January PineStraw 2010

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January 2010

DEPARTMENTS

Volume 5, No. 1 FEATURES

46 2010 Everyday Heroes

Five remarkable souls who make a big difference everyday

52 A Healing House

By Deborah Salomon

A loving restoration brings Kelly Plantation back to life

58 Wildflowers in Winter

By Noah Salt

Now is the time to plan your stunning summer wildflower meadow

COVER PHOTOGRAPH: TIM SAYER

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Sweet Tea Chronicles Jim Dodson PinePitch Cos and Effect Cos Barnes The Omnivorous Reader Stephen E. Smith Bookshelf Hitting Home Dale Nixon Vine Wisdom Robyn James The Art of Eating Mariah Fong Material World Claudia Watson Getaway Deborah Salomon Birdwatch Susan Campbell The Sporting Life Tom Bryant Golftown Journal Lee Pace SandhillSeen Calendar PineNeedler Mart Dickerson Thoughts From the Man Shed Geoff Cutler SouthWords Laura Feder

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PHOTOGRAPH JEANNE PAINE PineStraw : The ArtBY & Soul of the Sandhills



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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


PineStraw M A G A Z I N E Jim Dodson, Editor Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director Megan Shore, Graphic Designer EDITORIAL

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

Glenn Dickerson Erick Duplessis Jeanne Paine Tim Sayer Hannah Sharpe Glenn Sides CONTRIBUTORS

Tom Allen Cos Barnes Tom Bryant Susan Campbell Geoff Cutler Mart Dickerson Mariah C. Fong Kay Grismer Robyn James Pamela Powers January Matthew Moriarty Dale Nixon Lee Pace Angie Tally Ashley Wahl

David Woronoff, Publisher ADVERTISING SALES 910.693.2505

Pat Taylor, Advertising Director Ginny Kelly Patty Rea Bill Downey Terry Hartsell Marty Hefner Peggy Marsh Darlene McNeil-Smith Johnsie Tipton Karen Triplett ADVERTISING GRAPHIC DESIGN

Kathryn Galloway, B.J. Hill Mechelle Wood, Scott Yancey Darlene Stark, Circulation Director 910.693.2488

PineStraw Magazine 910.693.2467

145 W. Pennsylvania Avenue Southern Pines, NC 28387 pinestraw@thepilot.com www.pinestrawmag.com ©Copyright 2010. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. PineStraw magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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SWEET TEA CHRONICLES

The Bonfire On New Year’s Eve, everything but memories went up in smoke

BY JIM DODSON

A decade ago, a week or so before

the arrival of the year 2000, while on assignment for a national travel magazine, I happened to visit a place on the north island of New Zealand designated to be the first place on the planet to greet the new millennium.

Fear that the so-called Millennium Bug was going to devastate everything from personal computers to national security systems was at a fever pitch as clocks slowly counted down with trepidation to the new century. Yet here in this peaceful and fairly remote beach community that had the look and feel of a colonial British outpost drowsing through the last days of the Empire, members of the local golf club were organizing a First Eve golf tournament by torch light and a midnight seafood buffet. Even as New Millennium pilgrims of every stripe and persuasion were beginning to filter into town and fill up every boarding house, B&B and parking lot, the sense of pending celebration was palpable. I saw one bearded man wearing a T-shirt that read: “The End is near. That’s why I’m Here.” At one end of the beach, a faith community planned to conduct a Taize service of songs and sacred prayers as the new century emerged from pre-dawn darkness. At the opposite end of High Street a more free-spirited bunch announced plans to conduct a mass sunrise-welcoming party on the beach wearing only native Maori images of peace and love painted on their bodies – and little else. “You two should definitely stick around,” a local character who called himself “Papa Bug Juice” informed my photographer, MacDuff Everton, and me. “It’s going to be a hell of a party people will still be talking about a thousand years from now.” Until we had a taste of Papa’s locally famous bug juice, distilled from some kind of locally grown passion fruit and possibly filtered through aged Maori tribal tube socks, we were half tempted to stick around to catch the New Millennium come wading ashore.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

But MacDuff had to get back to his home in Santa Barbara, and I was determined to see the centuries change by a blazing bonfire on our snowy hilltop outside a small coastal village in Maine. For several years running, technically in violation of the village open burning codes, we held a large bonfire on New Year’s Eve and invited friends and family to drop by and have something to eat and drink. In an act of symbolic soul cleansing, most brought something meaningful to toss on the flames. A longtime friend joked it was our “Pagan Bonfire of the Vanities.” In the past friends had brought everything from old love letters to broken furniture to fuel the flames. We’d had every sort of legal document, divorce papers, old toys, teenage diaries, various unpublished manuscripts, dead houseplants, photos of former sweethearts, unbuilt house plans, even the odd college dissertation. As official keeper of the flames, it was my job not only to shovel out the snow around the sacred gathering spot and construct this friendly funeral pyre of lost dreams or objcts we wished to be free of, but also to tend the First Eve fire until the last dying ember went out. That was sometimes easier said than done. To begin with, I am an extremely early riser who typically turns in by nine o’clock most winter nights. Before we started the bonfire tradition I could just about count on one hand the times I’d actually stayed up to watch the ball drop in Times Square. During my first marriage, to my children’s mother, her family — real Scots — always tuned in the BBC to catch Big Ben striking midnight in the homeland. That happened conveniently at 7 p.m. EST, which meant I could toss off a quick dram of Scotch, kiss my wife and her Mum, and nip happily off to bed for a nice New Year’s sleep. New Year’s bonfiring had its logistical challenges. A snowstorm was both a headache and a treat. An unnaturally warm New Year’s rainstorm, however, not only glazed our hilltop with ice and made it all but impossible for any guests to negotiate our hill, but also made keeping a decent fire going virtually impossible. My favorite New Year nights were those clear and frigidly cold affairs with deep snow and a vast black sea of glittering stars overhead. This scenario also made my job of feeding a small family of deer that inhabited the woods around our house an easier task. By training them to eat at a spot by a stone wall at the back of our property, I had remarkable success keeping them out of my gardens the

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SWEET TEA CHRONICLES

rest of the year. We had a sort of pact by winter starlight. That’s exactly the kind of night we had one decade ago to note the passing from one century to the next, a gorgeous, frigid Arctic evening with only a passing flurry and a stunning view of the Milky Way. Given all the dire predictions, we decided to make it a pure family affair, complete with my second mother-in-law’s gift of oversized plastic party glasses done in the shape of the year 2000. One son brought his old footie pajamas to toss on the bonfire. Another made a “Top Secret” list of things he enigmatically “didn’t need any more,” placing it reverently on the flames. My 12 year old daughter, brought an old doll whose head kept falling off. Her brother burned up an old wooden airplane that had a broken wing. My new wife burned the wedding stuff from her first marriage. I tossed a couple of novels I’d written onto the flames, grateful to see them go up before anyone had a chance to read them. We ate homemade soup and a special millennial birthday cake, staying up way past midnight in our goofy glasses to watch the new century arrive at various locations around the world, including a tape of the first place that officially greeted the new century, a small beach town in New Zealand. That’s when I remembered I’d brought home a sample of Papa Bug Juice’s magical millennium brew. I fetched it, uncorked it, and took a small swig in a toast to the party animals on that faraway beach. The stuff hadn’t improved any with an additional week’s aging in the bottle. So I dumped it on the fire, too. When it appeared the newly hatched 21st century wouldn’t collapse into quaking ruin as so many sages and pundits feared it might, I shouldered a fifty-pound bag of sorghum pellets and waded through the knee-deep snow to the back of our property and spread out the feed in the shape of a heart in the snow. Silly, I know. But people do funny things on New Year’s Eve and deep winter nights, and the solemn creatures who inhabited our old forest were a remarkably respectful bunch. I always felt their eyes on me during these late-night feedings, and I often saw them afterward standing in the starlight, heads lifted, watching our house, keeping their part of the bargain, at grateful distance. Two years ago, shortly before we sold the property to an elderly couple from Massachusetts, I planted a dawn redwood

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


SWEET TEA CHRONICLES

tree on the spot of our annual New Year’s bonfire. Some believe the tree is the oldest tree species on earth. It was thought extinct until a plant hunter found a small one clinging to a ledge somewhere in northern China many years ago. I named the tree Eve for obvious reasons. Last year we had a lovely but quiet New Year’s Eve in Southern Pines. We walked downtown on a beautiful cold evening to watch the First Eve celebrations on Broad Street and then met friends for an early supper. I was home in bed by nine o’clock. This year, well, I don’t quite know what to do – or expect. Another decade is passing into the ether, capping off ten years of sweeping events few of us could have imagined that night back in 2000 – falling Trade towers, the election of our first black president, the largest economic crisis since the Great Depression. This year, I’m guessing, our New Year’s bonfire will be a rather modest affair in the living room fireplace after downtown’s First Eve celebration. I’m thinking I may make my own “Top Secret” list of “things I don’t need any more” and commit it to the flames. PS

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Business is Growing Beginning next spring, the new Sandhills Farm to Table Cooperative will provide fresh, local fruits and vegetables to its members. Instead of going to a farmers’ market, specific orders will be delivered weekly to a central location or, for a price, your home. Memberships will be available after Jan. 15. Details at www.SandhillsFarmtoTable.com.

Turtle Talk Writer, illustrator and educator Bob Palmatier will share years of observation and research on fascinating, slow-moving spotted turtles at the Sandhills Natural History Society Meeting at 7 p.m. on Jan. 25 at Weymouth Woods Auditorium in Southern Pines. Open to the public. Information: (910) 692-2167.

Popera Opera, Live in HD from the Met, continues to wow Sunrise audiences. “Der Rosenkavalier” will be shown live at 1 p.m. Jan. 9 with an encore performance a 6 p.m. Jan. 20. Seats are still available for the “Carmen” encore at 6 p.m. Jan. 27. All tickets: $20. Pop goes the music at the Sunrise Theater’s annual fundraiser, Raising the Roof 9 at 7:30 p.m. Jan. 23. Bands include Thundering Blues, Joe Frye, New Buffalo Thunder, Steve Menendez and the Lost Marbles, Randy Hughes Band, Hard Travelin’ with a special appearance by Sardine Queen Susan Jordan McNeill. Tickets: $25. Tickets and information on all events: www.sunrisetheater.com.

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Vivaciously Viennese The North Carolina Symphony will present “A Night in Old (and New) Vienna” at 8 p.m. on Jan. 28 at the Pinecrest High School auditorium in Southern Pines. Selections include the infectiously delightful overture to “Die Fledermaus” by Johann Strauss Jr., and works by Schoenberg and Shubert directed by William Henry Curry. Information: (877) 627-6724 or at www.ncsymphony.org.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


“Getting to Know …” Morgan Sills Vocalist Morgan Sills, who grew up in Southern Pines, returns to Weymouth Center at 7 p.m. on Jan. 30 to sing the unforgettable lyrics of Oscar Hammerstein, including songs from “Oklahoma,” “Carousel” and “The King and I.” Sills has toured with “Forever Plaid’ and appeared with a choral group on the Letterman show. Tickets: $30 for the 2 p.m. matinee, $45 for members of Weymouth and $55 for non-members for the 7 p.m. evening performance (followed by a reception). Information: (910) 692-6261.

First Art A new decade of art opens on Jan. 8 at Campbell House Galleries in Southern Pines with an exhibit of watercolors and acrylics by Karen Schnell-Chisholm, of Miami, daughter of Jan Schnell, of Pinehurst. SchnellChisholm’s works have been described as representing a transcription of her heart and mind into the hieroglyphics of visual imagery. The exhibit runs until Jan. 29. Opening reception from 6-8 p.m. Jan. 8. Information: (910) 692-2787.

Tea-Totaler

Winter Song Summer has gone on a vacation To the other side of the world Trees dance naked in the cold wind Around the modest pines The silvery moon Reflects crisp light As winter’s Song plays On. — Sonia Williamson

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

No more two martini lunches. Lady Bedford’s Tea Parlour in Pinehurst believes business can be successfully conducted over a genteel cuppa. At 2:30 p.m. on Jan. 19 the tea room will host Business Tea & Etiquette, part of a series. Instructor Helen Von Salgen bases her lessons on tea and etiquette expert Dorothea Johnson. Tab: $25, which includes tea, food, tip, lecture and a favor. Reservations: (910) 255-0100. Information: www.ladybedfords.com.

Mary, Queen of Scots Scottish immigrants settled Moore, Scotland and Richmond Counties in the 1700s, leaving a rich heritage of history and folklore. Scholar/lecturer Mary Wayne Watson will speak on “The Sandhills: The Comfort of Tradition and Ritual” at 2 p.m. Jan. 24 at the First Baptist Church in Southern Pines. Watson has written about her great-uncle John Charles McNeill, a Sandhills poet and legislator. The event is free. ..............................................................................................................................

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Tour de Force

Seeing is Believing The Artists’ League of the Sandhills will host Instructors Demo Day and Reception from 2 to 5 p.m. on Jan. 10 at Exchange Street Gallery in Aberdeen. Meet instructors, view their work (on display until Jan. 29) and sign up for classes. Information: (910) 944-3979.

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Dance Fever The buzz has reached a climax. At 6 p.m. on Jan 9 at Pine Needles Hospitality Center, a cocktail party (followed by dinner at 7 p.m.) will initiate the local version of Dancing With the Stars, an event to benefit Communities in Schools and Moore Buddies mentoring programs. After dinner, a dance exhibition will feature local notables Dr. Susan Purser, Maureen Kruger, Sen. Harris Blake and others. Emcee Jim Dodson will keep the tempo high. All-inclusive tickets: $125. Information: www.sandhillsstars.com.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Hannah Sharpe

Veteran guide Marva Kirk of Kirk Tours will conduct a tour of Seagrove potters from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. on Jan. 29, with a stop for lunch at Westmore Restaurant. Demonstrations include throwing and raku. Tour: $35. Information: (910) 2952257 or www.kirktours.com.


PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


COS AND EFFECT

Twilight From my moving car, I have watched the friendship grow. For months they have walked together, meeting at the mailbox at 4:15. Each afternoon as I return from some pursuit, I see them on Hill Road. John and Ed, and Ed's dog, Emma, a mixture of Lab Retriever and Corgi. They walk slowly - actually it is more of an amble — deep in conversation, Each intent on hearing what the other says. They tell me they discuss everything: health, religion, politics, past experiences, life. They are of an age, both in their mid-seventies. Both retired, one spent his career here, the other traveled all over the United States. One is a minister, a North Carolinian by birth, The other a Texan, an engineer who manned large equipment. John always wears a hat — except when he has a new haircut he wants to show off to Ed. A big black cigar is always clamped tightly in Ed's mouth. I have never gotten close enough to tell whether it is lit or not. They walk for thirty minutes, prodding each other to remember his health. As good neighbors do, they became acquainted by picking up the other’s mail and packages. Now in their twilight years, they remind me of two youngsters getting acquainted at camp or school. I envy the therapeutic effect they have on each other. Everybody needs a best friend.

- COS BARNES PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


T H E O M N I VO R O U S R E A D E R

Master’s Class

A former poet laureate struts his short fiction genius

BY STEPHEN E. SMITH

I’d like to claim that I

read Fred Chappell’s latest book of short stories, Ancestors and Others: New and Selected Stories, and that I wrote a concise, objective review that acknowledges Fred’s remarkable talent and his consummate skill as a fiction writer.

I’d like to claim that, but I can’t. I have read the new collection, but I’m simply incapable of writing about Fred’s work — his poetry, criticism, fiction, whatever — without experiencing a tangle of emotions that make it difficult to maintain a judicious perspective. For those of you unfamiliar with Fred Chappell’s distinguished writing career, he’s the state’s former poet laureate, the author of more than twenty-five books in various genres, the winner of Yale’s Bollingen Prize in Poetry (a very big deal in the poetry world), the Award in Literature from the National Institute of Arts and Letters, the Best Foreign Book Prize from the Académie Française, the Sir Walter Raleigh Prize, and the North Carolina Award for Literature. Whew! More importantly, for me at least, Fred was, in the deep, dark permanent past, my teacher in the MFA writing program at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro during the academic years 1969 through 1971. And as I was reading the twenty-one stories gathered in Ancestors, I couldn’t help but recall those distant autumn evenings I trudged down the hallway on the second floor of the McIver Building on the UNCG campus. I’d been a history/social science major as an undergraduate and had wangled admittance to the writing program on the very slight heft of a couple of published stories. The majority of my fellow students had graduated from universities where they’d been English and writing majors. Lordy, I was scared witless. Which is good, because I’m convinced I remember almost every PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

word Fred said in class. A little fear keens up the senses. So I can hear Fred reading the stories in his new collection, although most of them weren’t written when I was his student. My ears are attuned to his distinct voice, the slow, flat, precise syllables, the measured coaxing of the words from the printed page. When reading student work, Fred had an irritating habit of emphasizing paragraphs he found poorly written, and on occasion he’d let slide a contorted chuckle that signified disapproval. There were no such theatrics in my reading of Ancestors; Fred takes his own best advice when it comes to writing great fiction. The first and last stories, “The Overspill” and “January,” both of which are set in small mill towns that are probably based on Fred’s hometown of Canton, NC, frame this eclectic collection. In the first story, a father and son construct a small bridge on their property only to see their work violently washed away when the mill opens its upstream spillways: “As the sound got louder, it discomposed into many sounds: lappings, bubblings, rippings, undersucks, and slashovers. Almost as soon as we saw the gray-brown thrust of water emerge from beneath the overhanging plum trees, we felt the tremor as it slammed against the culvert, leaping up the shoulder and rolling back.” And in “January,” the first-person narrator tells of leading his three-year-old sister through a mountain night so cold he fears she might freeze to death. Safely at home, he stares out the window in a cinematic conclusion reminiscent of Joyce’s “The Dead”: “A dim spot emerged from the windowpane as I breathed, and as I stood there it got larger and larger, like a gray flower unfolding, until it obscured the total moon.” In between these stories, readers will discover a little something for every literary preference. Among my favorites is “Three Boxes,” an unapologetic parable about three nameless men lost in time and space who encounter mysterious boxes on the far side of a treacherous river. Fred plays it straight, and the parable never drifts into humor or parody, as too often happens with parabolic fiction written by lesser writers who pretend to respect the form (it was Ole Fred who taught this lesson). The

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story’s conclusion is left slightly openended: “For he knew that although his comrades had no gift for him, he could give one to them. He was carrying to them the gift of justice, the one thing in the whole world worth knowing that can be learned in the world, and is not divinely revealed.” “Moments of Light,” “Ladies from Lapland,” and “Linnaeus Forgets” are written with a Jamesian/Darwinistic conciseness — dry, laconic prose that somehow strikes a balance between poetry and objective description. “Ember,” “Mankind Journeys Through Forests of Symbols,” and “Alma” are science fiction/fantasy stories that will remind astute readers of the work of pulp writers in the ‘30s and ‘40s. Fred, in fact, acknowledges these writers, especially H.P. Lovecraft and Manly Wade Wellman, in his poem “Weird Tales” from his 1971 World Between the Eyes — and their influence is apparent throughout the collection. In “Judas,” Fred appropriates the persona of Christ’s betrayer: “His [Jesus’] kind of madness is contagious.” And “Broken Blossoms” is the story of a boy’s stamp-collecting obsession and his accidental journey from childhood to rebirth and disillusion: “And in this moment that someone who is myself is born, someone also dies. From this instant I date my awkward tumble into the world and here now I remain, alert and unready.” And as always, Fred’s eye for precise description is everywhere in evidence, as with this sweet touch of detail describing a dead friend’s mannerisms in “Duet”: “Caney bent over his reel, cussing a backlash… Caney showing off a brand-new hunting jacket he’d saved up for forever… Not drawn-out, put-together thoughts, but little bright pictures. Like when he dipped his finger in a bucket of honey we’d brought from a bee tree and held it out for his little girl, Aline, to lick, stretched up on her tiptoes.” Ah, Fred…. I’ve always been glad I braved those walks down the hallway in the McIver Building. Each time I turned the corner into Fred Chappell’s class, my life changed forever — and for the better. My lack of objectivity notwithstanding, I’m certain readers of Ancestors and Others will find themselves experiencing a similar passage. PS Stephen E. Smith is a regular contributor to PineStraw. Contact him at travisses@hotmail.com.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


BOOKSHELF

New Releases for January

BY KAY GRISMER AND ANGIE TALLY FOR THE COUNTRY BOOKSHOP FICTION – HARDCOVER BENEATH THE LION’S GAZE by Maaza Mengiste. Set in Addis Ababa, Ehtiopia, 1974, on the eve of a revolution, Mengiste’s novel tells the story of a father and two sons, of betrayals and loyalties, and of a family unraveling in the wake of Ethiopia’s revolution. REMARKABLE CREATURES by Tracy Chevalier. In her new historical novel set on the English coast, a young woman who was struck by lightning as a baby realizes she has “the eye” to find what no one else can see. When she uncovers an unusual fossilized skeleton, she sets the religious fathers on edge, the townspeople to vicious gossip, and the scientific world alight. SAVING CEECEE HONEYCUTT by Beth Hoffman. After her psychotic mother is hit by a truck and killed, 12-year-old CeeCee is rescued by her great-aunt Tootie and whisked off in her vintage Packard convertible to Savannah’s perfumed world of prosperity and Southern eccentricity in Hoffman’s charming debut novel.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

SUMMERTIME by J. M. Coetzee. In his inventive work of fiction the Nobel Prizewinning author of DISGRACE imagines his own life through the eyes of a biographer researching a book about “the late South African writer John Coetzee” during a time, he is convinced, when Coetzee was finding himself as a writer. SWAN THIEVES by Elizabeth Kostova. When a renowned painter attacks a canvas in the National Gallery of Art, psychiatrist Andrew Marlowe tries to understand the secret that torments the genius. FICTION – PAPERBACK LITTLE GIANT OF ABERDEEN COUNTY by Tiffany Baker. A young girl who grew to epic proportions uncovers a local witch’s legendary spell book. Armed with this dangerous knowledge, she must face her own larger-than-life demons. THE SWEETNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PIE by Alan Bradley. In the summer of 1950, at the once-grand mansion of Buckshaw, an aspiring young chemist with a passion for poison, is intrigued by a series of inexplicable events. When she finds a man

lying in the cucumber patch and watches him take his dying breath, life begins in earnest. THE WETTEST COUNTY IN THE WORLD by Matt Bondurant. Bondurant weaves a compelling tale of violence, desperation, and greed, as three brothers run moonshine in Franklin County, VA during prohibition, in a story based on the exploits of the author’s grandfather and two uncles. NON-FICTION – HARDCOVER AMERICANS IN PARIS by Charles Glass. Glass’s tales of adventure, intrigue, passion, deceit, and survival chronicles some of the stories of the 5,000 American expatriates living in Nazi Paris during France’s dangerous occupation years from 1940 to 1944. NON-FICTON – PAPERBACK HOW TO LIVE: A Search for Wisdom from Old People (While They Are Still on This Earth) by Henry Alford. Armed with medical evidence that supports the cliche that older people are wiser, Alford inter-

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BOOKSHELF

views people over 70—some famous, some accomplished, some unusual—to show that life after 70 is the fulfillment of, not the end to, life’s questions and trials. HOW TO SAVE YOUR OWN LIFE: 15 Lessons on Finding Hope in Unexpected Places by Michael Gates Gil. The author of HOW STARBUCKS SAVED MY LIFE returns with lessons offering hope for anyone facing a reversal of fortune. THE LOST CITY OF Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon by David Grann. After stumbling on a hidden trove of diaries, Grann set out to solve the mystery of what happened in 1925 when the British explorer Percy Fawcett, his son, and their expedition ventured into the Amazon to find the glittering kingdom of El Dorado— and then vanished. PICKING COTTON: Our Memoir of Injustice and Redemption by Jennifer Thompson-Cannino and Ronald Cotton. After being raped, Thompson identified Ronald Cotton as her attacker. He was sentenced to life in prison. After 11 years, a

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DNA test proved his innocence. The two authors, who live in North Carolina and are now friends, challenge our ideas of memory and judgment while demonstrating the profound healing power of forgiveness. SCRATCH BEGINNINGS: Me, $25, and the Search for the American Dream by Adam Shepard. In 2006, eager to see if he could make something out of nothing, Shepard set out see if the American Dream can still be a reality. He moved into a homeless shelter in Charlestown, SC, with $25 in his pocket, and six months later had a job, an apartment, and a truck. CHILDREN’S BOOKS Everyday Heroes come hidden behind many faces. Sometimes we see them and recognize them; other times, they stay quietly hidden in the background. Here are two suggestions for young readers: CLAUDETTE COLVIN: Twice Toward Justice by Phillip Hoose. Winner of the 2009 National Book Award for Young

People’s Literature. In 1955 Claudette Colvin was a 15-year-old African-American girl living in Montgomery, Alabama who refused to give up her seat on a bus to a white passenger. She was arrested and left with a police record. Later that same year, when Rosa Parks sparked the famous bus boycott, Colvin agreed to be named as a plaintiff in the court case that eventually integrated Montgomery’s buses. Colvin’s story, however, has largely been lost to history until now. Readers age 10-14 will enjoy reading this story of an important, yet little known civil rights leader. 109 FORGOTTEN AMERICAN HEROES: by Chris Ying. In this collection are amazing stories of the contributions, inventions, wisdom, savvy and courage of 109 great Americans including Charles F. Brannock, who invented the first tool to accurately measure foot size; Richard Drew, who developed the world’s first transparent tape; Garret Augustus Morgan, creator of the traffic signal and 106 more fascinating Americans. Ages 9-12. PS

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


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HITTING HOME

The Sickening Truth What fun is having the flu if you can’t share it, hon?

BY DALE NIXON

Many others

write much better than I do, but I know each month when I turn in my column that it’s the best I can do. I stress over this column as if it were to appear in the pages of The New York Times.

I make every effort to organize my thoughts in hopes my thoughts will make sense to you. Webster’s Dictionary and Roget’s Thesaurus are always by my side. (Yes, I like real books.) The “F7” key on the computer is my best friend. But I’m going to have to be honest with you about this month’s column: I just don’t care. My ambivalence comes from the fact that I have “it.” Bobby got “it” first and then gave “it” to me. “It” is either the flu or a virus. Call it anything you want, but it is vile, and it won’t go away. The symptoms hit us the week before Christmas: chills, fever, achy joints and muscles, scratchy throat, headache, congestion and a hacking cough. As if those symptoms weren’t bad enough, we were also afflicted with the fact that we couldn’t stay vertical. We could only take 10 to 15 steps, and then we’d have to lie down (on the floor, across a table or curled up in a corner of the bathroom) before we could attempt to walk again. Perhaps we should have called a doctor, but I am ashamed to say that Bobby and I like to self-diagnose and self-medicate. Worse than that, we share each other’s medicines. We were so sick and so out of it that at some point in the last few weeks, I think I was taking Bobby’s gout medication and he was wearing one of my estrogen patches that had expired about ten years ago. When our daughter, Hollis, called to check on us, she was so alarmed at the sound of our hacking coughs that she insisted on bringing over her cough syrup with codeine that she said would “fix us right up.”

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Bobby and I took turns swigging straight from the cough syrup bottle off and on all day. Our coughs subsided, but by nightfall, we were sick and silly. The cough syrup had definitely “fixed us right up.” I stumbled around the house giggling, and repeating over and over, “This is the Nixons on drugs.” We made it through Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We wanted to call the whole thing off, but when you have family and friends and Jesus’ birthday involved, you just have to follow through. Some friends invited us to visit them in Orlando after the holidays. We rallied a bit for that. But everybody on the plane and in the entire state of Florida was sick. There was coughing, sneezing, wheezing and the blowing of noses simultaneously with hugging, kissing and the shaking of hands. Germs. Germs. Germs everywhere. While waiting to board the plane to come home, I asked Bobby whether it would embarrass him if I took a little nap on the airport floor. He pleaded with me to stay vertical. Vertical. There was that word. I knew if I couldn’t stay vertical, I had “it” again. So here I am at deadline, with chills, fever, achy joints and muscles, scratchy throat, headache, congestion and a hacking cough. My head feels as if it has been stuffed with cotton, and my thoughts are not even making sense to me. I’m not pulling out the dictionary or the thesaurus, and I’m too weak to punch the “F7” key. It makes me wonder about the Anna Quindlens of the world, who write columns for The New York Times. How do you think they would handle a deadline if they had the flu or a virus? I guess like the rest of us, they would just do the best they could do. PS Columnist Dale Nixon resides in Concord but enjoys a slice of heaven (disguised as a condominium) in the village of Pinehurst. You may contact her by e-mail at dalenixon@carolina.rr.com.

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DINING GUIDE

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VINE WISDOM

Time For Wine Resolutions A few New Year thoughts

BY ROBYN JAMES

Okay, so New Year’s Wine Resolutions may

seem trivial to you, but not to my obviously biased self. After all, something has got to come behind World Peace and Regular Exercise. Wine consumption is good for you and if you so choose, it can be a fascinating area of interest. Here are some basic guidelines for you to consider during the New Year.

Try a grape varietal you’ve never tried before. I have a couple of customers who do this and track their progress online with a Web Site that catalogs the varieties they have tried. They have so much fun with this! There are more than 10,000 grape varieties in the world, so even experimenting once a month or every couple of weeks could be entertaining for years. Next time you visit your wine shop, ask for a nice Jacquere, Rousanne or Cannanou. You’re in for a pleasant surprise! Vow not to buy a bottle of wine because the animal on the label is cute. Mass marketing companies are insulting your intelligence, thinking they can win you over with elementary cutesy pictures since you haven’t a clue about what’s in the bottle. Get to know your local wine merchant. Visit your local independently owned bottle shop, where you’ll enjoy personalized advice from someone who really cares about catering to your taste…even if you aren’t sure what you may have a taste for. Screw it and accept the Stelvin closure. Here are the facts. There are tons of faulty defective corks stuck in expensive bottles right now. Cork trees cannot effectively regenerate fast enough to keep up with the demand. Contrary to popular belief, it is more expensive for wineries to produce screw caps for their bottles than to buy corks. Ask the Gordon Getty family, introducing screw caps on their cult Napa Valley Plumpjack Reserve Cabernet at about $150 per bottle. PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Lose your pink prejudice. Europeans have no idea what white zinfandel is; totally an American invention and contradiction of terms. (How can it be pink and called white?) They are blissfully ignorant of our low alcohol, cheap, insipidly sweet pink offering. Europeans pride themselves on their bracing dry, balanced, quality rosé wines, quaffed in every sidewalk café and carefully crafted in Provence, Rioja and Tuscany. Domaine Tempier Bandol Rosé, from the tony French Riviera, is a pink epiphany. Forsake distilled liquor. Sorry, but there are no health benefits whatsoever for distilled liquor consumption. Liquor dulls your tastebuds so you can’t fully appreciate your food, and the alcohol content is so high, you can only absorb small amounts. Mix it with juices or sodas and you have a high calorie sugar headache in the making. When it comes to liquor versus wine, you can’t touch this. Learn to use a “waiter’s tool.” This corkscrew is aptly named. Professional waiters who open hundreds of bottles in restaurants each year always use only this tool. It is truly easy to master, compact and foolproof for opening even the most finicky bottles of wine. They are inexpensive enough so you can permanently hide one in the pocket of your suitcase. Give the gift of wine. This versatile gift, combined with your enthusiasm, can fit any occasion. Whether celebrating an anniversary, promotion or birthday, wine works it. Enjoy the selection process and watch your friends enjoy the consumption process. Include a small note describing the wine and its food match-ups. Talk about wine with your children and grandchildren. Yes, talk openly and frequently about the pleasure of great wine and food. The earlier your kids understand the experience of wine, the greater chance they have of appreciating it themselves. PS Robyn James is proprietor of The Wine Cellar and Tasting Room in Southern Pines. Contact her at winecellar@pinehurst.net.

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DINING GUIDE


T H E A RT O F E AT I N G

All in the Family A pair of enterprising cousins bring the taste of Albania home BY MARIAH FONG

Photograph By Hannah Sharpe

In my book, a new year means

it’s time for new ideas and exciting new tastes.

Enter Dorjan Arsi — also known as Harry — and his enterprising cousin, Gent Kumi, creators of Epiri Foods. Epiri Foods is a delicious new line of traditional Greek and Albanian soups and dips made right here on New Hampshire Avenue, in Southern Pines. Harry’s parents, Thomas and Najarta Arsi, own Corfu restaurant. Over the past dozen years, their loyal customer base came to appreciate the restaurant’s warm Mediterranean hospitality and Thomas’ flavorful cooking so much that many patrons began bringing in their own quart containers to fill with hummus and soup. From this phenomenon sprung Epiri Foods. Mark Horney, general manager of The Fresh Market is also a regular patron of Corfu who strongly encouraged the cousins to make their oustanding soups and dips “portable.” Harry and Gent began by simply writing down family recipes. Some recipes are favorites that came directly from home, while others were developed from Harry’s experiences following his father around the kitchen and recording each step as he cooked. These days, when customers leave and the doors are locked, Harry and Gent begin experimenting and testing their own creative recipes. Customer response has been so keen that they are in the process of building a new kitchen specifically for their wholesale production. Epiri is a region of Southeastern Europe that lies between Albania and northern Greece, bordering the Mediterranean Sea. It is a land rich in food culture with a hint of Italian influence. Harry and his family cook in this similar manner of fusion cuisine, using pure and simple ingredients from both countries. The Epiri line consists of five products with a sixth on the way. The artisanal soups include white bean (a very traditional Albanian recipe), a Greek lemon-chicken, plus a wonderful Albanian tomato basil — a Corfu classic. The dips are: hummus — which Thomas makes in the same manner as back home and is like no other hummus in the world, (delicious!) Tzatziki — a traditional Greek dip made primarily of yogurt and cucumbers; and the sixth is Gent’s Gourmet Grub — which is still in the making. Espri’s product line is handsomely packaged with a distinctive black lid, and is currently available at all The Fresh Market outlets, Whole Foods in Raleigh and Cary as well as Weaver St. Markets in

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Chapel hill, Carrboro and Hillsborough. Harry also does product “samplings” at The Fresh Market many Friday and Saturday mornings. Their fine soups are also served at two leading local retirement communities, Quail Haven and St. Joseph’s of the Pines. Chef Jack Hill of St. Joseph’s says, “The residents want fresh soups that are free of salt and are better for you than what is commercially available.” “These communities are always so happy to see me arrive with soup,” says Harry with a smile. The cousins, he notes, are hoping to attract more retirement communities to their fan base because the demand for delicious homemade soup is high. Meanwhie, Gent’s latest kitchen creation is called Gent’s Gourmet Grub, a versatile Albanian dip that can be used for chips but also doubles wonderfully as a marinade for wings and even barbecued meats. The youthful and passionate creators of Espiri believe staying true to their Mediterranean cooking heritage and making a strong commitment to using only the highest quality all-natural ingredients that reflect their culture is a critical component to their current success and future prospects. “This is how we learned to cook when we were young,” says Genti. “Cooking was not something you learned in school but something connected to home and family.” He notes, for example, that only extra virgin olive oil is used in recipes along with fresh meats and vegetables and never artificial flavors or sweetners of any kind. “We are living the American dream,” adds Harry. “We are taking the tastes from our country and sharing it with others.” As a longtime fan of Corfu, I’m excited to see what else these engaging cousins come up with. Where they come from, to borrow a popular marketing phrase, everyone really seems to be considered family. Mariah Fong is a new mama and PineStraw’s local foodie.

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Discover Fayetteville’s Olde Haymount District


Experience Historic Downtown Fayetteville


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M AT E R I A L WO R L D.

Beautiful Bag Ladies BY CLAUDIA WATSON

Beware the

stalker: She is after your hound’s-tooth blazer or tweed coat for, of all things, a handbag.

“At this time of year, when the vintage wools come out, I find myself sizing up blazers or skirts to determine whether I can get a handbag out of it,” says Faith McArthur, the bag lady of Pinehurst. Neither Faith nor her sister Susan Dull, founders of the Denny & O’Hurley label, has ever propositioned a wearer. But, Faith admits, the temptation exists. Otherwise, they prowl stores like Not Just Linens for upholstery and drapery fabrics and embellishments, especially their trademark tassels. Faith’s in-home studio is filled with trunks of assorted fabrics, mostly vintage, from which she artfully creates affordable, lightweight, well-sized and unique handbags. Faith believes her textile adoration was induced by … a sheik. This sheik was woven into a mysterious Moroccan rug her uncle brought back from World War II. The Rug, as the family called it, hung on her grandmother’s farmhouse wall in Jackson Springs. She and Susan would look up at the Rug from the daybed — and daydream about a sheik on horseback, whisking a woman away under the starry midnight sky. Was it a kidnap, or were they eloping? the girls wondered. Faith loved the “feel” of the rug. “I fell in love with that rug, the rich, velvety texture and changing colors. It was magical.” Her love affair with fabric blossomed. Working with fabric is in Faith’s genes. Her mother and grandmother were seamstresses; the girls helped. They would sit PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

among those trunks deciding on the prettiest side to use on a pillow or to recover a chair. They remade prom dresses, embellished Christmas frocks during an era when panache was appreciated. Faith recalls an embroidered Lederhosen-style skirt which friends called “awesome.” Later, she made household items and clothes for her son Daniel. Several years ago a cousin suggested that she enter her handbags in the Pinehurst Holly Arts and Crafts Show. She complied, with great success. “We were overrun,” Faith says. They sold out immediately. A business was born. Faith and Susan’s product line optimizes materials and their design skills. They work with other manufacturers to produce leather handbags under the Denny & O’Hurley label — although the sisters still prefer fabrics from the trunks in their studio. In three years, Faith and Susan have made 500 handbags. Susan sews the straps and lining besides keeping the books. Faith assembles the product. She scours consignment and antique shops for items to integrate into the bags. “Some handbags happen quickly; some take months to come together,” Faith says. “The passion for me is the hunt.” PS Claudia Watson lives in Pinehurst and is a frequent contributor to The Pilot.

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G E TAWAY

Ah, Durham

A former Duke co-ed returns to the American Tobacco District and finds a little magic

BY DEBORAH SALOMON

On a foggy winter evening,

the Durham Performing Arts Center resembles a rectangular igloo, lit from within. Its glass walls contribute to the stunning hodgepodge that is The American Tobacco District — centuryold brick warehouses and public buildings, a contrived waterway, train station, offices, galleries, shops, bars, museums and Durham Bulls Athletic Park with the Lucky Strike smokestack looming over all, like a crematorium.

Ah, Durham. Fifty years ago, we Duke co-eds strolled down Main Street, from East Campus past the cigarette factories to the bookstore at Five Points. Even on breezy days you could strike a match…and inhale. Fitting, then, that a palace of the arts should rise from a burned-out industry. Since moving back to North Carolina I’ve heard good things about DPAC (DeePack, open for a year) and the shows it has attracted. This is better-than-Broadway, venue-wise at least. What a place to experience the SunTrust Broadway Series, “Phantom of the Opera.” I’ve already done “Phantom” twice. The music, even a few bars on a promo, sends chills up my spine, then crashing down with the chandelier. What the heck, I’ll go, mostly to evaluate the hall for future events. Coming soon: “Hairspray,” “The Color Purple,” Tony award-winning “Spring Awakening,” “Wicked,” “Beauty and the Beast,” Vince Gill, The Moody Blues and, if you’ve recovered from Meryl Streep’s version, “Mamma Mia!” For sure, this is big time — the largest performing arts center in North or South Carolina — built with big money: $48 million. Tall, welcoming doormen wear red coats, top hats and white gloves. Greeters are everywhere: “Enjoy the show,” beforehand, “Hope you enjoyed the show,” afterward.

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I arrived an hour early to people-watch. The soaring lobby resembles an airport – gleaming metal, glass and stone. Nobody builds baroque opera houses any more. Offerings at the Broadway Bar ran from Chick-fil-A to wraps, Starbucks to merlot. Quite a few theater-goers came for lunch. Some even “dressed.” Despite the rain and matinee hour I saw strappy silver sandals, even a glimpse of velvet. Also sequined jeans with stiletto heels but not a single suit and tie. One attention-starved bloke showed up in a black cape and fedora. “The house is open!” boomed the sound system as curtain time neared. Believing the statement that “no seat is more than 135 feet from the stage” I had opted for the balcony, at $32. Perhaps they meant 135 yards because the action seemed straight down and miles away—not important for a big, loud musical or a concert. I’d go no higher than mezzanine for a one-man show. No matter where you sit the 2,800-seat auditorium is magnificent: clean lines, crisp sound, rich red carpet and upholstery. Although food and drink are “welcomed at seats” I didn’t see any cupholders. Maybe in the high-rent district. DeePack is equipped to handle almost anything Broadway sends afield. For some reason, however, well into its second decade this production of “Phantom” seemed a bit watered down; chandelier pyrotechnics were less spectacular and the singers kept outpacing the orchestra. But the thrill was there. I’d go back in a Pall Mall minute. For anything except “Mamma Mia!” Afterward, I walked the “campus,” as the district is called, with Durham’s artsy young people — all headed for Cuban Revolution, an arena-sized outpost of the Providence, R.I. resto/bar where political discussion, dissident or otherwise, is encouraged. Food, drink, music and décor are hot, hot Latin. I didn’t hear much Spanish but I did spot a few Democrats. Ah, Durham. These days, you’re so much more than basketball games and college reunions. For information on upcoming events at Durham Performing Arts Center, go to www.DPACnc.com

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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January 2010 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


Cedar Waxwing

B I R DWAT C H

This distinctive bird thrives on the berries of Sandhills winter

BY SUSAN CAMPBELL

Now is the time

that many Sandhills residents look forward to: the holly berries are ripe and large flocks of cedar waxwings are appearing to take advantage of nature’s bounty. Waxwings are sleek, brown birds that sport a black mask, yellowish belly and tail tip. Although both males and females have a crest of tan feathers, it is rarely raised during the non-breeding season. These birds get their name from the bright red, waxy spots on their wing feathers. The waxwing’s high pitched whistle is also very distinctive. The Bohemian waxwing, a close relative, is a larger, grayer bird much farther to the north and west in North America. So far, no individual of this species has been documented in our state.

During the warmer months, cedar waxwings can be found in northerly latitudes breeding in a variety of moist habitats. A pair will seek out a sizeable conifer and the female will build a nest of soft material in which to lay her eggs. Three to five young will be produced and, not long after they fledge, the family will join other waxwings even before fall migration begins. The species is very social most of the year. In winter it is not unusual for flocks to number in the hundreds. Cedar waxwings are unusual in that they can subsist for months at a time on berries. Although they do feed on insects in the summertime, they have no trouble consuming only fruit when the weather gets cold. They swallow whatever small PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

berries they can find: seeds and all. This can be problematic in late winter when the sweet morsels ferment. Waxwings are at risk of being picked off by predators or being injured if they hit a window while intoxicated. These handsome birds surprise people when they take advantage of bird baths. If you are fortunate enough to experience cedar waxwings descending en masse, it is quite a spectacle. Of course, they can drain a water source in no time if they have been feeding heavily nearby. Also, it is important to be aware that when waxwings come close to buildings to eat or drink, they are very susceptible to colliding with windows. If they are startled, they may make a fatal error by flying into the reflection of the sky on the glass. And, of course, if they are at all drunk, it is even more likely. To prevent this, break up window reflection with sun catchers, stickers, hanging plants and the like. The best approach is to hang things on the outside of the window — but this may not always be practical. If you want to attract cedar waxwings to your yard, in addition to a water source, add more native fruiting trees and shrubs for them. You could consider any one of a variety of hollies, or try adding cedar, juniper, serviceberry or wax myrtle. Do not forget that, like all of our wintering birds, waxwings need thick cover while they are here. Many of the berry-producing species are of course valuable for cover as well, but Southern magnolia (many in the bay family, in fact), Leyland cypress, or even red tips may prove beneficial. PS Susan would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photos. She can be contacted by e-mail at ncaves@embarqmail.com, by phone at (910) 9493207, or by mail at 144 Pine Ridge Drive, Whispering Pines, NC 28327. For more information about waxwings go to: http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Cedar_Waxwing/id For information on preventing bird window strikes go to: http://www.sialis.org/windowstrikes.htm

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T H E S P O RT I N G L I F E

Maggie, We’ll Miss You The wild cat that captured our hearts

BY TOM BRYANT

Most of my hunting partners of the last

fifty years will tell you that I’m a dog man. Not just a dog man, but a yellow Labrador retriever, duck-hunting dog man. There have been very few years of my life when I didn’t have a loyal canine companion, beginning in the second grade when my dad surprised me with a Curly Coated Retriever that I named Smut.

Smut was a member of the family until he passed away at the ripe old age of fourteen. I was in college when he left us, and that led to my longest period without a dog until Paddle came along. Paddle was a yellow Lab with intelligence that amazed my hunting partners and me. There were some things that she accomplished in the field that someday I hope to write a book about, but this isn’t a story about Paddle. A couple years later, Mackie came to live with us. A yellow Lab hailing from southern Georgia, she fit right in with my family, and we wandered the woods and rivers for another fourteen years until she left me to my own pursuits. That was three years ago, and I still haven’t made the effort to find just the right hunting partner to usher in my final years afield. I will, though. When the timing is right, I know there will be just the right little yellow Lab puppy waiting out there to amaze me again with her loyalty and ability. But this isn’t a story about a dog. Believe it or not, it’s about a cat. A little calico ragamuffin thrown-away kind of cat that we inherited when we moved to Southern Pines thirteen years ago. Her name was Maggie, and I buried her this morning before the remnants of hurricane Ida dumped tons of rain on us. Now, I’m not a cat person, never have been, although I’ve

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

always been around cats. I remember the cats on my grandfather’s farm. They were my grandmother’s, and there were always several around the premises. They even seemed to have specific duties. There were just regular yard cats, house cats, and barn cats required to keep the barn free of mice and other vermin. For their reward, they were fed all the milk they could drink and table scraps that the dogs didn’t get. Grandmother kept two pans on the corner of the big wood cook stove, one for the bread she baked for the dogs and another for her cats. I remember the cats had names, and there always seemed to be a new litter of kittens roaming around all the time. These were working cats during a time in the South when animals pulled their weight. Linda, my bride of forty plus years, is a cat person and, like me with my dogs, she has had feline companions her entire life. The day we moved into our home in Southern Pines, Linda got a call from the former owners. I was outside hauling boxes from here to yonder looking forward to a break from all of the moving hassle. “Hey Tom,” she called from the back porch. “The Samuels just phoned. They left one of their cats.” “They what?” “Yeah, it seems that one of their cats is real skittish and almost man-shy. The moving people scared her, and they want us to try and catch her and they’ll pick her up when they come back to Southern Pines next week.” Yeah, right, I thought. We’ve got ourselves a cat. And try to catch her we did. Mr. Borrelli, our neighbor across the street, lent us a live trap. “I know the cat,” he said. “She’s a little bit of a thing and as wild as they come. Only Mr. and Mrs. Samuels can get close to her. I really believe she’s been hiding in the culvert that goes under the street right over there.” He pointed to the street corner near his yard. “Well,” I said, “I’ll bait the trap and set it tonight and see if we can catch her. She’s bound to be hungry.” I put out the trap right before Linda and I went in for supper.

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T H E S P O RT I N G L I F E

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Later that evening when we were preparing for bed after a tiring day, Linda reminded me about it. “I’ll check it in the morning,” I sighed. “She’ll be okay until then.” “Check it now. Something could get her in that thing. Come on, I’ll go with you.” We walked out front near the post light where I had put the trap, and I could hear a hissing that sounded like a tire going flat or, worse scenario, a wild cat. “We’ve caught something and it’s not happy. Don’t mess with it and I’ll get a flashlight.” The post light bulb had burned out, and all we could see was something black and mad in the trap. When I got back I stood at a safe distance and put the light on the trapped ani-

...and I could hear a hissing that sounded like a tire going flat or, worse scenario, a wild cat. mal. “Well, it’s a cat, but it’s not a sweet little thing like the Samuels said. I believe we’ve caught somebody else’s tiger.” The cat’s hair was standing straight up and under the light, it looked solid black. “Stand back, hon, and I’ll release it. That can’t be the cat we’re after.” I stood sideways to the trap, opened the door, stepped back and watched as our escaped friend shot out like a cannon and ran straight to the culvert under the street. “Oops, wrong. I believe that was our cat.” Linda said nothing, just looked at me askance with her hands on her hips. “Don’t worry, babe,” I said, “we caught her once, and we’ll catch her once more.” Wrong again. It took days of coaxing her closer to the house with cat food for her to finally end up in our backyard. And that’s how Maggie came to live with us for the next thirteen years. The Samuels gave up on trying to get her back, and over time Linda tamed the little kitty into becoming part of our family. She fit right in, made friends with Mackie, my

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


T H E S P O RT I N G L I F E

dog, secured me as part of her staff, and in general, made herself known throughout the neighborhood. There is a time and season for all things. Maggie grew old and, in the past several weeks, began a decline that ended yesterday. In the afternoon, I noticed that she was asleep in the path leading down to my duck boats. For a couple of days previously, she had refused to eat and had become very weak. I walked down to her, knelt at her side, rubbed her head, and she meowed back as if to say everything was all right. I went on up to the roost, a small apartment over my garage, to finish a column I had been working on. When I came back downstairs after an hour or so, Maggie was nowhere to be seen. I thought she’d likely gone back to the house, so I went up there to find her. She had disappeared. Our backyard is fenced so there was no way she could have left the yard. I had always heard that a dying cat would seek a private place for its last hours, so I searched the backyard from top to bottom. Linda came out and I told her that Maggie was missing and we needed to find her because a storm was moving in that evening. We resumed our search. No luck. As we were standing near the woodpile, Linda thought she heard a soft meow. Maggie had crawled up under the tarp that I keep over the wood. She wasn’t hiding, but that was going to be her last place. Linda got Maggie’s little cat bed, and I gently pulled her out from under the tarp and laid her in her bed. We put her in the garage realizing that this would be her last evening with us. We went to bed, both of us silent with sad thoughts. The next morning I got up early and decided not to wake Linda. The last chore in a pet’s life with a family is not an easy one, and I wanted Linda to remember Maggie as she was the evening before, asleep in her little bed. In the garage sometime during the night, Maggie had a peaceful passing. I wrapped her in a towel and carried her back to the fence. She always loved to lie under a big pine close to the street and check out the passing cars. I quickly dug a grave, gently placed her in it and covered her. Rain started to sprinkle through the pines as I headed back to the house. PS Tom Bryant is a lifelong outdoorsman and PineStraw’s Sporting Life columnist.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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G O L F TOW N J O U R NA L

Winter Wonderland The Tufts Archives, Pinehurst, NC

The assorted pleasures of golf’s dormant season

BY LEE PACE

“Go to the winter woods: listen

there, look, watch, and ‘the dead months’ will give you a subtler secret than any you have yet found in the forest.” — Fiona MacLeod, “Where the Forest Murmurs”

January and February weren’t always dead months in and around Pinehurst. The village and resort were actually founded by a chap from Boston who yearned for refuge from the bite and blow of a dark New England winter. It took management more than three decades after the launching of the first bramble in Pinehurst in 1898 to build grass putting greens because a sand/clay surface simply functioned better during the heavy winter golf months. The Carolina Hotel turned away guests by the thousands during Februarys in the Roaring Twenties. One year the caddies were all given brand-new overcoats by a generous guest, but they soon abandoned them when they realized the patrons thought they were flush with cash and didn’t need generous tips. Who needs sun and seventy degrees? The golf course at Pine Needles opened with a Women’s Open tournament in February 1928. Thousands of junior golfers have convened for more than half a century in late December at Pinehurst for the Donald Ross Junior. The 1936 PGA Championship was played on Pinehurst No. 2 in mid-November, the 1951 Ryder Cup matches in early November. The splendid English wordsmith Henry Longhurst, captured the vagaries of the fall-to-winter transition in an essay about the ’51 Ryder Cup, noting the practice rounds were played in sweltering heat that had morphed by Friday’s four-balls into what might be a December morning at Gleneagles. “Among the gallery in the fourth match, bearing no outward and visible sign connecting him to the proceedings, is a small dark man with gray raincoat, gray cap, gray trousers and inscrutable expression, looking somewhat like a Pinkerton detective on unobtrusive watch for pickpockets,” Longhurst wrote. “This is the world’s greatest golfer, Ben Hogan, participating in the Ryder Cup match. His

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partner, the normally flamboyant Jimmy Demaret, is concealed in a flowing check ulster with a distinctively Sherlock Holmes air. From time to time they step forward, undress, give the ball a resounding slam, and return to anonymity.” Golfers in Pinehurst have always had it lucky. So what if it rains in January? The water seeps quickly through the sandy loam. And modern construction practices make it possible for courses built on clay to be playable with reasonable recovery time. Pity the poor golfer in London a century ago; Harry Vardon nonetheless noted the stouthearted attitudes of those playing wet winter courses. “Fishermen’s waders would have been, perhaps, the most sensible footgear,” Vardon observed. “The player squelches his way through the swamps, scattering mud-showers with nearly every shot that he executed through the green, and yet finding a deal of enjoyment in his game.” For sixteen years now the Winternational Junior Series has been contested at Pinehurst, with nine 36-hole competitions for juniors played from November through March. Among the 1,700 competitors has been Andrew DiBitetto of Rochester, N.Y, who came to Pinehurst in the early 2000s from the frigid north just like his ancestors might have a century ago. “My brother and I will never forget the competition, the fun, and most of all the kids we met from around the country,” says DiBitetto, who went on to play collegiately at UNC Charlotte. Before Florida and Hilton Head, before airplanes, before air-conditioning, the Sandhills were a Mecca for cold-weather golf. “They came by train all winter long, from New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania — places that had been covered by snow for a month,” remembers Peggy Kirk Bell, who bought the Pine Needles golf course with husband Warren in 1953. “We’d have short cold snaps but soon it would be warm enough to play. They would ride the train all night on Thursday and we’d pick them up early Friday morning. They played golf all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday then we’d give them an early dinner and put them back on the train. They were back in New York for work Monday morning.” Pinehurst native Marty McKenzie worked in the Carolina Hotel in the 1960s and remembers the package deals popular in the winter. Golfers checking into the hotel were given two tickets good for two meals a day; this was an era when the European Plan ruled the

January 2010 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


G O L F TOW N J O U R NA L

day. New York Yankees catcher and later manager Yogi Berra was a regular in a group that bussed down each winter from New Jersey, just before reporting to Florida for spring training. “They played hard — golf all day, cards all night,” McKenzie says. “We called them the ‘PP’s for ‘package plan.’ They helped keep things going in the winter.” All of which has led me to the realization that I have been a fair-weather golfer for too long and hereby resolve this winter to listen, look, watch and, better yet, play the winter woods and fairways with a vigor normally reserved for May and June. I will find golf’s winter wonders. I think of it this way: Three months essentially wasted every year amounts to more than a decade withered in an adult lifetime. Sobering, no? I will play 18 holes on a really treacherous day. I will play once a week no matter what. I will walk to stay warm and play quickly with no one ahead of me. I will hit crisp iron shots off dormant Bermuda grass, in truth one of the best playing surfaces, and I will chip to temporary greens. I will find my wayward shots easily amid the naked trees. I will play a round with a 3-wood, 7-iron and putter only. The layers of clothes will sear the basics of the golf swing into my hyperkinetic brain: good turn, good extension, good connection. I will sip hot cocoa afterward. This winter I will practice a hundred fivefooters three times a week on my putting carpet. I will do core exercises and woodchops in the gym to improve my flexibility and stability. I will organize a weekend golf soiree. I will savor some of my favorite golf books; perhaps travel with Jim Finegan to the nooks and crannies of Ireland; rock back and forth on the terrace with the Oldest Member and his creator, P.J. Wodehouse; relive Watson, Nicklaus and Turnberry through the eyes of Herbert Warren Wind. Bet I can save two strokes by revisiting Harvey Penick and his Little Red Book; I mean, who wouldn’t benefit from this sentence on page 44: “Let your right elbow go back freely, but return it to your side when you start back to the ball.” Yes, give me some wool and ChapstickTM, some gray and brown, a low southern sun and sodden socks. John Updike had the right idea: “Golf feels, on the frost-stiffened fairways, reduced to its austere and innocent essence.” PS Lee Pace is an award-winning sportswriter and a longtime resident of Chapel Hill.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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January 2010

First Chance Here’s a little ditty For the first month of the year It isn’t all that pretty And you may not want to hear About those peccadilloes Those troubling little lies Best hid beneath the pillows Far from prying eyes. Donations you forgot to make The thank you never spoken. The challenge you refused to take The promise that was broken. The fishing trip — no time, too bad. The concert went unheard The disappointed little lad Who never said a word. The question needed a reply The favor, a return. Did you, at least, give it a try Or show sincere concern?

Janus, Roman god of gates And doors that swing both ways Looks backward, true, but still he waits For more productive days. January — cold and dark, His namesake, is a reason To scrawl a final mark Across this good and festive season. Then next time Janus slams the door Upon the finished year You’ll land feet first upon the floor Not smack down on your rear. So happy, happy twenty-ten To all of yours, and mine, A better year for all good men Than twenty-zero-nine. — Deborah Salomon PHOTOGRAPH BY HANNAH SHARPE


Everyday Heroes The hunger for authentic heroes — souls who inspire and motivate and make a positive difference in the lives of others — has probably never been stronger. In the wake of a decade characterized by a host of global problems and challenges, the need for local community outreach has only been amplified. We’re thrilled to present PineStraw’s 2010 Everyday Hero Award to five exceptional people who deeply strengthen our community bonds in a variety of ways. This year's diverse class includes a singing Samaritan, a queen of volunteer hearts, a man who helped bring new pride to an old community, a bicycle Santa, and a Boston patriot who knew if you build a great ball field — the kids will come.

Tom Van Camp BUILD A FIELD AND THEY WILL PLAY

BY TOM EMBREY

A

ptly enough, last Easter afternoon Tom Van Camp was walking his three dogs through the fire ant-infested ballfield behind Southern Pines Elementary School when he had a vision of rebirth. He mobilized a community of young football players and their parents, and quickly transformed the shaggy space into a field of football dreams. “It’s amazing what a small group of people can do when everyone is committed to a purpose,” says Van Camp, a local lawyer who played football and lacrosse at Franklin and Marshall College, and has been active in youth sports since he moved to the Sandhills 17 years ago with his wife Teresa. He considers getting that field ready for play in a matter of months, one of his proudest achievements. “If we’d had a different group of people,” he says, “it might never have gotten done. Everyone worked incredibly hard.” They had good reason to. Five years ago, Van Camp and a group of like-minded individuals founded the Sandhills Optimist Football League, which serves football-crazy kids from ages 6-12. The success of that league spawned the formation of the Sandhills Patriots, a traveling all-star team. That team has since morphed into three traveling teams. Each has had plenty of success on the field, but maybe more important to Tom and others,

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PHOTOGRAPH BY TIM SAYER

splendid fellowship off the field as well. Van Camp, a father of two Pinecrest High students, has coached football, baseball, and soccer. Along the way, his teams have won numerous titles, but it is his dedication to his parents and players and his commitment to teaching his players life lessons that makes him such an admirable Everyday Hero. “I think there are a lot of opportunities out here to be a role model to kids and give them something they can feel a part of,” he says. “We’re all kind of like fathers, coaches, mentors, counselors, educators. All the coaches do a really good job of coaching the whole individual not just the football player.” Not surprisingly, over the years, Van Camp has learned plenty from his players. “The first thing they teach you is there are a lot of great kids out there. Two, sometimes as coaches, we take this game far too seriously,” Van Camp says. “It is, after all, just a game. After losing a game, for instance, the kids are often understandably upset. But two hours later, they are just happy kids again. I think there’s a good message in that.” We agree, coach. Thanks for the vision — and the field.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


Earl Wright THE WRIGHT STUFF

PHOTOGRAPHS BY HANNAH SHARPE

BY HANNAH SHARPE

M

ost people remember getting their first bike almost as a treasured childhood memory. The clicking of a chain pulling through gears, the distorted reflections of shiny handlebars, the smell of new tires, the soft breeze of a downhill coast — a bicycle is often a kid’s first taste of independence. Earl Wright will tell you that when he was young, it took him and his brother four trips to the junkyard located two miles away from their home in Carthage to collect parts for his first bicycle. For the past six years, though, Wright has been refurbishing old bicycles so that hundreds of less-privileged children can have the same taste of independence that he yearned for. “Anything with wheels — I can do something with it,” Wright says with infectious confidence. And he’s built and rebuilt enough bikes to back up the claim. Better known as “Project Santa”, Wright began giving toys to local children 15 years ago after he started collecting unwanted toys from clients whose homes he cleaned for a living. “I just thought about when I was coming up,” he reflects. “It made me feel so good to get that one great present, something you loved to play with.” After “Project Santa” took off, Wright soon tailored his generosity to giving bicycles away in the parking lot of Bo’s Supermarket in Southern Pines. “I always saw that glow in their eyes about the bicycles,” he says. Now the yearly project generates an overwhelming response in both donations and demand for bikes. Wright begins collecting bikes around September, accumuPineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

lating piles of wheels, extra bicycle chains, inner tubing and old bike frames. By December, he’s in full swing with his signature Santa hat on to let everyone know he’s getting ready for the big day. When he’s not riding around looking for spare parts, picking up extra cans of WD-40 or stockpiling the finished bikes in storage, Wright toils away in his front yard, meticulously making sure each bike is as good as new while Christmas music blares from the radio. “I’ve got my time. I’ve got my health. That’s all I got,” he says. “As long as I know the kids count, I’ll be happy.” Hours before the annual distribution time arrives, children line up with their parents early on Christmas morning hoping for the chance to go pick out the bike of their dreams. The giveaway begins when Project Santa arrives, and within minutes, all the bikes have been pedaled away by their new owners. Wright loves seeing his hard work come to life before his eyes as children excitedly choose the bikes made especially for them. “I’m Santa Claus on Christmas Day for those few minutes,” Wright says with a big grin. Earl Wright is indeed every notion of good ole St. Nick with a twinkle in his eye and a workshop full of reborn bikes. He’s also our kind of Everyday Hero. Every Christmas, Project Santa leaves the parking lot of Bo’s Grocery with a warm heart, knowing a few more kids have bikes to call their own. He also knows he has lots more to give. “As long as God lets me stay here, I’m going to make it better and better,” he says. “You don’t stop giving from your heart.”

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PHOTOGRAPH BY HANNAH SHARPE

Miriam Jones THE SINGING SAMARITAN

BY HANNAH SHARPE

I

n the dining room at Carolina House, an assisted-living-care facility in Pinehurst, a group of white-haired, super-seniors sings an old-time hymn called “Soldiers

of the cross.” They are led by a cheerful woman who stands swaying to the music, eyes closed and her right hand raised above her head. As the hymn ebbs, 96-year-old Miriam Jones looks across the room and smiles affectionately at all her “old folks” — a term of endearment she likes to use even though she’s older than virtually everyone in the room. For the past dozen years, Jones has directed a weekly Thursday morning worship service aimed at bringing spirituality to residents in the assisted-living community. “There’s one thing I wish I could give them: joy,” she says emphatically. “If I can just give them joy somehow — by singing something crazy to them or loving them — it makes them feel included and wanted. The underlying unconscious drive to volunteer is to give something back.” Jones is not your typical 96-year-old volunteer. She still drives herself around in a small Toyota Camry, hauls wood for her fireplace at home, and serves on a variety of outreach committees at her

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church, the Sandhills Assembly of God. She credits her unwavering desire to help others find spiritual grace to the personal discipline her parents instilled in her, and a long life filled with personal trials . “When I start to get up, I feel 96, but when I get going I forget about it,” she says with a laugh. Like a true Samaritan, Jones has found her calling helping all kinds of people over the course of a long and busy lifetime, which included raising four kids in New Rochelle, N.Y. Decades ago she began her volunteer work at a local hospital, reading to anyone who wanted to hear a story. She also listened to people talk about their own life struggles, sympathizing with the frustration many patients experienced from doctors who poked and prodded them like livestock. “Some doctors make you feel like they’re not relating to you at all,” she says. In time her own faith journey became part of her ministry. “I’d sit with them and talk to them about the Lord,” she explains, noting how she could powerfully empathize with almost anyone’s struggles because of her own. Following a devastating divorce in the 1970s, for instance, she moved out of the house she and her former husband built for retirement in Pinehurst, sold most of her possessions, and moved to West End, where her sister and brother-in-law had just settled. Church and family life provided the healing process she needed and offered an avenue for her own expanded service to the spiritual community. The trials of life, she insists, really do build character. “How do you develop your character if you don’t have trials of life?” she asks. “It’s not what happens to you that really matters, but how you handle it. God gave me a trial as a gift,” she says. “If I don’t give Him something back, I’d be very ungrateful.” At 96, she shows little sign of slowing down in her efforts to bring a healing grace to others. “It’s all about the joy,” she says. “And the singing.”

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


BY TOM EMBREY

M

aurice Holland, Sr. didn’t plan on being the driving force for change in the Midway community. He didn’t want the job; didn’t ask for it, but sometime in the late 1990s he accepted it. “Probably because I got a big mouth, I got stuck with this role,” Holland says smiling. “But in retrospect, maybe it was my purpose.” For nearly two decades Holland has accepted that purpose whole-heartedly and worked diligently with others to improve the community by promoting family, values and a sense of history and community. Under Holland’s tenure as president of the Midway Community Association, residents refurbished their community center, had water and sewer lines installed, and were successfully annexed by Aberdeen, earning residents a right to vote. In November, Holland, 65, voted in a municipal election for the first time. To know what makes Holland tick, what drives him, look to his past. During his junior year of high school Holland played on a basketball team that was 0-23. He learned lessons then that have stayed with him and shaped his life. “In the huddle our cry was, ‘One for all and all for one, fight like hell and beat everybody,’” Holland says. “I never forgot that.” Since then he has worked as a cook, a waiter, a mobile home salesman, and owned his own business. But he has always put his family and his community first. Today, Holland, who calls himself semiretired, credits his refusal to accept the status quo as a driving force for change. But it’s faith that pushes him to continue to work for his community, no matter what. Having met the Association’s goals — getting water and sewer, becoming residents, and getting the right to vote — Holland now focuses on the future. He hopes to educate residents and get them involved in the political process in order to maintain the community’s identity and traditions, and to improve the quality of life for current and future Midway families. “We are doing this for the betterment of the community,” he says, “Midway has it’s own legacy. It is worth preserving and improving.”

Maurice Holland Sr. THE MIDWAY RENAISSANCE MAN

PHOTOGRAPH BY ERICK DUPLESSIS

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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BY ASHLEY WAHL

L Linda Hubbard A QUEEN OF HEART

PHOTOGRAPH BY ERICK DUPLESSIS

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inda Hubbard made Southern Pines her home in 1970 with three things: a happy marriage, savvy background in marketing, and the heart of a giver. Ever since, she has spearheaded several volunteer agencies and charity golf tournaments in Moore County, all while holding prominent positions with various Sandhills organizations. As the Volunteer Coordinator for Moore County Schools, Linda’s passion to improve the lives of students and her dedication to making it happen have resulted in the creation of two successful programs: BackPack Pals, an expanding volunteer organization that now supplies 671 deserving children with nutritious food to eat over the weekend, and Luther & Friends, a program that uses certified therapy dogs to motivate students struggling to read. Linda praises BackPack Pal’s “huge community support” for its success, and claims that Luther & Friends has improved the reading skills of the kids involved, and has helped to make reading fun for them. “It’s very non-threatening for children,” Linda tenderly asserts, “to read to a canine buddy.” Though open slots on her calendar are sparse, Linda is still able to find time to take her dogs to Pooch Park In the Pines – one of her latest projects, inspired by her curious Border Collie, Birdie. “It was a labor of love for about 25 people who wanted a safe place to take their dogs to run and play,” she says of the fenced-in park where over 230 members bring their leashfree canines and meet other dog owners. “Little groups have connected and are meeting out there.” She smiles, “That’s what makes it fun.” During December, Linda placed a tree at the pooch park ornamented with icons of the 26 dogs and 50 cats currently living at Moore Humane no-kill shelter. Thanks to the members of the park who picked a cat or dog from the tree, the homeless animals received food and toys as personalized Christmas gifts “from” a more fortunate park pup. Hubbard is also in the process of raising money and awareness for Spay Neuter Veterinary Clinic of the Sandhills. “The idea,” she shares, “ is to eventually eradicate animal euthanasia in the area.” Though Linda humbly credits much of her success to others, including the support of her husband John, it is her generous and passionate spirit that brings our dreams of a better county to life.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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S TO RY O F A H O U S E

The Healing House A thoughtful restoration brings Kelly Plantation new life BY DEBORAH SALOMON • PHOTOGRAPHS BY GLENN DICKERSON

A

ntiquity has an allowed gas fireplaces and a storm door, aroma. Enter an but wood, metal, brick, ceramic tile and antique shop — and granite did not yield to manufactured inhale. In an old surfaces. house, layers of paint Yet because of the picket fence, young barely mask the pleasant mustiness. landscaping and freshly painted clapSurprisingly, Nancy Blount’s restoraboards, passersby might mistake the house tion crew found only two layers of paint for contemporary when, in fact, it reflects on the walls of Kelly Plantation, comregional history. pleted in 1842 by slave labor on a knoll John Kelly and his brothers, born on overlooking Alexander Kelly’s 3,000 the Isle of Skye in Scotland, immigrated acres just outside Carthage. Little else to Moore County in 1803, part of the had changed: The boxy four-over-four Highland Scot influx. John prospered as a layout remained virtually intact. Doors lawyer and landowner. He commissioned with massive iron locks were original. nephew Alexander Kelly, who had archiFloors had not been varnished. tectural leanings, to build the house. For 168 years, this door and these windows Bathrooms were present but not closets. Timber was cut and bricks were fired on have fronted the Kelly Plantation. The bones stood simple, practical, the premises. Construction took seven unembellished. years. Alexander Kelly, sheriff of Moore Yet the vacant residence had suffered. County during the Civil War, state senator, part-owner of the As had Blount. Her husband died suddenly in 2001. Virginia Tyson Kelly Carriage Works and reportedly the county’s richest natives Nancy and Doug Blount shared a love of Southern history, man, purchased the house after John’s death. lore and furnishings. The Kelly Plantation is one of only three surviving antebellum “Other men played golf while their wives did something else. mansions in Moore County. Kelly descendants occupied the house Our Saturday outing was going to an auction,” Blount says. “We until 1998. did it together.” “We had the most wonderful home to grow up in,” says After Doug’s death, Kelly Plantation became her healing house. Rosemary Kelly Thomas of Wilmington — even though the loo “I needed a project.” was still a “johnny house” and eight fireplaces barely heated rooms Ray Owen, Southern Pines history buff and friend, understood with 12-ft. ceilings. Thomas and her five siblings slept in the 18her need. by-20 ft. second floor bedroom, now the master bed-sitting room “I knew Nancy was looking for a house in Virginia,” Owen says. — except during summers, when they moved onto the back porch “But I also knew the Kelly property might be available.” Owen with the “lightnin’ bugs.” appreciated its potential. “I see the hand of humanity in that The worn back door sill reminds Thomas of the Kelly children house. It has a really old feeling, a place for reflection, a spiritual running in and out to a rope swing suspended from the massive place.” Blount encouraged Owen to investigate. A deal was con300-year-old oak which stands, barely, in the yard. cluded with the neighbor who owned the unattended homestead. “Every time that tree loses a limb I grieve,” Blount says. Blount’s “project” turned monumental. She didn’t want an The architectural style falls between transitional Federal and antebellum shell masking contemporary conveniences. No Greek Revival, with a sprinkling of New England saltbox. As was armoires hiding flat-screen TVs; no wall-hung kitchen cabinets, the norm, rooms were large but few. Yet the eight-room house spa tubs, wine cellars or recessed lights. The house was not never felt crowded with 10 people in residence, Thomas recalls. amenable to the blown insulation, vacuum system and the geoAnd now, she says, “It’s absolutely gorgeous. I never dreamed it thermal heating/cooling system Blount hoped to install. She would be this pretty.”

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


Solid construction,using local materials, has helped the Federal/Greek Revival house endure. A careful restoration by Nancy Blount (above) brought it back to its original splendor.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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The parlor is furnished in period pieces, at least one belonging to Alexander Kelly.

A tiny “house portrait” and painted valances are unique, decorative features from an era characterized by restraint.

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Gorgeous, perhaps, but not in the conventional sense. After owning and studying the house for a year Nancy Blount remained determined to rehabilitate it, as it was, to the extent possible. The challenge fell to Dean Ruedrich, an award-winning Louisburg contractor specializing in restoration/preservation of historic buildings. Ruedrich told Blount her purchase was one of the purest homes in North Carolina. “It hadn’t been abused,” Ruedrich says. “The amount of original surfaces and materials that hadn’t been remodeled was unbelievable.” Furthermore, his desire to restore the integrity meshed with Blount’s plan. The restoration took more than a year. Preservationist interns who worked on the project lived in a silver Airstream trailer parked in the driveway. Painters from Greensboro pitched a tent out back. Ruedrich provided a mason who works exclusively on old houses. The result is seamless. Nothing looks new, everything looks right. Details and furnishings give the rooms a museum quality. Wide heart pine floorboards were cleaned, not sanded or polished. Soaring 7-ft. windows (many with original glass panes) are topped by valances which may have been painted by itinerant artist Charles Scott, who also painted and signed, in 1842, a tiny primitive portrait of the house enclosed in a frame attached to the parlor mantel — the only know example of this art form in North Carolina. A mahogany case piece made by a local cabinetmaker for John or Alexander Kelly stands in the parlor. Otherwise, Blount reupholstered 19th century wing chairs and sofas in the warm reds and creams she cannot live without. Slight alterations were made to the layout. (Every removed board was numbered and stored.) A fourth bedroom became two bathrooms and a closet. The bedroom opposite the parlor became a stately dining room. The enlarged kitchen now extends across the rear of the house. This kitchen continues the mode. Oxblood/raspberry paint, dark woods, absence of wall-mounted cabinets (replaced by a pie safe), modest appliances, rough-hewn dinette table, fireplace and a cabinet “island” enforce the 19th century mode. You can almost smell okra stewing. But where is the refrigerator? Because refrigerators scream “now,” Ruedrich located it in a laundry room beyond the kitchen. An invisible under-the-counter refrigerator holds frequently used items.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


Pottery brought Doug and Nancy Blount to the Sandhills. She studies and collects North Carolina pottery. Jugs and tableware appear throughout the house, but look especially at home in this kitchen. Wainscoting is basic, walls are painted horizontal boards. No carvings adorn the banister or newel post. A crown molding in the parlor appears almost frilly amid what Blount calls the era’s “simple vernacular.” “North Carolina architecture of that period was very restrained,” Ruedrich explains. But upstairs the tables, bureaus, quilts, four-poster beds, benches, cabinets and needlepoint express Blount’s knowledge of fine Southern furnishings, a skill she practices at Leland Little Auction and Estate Sales in Hillsborough. The project satisfied Blount’s need. “Doug would be very proud of me, that I took such a major step. I have a sense of obligation to preserve what was important in our history,” she says. “When I sit on the back porch with the dogs in the early summer and listen to the whippoorwills I feel a sense of contentment and peace.” Once a year, Blount turns the house over to the Kellys for their family reunion. “We bring our children and grandchildren,” Rosemary Thomas says. “We sleep in the house and tell them stories. They love to hear about the ‘olden days.’” Especially surrounded by olden walls, which exude that faint mustiness. “Nancy did a good job on the house,” Thomas concludes. “She kept it natural, the way it was. She’s a wonderful person.”

What better backdrop for Nancy Blount’s North Carolina pottery collection than her kitchen and dining room?

The stately dining room, formerly the Kelly master bedroom, has the only ceiling fixture. Twelve-foot ceilings make downstairs rooms soar.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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Each fabric and furnishing in the two upstairs bedrooms reflects Blount’s knowledge of North Carolina antiques. Gas fireplaces were allowed, but no closets were added.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


Legend and Lore from Kelly Plantation

D

uring the Civil War, a deserter fired at Alexander Kelly while he sat on the porch reading a newspaper. Fragments of the bullet were later found in the woodwork. Also during the war, Kelly traveled to Richmond to exhume and collect the bodies of his son (who died of heatstroke) and nephew (killed at Fredericksburg). Upon return, their coffined bodies were propped against the fence before reburial. In the 1840s, John Kelly, for whom the house was built, reportedly had the first bathtub in North Carolina — before even the U.S. President owned one. The outhouse, which serviced the family into the 20th century, was a rare two-seater, according to a descendant. Alexander Kelly was known to be a kind and beneficent slave master. Some of his slaves (including mulattoes with the Kelly surname) remained after the Civil War. They lived in three adjacent dwellings; the women helped raise the Kelly children. As was the custom, the house had a detached or semi-detached kitchen out back, to keep heat away from the living space. The elms along Carthage’s oldest streets were dragged from nearby swamps and planted by John Waggoner, a Kelly ex-slave who stayed with the family after the war. Close to 100 descendants of John Kelly have, at some time, resided at Kelly Plantation House. PS PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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Dr. Barry Buchele and caretaker Gary Lynch (top left) check on the progress of Cedar Hill’s wildfl ower meadow, while master gardener Shirley Lynch (below) works amongst the flowers.

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W W

ildflowers in

BY NOAH SALT PHOTOGRAPHS BY HANNAH SHARPE

S

inter

everal years ago I happened to pay a late December visit to a famous wildflower seed company in Vermont and found the staff working like Santa’s elves on triple overtime pay. They were hustling to get the company’s latest seed catalog out the mailroom door and into the hands of thousands of customers who hadn’t seen a blooming thing in months. “They say it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” explained one of the staffers, “when the garden catalogs begin showing up in your mailbox. But we would tell you all great wildflower gardens really start in mid January. That’s when the true gardener’s brain gets down to business, the planning starts in earnest, and seed-buying happens like there’s no tomorrow.” That pretty well describes the brainstorm that came to caretaker Gary Lynch about this time last year as he was browsing garden catalogs and thinking about creative ways to give his clients more bang for their bucks — and enhanced natural beauty — in their gardens. A low-maintenance wildflower meadow struck Gary Lynch as the ideal way to do just that. “The problem is because so many of the finer gardens in the Sandhills are professionally designed and maintained, and this region is not generally known for its wildflowers, you simply don’t see a lot of wildflower meadows around these parts,” Lynch explains. Lynch decided a 35-by-60 ft. side yard belonging to Sarah and Dr. Barry Buchele and their historic Cedar Hill home in Pinehurst — a rambling beauty that started life in the early 1900s as an overflow residence for the Carolina Hotel — would be an ideal living laboratory to try and create a Sandhills wildflower meadow. “The yard was about 2,000 sq. ft. that never quite made it as a lawn. There were always uneven patches and the grass needed almost constant watering,” Lynch remembers. “When I mentioned the idea of a wildflower meadow to the Bucheles, they were right onboard with it.”


In May, Lynch got down to work, rototilling the yard to a depth of six inches and removing all of the thatch; his wife, Shirley, a Master Gardener, found a hummingbird and butterfly mixture of various Southeastern wildflowers; and Lynch got down to work planting, raking and watering. “It took only about $100 worth of seeds and 20 hours of work,” Lynch reports. Within 14 days the site was a carpet of young sprouts. A short time later, he gave the meadows a solitary shot of Miracle-Gro fertilizer and reduced watering to only twice a week. By July, more than 20 different species were blooming: Prairie Coneflower, Plains Coreopsis, Rose Mallow, Ox-Eye Daisy, Texas Bluebonnet, Bachelor Buttons, Chinese Forget-me-nots, Sweet William and Wild Zinnia. By the time the wild Cosmos and large sunflowers began to appear, butterflies, dragonflies, small birds and bees were prevalent throughout the meadow, as was a certain rogue hummingbird who dived the meadow almost every morning on his way to wherever hummingbirds spend their summer days. In late afternoon, a pair of goldfinches, male and female, adopted the Buchele wildflower meadow as their own. “We never lost any flowers to pests and the insects and birds couldn’t get enough of these flowers,” remembers Lynch, who was more than delighted with the way his experiment worked out. So were his employers, the Bucheles. “My wife and I made several trips a day to just sit and admire the garden,” says Barry Buchele. “It was a great way to utilize the space and conserve natural resources. Every time I went out to look at the garden, I saw something new. Because the garden was fairly well hidden from the street, it was always a nice surprise to guests. The garden was fantastic.” Gary Lynch believes wildflower meadows are an ideal answer to the annual challenge Sandhills gardeners face from drought.

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“In a nutshell,” he says, “I believe there is no better way to utilize land at a minimum cost of material and labor and get more value and beauty out of a garden. Look at what we haven’t put back into the environment in terms of precious water, fertilizer and pesticides. In this instance, less really is far more.” The Bucheles’ wildflower meadow bloomed its head off right through the fall and early winter, prompting Gary Lynch to plan an even more ambitious wildflower garden for the spring and summer of 2010. “I’ll probably spend all winter thinking about how I’m going to amend the soil and try and kill off a few more weeds. In January, when most things are deep into their dormant phase, it’ll be such fun to think about what other interesting wildflowers I can add to the garden this year,” Lynch says. “I pass the Pinehurst Circle, where everything is so manicured and needs constant attention, and all I can think is, ‘Wow, how great would that look planted in native wildflowers!” He smiles and adds, “Excellent dreams for a cold winter day. Once they get in your head, they just grow and grow.” PS

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Shop Sanford


Shop Sanford


SandhillSeen Festival of Trees Carolina Hotel Photographs by Jeanne Paine

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SandhillSeen Opening Meet of the Moore County Hounds Hobby Field Photographs by Jeanne Paine

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SandhillSeen

Christmas at Weymouth Preview Party Weymouth Center Photographs by Jeanne Paine

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SandhillSeen

Hunt Breakfast Opening Meet of Moore County Hounds Full Cry Farm Photographs by Jeanne Paine

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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SandhillSeen The Moore County Driving Club Southern Pines Photographs by Jeanne Paine

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SandhillSeen Puttin’ on the Ritz — Top Hat & Tails Animal Advocates of Moore County The Fair Barn Photographs by Jeanne Paine

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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SandhillSeen The Sunrise Theater Opera Gala Photographs by Jeanne Paine

SandhillSeen The Village Arboretum Donor Appreciation Party Photographs by Jeanne Paine

Shop Seven Lakes

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Shop Seven Lakes

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Our customers are our greatest asset. Call our experienced specialists today for all your flooring needs!

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POLAR BEAR 150. (910)205-8800 or .rockinghamracewaypark.com PINE NEEDLESMID PINES PARENTCHILD GOLF TOURNAMENT (910) 692-8611 COMMUNITY READ Southern Pines Public Library (910) 692-8235 PRESCHOOL STORYTIME 3:30-4 p.m. Southern Pines Public Library (910) 692-8235

OIL PAINTING WITH LINDA BRUENIN Artists League of the Sandhills (910) 944-3979

WEYMOUTH CHAMBER MUSIC SERIES 3 p.m. Weymouth Center (910) 692-6261

THE TEEN ADVISORY BOARD 5:30 p.m. Southern Pines Public Library (910) 692-8235

SUNDAY AFTERNOON MOVIE 2:30 p.m. Southern Pines Public Library (910) 6928235

PRESCHOOL STORYTIME 3:30-4 p.m. Southern Pines Public Library (910) 692-8235

ART INSTRUCTION. 2 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhills (910) 9443979 WOMEN OF PIZZA WITH WEYMOUTH LECTURE 9:30 a.m. PIZZAZZ: Super Bowl Party 5-6 p.m. (910) 692-6261 Southern Pines Public CLOSURE The Library (910) 692-8235 Library will be closed for the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday.

SPECIAL FORCES LECTURE 3:30 p.m. Given Memorial Library (910) 2953642

VIOLINIST JOSHUA BELL Meymandi Hall, Raleigh (910) 692-2787

SPOTTED TURTLES 7 p.m. Weymouth Woods Auditorium (910) 692-2167

EXPLORING INKS PRESCHOOL 9 a.m.-12 p.m. Artists STORYTIME 3:30-4 p.m. Southern Pines League of the Sandhills (910) 944- Public Library (910) 692-8235 3979

NC SYMPHONY CONCERT - A NIGHT IN OLD (AND NEW) VIENNA 8 p.m. Pinecrest High School Auditorium (877) 627-6724

DANCING WITH THE SANDHILLS STARS 6 p.m. Pine Needles Hospitality Center www.sandhillsstars.com

NC POETRY SOCIETY at Weymouth Center (910) 692-6261

OPEN STUDIO WITH LIVE MODEL 10:30 a.m. Artists League of the Sandhills (910) 944-3979

PRESCHOOL STORYTIME 3:30-4 p.m. Southern Pines Public Library (910) 692-8235

THE MET AT THE SUNRISE DER ROSENKAVALIER 1 p.m. Sunrise Theater( 910) 6923611 or sunrisetheater.com

THE MET AT THE SUNRISE CARMEN 1 p.m. Sunrise Theater (910) 692-3611 or sunrisetheater.com

OLDIES & GOODIES FILM SERIES 2:30 p.m. (910) 692-8235

DRAWING JUST FOR FUN 6-8 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhills (910) 9443979 LECTURE The Sandhills: The Comfort of Tradition & Ritual 2 p.m. Moore County Historical Association (910) 692-2051

ART EXHIBIT & OPENING RECEPTION 6-8 p.m. Exhibit on display through January 29 (Monday-Friday, 9am5pm and Saturday, January 16, 2-4pm). Campbell House Galleries (910) 6922787 or www.mooreart.org

SHEN YUN. 12 a.m. depart Lowes Food (910) 295-2257 PINALIA HOLLY DINNER 7p.m. Berceau, Home of James and Lucille Buck (910) 295 3642

THE PIPE OPENER I DRESSAGE AND COMBINED TEST Carolina Horse Park (910) 875-2074

MASTERS EXHIBIT GRAND OPENING CEREMONY 7 p.m Arts Council of Fayetteville/Cumberla nd County (910) 3231776

RAISING THE ROOF 9 7:30 p.m. Sunrise Theater (910) 692-3611

OIL PAINTING WATER REFLECTIONS 10 a.m.-3 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhill (910) 944-3979

FUNDRAISING CONCERT Weymouth Center (910) 692-6261

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SANDHILLS TOUR 9 a.m. - 4 p.m. (910) 295-2257 ext. 21

BEGINNING SOFT PASTEL 10 a.m. Artists League of the Sandhills (910) 944-3979

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January 1

January Calendar

POLAR BEAR 150. Ninety-nine cars will take the green flag for the Polar Bear 150. Rockingham Speedway, 2152 North US Highway One, Rockingham. For more information please call (910)205-8800 or visit www.rockinghamracewaypark.com.

January 1-3 PINE NEEDLES-MID PINES PARENT-CHILD GOLF TOURNAMENT. Parents and children of all ages are welcome to experience tournament golf. Tournament entry fee for two days of competition on Donald Ross courses. For more information please call Pine Needles at (910)692-8611.

January 1-March 26 COMMUNITY READ. Southern Pines Public Library, as part of the Moore County Area Libraries (MCAL) group, is sponsoring a Community Read, encouraging citizens to read the same book, take part in discussions, lectures, and other events. The book selected is “Serena” by Ron Rash, a novel set in a lumber camp in the NC mountains in 1929. Author Ron Rash is scheduled to appear at a luncheon and reading on March 26, and his appearance is one of the featured events of the Palustris Festival. For more information, please call (910)692-8235 or visit www.sppl.net.

piece of love and intrigue in 18th-century Vienna stars Renée Fleming as the aristocratic Marschallin and Susan Graham in the trouser role of her young lover. Music Director James Levine conducts a cast that also includes Kristinn Sigmundsson and Thomas Allen. Tickets are available at the Sunrise Office and online. The Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad Street, Southern Pines. For more information, please visit www.sunrisetheater.com DANCING WITH THE SANDHILLS STARS. 6 p.m. Cocktails, 7 p.m. Dinner seating, 8 p.m. Local leaders in the community will compete for your vote on the dance floor to raise awareness of mentoring and the impact it has on helping children reach their potential and become successful in school and in life. Show at the Pine Needles Hospitality Center, Southern Pines. Dress: Festive Party Apparel. For more information, please visit www.sandhillsstars.com.

January 10 WEYMOUTH CHAMBER MUSIC SERIES. 3 p.m. Featuring Aurora Musicalis. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. For more information, please call (910) 692-6261.

January 4, February 1, March1

SUNDAY AFTERNOON MOVIE. 2:30 p.m. The Southern Pines Public Library. Kids in grades 35 and their parents are invited. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, an animated feature based on the picture book, will be shown and refreshments served. For more information, please call (910) 6928235 or visit www.sppl.net.

OIL PAINTING WITH LINDA BRUENIN 9 a..m.-12 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Once a month supervised studio painting session. Learn art history, design concepts, painting hints & tips; Intermediate level. $20 members/$30 nonmembers. Min. 6/Max. 12. For more information, please call (910)944-3979 or visit www.artistleague.org.

SEE HOW IT’S DONE. 2 p.m. – 5 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhills. Instructor’s Demo Day and Reception. Stop in and meet the instructors, view their work, ask questions and sign up for a class. The exhibit will hang in the Exchange Street Gallery until January 29 with gallery hours Monday – Saturday from 12 a.m. – 3 p.m. For more information, please call (910) 944-3979 or visit www.artistleague.org.

January 6 PRESCHOOL STORYTIME for infants and toddlers (ages birth through 5 years). 3:30-4 p.m. for stories, songs, and fun, and then stay for playtime! At The Southern Pines Public Library. For more information, please call (910)692-8235 or visit www.sppl.net.

January 7 SPECIAL FORCES LECTURE. 3:30 p.m. Given Memorial Library. MSG Davis of the Special Forces will be discussing present-day Special Forces training, the role they play in our community, and how they are selected, qualify, and graduate to become a member of the Special Forces. His wife, Lauren, will be joining him to share and answer questions from the perspective of the wives. This is free and open to the public. For more information, please call (910) 295-3642.

January 8 ART EXHIBIT & OPENING RECEPTION. 6-8 p.m. Karen Schnell-Chisholm, Paintings. Exhibit on display through January 29 (Monday-Friday, 9 a.m.5 p.m. and Saturday, January 16, 2-4 p.m) Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. For more information, please call (910)6922787 or visit www.mooreart.org.

January 9

EDDIE BARRETT AND THE GOODMAN LEGACY ORCHESTRA. 3:30 - 6 p.m. at Mr. P’s, 155 Hall Ave., Southern Pines. For more information, please call (910) 603-7660.

January 13 PRESCHOOL STORYTIME for infants and toddlers (ages birth through 5 years). 3:30-4 p.m. for stories, songs, and fun, and then stay for playtime! At The Southern Pines Public Library. For more information, please call (910) 692-8235 or visit www.sppl.net. THE TEEN ADVISORY BOARD holds its first meeting of 2010 at 5:30 p.m. At the Southern Pines Public Library. New members welcome! For more information, please call (910) 692-8235 or visit www.sppl.net.

January 14 VIOLINIST JOSHUA BELL. Arts Council of Moore County presents an ARTour to see violinist Joshua Bell, Meymandi Hall, Raleigh. For more information, please call (910) 692-2787 or visit www.mooreart.org. OLDIES & GOODIES FILM SERIES. 2:30 p.m. The Southern Pines Public Library. The movie is Ruby Gentry, a 1952 romantic drama set in tidewater NC and starring Jennifer Jones, Charlton Heston, and Karl Malden. Enjoy a classic film and a cup of tea! For more information, please call (910) 692-8235 or visit www.sppl.net.

THE MET AT THE SUNRISE - DER ROSENKAVALIER. 1 p.m. Strauss’s comic master-

250 NW Broad St. Southern Pines • 692-3611 www.sunrisetheater.org January Movie & Event Schedule Evening $7.00, Matinee $6.00 Children under 12 - $5.00 Weekdays at 7:30 Sat. & Sun. at 2:30 & 7:30

THE METROPOLITAN OPERA Der Rosenkavalier • Sat Dec 9 at 1pm Reserve seating Tickets $20 ENCORE Der Rosenkavalier • Jan 20 at 6pm Carmen • Jan 27 at 6pm Tickets $20, general admission NATIONAL LIVE THEATER "Nation" • Jan 30 at 1:00pm Ticket prices vary RAISING THE ROOF 9 Annual Benefit Concert for the Sunrise Theater Saturday Jan 23 at 7:30pm Reserved seating, $25

PIRATE RADIO Jan. 1, 4 • 7:30pm Jan. 2-3 • 2:30 & 7:30pm

AMELIA Jan. 7 - 11 • 7:30pm Jan. 10 • 2:30 & 7:30pm

COCO BEFORE CHANEL Jan 14 - 18 • 7:30pm Jan 17 • 2:30 & 7:30pm

PARIS Jan. 21, 22 & 25 • 7:30pm Jan. 24 • 2:30 & 7:30pm

Key: Art Literature Children Dance Film Fun Health History Music Nature Speaker Sports Theater PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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CA L E N DA R

January 14, February 25, March 11

January 18

January 22

OPEN STUDIO WITH LIVE MODEL TAUGHT BY BETTY DIBARTOLOMEO. 10:30 a.m.-4:30 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhills 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Work from live, clothed model; work in medium of choice; individual help will be available. $45 members/$55 nonmembers. Min. 6/Max. 10. For more information, please call (910)944-3979 or visit www.artistleague.org.

WOMEN OF WEYMOUTH. 9:30 a.m. coffee and 10 a.m. lecture begins. Sandy Berger leads the discussion, “Newest Computer Gadgets: All you Need to Know to Amaze your Kids & Grandkids.” For more information, please call (910)692-6261 or visit www.weymouthcenter.org.

January 16

DRAWING JUST FOR FUN with Barbara Sickenberger. 6-8 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhills 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. All levels welcome; combine abstract shapes from interesting compositions. $55 members/$75 nonmembers. Min. 6/Max. 12. For more information, please call (910)944-3979 or visit www.artistleague.org.

PINALIA HOLLY DINNER. 7p.m. Berceau, Home of James and Lucille Buck. To benefit the Givens Library and Tufts Archives. Dinner menu will be an encore of menus from early Holly Inn opening days. The china and silver will also be from the opening of the Holly Inn in 1895. This is a “blacktie preferred” event. The cost is $125. For more information, please contact the Tufts Archives at (910)295 3642.

THE MET AT THE SUNRISE-CARMEN. 1 p.m. One of the most popular operas of all time, Carmen. Angela Gheorghiu plays the seductive gypsy of the title in her role debut, opposite Roberto Alagna as the obsessed Don José. Tickets are on sale at the Sunrise Office and online. The Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad Street, Southern Pines. For more information, please visit www.sunrisetheater.com NC POETRY SOCIETY at Weymouth Center, Southern Pines. For more information, please call (910)692-6261 or visit www.weymouthcenter.org. SHEN YUN. 12 a.m. depart Lowes Foods, Olmstead Village, 2 p.m. Matinee show in Raleigh, return after dinner. It’s traditional Chinese culture as it was meant to be — a brilliant blend of beauty, energy, and grace. A visually dazzling tour of 5,000 years of Chinese history and culture. Dutch treat dinner at 42nd Street Oyster Bar. The cost of this tour is $116 (includes Orchestra Seating & transportation). For more information, please call (910)295-2257 or 800700-4369 or visit www.kirktours.com

January 18-February 8 (Mondays)

January 19 PIZZA WITH PIZZAZZ: Super Bowl Party 5-6 p.m. The Southern Pines Public Library. Kids in grades 6-8 are invited. Even non-football fans will have fun playing games and eating free pizza! For more information, please call (910)692-8235 or visit www.sppl.net.

January 20 PRESCHOOL STORYTIME for infants and toddlers (ages birth through 5 years). 3:30-4 p.m. for stories, songs, and fun, and then stay for playtime! At The Southern Pines Public Library. For more information, please call (910)692-8235 or visit www.sppl.net.

Key: Art Literature Children Dance Film Fun Health History Music Nature

MASTERS EXHIBIT GRAND OPENING CEREMONY. 7 p.m Arts Council of Fayetteville/Cumberland County will be hosting the The National Conference of Artists - Michigan Chapter’s Art of the Masters: A Survey of AfricanAmerican Images, 1980 - 2000. This is a one of a kind exhibit and this will be its only stop in North Carolina. Arts Council Building, 301 Hay Street, Fayetteville. For more information, please call (910) 323-1776.

January 23 THE PIPE OPENER I DRESSAGE AND COMBINED TEST. NCDCTA recognized. Carolina Horse Park, just off Hwy 211, between Aberdeen and Raeford. For more information, please call (910)875-2074 or visit www.carolinahorsepark.com. SUNEVENT AT THE SUNRISE — RAISING THE ROOF 9. 7:30pm. Our ninth year of this popular concert which showcases a variety of regional talent. A sellout every year — this is the most popular ensemble concert around. Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad Street, Southern Pines. For more information, please call (910)692-3611. Speaker Sports Theater

CUTLER TREE

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

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CA L E N DA R “FOOTPRINTS IN THE SANDHILLS TOUR.” 9 a.m. - 4 p.m.Calling all Sandhills newcomers and natives! Explore and learn more about your hometowns and history of the area of Moore County. Dutch treat lunch at Westmore restaurant. The cost of this trip $35 per person. For more information, please call (910)295-2257 ext.21, to register and get more details visit www.kirktours.com

January 24 LECTURE. The Sandhills: The Comfort of Tradition & Ritual by Mary Wayne Watson. 2 p.m., Moore County Historical Association Southern Pines First Baptist Church. No Admission. For more information, please call (910)692-2051 or visit www.moorehistory.com.

January 25 SPOTTED TURTLES. 7 p.m. The Sandhills Natural History Society meets at Weymouth Woods Auditorium, 1024 Ft. Bragg Rd., Southern Pines Writer, illustrator and educator Bob Palmatier will talk about his many years of research and observations on spotted turtles. Visitors welcome! For more information, please call (910)692-2167 or visit www.sandhillsnature.org.

January 26-27 EXPLORING INKS WITH KAREN WALKER. 9 a.m.-12 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhills 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Explore vibrant color of alcohol-based inks; learn techniques for applying & controlling ink. $40 members/$60 nonmembers. Min. 6/Max. 12. For more information, please call (910)944-3979 or visit www.artistleague.org.

January 27 PRESCHOOL STORYTIME for infants and toddlers (ages birth through 5 years). 3:30-4 p.m. for stories, songs, and fun, and then stay for playtime! At The Southern Pines Public Library. For more information, please call (910)692-8235 or visit www.sppl.net.

January 28 NC SYMPHONY CONCERT - A NIGHT IN OLD (AND NEW) VIENNA. 8pm. William Henry Curry, Resident Conductor. Program includes J. Strauss Jr., Schoenberg, and Schubert. Pinecrest High School Auditorium, Southern Pines. For tickets and additional information, call the NC Symphony Box Office at (877)627-6724. BEGINNING SOFT PASTEL with Betty Hendrix

10 a.m.-3 p.m., Artists League of the Sandhills 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Learn basics of using pastels; get to know medium, papers, & framing. $30 members/$40 nonmembers. Min. 6/Max. 12. For more information, please call (910)944-3979 or visit www.artistleague.org

January 29 OIL PAINTING WATER REFLECTIONS with Eileen Strickland. 10 a.m.-3 p.m. Artists League of the Sandhills 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Techniques to create mirror reflections in water, create water sparkles, paint realistic rock formations, composition, values, & individual attention. $80 members/$100 nonmembers. Min. 6/Max. 12 For more information, please call (910)944-3979 or visit www.artistleague.org

January 30 FUNDRAISING CONCERT. Weymouth Center presents a fundraiser featuring Morgan Sills. Weymouth Center, Southern Pines. For more information., please call (910)692-6261 or visit www.weymouthcenter.org.

Art Galleries Art Gallery at the Market Place Restaurant Building at 2160 Midland Rd., Pinehurst, features original art by local artists Joan Williams, Deane Billings, Jeanette Sheehan, Mike D’Andrea, Janet Burdick, Nancy Yanchus, and Cele Bryant. Meet one of the artists Monday-Friday, 11 a.m.-2 p.m. (910)215-5963. Artist Alley features juried art and fine crafts from local and regional artists, 167 E. New Hampshire Ave.., Southern Pines. 11 a.m.-5 p.m., MondaySaturday. (910)692-6077. Artists League of the Sandhills, located at 129 Exchange St. in Historic Aberdeen. Exhibit hours are noon-3 p.m., Monday-Saturday. (910)944-3979. Broadhurst Gallery, 2212 Midland Rd., Pinehurst, showcases works by nationally recognized artists such as Louis St. Lewis, Lula Smith, Shawn Morin, Rachel Clearfield, Judy Cox, and Jason Craighead. Meet-theartist opportunities are available. Tuesday-Friday, 11 a.m.-5 p.m., and Saturday, 1-4 p.m. (910)295-4817, www.broadhurstgallery.com. The Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines, is open 9 a.m.-5 p.m., Monday-Friday, and every third weekend of the month from 2-4 p.m. (910)692-4356, www.mooreart.org. The Downtown Gallery (Inside Flynne’s Coffee Bar) is located at 115 NE Broad St. in Downtown

Key: Art Literature Children Dance Film Fun Health History Music Nature Speaker Sports Theater

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CA L E N DA R Southern Pines. Ever-changing array of local and regional art, pottery and other handmade items. (910) 693-1999 Hastings Gallery is located in the Katharine L. Boyd Library at Sandhills Community College, Pinehurst. Gallery hours are 7:45 a.m.-9 p.m., MondayThursday; 7:45 a.m.-5 p.m. Friday; and 8:30 a.m.-2 p.m. Saturday. Hollyhocks Art Gallery, 905 Linden Rd., Pinehurst, features original artwork by local artists Diane Kraudelt, Irene McFarland, Paula Montgomery, and artist/owner Jane Casnellie. 10:30 a.m. (910)2550665, www.janecasnellie.com. Lady Bedford’s Tea Parlour, located at 25 Chinquapin Rd. in the Village of Pinehurst, is featuring local artist Nancy Campbell. Original oil and watercolor paintings are on display. Open Tuesday Saturday 8 a.m. - 5 p.m. (910)255-0100 or www.ladybedfords.com Seagrove Candle Company, 116 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines, showcases the arts and crafts of the Sandhills and Seagrove area. Open 10 a.m.-5 p.m., Monday, Wednesday-Saturday, (910)695-0029. SKY Art Gallery, 602 Magnolia Dr., Aberdeen, is open 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Tuesday-Saturday. (910)9449440, www.skyartgallery.com. 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 handicapped-accessible. Daylight hours year-round. (910)695-3882.

Weymouth Woods Sandhills Nature Preserve (898 acres). 1024 Ft. Bragg Rd., Southern Pines. (910)692-2167.

Historical Sites Bethesda Church and Cemetery. Guided tours for groups by appointment. 1020 Bethesda Rd., Aberdeen. (910)944-1319. Bryant House and McLendon Cabin. Tours by appointment. (910)692-2051 or (910)673-0908. Carthage Historical Museum. Sundays, 2-5 p.m. or by appointment. Located at Rockingham and Saunders streets, Carthage. (910)947-2331. House in the Horseshoe. Open year-round. Hours vary. 288 Alston House Rd. (10 miles north of Carthage), Sanford. (910)947-2051. 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. 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 Ave., Southern Pines. (910)692-6261. Shaw House Property. 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. ———————————————————— To add an event, send us an e-mail at pinestraw@thepilot.com

PINENEEDLER ANSWERS

Puzzle answers from page 77 E N C A S E

W A L D O R F

E R A S U R E

S P R A L E C A C N E A N D P E E E R S

9 5 3 1 8 6 2 7 4

S K Y

D O D R P I S A T A L T S O N Y T N H T I I G H T H E L R E B

2 4 8 3 5 7 6 1 9

7 1 6 4 2 9 3 5 8

K A R A T

N I N T H

A G I S T

R O D

I R H O U N E Y

6 8 1 9 7 3 5 4 2

4 9 2 8 6 5 1 3 7

O T R Y E R I O R E O D E N I A F T H Y E H E T I L I D S M E E S S

3 7 5 2 1 4 8 9 6

1 2 7 5 9 8 4 6 3

S A N E R

U S E A B L M E E D D A R L A C F U A L N A

M I S D E A L

P A S D D T

O T T O M A N

H E W E R S

5 6 4 7 3 2 9 8 1

8 3 9 6 4 1 7 2 5

Look Good and Pay Much Less

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76

January 2010

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


January PineNeedler BY MART DICKERSON

National Soup Month ACROSS 1. Female sheep 5. Shoelace problem 9. ____ pump 13. Drug informant (alt. sp.) 14. Milk products 15. ___ Minor 16. Kind of tennis court 17. Grumpiness 19. Infomercials, e.g. 20 "Dang!" 21. Mountain nymph 22. 1st line of January message 25. Globular 27. Mistakes 28. Animal house 30. Boy 31. Fuzzy fabric 32. Opera highlight 34. Thaw 35. 2nd part of message 38. Agile 41. Fastidious 42. Taro 45. Dugan’s or O’Donnell's offer 46. Great Britain wellness service (abv.)

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

2

3

4

6. Final baseball inning 7. Bauxite, e.g. 8. Apprentice 9. More rational 10. Functional 11. Card game error 12. ___ de deux 14. Posterior part of the body 18. “Pumping ___” 20. “Likewise” 23. Cerebral ____ (paralysis) 24. Enlighten, make understand 26. Banned insecticide 29. “Dig in!” 32. A discriminator of the elderly 33. “Spare the ___, spoil the child” 34. Purple Heart, i.e. 36. To the ___ degree 37. Buy a high pair at Monkee’s 38. Amniotic ___ 39. Personal electronic day calendar 40. Ebbs 43. Blood-sucking count

5

13

14

16

17

19

47. 3rd line in message (or a fireplace) 49. Desert bloomers 51. Excite 54. Young’s Rd pasture sound 56. Clears 57. “Don't have a ___, man!” 58. Last line of message 60. Seethe with anger 61. Leave in a hurry, with “out” 62. Primitive magic marks or signs 63. Winglike 64. Scottish or Irish Gaelic 65. Ottoman empire governors 66. Grandmas Down DOWN 1. Protect, in a museum 2. _____Astoria Hotel 3. Deletion by a pencil 4. Blue hue 5. Jewelry unit

1

6

28

27 31

32

40

45

30 34 37

41

42

43

51 55

52

48

53

56

57 60

59

61

62

63

64

65

66

Puzzle answers on page 76

44

47

58

44. Stool to put the feet up 46. Approaching, old fashioned-wise 47. Pelts 48. Lumberjacks 50. Deed 52. Sarcasm, and/or satire 53. Eras 55. Basil, e.g. 58. “Tarzan” extra 59. A shade or tint of color 60. Sports follower

12

26

29

36

50 54

11

25

33

46

49

10

21 24

35

9

18

23

39

8

15

20

22

38

7

9 2 3 8

6 4 8

8 2

6 8 2 7 1 3 5 5 1 5 3 9 8 7 6

5 7 6 3 2 4 7 6 8 2 3

Sudoku Fill in the grid so every row, every column and every 3x3 box contain the numbers 1-9.

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January 2010

77


THOUGHTS FROM THE MAN SHED

When We Were Still Young A house, a road, and a family

BY GEOFF CUTLER

He wouldn’t close the car door before

he had one of his lawn mowers out of the barn. He had two. One yellow and one green. We didn’t know how he decided which one to use. The mufflers on both were rusted out and the mowers were loud. His weekend always began with mowing and the smell of fresh-cut grass would rise as we ran around and my mother unpacked the car. Some memories are stronger than others. We were still a young family then, and there are enough fragments to tell some of a story. A stone wall lined the dirt road that ran in from town. Each rock was river-bottom round, and as you came up to our place, you could smell fresh cut hay strong in your nose. A cut in the wall and tire lanes on either side of a grass strip circled up from the road past the barn. The farm house was small, a white clapboard with black shutters. Most of the time, it just sat quietly, awaiting our return. In our absence, New England weather would visit occasionally and batter its exterior. Much later, we would become like that little house. Patient and at ease doing nothing. Not wishing to confront, but steady and able to withstand a storm. Across the road and out in a field, another barn had fallen in on itself; a haphazard pile of old grey board, cracked by the sun. We played there, climbing around the tangled mess, and it thrilled us. This, and the lake, and an old upturned stump which formed a cave, and the trails around our house. These things outdoors were our television, our video games and our babysitter. The older children would scold us littler ones if we got too careless around jutting nails and other hazards of the broken-down barn. And as the sun set behind us, our mother would call, and we ran. He had taken some of the big, round rocks from the wall and built a stone fireplace under the shade of Sugar maples. He liked to cook outside. Hamburgers and hot-dogs with toasted rolls at lunch and steak for dinner. He used wood to light the fire and it took time. Not charcoal or gas. He used wood and it took time

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January 2010

and we watched him and breathed in the wonderful smell and asked him questions. He was good at this and we wanted to do it someday. My mother made salads and baked potatoes to go with the meat. We called them New Hampshire salads, a conglomeration of fresh and leftover vegetables, all stirred up with ketchup and mayonnaise and allowed to congeal for a couple of hours in the icebox. Some things you pack with you and take into adulthood. We packed these salads. We cross-cut our potatoes, and scooped out the insides so we could fill the empty skins with butter, salt and pepper. We ate them quick while they were still piping hot, and the melted butter ran down our chins. Sometimes his two children from a previous marriage were with us. They were really old. They drove their own cars and had a boyfriend or a wife, or the other way around. Who can remember now? We sat at a long wooden table, etched and grooved by our life together. With the older ones around, there was more cigarette smoke and drink, and we little ones adored the older ones. By candlelight and under the haze of smoke and a low ceiling, we were all together. And then my mother looked at the two or three youngest and said, “Kiss everyone goodnight,” and we were scuttled off to the bunkroom. The house had no modern heat and we curled down under the cedar scented wool blankets, and when the lamps were turned off, we watched the lights from the fire dance across the wall. We understood only good then, and sleep came fast and easy. In the morning, he woke impossibly early. He’d shuffle about outside our room until he could stand it no more. Then he would come in and wake us and say to hurry up and get dressed. He wanted his paper. And like faithful followers, we would arise and go with him back down the dirt road to town. “GoodyGoody Gumdrops,” we would chant as the old Woody rose and fell on the hills. Because at the general store where he would get his paper, maybe more milk, we would stick our hands into the penny candy jars for lollypops and Atomic Fireballs. On the way back, the car smelled of cinnamon and his Bay Rhum. And if it was winter, and snow covered the road, he’d say, “We should probably do a little coasting this afternoon.” For us, this didn’t mean going down a hill the traditional way. He would hitch a rope off the back of his Lincoln and tie it to our toboggan. He’d stick all six of us on the toboggan with the littlest of us squeezed in between the bigger kids. He and our mother turned up the heat in the car. Maybe they sat close and had a sip of something. And down the road we’d go again. Some of us called him Pop and some of us called him Dad. We whooped and yelled as the snow whirled about and got stuck in our hair, our mittens and our eyes, and it didn’t matter. He was father to us all. PS Geoff Cutler is owner of Cutler Tree LLC in Southern Pines. He is a regular contributor to both The Pilot and PineStraw. He can be reached at geoffcutler@embarqmail.com.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills


Resale Retail Retail Resale


S O U T H WO R D S

BY LAURA FEDER

Dear Older Generation,

I miss you; may I come visit soon? I’ve been so consumed by the hustle and bustle of college that I have forgotten you. All the young, adolescent faces of my peers blur together in my mind so that now I can barely remember yours. Slowly, though everything about you is making its way back to my memory. I miss the crow’s feet around your eyes and the laugh lines that frame your smile. I miss watching you put curlers in your hair, and begging you to put them in mine. I miss laughing at your white hair turning green when you would play in the pool with me. It’s become so rare to see a face like yours in my daily life, and I miss it. Just the other day, during my weekly grocery run for more 49cent Ramen Noodles, I saw a man about your age deciding between two boxes of Hamburger Helper. My world was shaken up a bit, and then I began to wonder: Does he know he’s the only one of his kind? Does he have any friends? Are they college students? Maybe he dates a sorority house-mother. Oh, I know, he must be a professor. It’s so weird to see teachers outside the classroom. They just look naked without their podium, mug of coffee, and power point clicker. And then, I’m caught staring — awkward. As I drive the 5-hour-long trek home to you, my mind has time to reset and prepare itself for old people, lots of old people. As I rush back to Moore County, going about 79 on cruise control up Interstate 85, I laugh out loud thinking about my memories of you from high school. I would get so worked up as I tailed your bumper because you had obviously decided the speed limit was 15 miles per hour when the sign clearly read 35. It’s funny how being away from you for so long, in a world much different from yours, can make me finally appreciate the charm of an older generation. And the more I come home to visit, the more I begin to appreciate you. In my recent stays, you have seemed much less like a generation gap, and more like a mirror of my old soul. It’s true, just growing up around you has tuned my heart far beyond my years. You taught me to value the relationship and similarities I share with my grandparents. My last visit home may have been my favorite. I will never forget that morning I attended Sunday school with my grandmother. I was clearly the only one under the age of 50 in a room full of ladies. None of which were really acting their age. Only a few minutes after we had entered the room, Dottie Buxton pulled out her savvy digital camera to snap a picture of my grand-

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January 2010

mother and me. She rolled her walker to the side, asked us to pose, and, “Click!” I received the photo in the mail today. We all sat down in a circle of chairs and began that morning’s discussion — the discussion was miracles. “Have you ever experienced a miracle?” asked a cheery British woman named Wendy. She had just told us a miracle about her horse, Lollipop, and the chemotherapy it would soon be receiving in its eye. “Me?” I said, as she leaned towards me and looked me straight in the eyes with a kind smile. I continued, “Well, um, I’m sure I have.” “Well then, come on, tell us!” The whole room was now encouraging me. Immediately nervous that I had never experienced a miracle, I continued with the first thing that popped into my mind—college, naturally. And without truly doing it justice, I explained how much I honestly loved college. Not a great surprise to anyone who has actually attended one. Several pairs of eyes, framed with the same crow’s feet as my grandmother’s, stared at me intently from around the room. Then, my own eyes began to water. I opened them wider to keep tears from streaming down my face. My very own miracle began to take shape as the words were pouring out of my mouth. “Loving to come home is a miracle to me,” I said. When I am off at college, overwhelmed by all-nighters and throwing back espresso shots to make it through class the next day — beginning the second half of the winter term — I miss just being near you. Your sweet face and open arms are such a relief to a weary college girl. But what I love most about you, Generation O, are those moments you patiently fade into the background, allowing a girl like me to forget she is the youngest in a room by about 30 years. So, thank you. I look in the mirror these days and see the memory I have of you in my own face. I may not be gray around the temples, but the glow I have in my freckled cheeks comes from knowing you. I will do my best to continue cherishing our friendship, but please write often. Happy New Year, Grandmother! You keep me young, Laura PS Laura is a junior at the University of Georgia. This is her first piece for PineStraw.

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Illustration by Pamela Powers January

A New Years Letter to Generation O


4BRs, 4BAs. 3800+ sq.ft.Located one mile from the Village of Pinehurst, Pinewild Country Club is a gracious and private gated community offering the tranquility of lakeside and golf course living. REDUCED! $700,000. Call Rebecca 910-315-4141. REBECCA CUMMINGS 910-315-4141 EMMY WEBSTER 910-639-3520 KIM STOUT 910-528-2008 MARGRET ENDRIGAT 910-690-8025 www.internationalrealtyspecialists.com

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100 Camberly Lane, Aberdeen, NC NEED SOME GROWING ROOM? Built for the times, this lovely home offers close to 2,800' of living area on two levels. The master bedroom suite and two additional bedrooms, a second bathroom, the living room, with gas log fireplace, dining room, separated from the living room by decorative columns, and an eat-in kitchen are located on the first level. Upstairs, you'll find an office/den, a play area, a huge family room & a full bath. Outside there are two fenced areas in the backyard and covered porches on the front and back of the house. A walk-in attic and two car garage add ample storage areas to this fabulous home. MLS #134471. $269,900. 910-690-4236

FOR YOUR PERSONAL TOUR OF THIS FINE HOME,

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Pinewild golf front, large yard, porches, hardwood flooring, large kitchen with golf view from eating area, Pinewild membership included in price. $765,000

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JOHN BULLARD 910-419-2420 WWW.PINEHURSTLUXURYPROPERTIES.COM

Fabulous home Southern Pines Home! Beautiful features - Hardwood & Tile Floors, 4 Bedrooms, 3 baths, Bonus Room, Lovely Fenced Yard, Big Screened Porch. #397,000. 3000+ Sq. Ft. Built in 2005! MLS 134570

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