobby Field Wednesday, November 27, 2013 Photographs by Jeanne Paine

Richmond Family

Mike Paget Lincoln Sadler

Dick Webb, Cameron Sadler, Effie Ellis and Mike Russell

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The Rev. John Tampa Dr. Lee Sedwick

Gary Lergner, Dr. Lee Sediwck (90 years old)

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BUYING GOLD & SILVER HIGHEST PRICES PAID!

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910.235.COIN (2646)

Whispering Pines Animal Hospital Compassionate Care for Cherished Pets E. Lyerly, D.V.M • E. Pelkey, D.V.M Wm. McDuffie, D.V.M • D. Hobbs, D.V.M K. Andrews, D.V.M

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CUTLER TREE

Tree Pruning • Removal Plant Site Consulting Stump Grinding • Shrub Care Tree Conservation for New Home Sites Free Estimates Geoffrey Cutler Fully Insured 910-692-7769 910-690-7657

January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

SandhillSeen

Jackie and Robert Hayter

Sandhills Community College 50th Anniversary Celebration Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Photographs by Al and Annette Daniels

Randall Phillips, Stephen Later

Nancy and Stewart Heilman SCC Student Government president Shauntel Gaines, Germaine Elkins

Evelyn Dempsey, Teri Kilarski

Jennifer Dail, Alita Hamilton, Raven Brown, Germaine Elkins

Jean and Stan Bradshaw, Jackie Hayter

Earl and Anne Ellis, Lin and Herb Hilton

Wyatt and Mary Upchurch Judy Corso, Wanda Little

Sarah Bustami, Betsy Simon, Deborah Davies

Alicia Riggan, Jennifer Dail, Forest Creek Executive Chef Dennis Durkin

Dorene and Dave Weiss

First SCC president Raymond Stone, and his wife, Rachel

Janice and Vito Gironda

SandhillSeen

Valerie and Murray Pittman

Pinewild Country Club Holly Ball Saturday, December 7, 2013 Photographs by Al and Annette Daniels

Jerry and Yvonne Taylor

Kevin Connelly, Judy Preboske, Dave Meyer, John Lowry Karen Gilbert, Peggy Simone, Barb Rueb

Shari Devendorf, Nancy Hill, Sue Jacobsen

Jeff and Donna Coates

Gary Jacobsen, Danielle and Joe Byrd

John Lowry, Barbara Kenny Gary and Phyllis Clark, Karen and Dennis Fogle

Diane Anello, Mike Hancock, Dave and Sandy Hubbard

Debra and John Pantaleo

Dick and Joy Hamon, Bose and James Obi

January 2014P��PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

SandhillSeen

“Tender Is the Night Before Christmas” at Weymouth Wednesday, December 4, 2013 Photographs by Al and Annette Daniels

Andrea Leach as Katharine Boyd, Dominick Pagnotta as James Boyd

Jennie and Jack Sherrill

Donna Verrilli, Sandra Phillips Ann Jones, Carol Westerly, DeeAnn Deet

Taylor Bunch, Whitney Parker, Cindy Pagnotta, Leann Heustess

Rosemary Zuhone, Barbara Keating, Rita DiNapoli, Ginny Notestine

George and Barbara Dvorozniak

Ron Rhody, Aurele and Jack Timken, Patsy Rhody

Mandy Nordstrom, Michael Lamb

Cheryl Ermini

Jim Schmalenberger, Joan Latta, Bob Lowery

Peter Nero THURS., JANUARY 16

FRI, FEBRUARY 21

2013-14 Season

Performing Arts Center For 39 years, GPAC has brought great entertainment to southeastern North Carolina. From Broadway musicals to popular musical acts, each season GPAC offers diverse performances at affordable prices.

For ticket info: 910.521.6361 www.uncp.edu/gpac

the groundbreaking BROADWAY musical

FRI, APRIL 4

Don’t miss these other great events: The Vienna Concert-Verein Orchestra - Tue, January 28, 2014 Russian National Ballet presents Giselle - Tue, April 1, 2014 The 4th Annual River People Music & Culture Festival Celebrate American Indian Music and Dance - April 25-26, 2014

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January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

T h o u g hts f r o m T h e Ma n S h e d

The Blizzard of ’78 The day the chandelier swung

By Geoff Cutler

His dad had a condominium on the 36th floor

of one of the twin Harbor Towers, and we’d made it back there just before traffic throughout the whole metropolitan area of Boston came to a standstill. Outside our windows, the snow, blown on 70-mph winds, formed an impenetrable wall. We couldn’t even see the other tower just across the driveway. This was on the afternoon of Monday, February 6, 1978. That day, one of the most savage snowstorms in history descended on the Northeast. A storm that later became known as the “Blizzard of ’78.”

On the Friday before this storm, we were let out of boarding school for a short winter break. A bunch of us hopped a bus bound for Stratton Mountain in Vermont. One of the guys’ parents had a house there, and we spent the weekend skiing, partying and just otherwise carrying on like a bunch of graduating high school seniors are apt to. On Monday morning, Blake and I boarded another bus for Boston, where we’d spend a couple more days before we had to return to school for the remainder of winter semester. Those couple of days at home turned into about a week. As the bus descended out of Vermont, and eventually into Massachusetts, snow began to fall hard. And it was accumulating fast. The bus and other traffic slowed to a crawl. Soon, we began to see smaller vehicles pulling off, or already stopped by the side of the road. Our bus, big and heavy, lumbered on through sporadic snow drifts that had us weaving back and forth across the lanes, trying to stay where the pavement was still somewhat navigable. Even if we still didn’t understand the severity of what was occurring outside, we knew we were lucky to make it back to the city and into the safety of Blake’s condo. Except that while dumping our luggage and brushing the snow off ourselves, I happened to notice that the chandelier hanging over his dad’s dining room table was swinging back and forth as if on a ship at sea. Not a comforting feeling on one of the uppermost floors of a skyscraper. Blake said it probably wasn’t something to worry about, that tall buildings are designed to sway a bit in heavy winds. How soothing! A few minutes later, he called out from the bathroom: “Hey, Geoff! Come check out the water sloshing around in the toilets!” Oh . . . excellent.

Late the following morning, February 7, the storm had begun to exhaust itself. We were alone in the condo and wanted to see others. Fully equipped from our weekend in Vermont, with all the proper snow clothing, boots, gators and other snow gear, we decided to venture out and see if we could make it to my house in Brookline, about eight miles away. During the night, one in which I’d pulled the pillow over my head so as not to hear the howling winds outside, the power had gone out. With the power went the elevator. Our trip began by taking the stairs down thirty-six floors to the lobby. Outside, except for a dying wind, it was quiet. Big snow muffled the sounds of the city. Skies remained gray, but you could tell the worst was over. Parked vehicles were buried, and only a few people wandered the streets. We set out in two feet of snow for the nearest subway. The trolley took us only as far as Kenmore Square and Fenway Park. After that, the system emerged from underground, and the trolley could go no farther. Out in the daylight once more, the sky was clearing and we began our hike to the suburbs. People had come out now. Most were working to clear their cars. Others passed on snowmobiles and cross-country skis. Some were building snowmen. Great plows, one following another, came along and threw fresh mountains of snow on the cars being cleared. Over and over again, we stopped to help push those who were stuck from their spaces. A wonderful camaraderie of people helping one another grew out of the storm. It was fun to be part of it. Late that afternoon, we reached my house. The windblown and drifted snow had virtually buried it. Family members were working shovels and the snow blower. They were glad to see us. We were glad to see them. My dad, covered head to toe in snow from working the blower, said, “One hell of a storm, boy!” The Blizzard of ’78 caught skeptical New Englanders by surprise. Forecasters had predicted the storm would be upon us in the pre-dawn hours of Monday, February 6. When that didn’t occur, people went to work. When the snow finally began around midday, those same people couldn’t make up their minds about whether to head home early or not. Too soon, it became too late. Thousands became stranded on our expressways, and fourteen died in their cars from carbon monoxide poisoning. Many more never left work at all. The Boston Garden turned into a hotel for hockey fans who became trapped there. High tides washed oceanfront properties away. Governor Dukakis banned all motor vehicle traffic for days after the storm. The Boston Globe didn’t publish its daily paper. The National Guard was called in. Mountains of roadside snow had to be dumped into the Charles River and Boston Harbor. I’ve often thought that if we had been driving our own car to Boston on the afternoon of February 6, 1978, instead of riding that big old bus, we might have found ourselves stranded on the highway and in need of rescue. I loved that bus. PS Geoff Cutler is owner of Cutler Tree LLC in Southern Pines. He is a regular contributor to PineStraw. He can be reached at geoffcutler@embarqmail.com.

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January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

T h e A c c i d e n ta l A st r o l o g e r

The New Year

Here’s to deep fried Elvis and better sequins in 2014 By Astrid Stellanova My New Year’s resolution is to eat a deep fried Elvis — banana and peanut butter sandwich — for breakfast. Also, I resolve to buy better sequins, because I am tired of them dang things falling off on the floor like party dandruff. My third resolution is to find me a gas station that pumps gas — heard there’s one over at Golden Gate shopping center. Sick of ruining my very expensive airbrushed nails filling up the tank. Here’s my advice: Make resolutions we know we can keep. I resolve to eat three Hershey’s kisses every morning. To swear less. And to get my muffin top fat sucked out with that laser thingie.

Capricorn (December 22-January 19) Seemed like by the time you blew the candles out on your birthday cake last year, something else was on fire. Like your hair. 2013 was that kind of year. But Venus transits your sign January 31 – March 5, which is good news. Prosperity ahead in 2014. You’re an earth sign, and it’s unlikely you are going to go get an ankle tattoo or do something rash with all that new cash. But the stars are going to ground you, and what you might do is get too rooted in an idea and just not know when to quit. This is a new year, and everything can work if you figure out how to keep your eyes open to a very good opportunity and not miss it.

Aquarius (January 20-February 18) Write, record, draw, anything, but hit the mute button and dial back on the dialogue. I’ve known a lot of Aquarians and they are all good talkers . . . um, communicators. But, at least you have got lots to communicate about because this month you are going to be a good luck magnet. Between the new year and July, Jupiter transits Cancer, which is good for Aquarius. It either means you can work it faster or work it better. Just work it, Water Bug. If you ain’t working, the best date to look for a job is the 15th.

Pisces (February 19-March 20) Despite too much Pabst, Thunderbird and Mogen David on the 31st, clear the cobwebs and take heart. January 1 is a big day, Sweet Thing, and you’ll feel great after a pack of Nabs and a bloody Mary, Beau’s favorite breakfast. You are in the mood for love this month, and your love engine is hitting on all cylinders. The other good news is that your work life gets more traction too. Work life? Check. Love life? Double-check. You’re going to feel like a water bug on a lily pad — good enough to bust and somewhere to land.

Aries (March 21-April 19) I’m gonna bet a sausage biscuit you’ve been fuming because your social life ain’t up to par. By the 11th, you got more going on than even you can handle, and you are living large, eating fried tenderloin with red-eye gravy. Little fire sign, the stars will align for you this month. You’re in high cotton, and your professional life is about to blow wide open. Do that TV commercial; get in on that new business idea. You may have something bigger than the Salad Spinner up your sleeve. Or the Inertia Egg Beater. You can’t tell what might happen next, even if you do piss a few off.

Taurus (April 20-May 20) You got Mars in your sixth house just as the new year starts, so Honey, this means the party is on. But there is also something else interesting going on in the Taurus family dynamic. January could be the month you learn about a sibling you never knew you had, or get some discombobulating DNA results. All of which means your actual family history is a mystery. Switched at the hospital? Your father is an alien? No matter, when the mystery clears, you might discover you like being a little more exotic than you ever knew.

Gemini (May 21-June 20) Whatever you say about this sign, you won’t call it dull. Here’s some good news: You could sell ice to Eskimos this month. You could talk the queen into running nekkid across Balmoral during her winter vacation. You could make Beau tell the truth about how much he paid for them

new rims. You got big mojo this month. But don’t just work it — have some fun. Go to the Bahamas and learn to sled with that wild bunch. Learn to speak fluent dog. Buy a Ouija board and find out where Grandpa Hornblower hid the money. Then call me.

Cancer (June 21-July 22) There are a lot of attractive qualities in a Cancer. But being stingy is not one of them. Loosen them purse strings and share the wealth, ’cause you are coming into some unexpected money. A very good financial situation for 2014. Now you can pay off that boat you never use. So, buy a cup of coffee for the next person in line. Also, this year you may start seeing ghosts. I ain’t quite saying you will give the Long Island Medium a run for her money, but you are definitely going to move into unexplored territory.

Leo (July 23-August 22) The thing about Leo is, you are a people magnet, but once you attract them, you don’t know exactly what to do with them. It would be nice if you liked people as much as they think you do. You got some complicated times to navigate in the love department. But you do have a very active dream life, and this month you may even dream up a scheme that can actually work. A new career is definitely on the horizon. Let’s hope it ain’t a Ponzi scheme.

Virgo (August 23 –September 22) You start this year by having unexpected spiritual experiences, so keep your mind open but your mouth shut. Or your mind shut and your mouth open — either way you get a taste of something new. January 1 has the new moon in Capricorn, which is good for relationships and love, and ole Virgo could hit pay dirt on Match.com. This month will be a time of earthly delights, better than a Baby Ruth and a 7UP. It ain’t half bad being you right now!

Libra (September 23-October 22) Being thrifty pays off this month, when your investments finally hit. Financially, you are a mini-Warren Buffett, and don’t let anybody mock you for bringing a baloney sandwich for lunch. You have had the good sense to tighten your belt when you needed to, and this month you see the benefit. Hey, you may drive a 20-year-old Toyota, but it’s paid for, and you get the last laugh when you finally get to take the family to Disney World. Just don’t make them go listen to a time-share spiel for the free admission tickets.

Scorpio (October 23-November 21) Everybody knows the test for the Scorpio is to learn about vulnerability. But what everybody doesn’t know, ’cause you’re so good at keeping secrets, is you are never more vulnerable than when you go to a Mary Kay party. Hey, I understand the power of a good lipstick or Spanx. But that isn’t really addressing things, is it? When the new moon in Capricorn brings in the new year, you got a lot going on. By the 30th, a lot of what is worrying you is resolved.

Sagittarius (November 22-December 21) The first part of the month — as credit-card bills roll in — may not be your best time, but you’ll get your financial house in order. Just don’t party so much over the holidays you forget what house is yours. The last part of the month is the better part. And relief is at hand by the 11th. Did I mention this is the month you will win new friends and develop super powers in the career arena? Well, Astrid don’t lie. PS

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

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January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Seasonal Advice! January PineNeedler

By Mart Dickerson

20,8 across.,--67 across.,60,32,54 down. Seasonal Advice!

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Sudoku:

2 4

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welcome any suggestions from her fellow puzzle masters. She can be reached at gdickerson@nc.rr.com.

Moore CouNty’S NuMber#1

real eState Firm

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Tammy Lyne, ReaLToR 910-235-0208

CHARMING CAPE COD Downtown Southern Pines $300,000 MLS# 156324 4 bdrm/2.5 bath

Unique detail & character throughout. Beautiful hardwoods, arched doorways, smooth ceilings, updated kitchen. Guest suite and unfinished basement. Easy to show. Call Kim for details.

Kim Stout • 910-528-2008 www.kimbeRLysTouT.com

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195 Short Street • Southern Pines, NC

s o u th w o r d s

Butterscotch Pie

By Bill Rose

My father

owned a restaurant and my mother baked all the pies that they served. Mom was a wonderful pie baker, and out of her wide selection of pies, butterscotch was my favorite. I rarely got to eat pie as the customers consumed them almost as fast as Mom made them. However, I remember how beautiful they looked in the display case waiting to be served.

Mom baked everything from scratch, and I can still see each golden piece of butterscotch pie sitting there with its crown of fluffy waves of meringue toasted to perfection. After I married, my wife, Eileen, began baking pies and became rather good at it. One Sunday my folks were coming to visit us and were bringing my sister and her new husband with them. Eileen decided to try her hand at making a butterscotch pie as I had hinted to that being my favorite. Considering the old gas stove she had to work with, it turned out pretty nice. After our guests had been there for a while it was time to serve the pie, and it turned out there was one piece left for me to eat after everyone left. Good idea, but my sister said my brother-in-law had never had butterscotch pie and could he have the last piece? Eileen, being a good hostess, gave him the last piece. We moved to Florida after I graduated from college and settled in a nice neighborhood of new homes all financed by the GI bill. We were all young professionals with kids and not much money. Our new homes were small

and the yards consisted of a few sprigs of grass; so all of us were constantly adding more sprigs to fill in the dirt. One of our neighbors, Marie, liked to work in her yard. All of the guys took note of this, and it seemed we timed our work to coincide with hers. She was very attractive and usually worked in nicely fitting green shorts. She had an unusual way of weeding in that she bent at the hips but never bent her knees. It’s funny how guys notice little details like that. In addition to being a good gardener, she baked butterscotch pies. We didn’t have air conditioning so the aroma permeated our backyards. On several occasions, our good neighbor, Marie, invited the guys, who happened to be working in their yards, to come over and have a piece of fresh baked pie. After this happened a few times, Eileen dropped in on our neighbor and asked if she would share her recipe. Our neighbor was flattered and wrote out her recipe in great detail and gave it to Eileen. A few days later, Eileen baked that pie, and that evening, after dinner, she surprised me with our neighbor’s butterscotch pie. The pie looked just like I remembered Mom’s, and I proceeded to wolf it down. Eileen waited for my comment and I said those fatal words, “Honey, it’s good, but not quite as good as Marie’s.” To make a long story short, for the last sixty years, the original recipe has been safely stored in Eileen’s desk, where it has never seen the light of day. It still rests in the silver and white box Marie had given it to her in. Needless to say, a butterscotch pie has never been baked in any of our subsequent fourteen homes. PS Bill Rose spent 55 years sending missiles into space. Fortunately, he now lives and writes essays in the Sandhills.

January 2014P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Illustration by Meridith Martens

A timeless recipe locked up for the ages

Purveyor, Buyer & APPrAiser of fine And estAte Jewellery 229 NE Broad StrEEt • SouthErN PiNES, NC • (910) 692-0551 • In-House RepaIRs Mother and daughter Leann and Whitney Parker WeLcoMe you as We ceLebrate our third year