January PineStraw 2020 by PineStraw Magazine

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January �� FEATURES 73 Musings on Fitness Poetry by Laura Lomax

86 A Leap of Faith

74 The Son Also Rises

By Bill Fields A steady hand guides the Pinehurst Resort

78 The Best of the Beasts

By Deborah Salomon Or, how to buy a white elephant, inside unseen

94 Almanac

By Ash Alder

By Bill Case A Sandhills Hall of Fame for extraordinary animals

82 Second Act

By Bill Case How socialist politician Robert Hunter made the jump to celebrated golf course architect

DEPARTMENTS

19 22 25 27 31 35 37 41 43 45 49 53 55 57 58 63 65 69 104 113 117 119 120

Simple Life By Jim Dodson PinePitch Good Natured By Karen Frye The Omnivorous Reader By Stephen E. Smith Bookshelf Pleasures of Life Dept. By Jenna Biter Drinking with Writers By Wiley Cash Hometown By Bill Fields In the Spirit By Tony Cross The Kitchen Garden By Jan Leitschuh True South By Susan S. Kelly Crossroads By Claudia Watson Out of the Blue By Deborah Salomon Mom Inc. By Renee Whitmore Sandhills Photo Club Birdwatch By Susan Campbell Sporting Life By Tom Bryant Golftown Journal By Lee Pace Arts & Entertainment Calendar SandhillSeen PineNeedler By Mart Dickerson The Accidental Astrologer By Astrid Stellanova Southwords By Beth MacDonald

Cover Illustration by Harry Blair 6

January 2020 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Opulence of Southern Pines and DUXIANA at The Mews, 280 NW Broad Street, Downtown Southern Pines, NC 910.692.2744

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WHERE EXCELLENCE LIVES

210 Quail Hollow Drive Country Club of North Carolina, Pinehurst

55 Pine Valley Circle Country Club of North Carolina, Pinehurst

Beautiful all brick home featuring huge rooms, large rec room, kitchen with family room and double sided fireplace, Carolina room - plus over an acre home site with a private well.

Beautifully renovated, all brick custom built home on 2.2 acres with 4 fireplaces, formal dining and living rooms, office, family room and first floor master suite with screened porch.

3 Bedrooms, 4.5 Baths, 4,000+ Sq.Ft. MLS# 195511 $479,000

5 Bedrooms, 5.5 Baths, 4,500+ Sq.Ft. MLS# 197422 $825,000

List With The Leader!

We sell more homes than any other agency in Moore County. Our agents are the most knowledgeable, most experienced, and we never forget who is #1: YOU!

1,013 Houses Sold

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289

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Closed Sales January through December 4, 2019 from Mid Carolina Regional Association of REALTORSÂŽ

130 Turner St, Southern Pines, NC 28387 100 Magnolia Road, Pinehurst, NC 28374

10 Village Green Road, Old Town $2,989,999 MLS 182223 Emily Hewson 910-315-3093 Pamela O’Hara 910-315-3324

“Original Schoolhouse” built in 1898. Totally renovated with attention to quality detail. 1st fairway #2 golf course. Detached 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom garage apartment. 5 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms.

2310 Midland Road, Pinehurst

150 Crest Road, Southern Pines

$2,500,000 MLS 192774 Pamela O’Hara 910-315-3093

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to own one of the largest pieces of property in Pinehurst. 16.74-acres within minutes of the Village. 4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms.

$1,400,000 MLS 193355 Jennifer Nguyen 910-585-2099 Karen Iampietro 910-690-7098

Chimbley House: c1922 has been completely renovated into an elegant updated home. Surrounded by a spectacular garden. Private but minutes from downtown. 5 bedrooms, 4/1 bathrooms.

11 Oxton Circle, Pinewild Country Club

233 Gails Road, McLendon Hills

178 Lost Trail Drive, McLendon Hills

Gorgeous French Country Home in Pinewild Country Club. Over 6,000 sqft on lovely grounds. 4 bedrooms, 6/1 bathrooms.

Stunning custom home on over 4 acres in McLendon Hills. Gorgeous open floorplan overlooking infinity pool. Separate in-law/ guest cottage, workshop, and garage. 5 bedrooms, 4/1 bathrooms.

Peaceful horse farm and certified wildlife habitat. Custom home with wrap around porch, main floor master suite, and basement. 4 stall barn, riding area, and private trails. 4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms.

70 Laurel Road, Old Town

28 Middlebury, Forest Creek

1792 Bailey Thomas Road, Sanford

$949,000 MLS 195762 Kay Beran 910-315-3322 Pat Wright 910-691-3224

$825,000 MLS 196039 Emily Hewson 910-315-3093 Pamela O’Hara 910-315-3324

Own a special part of Pinehurst history: “Pine Villa.” Original Tufts Cottage built in 1896. One block from the heart of the Village of Pinehurst. 5 bedrooms, 4/1 bathrooms.

$919,000 MLS 193708 Jennifer Nguyen 910-585-2099

$899,000 MLS 196830 Jennifer Nguyen 910-585-2099

$799,000 MLS 190504 Kay Beran 910-315-3322

Forest Creek golf front home with impressive interiors and superb outdoor areas. Covered patios and decks overlooking the north course. 4 bedrooms, 4/1 bathrooms.

$750,000 MLS 196450 Casey Barbera 910-639-4266 Tia Chick 910-489-6800

Equestrian property on almost 60 acres. A beautifully updated all brick home with light filled open rooms, a stall center aisle barn, covered arena, and much more. 3 bedrooms, 2/1 bathrooms.

370 Breezy Pines Lane, Breezy Pines Farm

5 Furlong Place, Pinehurst

6 Meadowlark Lane, Pinehurst

Gorgeous home in Breezy Pines Farm, an equestrian community with only 5 homesites, on 11.63-acres in Carthage. Privacy galore. Very spacious home. 4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms.

Amazing home with abundant living space. Four bedrooms on main level with bonus and bath on second level. Located on a quiet culde-sac in Pinehurst. 5 bedrooms, 3/1 bathrooms.

Custom brick home with PCC membership close to the village of Pinehurst. Located in quiet cul-de-sac. High ceilings, fireplace. 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms.

$467,000 MLS 196273 Pamela O’Hara 910-315-3093

$389,900 MLS 197493 Deb Darby 910-783-5193

Pinehurst Office • 42 Chinquapin Road

•

Pinehurst, NC 28374

$358,000 MLS 196070 Deb Darby 910-783-5193

•

910 –295 –5504

B H H S P R G .C O M

50 Lagorce Plave, CCNC

104 South McNeil Street, Carthage

18 Lasswade Drive, Pinewild Country Club

The perfect retreat on approximately 1.4-acres. Great split floor plan with two ensuite bedrooms and walk-in closets. Ready to move in! Best value in the neighborhood. 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms.

Old Carthage Fire Department. Great opportunity to own a commercial building and a piece of Carthage history in downtown Carthage!

Excellent golf front building lot. View of #16 fairway of the Magnolia Course. Inquire with Pinewild Country Club regarding club membership availability.

$259,000 MLS 196663 Cathy Breeden 910-639-0433

$198,830 MLS 193691 Pamela O’Hara 910-315-3093

Southern Pines Office

•

167 Beverly Lane

•

Southern Pines, NC 28387

$74,000 MLS 194905 Cathy Breeden 910-639-0433

•

910 – 692–2635

Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.

Private Woodland retreat

M A G A Z I N E Volume 16, No. 1 David Woronoff, Publisher Jim Dodson, Editor

910.693.2506 • jim@pinestrawmag.com

Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director

910.693.2467 • andie@pinestrawmag.com

Jim Moriarty, Senior Editor

910.692.7915 • jjmpinestraw@gmail.com

Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer

910.693.2508 • alyssa@pinestrawmag.com

Lauren M. Coffey, Graphic Designer

910.693.2469 • lauren@pinestrawmag.com CONTRIBUTING EDITORS

Deborah Salomon, Staff Writer Mary Novitsky, Sara King, Proofreaders CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

John Koob Gessner, Laura Gingerich, Tim Sayer CONTRIBUTORS Tom Allen, Harry Blair, Tom Bryant, Susan Campbell, Bill Case, Wiley Cash, Tony Cross, Brianna Rolfe Cunningham, Mart Dickerson, Clyde Edgerton, Bill Fields, Laurel Holden, Jane Lear, Jan Leitschuh, Meridith Martens, D.G. Martin, Lee Pace, Romey Petite, Renee Whitmore, Joyce Reehling, Scott Sheffield, Stephen E. Smith, Astrid Stellanova, Angie Tally, Kimberly Taws, Ashley Wahl

5 Merion Place • CCNC • Pinehurst The woodland setting for this rambling, fun-filled home offers privacy, plenty of lawn for play and woods with trails for walking from this beautiful 5 acre lot. A 2007 total renovation created a 5500 sq ft home with two separate living areas, each fireplace centered, with lofty ceilings, hardwood floors, built in bookcases and loads of charm. The downstairs master is balanced by a large, other downstairs bedroom or workout room. The formal dining and living rooms are functioning perfectly as his and her offices. The spacious family room houses the kitchen, pantry, a back stairway, generous dining space, and living room with stacked stone fireplace flanked by French doors to a covered back porch. 4 BR, 4.2 BA, full guest apt above the 3 car garage, and bonus play space in main house as well. New Listing, New Price $899,000

To view more photos, take a virtual tour or schedule a showing, go to:

www.clarkpropertiesnc.com

Maureen Clark when experience matters

Pinehurst • Southern Pines BHHS Pinehurst Realty Group • 910.315.1080 ©2015 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of American, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC.

ADVERTISING SALES

Ginny Trigg, Advertising Director 910.693.2481 • ginny@thepilot.com Terry Hartsell, 910.693.2513 Perry Loflin, 910.693.2514 Dacia Burch, 910.693.2519 Patty Thompson, 910.693.3576 Samantha Cunningham, 910.693.2505 ADVERTISING GRAPHIC DESIGN

Mechelle Butler, Scott Yancey

Steve Anderson, Finance Director 910.693.2497 Darlene Stark, Circulation Director 910.693.2488 SUBSCRIPTIONS

910.693.2488

OWNERS

Jack Andrews, Frank Daniels Jr., Frank Daniels III, Lee Dirks, David Woronoff 145 W. Pennsylvania Avenue, Southern Pines, NC 28387 www.pinestrawmag.com ©Copyright 2020. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. PineStraw magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

January 2020 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

123 Pinefield Court • Southern Pines

The residence, located off Midland Road, offers gated privacy with over 8 acres of woodlands. Highlights include 5 bedrooms, 6 baths, theater room, 3 car garage, spacious wine cellar, billiard room and outdoor kitchen. Offered at $2,250,000

451 Old Mail Road • Southern Pines

The jewel of Moore County’s horse country, Fox Hollow Farm is secluded on 10.52 acres with easy access to thousands of acres of equestrian land. 4BR, 4.5BA 5,276 sf. Offered at $2,200,000

Maureen Clark

910.315.1080 • www.clarkproperties.com

14 Cumberland • Forest Creek • Pinehurst

16 Birkdale Drive • Forest Creek • Pinehurst

Poised on 2.45 acres in the exclusive Forest Creek Golf Club, this elegant residence exhibits design perfection in the concept of one-floor-living. 3BR, 3/2BA. 4,787 sf. Offered at $1,550,000

Extraordinary, custom built home nestled on quiet cul-de-sac in prestigious Forest Creek Golf Club. Built 2017, 4 BR, 4.5 BA, magnificent kitchen, upscale appliances, 3 car garage, main floor master, 4090 sq ft. $825,000

70 Lake Dornoch • pinehurst

155 SW Lake Forest Drive • Pinehurst

This one-story residence on the 17th hole of the Dogwood Course enjoys a premier location. Formal living & dining, 4 BR, 4 BA, and a game room create the perfect golf retreat. Offered at $725,000

Everything you can imagine in lakeside living is offered in this deceptively generous Lake Pinehurst home. 4BR, 4.5BA, 4,497 sf. Offered at $875,000.

Berkshire Hathaway HomeSercies and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.Housing Opportunity.

OPEN NOW

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There are over 600 Real Estate agents in Moore County. Amy Stonesifer is among the top 5.

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Southern Pines, NC 28387

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Serving Moore County and Surrounding Areas! 910.684.8674 | 120 N ASHE ST | SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28387

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MLS 194958 106 BLUEGRASS COURT Aberdeen, NC • $292,500

MLS 194285 200 AIKEN ROAD $415,000

MLS 197321 125 RILEY LANE Cameron, NC • $259,000

MLS 195429 10 HAMPSHIRE LANE $290,000

NEW LISTING

MLS 197623 455 PALISADES DRIVE Aberdeen, NC • $309,500

MLS 196069 216 VANDERBUILT COURT Aberdeen, NC • $302,250

MLS 194850 107 BLUEGRASS COURT Aberdeen, NC • $296,250

MLS 197046 407 PALISADES DRIVE Aberdeen, NC • $292,500

MLS 194850 107 BLUEGRASS COURT $296,250

MLS 197094 118 LOCH LANE Cameron, NC • $270,900

MLS 191168 660 E MASSACHUSETTS AVENUE $625,000

MLS 189495 165 E NEW JERSEY AVENUE $372,000

MLS 195534 104 PREAKNESS COURT $285,000

MLS 197045 401 PALISADES DRIVE Aberdeen, NC • $292,500

MLS 196375 1220 BURNING TREE ROAD Pinehurst, NC • $340,000

MLS 194920 113 BLUEGRASS COURT Aberdeen, NC • $270,500

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SIMPLE LIFE

For the Time Being To count the hours . . . or make them count

By Jim Dodson

My office over the garage, which I fondly call the

“Tree House,” is a place where time stands still, in a manner of speaking, something of a museum for dusty artifacts and funky souvenirs that followed me home from six decades of traveling journalism. Among them is a collection of wristwatches that accompanied me most of the way. They’re part of what I call Uncle Jimmy Bob’s Museum of Genuine & Truly Unremarkable Stuff.

Most unremarkably (if you know me), many of the watches are broken or simply worn out from the misfortune of being attached to my person. Suffice it to say, I have a history of being tough on timepieces, having cracked more watch crystals than I can count, and either lost or damaged half a dozen of these loyal beauties by various means. I suspect that a good shrink could have a field day with the fact that all these defunct watches are the same model and brand — the famous Timex Expedition models, an outdoors icon known for its durability and rustic beauty. You can blame black-and-white television for this unholy devotion. See, when I was a little kid and the TV world was not yet in living color — I was a highly impressionable son of a successful advertising executive, it should be noted — my favorite commercial was a spot for Timex watches in which suave company pitchman John Cameron Swayze subjected Timex watches to a series of live “torture tests” in order to prove that the durable timepiece could “take a licking and keep on ticking.” To this day I remember watching slugger Mickey Mantle wearing his Timex during batting practice. Other favorites included watches freed from solid blocks of ice by a wielded hammer, also dropped to the bottom of fish tanks for hours or put through the washing machine cycle, even attached to the bow of a roaring speedboat! In fifth grade, I actually wrote a research paper on Timex watches, learning that the company started in 1854 in Waterbury, Connecticut, producing an affordable six-dollar clock using an assembly line process that may have inspired Henry Ford to do the same with cars half a century later. The company made its name by selling durable pocket watches for one dollar. Even Mark Twain carried one. During the Great Depression, they also introduced the first Mickey Mouse watch. I received my first Timex watch for Christmas in 1966 and wore it faithfully everywhere — to bed, to baseball practice, even to Scout Camp where I took it off to do the mile swim and never saw it again, the start of a tradition.

The next one I owned was an Expedition model purchased for about 25 bucks with lawn-mowing money. I wore that sucker all the way through high school, occasionally losing and finding it in unexpected places while putting it through the kind of personal abuse that would have made me a natural for Timex TV spots. For high school graduation, my folks gave me an elegant Seiko watch, a sleek Japanese quartz model that never needed winding and kept perfect time but never felt right on my wrist. I have no idea what happened to that lovely timepiece. Or at least I ain’t telling. By the end of college, I was safely back to Timex Expeditions, the cheap and durable watch that would accompany me — one lost or broken model at a time — across the next four decades. I mention this because a month or so ago, during a particularly busy stretch, I misplaced my longest-running Expedition and, feeling it might be the end of time or at least civilization as we know it, impetuously ordered a replacement model from the internet with guaranteed 24-hour delivery . . . only to discover, the very day the new watch arrived, that the missing watch was under my car seat all along, keeping perfect time. God only knows how it got there. But the message wasn’t lost on me. Why do I need anything delivered within 24 hours? Instead, perhaps it’s time to slow down and pay attention to what is already happening here and now, to pause and take notice of the simple things that give my life its greatest purpose and meaning. The start of a new year is a time when many of us pause to take stock of how far we’ve come this year and may be headed in the year to come. After a certain age, the question of how to make use of whatever time we have left to do the things we still hope — or need — to do is also on our minds. Yet in modern America, “where time is money,” most of us live by the silent tyranny of the ticking clock, obsessed with achieving deadlines and keeping schedules. With no time to waste, we put everything on the clock or at least mark it down in the Day-Timer, making helpful “To-Do” lists and dinner reservations, planning holidays a year in advance, booking flights to warmer seas, appointments with the decorator or therapist, paying the mortgage on time, picking up the kids at 3 —all of it shaped by, and subject to, the hopeless idea of saving time. Someone, my late Grandmother Taylor liked to say, is always waiting beneath the clock for a child to be born, a life to pass on, a decision to be made or a verdict to be rendered. A proper Southern Baptist lady who knew the Scriptures cold but enjoyed her evening toddy, she often told me, “Child, for the time being, you’re on God’s time. This is heaven.” A nice thought, but just to complicate matters on the planetary scale, there’s the shadow of the infamous Doomsday Clock to contend with, the symbolic

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2020

SIMPLE LIFE

timepiece created by the world’s concerned scientists that chillingly charts the steady devolvement of the planet’s environmental and nuclear climates. In 2019, the minute hand was moved forward to two minutes to midnight. So what happens next? Presumably, God only knows that, too. When it comes to contemplating the passing of time, I often think about the month “out of time” my wife and young son and I spent following our noses through rural Italy and the Greek Islands with no firm travel agenda or even hotel reservations. We met an extraordinary range of unforgettable characters and ate like gypsy kings. We swam in ancient seas, probed temple ruins and disappeared into another time, discovering a race of people who happily ignore the clock if it involves the chance for an interesting conversation about life, food or family. For the time being, it really was heaven. Somewhere along the way, I managed to lose yet another Expedition watch — but failed to notice for several days. To us, a siesta between noon and 3 p.m. would be unthinkable in the heart of an ordinary work day, generally viewed as either a costly indulgence or colossal waste of time. Yet in Italy, Spain and many Arab cultures, the idea of pausing to take rest and recharge batteries in the midst of a busy day is viewed as a sensible restorative act, a way to slow down and keep perspective in a world forever speeding up. From the mystical East, my Buddhist friends perceive time as an endless cycle of beginning and ending, life and death and rebirth, time that is fluid and forever moving toward some greater articulation of what it means to be human. Native American spirituality embraces a similar idea of the sacred hoop of life, a cycle of rebirth that prompted Chief Seattle to remark that we humans struggle with life not because we’re human beings trying to be spiritual, but the other way around. A version of this quote is also attributed to French Jesuit priest and philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, proving great souls think alike, even in different languages.

How ironic, in any case, that a booming West Coast city that is home to timesaving megaliths of commerce like Amazon, Starbucks, Costco and Microsoft is named for a man who lovingly presaged, decades ahead of his time, that we humans essentially belong to the Earth and not the other way around, and that, in time, when the last tree falls and final river is poisoned, we will finally learn that we cannot eat money or replace whatever is forever lost in time. Fearing his own time brief on this planet, Transcendentalist Henry Thoreau went to live by Walden Pond “because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” I hold a similar desire close to my own aging heart, though in the short-term I sure would like to finish a trio of half-written novels I’ve been cobbling on for years, write a few more books about subjects that greatly interest me, and maybe — if there’s any time leftover — build a cabin in the Blue Ridge like the one my late papa and I always talked about “someday” building together. For the record, just for fun, I’d also like to learn to speak Italian, play the piano and spend a full summer exploring the fjords and forests of Scandinavia with my wife. So much to do. So little time to do it. That seems to be our fate. At least mine. On golden autumn afternoons and quiet winter days, however, I swear I can almost hear Chief Seattle, Father De Chardin and Grandma Taylor whispering to me that we are all living on God’s Time, wise to wake up and slow down and live fully in the now as we journey into a brave new decade, hopefully appreciating the many gifts of time and its precious brevity. For the time being, I now have two fine Expedition watches that can take a licking and keep on ticking. Though how long I can do the same, goodness me, only time will tell. PS Contact Editor Jim Dodson at jim@thepilot.com.

Lin gets Results!

ENERGY. EXPERIENCE. EFFORT. 20

Lin Hutaff’s PineHurst reaLty GrouP Village of Pinehurst | 910.528.6427 | linhutaff@pinehurst.net

If Pinehurst has it, Lin can get it for you! Go to LinHutaff. com

405 BEULAH HILL RD • OLD TOWN Buy a piece of History! “Boxwood Cottage” 2.6 acres. No one has put more time, talent and treasure in restoring this beautiful structure as the current owners. 5BD, 5 ½ BA. Offered at $2,250,000.

190 MIDLAND RD • PINEHURST NO 2 “Blue Shutter Cottage”. Historic home on the famed No 2 Course, as comfortable after golf or riding as it is for a formal affair. Layered in French and Italian aesthetics including Venetian plastered walls and ceilings. Dream kitchen. Offered at $1,550,000.

14 GREYABBEY DR • PINEWILD STUNNING, golf front contemporary home with walls of glass from ceiling to floor. Amazing gourmet kitchen boasts Miele and Thermador appliances, plus Miele stainless Hood. Superb. 5BD, 4 1/2BA. Offered at $795,000.

91 SAKONNET TRAIL • PINEHURST NO 6 Spectacular property. Custom, all brick, with French doors and walls of glass showcasing cobalt blue, in-ground, salt water pool. Gourmet kitchen with Bertazzoni, dual fuel gas range. Fenced yard. 4BD, 4 ½ BA. Offered at $675,000.

49 GLASGOW DR • PINEWILD Sensational contemporary home like no other in the gated community of Pinewild Country Club. Gourmet kitchen opens to large family area overlooking patio, golf course. 3BD, 3 ½ BA. Offered at $665,000.

16 APPIN COURT • PINEWILD Sensational, GOLF FRONT, Pinewild home tucked away on a quiet cul-de-sac. Stunning home with walls of windows. The handsome kitchen with access to deck overlooking longleaf pines, small stream and 11th hole of the Holly Course. 5BD, 3BA. Offered at $597,000.

235 HEARTHSTONE RD • FAIRWOODS ON 7 1st hole of Pinehurst No 7 Golf Course. Updated home with hardwood flooring, new kitchen etc. Focal point of home is the family room open to handsome kitchen and fabulous open porch. 3BD, 2BA. Offered at $575,000.

5717 NC HIGHWAY 22 Country living on 2 1/2 acres with STUNNING, CUSTOM, all brick home and handsome ‘’Carriage House’’. Just bring your suitcases! Price includes well appointed, beautiful furnishings for weekend home or year-round living. 4BD, 4 ½ BA Offered at $542,000.

90 E MCCASKILL RD • OLD TOWN 1.02 ACRES in the heart of OLD TOWN Pinehurst. ‘’Cottage’’ Ranch home lovingly cared for by owner for over 30 years. LOT extends from the corner of McCaskill Rd and Culdee to the corner of Culdee and Barrett Rd. 3BD, 3B 1/2BA. Offered at $495,000.

3 HOLLY KNOLL CT • PINEHURST Lake Pinehurst Area! Built by premier builder for personal residence with all the extras expected in builder’s own home. Gourmet kitchen, deep molding, Pella windows and heated workshop in garage. 3BD, 3 ½ BA. Dream Gourmet kitchen. Offered at $489,000.

2 GAMBEL CT LAKE • PINEHURST AREA 9 FOREST LANE - PINEHURST Better than new construction. Beautiful home on ONE OF THE PREMIER GOLF FRONT LOTS IN PINEHURST. cul-de-sec in the desirable Lake Pinehurst Area, soaring Exceptional property! Home sits on oversized lot surrounded by fairways on 3 sides. Views are magnifi- ceilings, gleaming hardwood floors, first floor Master Suite, FENCED YARD. 4BD, 2 ½ BA. cent! Floor to ceiling windows enhance natural light and Offered at $347,000. panoramic views. Deck across back of home. 3BD, 2BA. Offered at $399,000.

ENERGY. EXPERIENCE. EFFORT.

Lin Hutaff’s PineHurst reaLty GrouP Village of Pinehurst | 910.528.6427 | linhutaff@pinehurst.net

PinePitch

Watch the Birdie Discover strategies to attract birds to your backyard, including information on feeders and types of food, in a program at Weymouth Woods-Sandhills Nature Preserve, 1024 Fort Bragg Road in Southern Pines, on Sunday, Jan. 12, at 3 p.m. You may even learn how to scare a crow or two. For information call (910) 692-2167 or go to www.ncparks.gov.

Artistic Pioneers Author and lecturer Vivian R. Jacobson pairs Marc Chagall and Elvis Presley — innovators in their respective fields — in a presentation at the Bradshaw Performing Arts Center, Owens Auditorium, 3395 Airport Road in Pinehurst, at 7 p.m. on Wednesday, Jan. 9. Tickets can be purchased at www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Jammin’ the Beat Bring an instrument and a love of music to a jam session and song circle on Tuesday, Jan. 28, at 6 p.m., at the Weymouth Center for the Arts and Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. It’s free and open to the public. For more information call (910) 6926261 or go to www.weymouthcenter.org.

The Phil Does Films The Carolina Philharmonic Orchestra will present music from the Golden Age of Film at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday, Jan. 18, at the Bradshaw Performing Arts Center, Owens Auditorium, Sandhills Community College, 3395 Airport Road, in Pinehurst. For more information call (910) 687-0287 or visit www.carolinaphil.org.

Lecture Series Historian Kevin Duffus begins a three-part lecture series on the Cape Fear and 500 years of American history at 2 p.m. on Sunday, Jan. 19, at the Weymouth Center for the Arts and Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. For additional information call (910) 692-6261 or visit www. weymouthcenter.org. Tickets are available at www.ticketmesandhills.com.

A Day at the Opera The Sunrise Theater’s Met Opera series continues on Saturday, Jan. 11, at 1 p.m., with Wozzeck, Alban Berg’s 20th century shocker staring baritone Peter Mattei in the title role. Groundbreaking visual artist and director William Kentridge unveils a bold new staging set in an apocalyptic wasteland. For information call (910) 692-3611 or visit www.sunrisetheater.com.

The Rooster’s Wife Sunday, Jan. 5: The Gibson Brothers. The best brother duo in bluegrass makes its annual appearance with shows at 12:46 p.m. and 6:46 p.m. at the Poplar Knight Spot. Cost: $35. Sunday, Jan. 12: The Kennedys with special guest, Grammy-winner Jon Carroll. Old friends and collaborators from the D.C. area meet at musical crossroads in Aberdeen. The Kennedys, Pete and Maura, have shared many stages, tour buses and studios with Carroll over the years, and they’re excited to catch up at The Rooster’s Wife. Cost: $20. Friday, Jan. 17: An Evening with Chris Smither. Honing a synthesis of folk and blues for 50 years, Smither is truly an American original. Rolling Stone and The New York Times agree that Smither continues to be a profound songwriter, a blistering guitarist, and intense performer as he draws deeply from the blues, American folk music, modern poets and humanist philosophers. Cost: $30. Sunday, Jan. 19: Tire Fire, Stoll Vaughn. Kentucky singer/songwriter Vaughn opens the show for this newgrass-jam-funk-groovemachine-headbangin’electrified-party-band! Cost: $15.

Get Well Learn about Kombucha tea, CBD and essential oils at a holistic wellness expo running from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. at The Pilot office, 145 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Holistic health experts will exhibit and be available to answer questions. For more information contact mollie@firstflightagency.com. Tickets can be purchased at www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Sunday, Jan. 26: Cliff Eberhardt with special guest Louise Mosrie. Eberhardt knew by the age of 7 that he was going to be a singer and songwriter. Living close to the Main Point, one of the best folk clubs on the East Coast, he cut his teeth listening to the likes of James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, Bruce Springsteen, Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Bonnie Raitt and Mississippi John Hurt. At the same time, he studied great pop songwriters like Cole Porter, the Gershwins, and Rodgers and Hart, all of which explains his penchant for great melodies and clever lyrical twists. He’ll be joined by Louise Mosrie. Cost: $20.

Thursday, Jan. 30: DamnTall Buildings. Whether live or on record, the band radiates the energy of a ragtag crew of music students playing bluegrass on the street. Anchoring that energy is their instrumental chops, their strong songwriting, and their varied influences that stretch beyond bluegrass. Sharing lead vocals, instrumental solos and high-spirited harmony, DamnTall Buildings is more than the sum of its parts. Cost: $15. Unless otherwise noted, doors open at 6 p.m. and music begins at 6:46 at the Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Prices above are for members. Annual memberships are $5 and available online or at the door. For more information call (910) 944-7502 or visit www.theroosterswife.org or ticketmesandhills.com. PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2020

G O O D NAT U R E D

Power of Thought We are what we think

W R I G H T S V I L L E

B E A C H

GOOD TIMES AT THE COAST

By K aren Frye

A New Year is always looked upon as an

opportunity to change things that can improve the quality of the life we live. Do you often wonder why certain people seem to consistently have the best outcomes, maintaining happiness and that easygoing spirit? Could there be a secret that only those folks know? The answer is . . . you get what you think about.

We are living in difficult times — stress and worry conflict with happiness, undermine our health, and create disharmony, mentally and physically. Your way of thinking can be a valuable weapon against anything that challenges your success and happiness. In Hamlet Shakespeare wrote, “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” There are many quotes reminding us of the power of our thoughts, such as, “What we think about, we bring about.” The Book of Proverbs says, “As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.” I’m sure you get the point. Emmet Fox was an advocate for educating people about the power of their thoughts. Born in Ireland in 1886, he was an electrical engineer by profession, but he’s better know for a book he published in 1943 titled The Mental Equivalent based on two lectures he delivered in Kansas City, Missouri. People think this is a material world but, in reality, it’s a mental world. Whatever you want in your life — good health, self-fulfilling work, the right friends, abundance in every form — you acquire the mental equivalent first. We are the creators of our destiny. The secret is to develop the thoughts of what you want, and rid yourself of the thoughts of what you do not want. Focus daily on the things that will improve every aspect of your life. There are techniques for mastering the task. Build your mental equivalents by thinking quietly, constantly, and persistently. Form the mental equivalent of what you want for your life, think about it a great deal — with clarity and interest. Fox’s The Mental Equivalent and his other books are more popular today than ever, as we yearn to know more about the power of the mind. Understanding simple techniques to control your thoughts can change your life in so many positive ways. May this be the year that everything you desire is yours. PS Karen Frye is the owner and founder of Nature’s Own and teaches yoga at the Bikram Yoga Studio.

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THE OMNIVOROUS READER

The Unforgiving Arctic Story of the perilous Lady Franklin Bay Expedition

By Stephen E. Smith

In July 1881, the USS Proteus set sail from

Newfoundland for Lady Franklin Bay in the Canadian Arctic. On board were the expedition’s commander, Lt. Adolphus W. Greely, astronomer Edward Israel, photographer George Rice, and 21 men chosen from the U.S. military. Their stated purpose was to establish a meteorological observation station as part of the First International Polar Year. But Greely had a personal objective: to reach “Farthest North,” an achievement claimed by the British Navy decades earlier.

A month after departing Newfoundland, the Proteus anchored off Ellesmere Island in the Arctic Circle, where tons of supplies were unloaded, a substantial building constructed, and the expedition’s work began in earnest. The four years that followed were to be the most harrowing and terrible of all recorded Arctic voyages. Buddy Levy’s Labyrinth of Ice is the latest and most comprehensive popular history of the Lady Franklin Bay Expedition (the undertaking’s official designation), recounting in detail the travails that befell men subsiding on meager rations and caught in continuous sub-zero temperatures — sometimes 50 degrees below — during extended periods of total darkness. Their suffering notwithstanding, Greely’s men fulfilled their scientific obligations and maintained meticulous records that are useful today in our analysis of global warming. And during the first year of his Arctic sojourn, Greely also achieved his personal objective: Two of his men established Farthest North. Then the expedition settled in to await resupply ships that never arrived.

What befell the Greely Expedition is what doomed many of the Arctic and Antarctic voyages of the 19th and early 20th centuries: extreme privation. Without resupply, the expedition had to abandon their camp and head south, first by boat, then by sled and finally on foot, hoping to link up with relief ships headed in their direction. They were constantly impeded by ice — mountains of ice, jagged blocks of broken ice, icebergs, massive ice floes, ice in every possible configuration — making forward progress almost impossible, and denying the explorers sustenance and subjecting them to the unforgiving elements. Relying on Greely’s notebooks and the personal dairies of expedition members, Levy writes in measured, almost journalistic prose, describing the quirks of personality and the details of the inevitable conflicts that arose when the expedition’s men were confined in life-threatening conditions. Greely was able to mediate most of these squabbles, but when rations grew short and shelter increasingly insubstantial, the conflicts grew more intense: “Pavy grew incensed, and when he started yelling at Whisler, the dutiful military man drew and leveled his pistol at Pavy to show there would be no more talk.” Disagreements between Greely and the Expedition’s doctor were a constant source of unease, and the growing tension among the starving men eventually led to the execution of Pvt. Charles Henry, who had confessed to stealing food, which he continued to do after numerous warnings. In 1882, the relief ship Neptune was blocked by ice and forced to abandon its mission, leaving much-needed supplies in Newfoundland, thousands of miles south of the expedition. The Proteus attempted a rescue in 1883 but was crushed by pack ice and sank. The expedition would surely have perished but for Greely’s dutiful wife, Henrietta, who had political and journalist connections. She lobbied constantly for her husband’s rescue, and much of the book is given over to her unrelenting efforts. She had to contend with a Washington bureaucracy that was painfully slow to act. There were boards of inquiry and much finger-pointing concerning failed relief efforts. But Henrietta’s persistence yielded results, and a third rescue mission was finally mounted, despite Secretary of War Robert Todd Lincoln’s reluctance to waste resources on “dead men.” By the time Greely and six of his surviving crew were located on the barren

THE OMNIVOROUS READER

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shores of Cape Sabine, they were hours from death. “Greely is that you?” a rescuer asked. “Yes — seven of us left — here we are, dying like men,” Greely replied. “Did what I came to do — beat the record,” meaning he’d obtained Farthest North. Readers are left to decide if the suffering was worth it. The survivors may have thought so when they were received as heroes. Celebrated and roundly lauded in the press, honored with a parade, promoted in grade and awarded medals, they basked in the limelight. But not long after they had settled into their new lives, rumors of cannibalism materialized. Greely and the other survivors denied any knowledge of such an outrage, but a medical examination of at least one of the corpses revealed that flesh had been removed from the bones with a cutting implement. It may be that our general lack of knowledge of the Lady Franklin Bay Expedition is the result of these lingering accusations — after all, we’ve never forgiven the Donner Party — and only in recent years have books on Greely’s Arctic adventure seen publication. Three of these books, Ghosts of Cape Sabine, Frozen in Time and Abandoned, have helped raise awareness among readers of popular histories, and a PBS American Experience documentary, “The Greely Expedition,” has attracted attention, but we live in a moment when yesterday’s news is ancient history and the majority of Americans can’t tell you where the Grand Canyon is located. A plethora of recent books detailing other desperate Arctic and Antarctic expeditions have come to constitute a “desperate polar rescue” subgenre. The Endurance: Shackleton’s Legendary Antarctic Expedition, a beautifully written history of a 1914 attempt to reach the South Pole, has received much critical attention, and the lifeboat Shackleton used to navigate the stormy waters from Antarctica to the Falkland Islands has toured museums around the country. But Shackleton’s Expedition had a happy outcome; every member of the Endurance crew survived. Nineteen of Greely’s command died in order to achieve the most ephemeral of objectives. If you have a grim fascination with self-inflicted suffering in inhospitable environs, you can always revel in TV’s Life Below Zero, Ultimate Survival Alaska, Dual Survival, Naked and Afraid, or, this reviewer’s favorite series title, Dude, You’re Screwed. There’s no denying that the Lady Franklin Bay Expedition suffered unimaginable horrors — and there was no “tapping out” when they found themselves trapped in the Arctic. How silly and shallow reality TV programs seem when compared to the real reality of the Greely Expedition. PS Stephen E. Smith is a retired professor and the author of seven books of poetry and prose. He’s the recipient of the Poetry Northwest Young Poet’s Prize, the Zoe Kincaid Brockman Prize for poetry and four North Carolina Press awards.

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Saturday, January 25, 2020 | 10AM to 2PM The Pilot, 145 W. Pennsylvania Avenue, Southern Pines

Come learn about the health benefits of Kombucha. Discover why essential oils are essential for you and your four-legged friends. Understand what CBD is and why so many people are using it. For some, holistic healing is a whole new vocabulary. For others, it’s a world of solutions.

January is the time to get serious about health and wellness.

Bring your questions and your curiosity. Holistic health experts will get the information and answers you need.

Partial List of Participating Vendors (More to come!) • Integrated Hemp Solutions/ritual X • Isagenix • National Athletic Village • Pinnacle Therapeutic Solutions • Southern Salt Room Halotherapy • Wellspring Center for Holistic Wellbeing • Young Living Essential Oils Tickets $10 through TicketMeSandhills.com Advanced ticket holders will be eligible for multiple raffles throughout the day. Check us out on Facebook.

BOOKSHELF

January Books FICTION

American Dirt, by Jeanine Cummins On a sunny afternoon in Acapulco, a cartel massacres 16 members of a family at a barbecue. By a twist of fate, Lydia and her 8-year-old son, Luca, survive; and so begins their terrifying and interminable journey across Mexico in an attempt to cross the border. The tale exemplifies the struggle to elude the long-encompassing arms of the cartels. Who can be trusted? Propelled by fear and weighing the terror of what lies behind you against what lies ahead of you, to what lengths would you go to ensure the survival of your child? Cummins’ urgent and precise prose forbids you to stop reading until the end, then lingers long afterward. The Truants, by Kate Weinberg In a debut novel of suspense, Weinberg weaves a tale of obsession, deception and misguided love. Jess Walker is a young woman who enters an uninspiring university in East Anglia for the sole purpose of being a student of a charismatic professor of literature, Lorna Clay, who seems to have taken the position under a cloud of suspicion. Clay will be conducting studies on the life and work of Agatha Christie, with an underlying theme: “People disappear when they most want to be seen.” Jess not only falls under her thrall, but also that of her three new friends who introduce her to a lifestyle of excess and awakenings, with tragic and life-altering consequences. This is a moody, mesmerizing, literary read. Run Me to Earth, by Paul Yoon What happens when it seems that war and its atrocities are all you know, but somehow the instinct for survival and some semblance of childhood innocence prevail? That is precisely what Yoon has captured in this work, which is both elegant and spare, yet imbued with an incredible depth of emotion. The haunting story follows three orphaned children in Laos during the 1960s who find themselves working as couriers for a makeshift hospital with an enigmatic doctor. When an evacuation attempt forces the three in different directions, what follows is the tale of their lives through the decades. A magnificent read. What I Carry, by Jennifer Longo If a checklist exists for all the things a read requires, then this novel ticks off all the boxes. The number of foster homes Muir has found herself in far exceeds the 17 years of her life. She’s learned to pack light. Socks and toothbrush? Sure. Emotional attachments? Never. What she does have is an amazing, longtime social worker she can depend on, and what she finds is a new foster mom who is different from the rest, a for-the-first-time best friend, and a perfect boyfriend — all who actually “see” her. She also has a pillowcase resembling a blackbird’s nest of small objects acquired over the years to tell her story. Muir’s great love of the outdoors finds a home on a beautiful Pacific Northwest island as she comes to terms with her future and her imminent “aging out” of the foster care system in this unforgettable and exquisitely written book. The Secret Guests, by Benjamin Black A fictional account of the two daughters of the king of

England, Elizabeth and Mary, who are sent to Ireland during the bombing of London. Keeping the girls’ location a secret is hard for everyone and the action starts when their secret is discovered. Dear Edward, by Ann Napolitano How do you go on living when the plane you’re on with your family crashes, and you’re the only survivor? That’s the dilemma for 12-year-old Edward, who is now living with his aunt and uncle, but doesn’t know how to stop feeling guilty. A wonderful story of how he discovers happiness again. Lady Clementine, by Marie Benedict In 1909, Clementine steps off a train with her new husband, Winston. An angry woman attacks him from the crowd, shoving him in the direction of an oncoming train. Just before he stumbles, Clementine grabs him by his suit jacket. This will not be the last time Clementine Churchill will save her husband. Lady Clementine is the ferocious story of the ambitious woman at Churchill’s side, the story of a partner who did not flinch through the darkness of war, and who would not surrender to either expectations or to enemies. Big Lies in a Small Town, by Diane Chamberlain North Carolina, 2018: Morgan Christopher’s life has been derailed. Taking the fall for a crime she did not commit, she finds herself serving a three-year stint in the North Carolina Women’s Correctional Center. Her dream of a career in art is put on hold — until a mysterious visitor makes her an offer that will see her released immediately. Her assignment: restore an old post office mural in a sleepy Southern town. Morgan knows nothing about art restoration, but desperate to leave prison, she accepts. What she finds under the layers of grime is a painting that tells the story of madness, violence, and a conspiracy of small town secrets. North Carolina, 1940: Anna Dale, an artist from New Jersey, wins a national contest to paint a mural for the post office in Edenton, North Carolina. Alone in the world and desperate for work, she accepts. But what she doesn’t expect is to find herself immersed in a town where prejudices run deep, where people are hiding secrets behind closed doors, and where the price of being different might just end in murder. What happened to Anna Dale? Are the clues hidden in the decrepit mural? Can Morgan overcome her own demons to discover what exists beneath the layers of lies? Hunter Killer, by Brad Taylor Pike Logan and the Taskforce were once the apex predators, an unrivaled hunting machine that decimated those out to harm the United States, but they may have met their match. While Logan and Jennifer Cahill prepare to join their team on a counter-terrorist mission in the lawless tri-border region where Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay meet, they are targeted in Charleston, South Carolina. A vicious explosion kills a friend, and the perpetrators have set it up to look like an accident. While the authorities believe this was not foul play, Pike knows the attack was meant for him. He and the Taskforce are under assault. Pike and Jennifer head to Brazil and run headlong into a crew of Russian assassins. Within days they

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BOOKSHELF

are entangled in a byzantine scheme involving Brazilian politics and a cutthroat battle for control of offshore oil fields.

CHILDREN’S BOOKS

Croc & Turtle Snow Fun, by Mike Wohnoutka It’s time for a playdate, but the two friends have come to an impasse. Croc wants to play outside while Turtle is determined to stay inside. The result is a fabulous compromise. Perfect for classroom or home reading — any place where young listeners may find themselves at odds with their fellow playmates. Croc and Turtle are the coolest new characters on the learning-to-read scene. (Ages 2-6.)

INTERCHANGEABLE RINGS NOW AT

FRAMER’S COTTAGE

Bear Has a Story to Tell, by Philip Stead Bear has a story to tell but, with all his friends busily preparing for the coming winter, will he ever get to share his thoughts before he must make his own preparations? A sweet winter readtogether just perfect for story time or snuggle time. (Ages 2-4.) Scientist Scientist, Who Do You See? by Chris Ferrie Borrowing the rhythm from the classic Brown Bear, Brown Bear series, Ferrie introduces the youngest scientists to some of the most famous chemists, biologists, and meteorologists as well as pioneers in technology, artificial intelligence and space travel. The perfect book for new babies or budding young experimenters. (Ages 2-5.) Camilla, Cartographer, by Julie Dillemuth Camilla loves maps — old ones with crisping edges that show her home as it once was; maps left behind by summer hikers; and even maps of imaginary places. So when the snow falls deep enough to obscure all the known trails, Camilla delights in making a new map to help her friend Parsley find the path to the creek. Lovely, warm illustrations bring to life this fun title that reminds readers young and old of the value of thinking, creativity and exploration. (Ages 6-8.) PS Compiled by Kimberly Daniels Taws and Angie Tally

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P L E A S U R E S O F L I F E D E P T.

White-Knuckle Fists And how to pry an idea out of them

By Jenna Biter

More often than not, I’m wrong

— not about any one thing or even a short list of several things. No, not me. I cut a wide swath. I sprinkle conjecture willy-nilly as if it was fairy dust, speaking too soon and judging too quickly. I find myself nursing a bout of foot in mouth so often I should be vaccinated for it. Luckily, erosion of excessive pride is a by-product of my blunders, so I’ve learned to take jokes at my expense gracefully (ish) and to hold my opinions loosely.

Growing up in rural Pennsylvania with a mile-long driveway seemed dull to a 13-year-old with the dream of becoming a fashion designer in a big city, and, to my 20-year-old self, my Perry County upbringing was merely fodder for comedic storytelling. Tales of my Amish neighbors or the eccentric neighborhood survivalist, Emerson, who had constructed a bomb shelter beneath his garage, were megahits with my city-dwelling college mates. “I’ll never marry a man from home,” says I, after breaking up with my high school sweetheart. Wrong. I’m newly married to a man I met in seventh grade. We settled here in the Sandhills, bought our first house–a modified Cape Cod with navy shutters and a fenced-in backyard–and I began prying some of my dumbest preconceived notions out of my white-knuckle fists. I used to avoid Lowe’s. It wasn’t the garish inflatable holiday decorations that offended me but the garage-style concrete floors. The scuff, scuff, scuffing of my shoes against that cold, hard floor pooled in my head like an invasive earworm. Wriggling into five layers of snowsuit in the backseat of a Suburban was more fun. Then, my husband, Drew, and I became homeowners, and now we worship at the altar of Lowe’s. Somehow my newfound interest in orbital sanders,

wainscoting and dovetail joints drowned out the sound of shoes on a floor. My re-evaluations didn’t stop at home improvement. “But, I want to sit beside you,” I whined into Drew’s ear. “I know, I know,” he cooed as he squeezed my hand and pulled me to our two-person table at our favorite breakfast spot. He slid into his seat, and I plopped into the chair across from him with a huff. It was 10 a.m. on a Saturday. The restaurant was slammed. We crossed our fingers for a booth, so we could cozy in beside each other, hold hands and pull up a Monday or Tuesday puzzle in The New York Times crossword app. Finger crossing has a fairly low success rate when the line snakes out the door and halfway to Savannah. Begrudgingly, we accepted the wooden two-top. Drew concentrated on the menu, even though he orders the same thing every time; I’ll cough out my latte the day he orders differently, and I’m not one to waste a coffee. I glared at him from across the table. Then it struck me. You hypocrite, I chuckled to myself. How long ago was it when I rolled my eyes and held back laughter at the Romeo and Juliet feeding each other French fries while snuggled up side-by-side at Applebee’s? “Weirdos,” I muttered back then. Now, I’m the weirdo. But I’m OK with that. The list of things I once avoided or mocked now sports a new title: Things I Do or Will Do. I married a man from my hometown, shop at Lowe’s, sit beside rather than across at restaurants, and use an electric toothbrush daily, even though its wet grossness still makes me cringe. I live with a big, hairy dog that drops poufs of fur like tumbleweeds on Route 66 and own utility pants from REI Co-op. On the flip side, my husband now likes mushrooms and red onions and wears clothes that aren’t only for utility. I’m not saying all of my opinions have or will reverse themselves–I’m still too stubborn for that. And, who knows, some may even withstand research and reanalysis. Hell, there’s an off chance I could be right. You know what they say, even a broken clock is right twice a day, and I think my odds are better than that. Hope springs eternal. PS Jenna Biter is a fashion designer, entrepreneur and military wife in the Sandhills. She can be reached at jenna.l.knouse@gmail.com.

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DRINKING WITH WRITERS

Songs of Home

The Steep Canyon Rangers celebrate the music of the Old North State

By Wiley Cash • Photographs by Mallory Cash

What do you do after spending several

weeks playing sold-out shows across Australia, some of them with Steve Martin and Martin Short? If you are the Steep Canyon Rangers, you come back to North Carolina and play a lunchtime show inside a strip-mall record store in Raleigh. If you are the Steep Canyon Rangers you even carry your own equipment through the front door and snake your way through the crowd on the way to the stage.

There were no crowds when I arrived nearly an hour or so before the noon show on a chilly Wednesday in early December. The Steep Canyon Rangers had just released their latest album, North Carolina Songbook, which they had recorded live at MerleFest in April. The album is a celebration of North Carolina music, featuring the band’s renditions of the work of some of North Carolina’s most foundational voices, including Thelonious Monk, Doc Watson, Elizabeth Cotton and James Taylor. The album was released on the Friday after Thanksgiving, a day that many music lovers have come to revere as National Record Store Day Black Friday. In support of the album, the Rangers had decided to play record stores, starting with School Kids Records in Raleigh. If you want to feel uncool, I invite you to visit an independent record store that sits a stone’s throw from a university campus. “VIPs only down front,” says the record store manager from behind the bar. I call it a bar because while it is a counter where you can pay for records and merchandise, it is also a bar in that beer is served from behind it.

DRINKING WITH WRITERS

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“I’m friends with the band,” I say. He knits his brows as if he has heard this hundreds of times over the years from lame dads like me. But it is the truth. I went to college with mandolin player Mike Guggino, and I have written about the band and gotten to know them over the years. I decide to try another tack. “I’m with the media,” I say, which is also true. After all, you are right now reading the media story I wrote, but this was not enough for the manager. “You have to purchase an album to be a VIP,” he says. “That’s it?” I ask. “I was going to do that anyway.” “Great,” he says, not smiling. “You can be a VIP.” As the clock crawls closer to noon, the store begins to fill to capacity with a mixed crowd that ranges from college students to retirees. Someone has ordered pizza. Beers are being passed from the bar back through the crowd. “Do a lot of bands play here?” a middle-aged woman asks the manager. “A couple times a month,” he says. He looks around. “But nothing like this.” I hear someone say my name, and I turn to find Graham Sharp, one of the band’s vocalists, carrying his guitar case and pushing through the crowd. I say hello to him and pray that the record store manager has seen us greet one another by name. The rest of the band streams in behind Sharp, each of them carrying an assortment of instruments. The band takes the small stage, nearly filling it. The room is warm and pleasant; everyone clearly happy to be out of the office or skipping class in favor of live music from one of North Carolina’s most famous bands. “Hey, y’all,” Sharp says to the audience. “These are songs we recorded at MerleFest.” The crowd cheers at the mention of the iconic festival. “But we haven’t played them since April.” “We relearned them on the way here,” says lead vocalist Woody Platt to the audience’s laughter. And then the band is off into a rollicking version of

January 2020 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

DRINKING WITH WRITERS

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Charlie Poole’s “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down,” Platt’s rich baritone playing a wonderful historical opposite to Poole’s higher pitch. The event soon takes on the feel of a college keg party, a feel that is intimately familiar to the Steep Canyon Rangers. The band was co-founded by Sharp and Platt at UNC-Chapel Hill in the late ’90s, when both were undergraduates. They released their first album in 2001, and they have released 13 albums since then, a few in collaboration with Steve Martin. “This new album is a homecoming for us,” Platt later tells the audience. “We released our first record with Yep Roc Records, and that’s who’s just released North Carolina Songbook.” And what a homecoming. The album is not only a celebration of famous North Carolina musicians and their music; it is also a testament to the Steep Canyon Rangers’ ability to blend and bend genres and styles while making a cover song seem like their own. The band moves through gorgeous covers of Thelonious Monk’s “Blue Monk,” Tommy Jerrell’s “Drunkard’s Hiccups,” Ola Belle Reed’s “I’ve Endured,” Elizabeth Cotton’s “Shake Sugaree,” closing out the set with the state’s beloved James Taylor’s “Sweet Baby James,” sung by bassist Barrett Smith, a longtime friend of the band who is the newest addition. At the close of the show, Platt sets down his guitar and tells the audience that the band will hang around for a little “shake and howdy,” but they have to get over to Chapel Hill for a mic check. They are singing the national anthem at the Dean Dome before tonight’s Tar Heels game against Ohio State. A homecoming indeed, but while so much has changed for the Steep Canyon Rangers, shows like the one at the record store prove that so little about them has. PS Wiley Cash lives in Wilmington with his wife and their two daughters. His latest novel, The Last Ballad, is available wherever books are sold.

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HOMETOWN

Period Pieces

Vintage cameras can yield vintage shots

By Bill Fields

I’ve decided I’m going to start a new decade

PHOTOGRAPH BY BILL FIELDS

with an old camera.

In fact, multiple vintage cameras. I’ve had them for a while as the only thing I really collect aside from a meager stash of old signature golf balls bearing the names of pros you probably haven’t heard of. But, after a couple of false starts the last few years, I’ve made a commitment to use them regularly in 2020, the challenges of airport X-rays and film loading be damned. (I’m writing this with a view of some stray bits of film leader, the end game of a practice run with a bottom-loading screw-mount Leica.) Still, it was great fun to take my 1937 Leica IId to the top of the Arc de Triomphe on a trip to Paris in late 2018, where it stood out in a sea of selfie sticks and smartphones. I’ve shot film sporadically over the last two decades, from an 85-year-old leatherette Kodak Brownie to a brand-new plastic Holga and any number of models in between. An image I made with that Brownie about a decade ago on a beach not far from home is one my favorites. A handheld exposure at dusk, it includes two swimmers, one appearing as a sea serpentlike apparition, the mood enhanced by a bit of motion and the late hour of the day. My satisfaction with the photo is no doubt also influenced by the vagaries of the camera itself, a basic design that wasn’t foolproof in its heyday, much less now. I sure didn’t know what I had when I looked through the cloudy viewfinder and clicked the shutter that evening. I thought about a one-camera/one-lens approach to 2020, a popular method for simplifying one’s photographic mission. One of my very old Leicas with a collapsible Elmar 50mm f/3.5 lens will likely see the most duty, but I’m going to mix things up by utilizing an Olympus OM-1n from the 1970s and probably the box camera as well. I noticed recently that a couple of places even still sell 110-format film, meaning that I could put my first camera, a Kodak Pocket

Instamatic 20 model, in the rotation. What I’m sure of, though, is my vow to have a film camera with me. I don’t know my way around a darkroom, so I won’t be souping my own film or making my own prints, yet I am energized by the prospects of the photographs I will be producing. Budget alone will force me to pick my spots and compose carefully. I may develop specific themes or it could turn out more random. It will be fun — I think — to experience the hopeful anxiety between shooting and having the film developed as I experienced in shooting golf professionally for more than a decade in the 1980s and 1990s. One of the most vivid memories of my work life is picking up my slides at a New York City lab on the Monday after the 1987 Masters and quickly going through boxes to find the one containing Larry Mize’s winning shot and celebration. Dinner tasted a lot better once I realized I had the moment in focus and it was properly exposed, no gimme in a less-automated era. My career won’t depend on what I shoot on film in 2020. In a way, it’s akin to playing golf with hickory shafts or persimmon clubheads — a different game than today’s way. Vintage cameras can be beautiful objects even if they’re just sitting on a shelf. Using them can be rewarding. To consider who before me might have shot with them — and where — is a fascination, and there is romance in film that isn’t in a memory card. My friend Martin Axon has printed for many renowned photographers and is a master of the platinum process. In 2013, I did an essay about Hy Peskin’s famous image of Ben Hogan at the 1950 U.S. Open. Axon has printed the iconic shot. “When you hold someone’s negative,” Axon told me then, “you go, ‘This was the actual moment,’ because you know the film was there at that moment in time.” Here’s hoping negatives will be a positive in 2020. PS Southern Pines native Bill Fields, who writes about golf and other things, moved north in 1986 but hasn’t lost his accent.

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IN THE SPIRIT

Oleo Saccharum

Three ways to create a simple base for your cocktails

If you’re a seasoned vet with a vacuum sealer: Combine the same specs from above, but this time place in a food processor. Blend until all of the grapefruit peels are completely obliterated. Place the mix in a vacuum seal bag and use the vac-seal machine to suck out all of the air from the bag. Place it in the kitchen and come back in two hours, or put it in the freezer if you’d like to use it at another time.

By Tony Cross

Over the years,

I’ve experimented with many ingredients, recipes and gadgets — all aimed at making my job easier. I mean, c’mon, my business is built on the premise of pulling a handle to get the finished product. You can’t get much lazier than that. Some of these experiments have been disastrous, but from time to time I’ll find a winner. In this case, the winner is oleo saccharum and a few ways to make it.

PHOTOGRAPH BY TONY CROSS

“A few ways to make what?” Oleo saccharum. It has the same number of syllables as REO Speedwagon, but is waaay better. Trust me. Latin for “oil-sugar,” this combination is the base for most punches and certain cordials/cocktails. (My very first article in PineStraw, circa 2015, touched on the subject briefly.) It’s a very simple process of mixing certain citrus peels — grapefruit, lemon or lime — with sugar. After some time, the sugar draws out oils from whichever citrus you used. Science! And this is coming from someone who failed high school chemistry. Let’s go over several ways to achieve this. If you’re a beginner: Combine the peels of one grapefruit and 250 grams of baker’s sugar (or plain granulated sugar) in a bowl. Use a muddler (or, if you don’t have one, a wooden spoon) and press the peels into the sugar for about 30 seconds. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it stand about four hours, or even overnight. When you return to the bowl, you’ll see that what was sugar is now a syrup mixed with peels: oleo saccharum. Now, you can do a couple of things. Add the oil-sugar to a pot with 1 cup of fresh squeezed (and filtered) grapefruit juice — it might help to add the juice to the bowl after trying to get all of the oleo saccharum into the pot. Once it’s all together, stir on medium heat for a couple of minutes. Strain out grapefruit peels and refrigerate after it cools. Or, you can skip the juice and simply strain out the grapefruit peels and refrigerate (if there’s undissolved sugar, muddle your heart out). You can mix this basic syrup, in sparkling water for a fresh non-alcoholic cooler, or you can whip up a quick little riff on the classic Champagne cocktail: 4 ounces chilled Champagne (or other dry sparkling wine) 1/4 ounce grapefruit oleo 2 dashes grapefruit bitters (or Angostura, if you don’t have any) Add oleo and bitters in a flute glass, top with Champagne.

If you’re a chemistry cowboy: Bring out the sous-vide machine. Meaning “under vacuum,” this style of cooking has been very popular for years now, but I like to use it when making certain syrups, including oleo saccharums. I use the Anova Culinary model, but I’m sure there are a few others on the market that will do the trick. Ditch the food processor and combine the peels and sugar into the vacuum seal bag, and seal. Oh, and by the way, if you’re not a fan of grapefruit (who are you?), you can most certainly substitute lemons or limes. I recommend around 35 grams of lemon peels or 50 grams of lime. Grab your sealed bag and place it in a large bath of water. Hook up your sous-vide machine and set temperature to 130 degrees Fahrenheit, and the timer to 45 minutes. When the timer goes off, unplug the machine, and take the bag out of the water. Nothing but net! I mean, oil. Pretty cool. Tying it all together: OK, you’ve made your oil-sugar. What now? You can use it as a base for punch, or a simple syrup. I’ll leave you with a riff on a Tom Collins cocktail.

The Cleaner 1 ounce Durham Distillery Conniption Navy Strength Gin 1/2 ounce TOPO Vodka 1/4 ounce St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur 1 ounce grapefruit oleo saccharum cordial (syrup with the grapefruit juice, like in Step 1 from above) 1/2 ounce lemon juice Pinch of salt Sparkling water Combine all ingredients (sans the sparkling water) in a cocktail shaker. Add ice and shake hard for 10 seconds. Strain into a long (Collins) glass over ice. Top with sparkling water. Use a barspoon to stir together ingredients briefly. Garnish with a swath of a grapefruit peel. PS Tony Cross is a bartender (well, ex-bartender) who runs cocktail catering company Reverie Cocktails in Southern Pines.

1/5 The Gibson Brothers Aberdeen Annual (12:46 & 6:46)

1/18 28th Annual North Carolina Harmony Brigade Spectacular

1/8 Elvis and Chagall

1/19 Cape Fear - 500 Years of American History Part 1 of 3 with Kevin Duffus

The Rooster’s Wife

Owens Auditorium

1/9 Peter Lamb Trio - Live In Concert Cameo Art House Theatre

1/10 Kate DiCamillo

Southern Pines Elementary Auditorium

1/11 Cheese Making Class

Paradox Farm Creamery

1/12 The Kennedys w Special Guest Grammy Winner Jon Carroll The Rooster’s Wife

1/17 An Evening with Chris Smither The Rooster’s Wife

Robert E. Lee Auditorium

Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities

Tire Fire , Stoll Vaughn opens The Rooster’s Wife

1/22 Cheese Making Class

Paradox Farm Creamery

1/26 Cliff Eberhardt with special guest Louise Mosrie The Rooster’s Wife

1/27 In Search Of Mozart

Cameo Art House Theatre

1/30 DamnTall Buildings The Rooster’s Wife

THE KITCHEN GARDEN

Ode to the Veg Or: Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we diet

By Jan Leitschuh

It happens every January.

As penance for the rich feasting of the holidays, the unrestrained, celebratory consumption/imbibing of pecan pies, creamy dips, butter sauces, eggnog (and other tipsy spirits), gravies, mocha-mint lattes and, of course, peppermint ice cream, we find ourselves in January, contemplating our softening middles, spreading bottoms and muffin tops. A powerful craving for a Christmas cookie and fruitcake detox takes hold. So we sign up for the gym and start a diet. We step away from the metaphorical sugarplums. Can’t help with the gym, that’s on you. Now, diet, here we can brainstorm. Kitchen gardeners may even have a leg up here. Isn’t your freezer full of produce picked at seasonal peak from the garden or local farmers markets? Think about it — so many diets out there to choose from. There are the old classics: Mediterranean, Atkins, South Beach, Weight Watchers, grapefruit, cabbage and more. There are the more recent diet entries such as Whole 30, TLC, DASH, the Zone, the Warrior, Paleo and ketogenic. There is so much confusing info. Are eggs bad for you — or good? Is dairy a healthy food — or not? Legumes — hard-to-digest gut-disrupter or heart-healthy protein source? Wheat toast and whole grain pasta — dietary staples or ketosiskilling carbohydrates? And don’t even start on meat — blood sugar-stabilizing muscle-builder or cardiovascular scourge? And yet, there is one simple category everyone can agree on. Virtually every diet and meal plan encourages their consumption. Vegetables. Yep. No matter one’s choice of diet, vegetables form the true backbone of a sensible eating plan and healthy weight management program. And let’s get real — it’s just plain hard to start a complicated “diet” in bleak, cold, gloomy, dark of

January, but it’s not that complicated to drop the junk and fill that void with more veggies. It’s a simple plan, with health uppermost. Keep it simple and start subbing out the sugar, fat and alcohol for an extra helping of nutrition. Start with advice from the USDA: “Five-to-Nine a Day For Better Health.” For many people, it may seem like a huge amount, especially if you aren’t a vegetable fan. But there are simple ways to up the veggie ante. More on that in a minute. We’ll start with some sympathy. If you cling to the “I don’t like vegetables” mantra, it’s possible science has some support for you: It could be your genetics. Researchers with the University of Kentucky School of Medicine recently discovered that a particular gene might cause some people to be particularly sensitive to the taste of the brassicas — radishes, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cabbage and other bitter-tasting veggies. That’s not a “get-out-of-diet” free card, more of an understanding of how one’s preferences might shape a search for produce one might like. There’s still folaterich spinach, or fat-satisfying avocado, high vitamin-C red peppers, glutathione (the master antioxidant) rich asparagus, or the medium starchy indulgence of a sweet potato. Zucchini, avocadoes, cucumber, mushrooms, celery, tomatoes, onion, eggplant, garlic, sprouts and microgreens, carrots, yellow squash, green beans, and onions will work too. For starters. As we learn more about the human gut biome, we are learning how vital plant material is to its (and thus, our) health and diversity. Fiber, found only in plant foods, is one factor. A recent study found that those with the greatest weekly diversity of dietary plants had — surprise — the greatest diversity of beneficial gut bacteria. Eating 30 different plants a week can seem daunting, but this study included nuts, fruits, seeds, grains, spices and more. (Yes, spices are a type of health and taste-promoting plant food. Consider turmeric, basil, ginger, sage, black pepper, garlic and more.) Fruits are sweet, healthy and tasty, but for some might be less than helpful if weight loss is a goal. The fructose, or fruit sugar, is one type of carbohydrate that can trigger blood sugar spikes in diabetics or those with metabolic syndrome,

THE KITCHEN GARDEN

and may push keto dieters out of ketosis. Yet fruit in judicious quantities is healthy and delightful. During a January push, think low-sugar fruits such as a few blueberries in your almond-flour pancakes, a sprinkle of raspberries atop yogurt or mascarpone, or a squeeze of lemon or lime in dressings or tonic water. Save the bananas, figs, grapes, dried fruit and mangoes for celebratory treats down the line. Non-starchy vegetables are naturally lower in calories, so if you are pushing for weight loss rather than health and maintenance, you might also want to give the potatoes a miss for a few weeks. Eat the foods on the DASH food plan: fish and lean protein, high-fiber starches, and deep orange and green-colored vegetables, berries and nuts. So, let’s huddle about sneaking a few more vegetables painlessly into our daily lives. The secret is simple. Start at breakfast. And then keep it up. The simplest breakfast veg start is the classic veggie omelet. Sauté a few of your favorites, and whip up some eggs and pour. The sauté could include any combo of chopped onions, mushrooms, asparagus, spinach or other greens, tomatoes, broccoli and more. On the side, add a few slices of avocado or tomato. For a Mexican scramble, add a dash of salsa atop your eggs, and a small side of black beans. For a Greek, spinach and feta. And so on. Or go all Scandinavian and add slices of tomato and cucumber to your breakfast smorgasbord. The classic green smoothie is breakfast rocket fuel. Lunch is easy. Many folks enjoy a lunch salad, and there are lots of ways to add more vegetable variety here. The advent of prepared veggies such as shaved carrots and beets, cucumber slices, etc., in the supermarket makes things easy. Or run through the market’s salad bar and pick out the items you wouldn’t buy or prepare at home, and add them to your own base of greens. Instead of sandwiches, use lettuce or collards for wraps. Serve an asparagus quiche. A bit of Sunday afternoon preparation in the kitchen could yield, say, a hearty white bean and kale soup or chili one could sup all week.

In fact, vegetable soup is a very good way to pack in both more veggie variety and quantity. Use an immersion blender and puree them all together if you don’t enjoy vegetable chunks. Snack on your favorite finger veggies, adding a light smear of something enjoyable to, say, celery. Or mash up a batch of avocados and toss in a little onion and tomato. As for supper, that’s the easiest. Fill the plate three-quarters full with vegetables. Your traditional side veggies will do. A small sweet potato microwaved is a quick side and a treat. Instead of pasta for your next Italian spaghetti, try spaghetti squash or spiralized zucchini strips, “zoodles,” as a vegetable-rich base. Use riced cauliflower instead of rice in a soup or dish — they are sneaking cauliflower into everything these days. Asian, Italian and Indian cuisines pack many veggies into one dish — think ratatouille, moo goo gai pan or stir-fries and curries. Any casserole can shelter extra vegs. Make spicy “chips” of kale, sweet potatoes and more. For lasagna, use strips of squashes instead of traditional lasagna noodles. Stuff some bell peppers. Grill some kebabs and use a whole lot of grape tomatoes, mushrooms, squash rounds, peppers and onion. Up the veggie ration in your fajitas, or pad out your meatloaf with your friends in the plant kingdom. No matter your dietary goals, health or weight loss, you can’t go wrong working a few more veggies into your daily feeds. Now, go forth and detox! PS Jan Leitschuh is a local gardener, avid eater of fresh produce and cofounder of the Sandhills Farm to Table cooperative.

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An amazing selection of fine gold jewelry, electronics, tools, musical instruments, and much more!

THE 2020

Holly & Ivy Dinner

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Tuesday, February 25, 2020

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at The Holly Inn Cocktails at 6:30pm • Dinner at 7:30pm $125 Per Person A Special Benefit for the Given Memorial Library & Tufts Archives MARDI GRAS attire is encouraged, but optional For more information call 910-295-3642

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Upcoming AUTHOR EVENTS New York Times best selling authors are coming to Southern Pines! Stop by The Country Bookshop to see and talk to them about their latest books.

January 8th at 7:00pm VIVIAN JACOBSON Elvis & Chagall

Author and Lecturer on Marc Chagall, Vivian Jacobson, present Elvis and Chagall: an Experience of Sight, Sound, Art, and Music on the Occasion of the KING’s 85th birthday. Event will be held at Owens Auditorium Sandhills Community College

THIS EVENT IS FREE WITH TICKET Tickets available at ticketmesandhills.com

January 10th at 5:30pm KATE DICAMILLO Beverly, Right Here

The Country Bookshop presents Newbery Medalist and Bestselling Author, Kate DiCamillo, in Southern Pines with her new juvenile fiction novel, Beverly, Right Here. Two-time Newbery Medalist and #1 New York Times Bestselling Author Kate DiCamillo will be presenting and signing her new book, Beverly, Right Here. Event will be held at Southern Pines Elementary Auditorium Each General Admission Ticket includes two entrances to the event and signing line and one hardcover copy of Beverly, Right Here.

Tickets available at ticketmesandhills.com

January 12th at 3:00pm

BRAD TAYLOR Hunter Killer (A Pike Logan Novel) Pike Logan tracks highly-trained Russian assassins to Brazil in this blistering, action-packed thriller from New York Times bestselling author and former Special Forces Officer Brad Taylor. Pike Logan and the Taskforce were once the apex predators, an unrivaled hunting machine that decimated those out to harm the United States, but they may have met their match. While Pike Logan and Jennifer Cahill prepare to join their team on a counter-terrorist mission in the triple frontier--the lawless tri-border region where Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay meet--they are targeted in Charleston, South Carolina. A vicious explosion kills a friend, and the perpetrators have set it up to look like an accident. While the authorities believe this was not foul play, Pike knows the attack was meant for him.

January 13th at 5:00pm

January 16th at 5:00pm

JIM MITCHEM Gone Dogs: Tales of Dogs We’ve Loved There have been books about dogs for as long as there have been printing presses. Thousands of books. Books written by famous authors. Books filled with wondrous stories about the magical bond between humans and canines. Suffice it to say, it’s a pretty popular genre. So why Gone Dogs? Because this book is different. Yes, it’s about the love affair we have with dogs, but it’s not one story, by one author, about one dog. It’s a collection of 50 stories by 50 authors about the dogs of their lifetimes. These highly personal accounts are beautiful, moving, funny, and resonant to anyone who has ever loved a dog. In short, Gone Dogs is a tribute to the dogs that have left us, written by the people who loved them.

January 22nd at 5:00pm DIANE CHAMBERLAIN Big Lies in a Small Town

North Carolina, 2018: Morgan Christopher’s life has been derailed. Taking the fall for a crime she did not commit, she finds herself serving a three-year stint in the North Carolina Women’s Correctional Center. Her dream of a career in art is put on hold – until a mysterious visitor makes her an offer that will see her released immediately. Her assignment: restore an old post office mural in a sleepy southern town. Morgan knows nothing about art restoration, but desperate to leave prison, she accepts. What she finds under the layers of grime is a painting that tells the story of madness, violence, and a conspiracy of small town secrets.

January 28th at 5:00pm DAVID ZUCCHINO Wilmington’s Lie

From Pulitzer Prize-winner David Zucchino comes a searing account of the Wilmington riot and coup of 1898, an extraordinary event unknown to most Americans By the 1890s, Wilmington was North Carolina’s largest city and a shining example of a mixed-race community. It was a bustling port city with a burgeoning African American middle class and a Fusionist government of Republicans and Populists that included black aldermen, police officers and magistrates. There were successful black-owned businesses and an African American newspaper, The Record. But across the state – and the South – white supremacist Democrats were working to reverse the advances made by former slaves and their progeny.

JT ELLISON Good Girls Lie

New York Times Bestselling author JT Ellison will be In-Conversation with Barbara Claypole White Perched atop a hill in the tiny town of Marchburg, Virginia, The Goode School is a prestigious prep school known as a Silent Ivy. The boarding school of choice for daughters of the rich and influential, it accepts only the best and the brightest. Its elite status, long-held traditions and honor code are ideal for preparing exceptional young women for brilliant futures at Ivy League universities and beyond. But a stranger has come to Goode, and this ivy has turned poisonous.

The Country Bookshop 140 NW Broad St, • Southern Pines, NC • 910.692.3211 www.thecountrybookshop.biz • thecountrybookshop

TRUE SOUTH

All Peopled Out Introverts of the world unite — separately

By Susan S. Kelly

Not long ago I said to some pals, “Heavens,

tell me about Duncan. I heard he had four shunts put in.”

“Where have you been?” someone replied with incredulity. “You know I don’t go out,” was my lame, weak, but honest answer. Well, there’s the rub. At the core, I’m an introvert. Pause, for clamor claiming otherwise. But as my children like to say in millennial shorthand: “Truth.” I do not fit the old-school definition of introvert: retiring, withdrawn, uncomfortable in social situations. “She’s just shy” was the old expression — or, as my mother excuses people, “She’s just insecure.” I am not shy. I veer toward that other old expression: “She’s as strong as train smoke.” Nowadays, anybody with a penny’s worth of psychiatry or Myers-Briggs familiarity knows that “introvert” means someone who gets their energy from being alone, and that extroverts get their energy from being with other people. The old definition of introvert is no longer relevant, has gone the way of Greta Garbo’s famous utterance, “I vant to be alone.” Take my sister. She so needs to be with people that she can hardly go to the bathroom by herself. In her 20s, she developed polyps on her vocal cords, and had to communicate with a pad and pencil for weeks. When I join her on the beach, unfold my chair, sit down and take out my book, she says, “Oh no you don’t.” She wants to talk. When her children came home from boarding school, she always said, “Let’s have a cookout!” Meaning, invite people over! Yay! “Let’s have a cookout!” has become an oft used, eyeroll mantra in our households now. We lived in Larchmont, New York, when I was a small child, and my mother says she could put me in a stroller, go to the city and spend all day — shopping, eating, going to museums — without a peep from me. On the other hand, she claims that she’d put my sister down for a nap, open the door an hour later, and the room looked like a bomb had gone off. This could be attributed to undiagnosed ADHD, but I suspect my sister was just rebelling at

being left alone. I guarantee you she has never played a hand of solitaire. Looking back, my childhood strategy of asking a playmate, “When do you have to go home?” instead of, “When are you going home?” was just another way of getting back to my self-entertaining self. Back to playing with Steiff stuffed animals, alone; back to singing along with musicals, alone. Back to reading, alone. All my early, handwritten stories with plotless plots about someone running away to live in the woods and eat squirrels were another symptom. The introvert indicators were all there — I just hadn’t realized it. (There was that one day when I called three or four people to see if they could come play, and when I called the fourth, I opened with, “Can you come over? I’ve called everyone else.” Could be that the fact that I had to call four people to come play and no one could — or would — was an indication of something, too. Hmm. At any rate, my mother made me call the friend back and apologize.) During a trip, any trip — Europe, the beach, a long weekend somewhere — I unfailingly have a moment when I’m desperate to go home. “I want to be home,” I’ll say to my sister. “Yep,” she replies, nonplussed. “Been waiting for that.” “I want to be home,” I’ll say to my husband, who’s lying in bed, reading a guidebook. “I know,” he mildly answers, and turns a page. Once, when all my children were small, my husband asked, “Just how much time do you need alone every day?” “Two hours,” I said. “That’s too much,” he said. Still, he knows me well. “What’s the matter?” he’ll ask me of a Sunday morning, “All cuted out?” This is shorthand for my extrovert quota having been depleted. Also, a hangover. My husband is the reason, as a matter of fact, I know about the MyersBriggs introvert definition in the first place. When he was senior warden at our church, all the officers and spouses were (gently) required to take the test. Trust me, I’d never have done it on my own. I ventured, once, into a Sunday

TRUE SOUTH

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school class, well aware that we might have to “break into small groups” — an introvert’s nightmare — but nevertheless interested in the topic. The minister caught sight of me (at the back of the room) and called out, “What are you doing here?” I never went back. This, as opposed to my friend whose wife claims that the main reason he goes to church is that he’s such an extrovert he can’t miss a party. Existential question: If I post on Instagram, does that negate being an introvert? Often, introverts are mistaken for aloof snobs. They are not aloof snobs. They’re just all peopled out. I’m an expert at the so-called “Irish exit,” when you leave a gathering without telling anyone you’re going. To all those hosts and hostesses of parties past, I apologize. I had a wonderful time and appreciate having been invited. A friend of my mother’s eventually sold her beach cottage because she couldn’t bear to be away from her yard. Oh, sure. Right. A fellow introvert told me that she hates having her hair cut because she can’t stand all the chatter. So she goes to no-name salons and shows the operator a card she made that reads, “I am a deaf mute. Please take an inch off the bottom.” A friend on the board of Outward Bound offered me an Outward Bound trip at no cost. “You’re the perfect person,” he said. I suggested he find another adventurer for his freebie. Whatever I don’t know about myself by now, I don’t want to know, and I certainly don’t want to find out through shudder-inducing group collaboration and cooperation. My worst introvert nightmare was the summer Friday I made plans to go see When Harry Met Sally on its opening day. By myself, of course. There, I sit in the quiet darkness, waiting for the movie, eating my popcorn, contentedly alone and anticipating, and . . . three dozen members of the neighborhood swim team troop in. Talking, laughing, jostling, scrabbling to see who sits beside whom . . . nightmare. On the other hand, as I was all by myself waiting for another movie to begin, a little old lady shuffled in, took a seat, and proceeded to unwrap carrot sticks from a baggie as her movie snack. Was this an omen for a future nightmare? Because it’s common knowledge that whatever you are — punctual, talkative, forgetful — gets more pronounced with age. I deliberately quit writing novels to go out and be with people again. Because I’m not an irredeemable recluse. Essentially I’m a high-functioning hermit with intermittent FOMO. Let’s have a cookout! PS Susan S. Kelly is a blithe spirit, author of several novels, and a proud grandmother.

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CROSSROADS

Morning Oats A small connection that feeds the soul

By Claudia Watson

It’s an icebound

January, and as the morning light leaks through the shutters, I dig in under the down comforter for a few more minutes of warmth as my dog Tilly jumps up for her tummy rub. The thought of breakfast offers motivation to greet the spun-gold dawn.

Tilly’s at the kitchen door watching as the deer meander down the still dark tree line, and in a flash she’s out the door to give them chase. Minutes later, a robust call of “Let’s eat!” and she’s back, tail wagging and at her bowl, while I start the kettle and find the oatmeal pot. As I warm the water, I can still hear his voice, “Did you put a pinch of salt in the water?” “No,” I say out loud, barely awake and staring into the pot. “That’s an old wives’ tale. It doesn’t make the water boil any faster.” “No, babe, but it makes it taste better, and that’s why it’s on the recipe,” the voice insists. I add the pinch of salt to end the too-early tutoring moment. “A recipe, really?” I playfully ask. This instruction is from a man. Say no more — and a man who never read a recipe in his life but went on a health kick and became the connoisseur of oatmeal. I add some milk to the heated water and hurriedly dump in the oats. “Hey, let me take over before you mess it up,” he says, gentling nudging me from the stovetop. “I brought the paper in, so go read. I’ll bring breakfast to you.” He monitors that darn pot of simmering oats, adjusting the heat and adding a bit more milk or water, as needed. Then, he chops half a ripe banana and sets it aside along with a handful of chopped walnuts. The other portion of banana gets a healthy dollop of peanut butter (a la Elvis) that he happily shares with Tilly. Once they are done, the reserved chopped plain banana and walnuts are added to the creamy oatmeal and gently stirred in. The first few times he made it I was opposed to the banana flavor, let alone the nuts. As an oatmeal purist, a sprinkle of cinnamon and a drizzle of maple syrup was enough for me, but never a banana! In time, though, I began to

enjoy his oats as much as the ritual — it was a simple pleasure of life. One winter’s day he made his regular weekly trip to pick up goods for a local restaurant and stopped at the historic Old Guilford Mill to get stone-ground grits, a staple of any true Southern breakfast — unless, of course, you eat oatmeal. When he returned home and unpacked our supply of grits and flour from the brown paper bag, he held out a bundle wrapped in newspaper. “Here, I got this for you,” he said with a sweet smile. I carefully unwrapped it to find a hand-turned footed earthenware bowl with the top half glazed in sapphire blue. “I thought it would be good for your morning oats and it’s a nice blue. You love blue,” he grinned. “I asked the store manager for another, but there was only one left.” “It’s beautiful, thanks,” I said as I ran my fingers around the bowl’s rustic surface, admiring it and putting it in the dish cupboard. The next morning he made his banana-infused oatmeal, but this time he made me laugh as he arrived tableside with a kitchen towel draped over his arm, presenting the steaming bowl of oats in the new bowl with a waiter’s grand flourish and followed by the neatly folded newspaper placed just so on the table. As we finished breakfast, to my annoyance, he started rumbling around in the cupboard. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m making a spot in here for this bowl,” he said, placing it on a shelf by itself. “Take care of this, babe. Wash it by hand and don’t let anyone else use it. It’s just for you.” “Will do, babe,” I said, giving him a quick kiss and dashing off for my morning walk with a happy heart. This morning, my spoon scrapes the last of the oatmeal that clings to ridges of the blue bowl. The sound seems oddly loud and unfamiliar, making me look up to see the sunrise as Tilly rests in her bed by the door. Then I remember the long-ago winter mornings when he asked, “Did you put a pinch of salt in the water?” and Tilly waited for her slab of banana a la Elvis, a small connection that feeds my heart today. PS Claudia Watson is a longtime contributor to PineStraw and The Pilot who finds the joy in each day.

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OUT OF THE BLUE

The Kitty Chronicles, Part VI The odd couple and the cat lady By Deborah Salomon

Happy New Year, and welcome to my annual kitty column.

Backstory: I love animals. More important, I trust and admire them. As a lifelong rescuer/adopter I have experienced many beautiful food-based relationships with stray and feral kitties, lost dogs, a retired racing greyhound, a pair of Pekin ducks and thousands of grateful squirrels, birds, possums and other wild creatures. Coyotes and foxes don’t make the cut, for obvious reasons. Once I found homes for 32 kittens before capturing mama and having her spayed. That year, when my family asked what I wanted for my birthday, I answered a Hav-a-Heart trap. Enough, I thought, after moving here 12 years ago. I’ve done my part. Then a coal black kitty with satin-smooth fur and expressive eyes appeared at my door. He had been left behind by a family that moved. He made a nest beneath the bushes. I fed him outside for six months. Finally, on July 4, 2011, I opened the door to Lucky. He walked into the kitchen and sat down, awaiting bowl placement. After a good feed he hopped on the couch and fell asleep. He was home. I felt relieved. Black cats are special, soulful. I cannot resist them. I probably needed him more than he needed me. A year later I did the same for Hissy/Missy, who the neighbors called Everybody’s because she was fed by many. Hissy had a notched ear, indicating a spayed feral. She is a widebody, a patchwork of soft white underbelly fur and coarse mottled gray on top. One eye is crossed. She waddles. Lucky — sleek and shiny — had been neutered and declawed (horrible) but no microchip. I study them. I learn from them. They make me feel better. Go ahead . . . laugh. At least I’ll never need opioids. And I’ve met interesting people, uh, pawing through bitsy cans in the cat food aisle. Lucky has the best disposition I have ever encountered in an animal. He is a quiet gentleman, a thinker, a cuddler who literally looks before he leaps. I can honestly say that in eight years I have never heard Lucky hiss or growl, except when an unfamiliar cat passes by, and Lucky is safely behind a closed window. He gets along fine with a neighbor’s kitty. They hang out together on the porch, two old men sharing stories. Hissy, in contrast, is a fussbudget. I almost named her Edith after Archie Bunker’s “Dingbat” from All in the Family. For the first month or so, she hissed at me, at Lucky, at everything. Hence the name. Then, suddenly, she became sweet as sugar so now it’s Missy, although she will always be Hissy to me. They couldn’t be more different. But opposites attract, as evidenced by their relationship mimicking some marriages. He stands still when she grooms him. She follows him around, pushes him off his food bowl and his windowsill

perch. He has nests all over the house, which she tries to share. When he asks to go out, she follows . . . and is not far behind when he meows to come in. He accepts her affection and ministrations without noticeable response, let alone reciprocation. Except when Hissy was at the vet all day for treatment Lucky seemed unsettled, watchful. They communicate by nuance, by intense stares and twitching whiskers. “Supper could have been better,” Lucky twitches. “I like grain-free kibble laced with chicken livers best.” Actually, he likes to lick the underside of my yogurt cup top best. Greek vanilla, please. She reports the weather to him. “I went out. It’s raining. I came in. I went out again. Still raining. I came in. Went out again. Drizzling.” Come winter, each has a flannel-covered heating pad on the bed. His, for an arthritic hip. Hers because she pushed him off his. I try to position one for me (arthritic shoulder) — a lost cause. Since my catspeak is rusty we communicate physically. When Lucky wants something he finds me, paws my leg, makes eye contact and leads me to his objective — usually food or the door — front, in the morning, back in the afternoon, according to where the sun warms the chair cushion. If he wants laptime he just jumps. Missy is needy. She lives on attention, probably a result of a deprived kittenhood. Soon as I sit down, she’s there, kneading with her claws and purring. She thinks mealtime is whenever I’m in the kitchen. She rubs my legs, gets underfoot at the risk of having her paw stepped on. At least she doesn’t wake me at 3 a.m., asking for treats, which I keep in the bedside table drawer to pacify Lucky when he quietly but persistently paws for a snack. I rise early anyway, so I forgive him for reasons best expressed by Paul Simon: When you’re down and out . . . when evening falls so hard . . . I will comfort you . . . When darkness comes and pain is all around . . . I will lay me down, like a bridge over troubled water . . . You think I’m crazy, right? Did you hear about Dean Nicholson, the Scottish welder who decided to cycle around the world? He found an abandoned kitten in Bosnia, did all the necessary vetting, bought Nala a vest, a leash and a bike carrier and continued his journey for thousands of miles. When Nala gets tired of the basket she drapes herself around Dean’s neck and falls asleep. Their story made The Washington Post. As for sweet Lucky . . . and to a lesser extent, Missy, they prove that I’m a nutty old cat lady. But they’re just cats, right? Yes, just cats. That’s the best part. PS Deborah Salomon is a staff writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She may be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.

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That Old Feeling Maybe there’ll be something today

By R enee Whitmore

It’s a cold afternoon in January in

North Carolina. The wind whips against my face and turns my nose pink as I walk a quarter-mile down the gravel driveway to the mailbox.

For a moment an old anticipation fills me, then goes away just as fast. There won’t be anything fun waiting for me. There never is. I peer into the black metal box lined with rust and am greeted by a Piggly Wiggly advertisement cradling my water bill. I grab them, firmly shut the mailbox lid, and walk back up the gravel drive, careful not to step in puddles that may or may not turn to ice after the sun goes down. I chuckle. I still feel excited every single time I check the mail even though for the past 20 years, I have received no letters. Maybe a card or short note here or there, but none of those handwritten letters that stretch out for page after page after page. I started getting them when I was around 8 years old. I religiously read a magazine named Clubhouse filled with stories, games, even artwork. I read it cover to cover, and then cover to cover again. Even so, I almost missed it. On the very last page of the magazine, there was an ad for “free pen pals.” All you did was send your name and address to Clubhouse, and they would send you a pen pal in return! Giddy with a joy I could hardly contain, I cut out the ad, filled in my name and address, and stuck it in a stamped and carefully addressed envelope. Into the mailbox it went, red flag waving brightly to alert the postal worker there would be important outgoing mail that day. I waited. I checked the mailbox multiple times a day. Maybe my reply would come special delivery. A week stretched into two and then inched into three, and then . . . There it was. Clubhouse responded after three weeks and two days. Just for me. The name and address of my new pen pal. Mary from Washington State. She was 8, too. She had dark brown hair, five brothers, and liked to play soccer. We wrote letters back and forth for several years. We wrote about all the

things that 8-year-olds used to talk about: playing outside, riding bikes, annoying brothers, pizza, that kind of stuff. Pretty soon I had another pen pal. Carrie from Canada. Carrie liked cats, parties, and she always wrote about her boyfriend, Derek, which at that point, I thought was just yuck. Pretty soon I gained more pen pals. One from Florida. One from California. One from Indiana. A few from Texas. One from Austria. All through my childhood and well into my teenage years, I spent my afternoons and evenings writing letters to people all over the world. On an average day, I might get five or 10 letters in the mail. I would read and reread my letters, spread them out across my bed, and start writing back to whoever was on top. It was the most exciting part of my day. Nothing made me happier than pouring my heart into writing to someone I had never even met. At least not in person. My family and friends bought me stationery, envelopes and stamps for Christmas. The rest of the year I used my own money for the essentials. At 14 I started working for a catering company just to support my pen-paling habit. Eventually, my pen pals started to dwindle, and I started letting too much time pass before I wrote back to them. After a while, the letters built up into a pile waiting for a response. Life evolved into other interests, and my pen pals just kind of . . . faded into the background. Now, at 36, I have no pen pals. In fact, I wonder if anyone writes and receives letters in the mail anymore. I Googled pen pals, and the first hit is a “social networking app that allows you to send messages and easily make friends all over the world.” Cool, I guess, but it doesn’t seem quite the same. Not page after page after page. Not piles of paper spread out on your bed. Still, Monday through Saturday — except holidays, of course — around 3 p.m., my heart beats a little faster when I see the mail truck rattling down my road. A familiar hope returns. I reach into my mailbox and pull out a Pinehurst Toyota advertisement. Oh, and there’s another bill in there. Looks like Spectrum. The most pen pals I had at one given time was 80. Not even I get that many bills. PS When Renee isn’t teaching English or being a professional taxi driver for her two boys, she is working on her first book.

Sandhills Photography Club

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CLASS A WINNERS

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CLASS B WINNERS

1st Place: Andrew Steidinger - Past Pleasures

2nd Place: Andrew Steidinger - Maine Morning

1st Honorable Mention: Nancy Brown - Water Lily Lane

3rd Place: Anne Steidinger - Boat Bevy

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2020

Sandhills Photography Club

CLASS C WINNERS

2nd Place: Tobe Saskor - Future Olympian

1st Place: Tobe Saskor - Tranquil Morning

3rd Place: Jennifer German - Chihuly Afloat 1st Honorable Mention: Donna Ford - Floating Solo

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January

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B I R D WA T C H

Keep Your Eye on the Sparrows Dark-eyed Juncos return to these parts in cold weather

By Susan Campbell

“The snowbirds are back!” No, not the

thin-blooded retirees — you won’t see them until spring. But you will see the little black-and-white, sparrowlike birds that appear under feeders when the mercury dips here in central North Carolina. They can be found in flocks, several dozen strong in places. And, in spite of what you might think, they are far from dependent on birdseed in winter.

Dark-eyed juncos are a diverse and widely distributed species, with six populations recognized across the United States, Canada and Mexico. Some have white wing bars, others sport reddish backs, and the birds in the high elevations of the Rockies are recognized by the extensive pinkish feathering on their flanks. Our eastern birds are known as “slate-colored juncos” for their dark-brown to gray feathering. As with most migrant songbirds, their migratory behavior is based on food availability, not weather. Flocks will fly southward, stopping where they find abundant grasses and forbs. They will continue traveling once the food plants have been stripped of seed. Dark-eyed juncos can be found throughout North America at different

times of the year. During the breeding season, juncos are found at high elevation across the boreal forests nesting in thick evergreens. Our familiar slatecolored variety breeds as close as the high elevations of the Appalachians. You can find them easily around Blowing Rock and Boone year round. Watch for male juncos advertising their territories up high in fir or spruce trees. They will utter sharp chips and may string together a series of rapid call notes that sounds like the noise emitted by a “phaser” of Star Trek fame. In winter, flocks congregate in open and brushy habitats. Juncos are distinguished from other sparrows by their clean markings: dark heads with small, pale, conical bills, pale bellies and white outer tail feathers. Females have a browner wash and less of a demarcation between belly and breast than males. They hop around and feed on small seeds close to ground level. Some individuals can be quite tame once they become familiar with a specific place and particular people. Juncos do communicate frequently, using sharp trills to keep the flock together. They will not hesitate to dive for deep cover when alarmed. So the next time you come upon a flock along the roadside or notice juncos under your feeder, take a close look. These little birds will only be with us a few months, until day length begins to increase and they head back to the boreal forests from whence they came. PS Susan would love to hear from you. Send wildlife sightings and photos to susan@ncaves.com.

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SPORTING LIFE

Black Dark Sleet, snow, ducks and a dog

By Tom Bryant

Old duck hunters call it black dark.

PHOTOGRAPHY COURTSEY OF TOM BRYANT

That’s when you crawl out of a warm bed at three in the morning, wander sleepily to the door of the cabin in your skivvies, stick your head out to check the weather, and report back to the boys. The guys are slowly muttering, pulling on long underwear and heavy socks before grabbing a cup of coffee. You report, “Men, it’s sleeting mixed with snow, colder than Aunt Sylvia’s horse holder in January, and black dark. It’s perfect!”

That’s the way it was on one of my last duck hunts at Bob Hester’s duck club right off Lake Mattamuskeet. Black dark. When we trooped out of the little motel where we were staying for the duration, sleet was falling, bouncing off our hats like little grains of sand. As we loaded up and drove out of town toward Bob’s barn, the headquarters for the day’s hunt, Bryan said, “Man, it’s black dark out there.” The little town of Engelhard has a few pole lights on street corners, and some of the stores were lit with night lights, but it didn’t take long to leave the town with its soft glow and move into the blackness of the country. Bryan followed up his darkness statement with, “I hope y’all brought your flashlights.” I remembered the little Mag flash I had repacked with new batteries. I remembered the batteries but didn’t remember putting the little light in my gunning bag. Could be trouble, I thought. The headlights of the truck pierced the coal-black night with just enough brightness that we saw the turn to Bob’s farm as we rode by it. Bryan stopped the truck, backed up, made the turn, and it was a short ride to the barn where we would get our marching orders.

There were two big pole lights on either side of the barn, creating a halo effect with the sleet and snow reflecting back on the building. Bob was inside his walled-off office with his feet propped up on his desk, leaning back next to a glowing, cherry-red woodstove that radiated heat across the room. Bob Hester is famous across the Southeast with diehard duck hunters. He has gained his reputation after many years of studying species of ducks and their habitats. As Big Tom, a resident of Fairfield and the owner of a thriving duck cleaning business, says, “Mr. Bob knows more about ducks than ducks know about ducks.” “Well, boys,” Bob said as he dropped his feet off the desk and stood up, “I hope y’all are ready to do some serious ducking. The weather’s right, and the ducks are here. It ought to be a good hunt. Grab your gear and let’s load up. You’ll need flashlights. It’s black dark out there.” We hustled to the truck, pulled on our waders, grabbed our gunning bags and shotguns, and lastly, pulled out our flashlights. Luckily, I found my light just where I had stowed it, in the top pocket of my bag. It’s one of those waterproof stainless steel Mag lights about the size of a candle and works great in close quarters, but if I had to light up any distance, I was out of luck. We crammed ourselves in the open bed of Bob’s pickup, and he looked in the back just before cranking up and heading out. “You boys all loaded and ready? It’s about a 15-minute ride. Hang on to your gear. There’s a couple of wet spots I’ll have to negotiate before we get there. Could be some slipping and sliding.” He was right. The dikes we were driving over had holes from the weather and from regular wear and tear. Muskrats didn’t help as they dug and undermined the sides of the dikes in some cases. Bryan’s little dog, Babe, snuggled up under my legs trying to escape some of the snow that was coming down harder. Babe was a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon and will retrieve anything from a duck to a squirrel; and as it worked out, she would see a lot of action before the morning was over. After a short time, Bob’s truck slowed and came to a stop. He stepped out of the cab and said, “OK, boys, this is the jumping-off point.” He shined his big

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SPORTING LIFE

handheld spotlight out across the black water. As we unloaded from the bed of the truck, we watched with some trepidation as the light illuminated the tree line. “The boat with the decoys is right here on the bank. If I was you, I’d put my coats in the boat until you wade across the canal. The water is a little deep and will come up right high on your waders, probably wet your coats if you leave ’em on. The canal ends right yonder.” He pointed his light to the low growing brush at the beginning of the swamp on the other side of the deep black canal water. It was about 30 yards. We loaded our gear along with our coats and prepared to shove the skiff off the bank. Bob pointed to me. “Tom, you’re the tallest, go ahead and step in so we can see how high the water is on you.” “Why don’t I paddle the little boat over to the other side and then step in where it’s shallow.” “Naw, wouldn’t work. That skiff wouldn’t hold you. She’d sink.” I looked down at the inky dark water, took a breath, and eased myself down. The water came up over my hips, but I had enough free board on my waders to make it across, unless I stepped in a hole. Bob shined his big light toward what looked like a cut in the brush on the other side. “See that hole in the brush? You can put your coats on when you get there. It’s relatively shallow after that. Red survey tape placed on some trees will mark the way to the blind. It’s a couple hundred yards. I’ll come back and pick you up around noon. Y’all wear ’em out.” He climbed into his truck, and we watched as the glow of his taillights disappeared down the dike. It was black dark, and our little lights were like pinpricks in the darkness. It started sleeting in earnest, looking like little pebbles splashing in the canal channel. Bryan put Babe in the small skiff, and I pulled it over to the cut in the brush, then put on my hunting coat. The sleet changed to snow. It didn’t take long for us to assemble on the other side and start our forced march across the sleetcovered marsh toward the blind. Bryan’s little dog stayed in the skiff with the gear and decoys as if to say, “I ain’t getting out there. Are you crazy?” The hunt was many years ago, and it was to go down in the journal as one of the best. Hester has since taken his club super private, which means I can no longer afford it. Neither can any of my hunting buddies. All we have now are memories of what Hester called the “woods blind,” the snow on that winter morning, and that expression of old duck hunters: The night was truly black dark. PS Tom Bryant, a Southern Pines resident, is a lifelong outdoorsman and PineStraw’s Sporting Life columnist.

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G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L

The Boss The wit and wisdom of Claude Harmon By Lee Pace

Every morning in the late 1970s at

Winged Foot Golf Club, Lex Alexander had three jobs: Make the toast, pour the coffee, and sit down with Claude Harmon and review Harmon’s lesson schedule for the day. From there, who knows?

Alexander, the young assistant professional, was ready for anything tagging along with the 1948 Masters champion and renowned head pro at the venerable club in Mamaroneck, New York. He would certainly be entertained, educated and regaled with insights and stories from Harmon’s lively career in golf. He’d do some physical labor, e.g., teeing balls up for the older members as Harmon tried to eke out a hair more clubhead release through their impact position. To be Harmon’s right-hand man at one of America’s finest clubs was high cotton for a boy from Charlotte. “For four years, I had the best job in golf,” Alexander says. “You hung around ‘The Boss’ and listened to him tell stories, you watched him teach, you gave your own lessons and then you played or practiced. You got to play a lot of golf. He wanted you to be a good player. He said, ‘Don’t be going out there and shooting 78.’ He said, ‘You don’t have to answer the phone and sell gloves. I can hire other people to do that.’ “He was such a character. Boy, was he funny.” Harmon was just 33 years old and working at Winged Foot when he won the Masters, beating Cary Middlecoff by five shots. The club pro business was better suited to Harmon during that era given he would have six children (with sons Butch, Craig, Claude II and Billy following him into the golf business), and there was meager money on the pro tour. So he served more than three decades at Winged Foot with winters spent at Seminole Golf Club in Palm Beach, Florida, and later at Thunderbird Country Club in Palm Springs, California. Alexander fell into Harmon’s sphere of orbit in 1975 at the suggestion of John Buczek, a fellow Wake Forest University golfer who had worked at Winged Foot, and Davis Love Jr., who’d taught Alexander the game at Charlotte Country Club in the 1960s and was friends with Harmon. Lex played golf at Wake Forest in the early 1970s on teams that featured Lanny Wadkins, Curtis Strange, Jim Simons and Eddie Pearce, among others. He caddied on the PGA Tour for a couple of seasons out of college, then decided to test the golf instruction waters at Love’s suggestion. Looking back four decades later, Alexander chafes that Harmon didn’t get the recognition and respect that Alexander feels he deserved. Harmon gave lessons to presidents Kennedy, Nixon and Ford, and the Moroccan king, Hassan II. He nurtured an impressive list of young pros like Mike Souchak, Dave Marr, Rod Funseth, Dick Mayer and Jackie Burke, in addition to his own sons. “I would submit that Claude Harmon was a golfing genius,” says Alexander, who lives in Durham and is a regular at Duke University Golf Club. “Every lesson was awe-inspiring. His eyes were blue with a definite twinkle. With each shot, his eyes would dart from the set-up to the club as it

swung back, then he took a mental photograph of the clubface position at the top. He had a keen sense of sound as well and would listen intently for clues when club impacted ball. Then he would pick up the flight of the ball and watch until it fell to the ground. He always said, ‘Lex, watch the ball. The ball doesn’t lie.’” Harmon was famous for executing and teaching bunker shots and was pictured on the cover of Golf Digest in 1972 saying, “Get Out of Sand With One Hand!” “The Boss would do a clinic or an outing of some kind,” Alexander says. “He would say, ‘OK, here’s the deal! I’m going to explain the fundamentals of playing a bunker shot, then I’m going to hit a few, but once I make my first one, we are out of here!’ “I remember there was one night that he made the first shot, and, true to his word, he climbed out of the bunker and bid the crowd farewell.” Harmon once had Alexander break a branch of about 4 feet in length from a nearby hedge and then swing the branch as if he were swinging a golf club. Harmon watched and turned to his pupil. “Do you hear that noise?” Harmon asked, then gave the branch to the golfer and implored him to swing the branch and “Let me hear some noise!” Soon enough, the older fellow was cracking pure 5-iron shots. “As we rode back to the clubhouse, the Boss said to me, ‘I hope you learned something here this morning because you just witnessed a miracle,’” Alexander says. On more than one occasion Alexander can remember Harmon taking umbrage when a member told him he was flying to Florida and taking a lesson from Bob Toski, another prominent teacher of the era. After one such trip, Harmon queried the man about his session with Toski. “What did Mr. Toski teach you?” Claude asked. “He strengthened my left-hand grip,” the member answered. Harmon didn’t flinch. “Did he teach you how to chip out of the woods?” Harmon thumbed his nose at much of the convention in the golf instruction business. Among his pet peeves were articles and advice telling golfers to “Take it back low and slow” or “You need to slow your swing down.” He also took no truck in instructors who couldn’t play a lick themselves. “The Boss used to say, ‘Teachers who never had any success playing, why

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would you listen to them? If they knew what they were talking about, they would make themselves a good player,’” Alexander says. The rotund Harmon loved to eat and was at his best holding court at the dinner table with a cocktail and big piece of meat. Alexander laughs at a standard line when Harmon perused the menu in a new restaurant. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he would tell the waiter. “I don’t want anything swimming or flying. Four legs on the ground for me.” Harmon loved pork chops and eggs for breakfast and hated turkey at Thanksgiving. “If those Pilgrims had a taste of a nice rib eye, we wouldn’t have to eat this dry turkey every Thanksgiving,” Harmon said every November. Overweight and ridden with high cholesterol, Harmon spent time in a cardiac program at a Houston clinic near where son Dickie lived and worked at River Oaks Country Club. Miserable at being starved and fed healthy food, Harmon one day paid a window washer $100 to bring him a meatball sub. “It took him two hours to remove all the evidence,” Alexander says. “He had sauce all over his face and gown. He told the guy, ‘I don’t know where you’re washing windows tomorrow, but there is another $100 where that came from!’” Harmon didn’t suffer fools well, and one of Alexander’s favorite stories involves a member at River Oaks who was struggling with his bunker play and came to Dick Harmon for help. Dick hit a wall in helping the guy and brought his dad in for a consultation. The Boss worked with the man for half an hour, then told him to adjust his hands on the club. “Pro, you want me to change my grip?” the man exclaimed. “I just won a toon-a-mint in Abilene! I can’t change my grip.” The Boss said, “Dickie, what’s the soup in the grill room today? I’m all done!” Alexander left the golf business when Harmon exited Winged Foot in 1979, and he his wife, Ann, moved to Durham, where they opened a health food store and later sold it to a burgeoning young company out of Austin, Texas, called Whole Foods. He stayed on as a consultant for many years with the flexibility to pursue interests in classical music, art, wine, gourmet cooking and playing golf with the guys at Duke and his summer club in the mountains, Blowing Rock Country Club. The guys in Lex Alexander’s gang have had a steady diet of Claude Harmon stories for many years. PS Longtime PineStraw golf columnist Lee Pace remembers Lex Alexander’s rhythmic and flowing golf swing from covering the Durham Amateur in the early 1980s for the Durham Morning Herald.

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January �� Musings on Fitness Do I dare to eat a peach? - T.S. Eliot Calculating carbs and calories, logging laps in the pool, miles on the bike, my walks in the woods. Examining family photos, genetic code for metabolism that screwed up our capacity to eat ice cream with impunity. Questioning the processing of wheat, golden staff of life, meant to sustain, not kill us. Thinking about endless revolutions on a stationary bike, or the treadmill, going nowhere but into looser pants, if I’m lucky. Thousands of folks doing the same, spinning away, all over the nation. What if we spent that same energy raking leaves for those too old to scratch the dirt themselves? Or building something — a giant calorie-burning skyscraper, or tap-dancing or waltzing to make ourselves smile? Sometimes I am jealous, of my grandparents, never thin, never fat, farmers who ate eggs, bacon, and biscuits with molasses, and never once logged their work in the fields. I miss their apple pie, MaMa’s light yellow pound cake. Most of all, I miss not fretting about it. — Laura Lomax

Son Also Rises The

A steady hand guides the Pinehurst Resort By Bill Fields • Photographs by John Koob Gessner

n a sunny, warm day in late September, the golf courses at Pinehurst Resort and Country Club were full and the streets in the village bustled. Coming up on 125 years since James Walker Tufts founded Pinehurst as a retreat for the sick, his creation — long since having evolved into a haven for recreation instead of recuperation —

seldom had seemed as robust. “There’s always opportunities to do better, but things are good right now,” Bob Dedman Jr. says, responding that afternoon to a visitor’s observation about the vitality. “God willing and the creek don’t rise — no more hurricanes, like 2018 — this should be our best year in the history of the property. Hopefully, that bodes well for the future as well.” Far beyond the bottom line, the past and the future often meld into discussions of the present for Dedman, who as owner of the historic property has been unafraid to take bold steps on the tightrope between yesterday and tomorrow. “It’s like the history of the resort has now come full circle,” says Audrey Moriarty, executive director of the Tufts Archives and Given Memorial Library. “It was started by one man who had a vision. And now we’re back essentially to one man who has a vision and who can see something that isn’t there. There is a strong parallel.” Over the last decade, under the leadership of Dedman and his management team — including President Tom Pashley — a destination that dawned in the 19th century has confidently polished its status in the 21st. Pinehurst’s No. 2 Course was dramatically restored to its Donald Ross-era glory by Bill Coore and Ben Crenshaw; Gil Hanse renovated the No. 4 Course, crafting a stellar design on some of the best golf land in the Sandhills; near the clubhouse Hanse also created The Cradle, a nine-hole par 3 layout that can be

played with a couple of clubs, and Thistle Dhu, a putting course, both with an emphasis on fun. An abandoned steam plant was transformed into the popular Pinehurst Brewing Co.; The Deuce became a perfect après-golf grill overlooking the 18th green of No. 2; the members’ clubhouse and Carolina Hotel dining room were renovated; new swimming, fitness and beach facilities were constructed for members; and, more recently, the Manor Inn was refurbished, a wholesale spiffing-up that echoes what was done to a dilapidated Holly Inn years ago. “We’ve always gone back and tried to be more authentic and restore the character of Pinehurst,” says Dedman, general partner of Putterboy, Ltd. “But at the same time, contemporize and make it so the legacy will last — allow it to be more relevant for the next hundred years. Part of it is looking back, but part of it is about always looking forward.” Pinehurst has been part of the Dedman family business since 1984, when ClubCorp, founded by Robert H. Dedman Sr., purchased the property from a consortium of banks, adding to its large stable of golf courses and city clubs. The Tufts family had sold in 1970 to Diamondhead Corporation, whose focus was on selling lots and condominiums, many of the latter built only a mild slice off the fairways of the No. 3 and No. 5 courses. The jewel, No. 2, had returned to hosting tour golf, but much of its architectural essence was lost. By the time Diamondhead (then called Purcell) turned Pinehurst over to the banks in 1982, there was a lot of debt and no less consternation about what had changed in the decade-plus of corporate ownership. Dedman Sr., whose vast wealth couldn’t have been more different from his dirt-poor roots in rural Arkansas, had built his empire buying distressed clubs and turning them around. At Pinehurst, he saw huge opportunity in the formidable challenge. “The first time I stood in front of the clubhouse and looked out on all those

ribbons of fairway, I got tears in my eyes,” he told Sports Illustrated in 1999. “I had always venerated Pinehurst for its place in the history of golf, and when I finally saw it I knew instantly that we would take this fallen angel and make it not as good as it was, but better than it had ever been.” The elder Dedman was a striver for the ages, leaving a house without electricity or indoor plumbing to reside with an aunt in Dallas in order to seek an education and a different way of life. Bob Sr. got multiple degrees, became an attorney and later a wildly successful businessman. He was a billionaire who gave away millions, far exceeding his childhood plan to be worth $50 million by age 50 and give away $1 million annually to good causes. (Southern Methodist University, where the law school is named for the Dedman family and Bob Jr. is chairman of the university’s board of trustees, has received more than $80 million in donations from the family.) Bob Sr. commanded a room, a talker who could quote the classic poets and more earthy philosophers with equal ease. “He has more sayings than anybody I’ve ever met,” Lamar Hunt, who founded the American Football League and owned the Kansas City Chiefs, told The New York Times in 1986. “He’s the only person who, while playing tennis, will get your ears tired before your legs.” Despite his success, Dedman never lost his feel for the everyman. As Bob Jr. noted in a tribute following his father’s death, at age 76, in 2002, “He inherently knew the wisdom of the Italian proverb, ‘At the end of the game, they put the king and the pawn back in the same box,’” Bob Jr. wrote in the SMU Law Review. Bob Jr. was born in 1957, the same year his father got into the golf club business by starting Brookhaven Country Club in Dallas. Although it was a single facility, his optimism showed in the name for his new company: Country Clubs, Inc. “I am incredibly fortunate,” Bob Jr. says. “There are two things they say parents give kids — one is roots and the other is wings. And that’s really about the values. Neither my father nor my mother, Nancy, were perfect, but they gave us opportunities, an education and values that were a foundation for the future. They encouraged us to be involved with our communities and have a positive

impact on a lot of people.” The younger Dedman acknowledges that his dad “was bigger than life,” an extrovert whose achievements were all the more striking given the hardscrabble circumstances of his early years. Bob Jr. — who returned to ClubCorp in 1987 as chief financial officer after three years in investment banking, was named president and chief operating officer in 1989, chief executive officer in 1998 and chairman of the board in 2002 — isn’t as voluble. “He’s kind of a quiet man but confident,” Moriarty says. “He says what he means and gets what he wants, but not in a pushy way. I personally find him to be very kind.” Hanse discovered the same thing when he and his design partner, Jim Wagner, took on the tasks of creating The Cradle and Thistle Dhu, then rebuilding the No. 4 course. “Bob has been extremely gracious to my wife, Tracey, and me and our whole team,” says Hanse. “He uses the phrase, ‘We’re happy to have you be part of the Pinehurst family now,’ and as someone who loves the history of the game and appreciates the role Pinehurst has had in the history of golf in the United States, that means so much to me.” In 2006, ClubCorp sold its large portfolio of golf properties but kept the one that had come to mean so much to the Dedman family. From that point, Bob Jr. has led one project after another at Pinehurst to try to ensure its popularity and relevance — to make a revered place even better. “It’s that balance we try to strike, between the old and the new,” Dedman says. “We’ve got to get that balance right. We’re always mindful of that.” If his father’s era at Pinehurst had been about fixing what neglect and misguided management had caused following the sale by the Tufts family, under Dedman Jr., the resort has innovated beyond a solid status quo. “I think the village can learn from them,” says Kevin Drum, a council member since 2017 who established the Drum & Quill Public House in 2014. “They’re thinking long-term, re-investing. You make your future, you just don’t let it happen — you don’t wait for your future to occur. His dad was an empire builder, but what Jr. has done to build on the Pinehurst legacy, which is pretty spectacular, might be harder.”

The Cradle

Pinehurst Brewing Company With the 2014 U.S. Open on the near horizon following successful Opens in 1999 and 2005, and the Great Recession having hammered Pinehurst’s revenue stream, Dedman nonetheless decided to set in motion a dramatic change to the No. 2 course. “Restoring No. 2 frankly took a lot of fortitude,” Dedman says of Coore and Crenshaw’s 2010 wholesale transformation. “I'm sure Bill and Ben were nervous, as we were. You try not to make too many bet-the-farm decisions. It would have been an embarrassment, clearly, if it hadn’t worked out well. But we needed to get back to the design intent of Ross.” Hanse says, “Gutsy is the perfect word. To 95 percent of people in the golf world, it was not broken. But the reality was it had strayed so far from Ross’ vision and gone in a completely different direction. None of this (Pinehurst’s subsequent golf development) happens without Bob’s decision to restore No. 2. That got the ball rolling.” As with the work of Coore and Crenshaw, Dedman gave Hanse the freedom to create once a goal was established. “Every architect would love to have an owner like that,” Hanse says, “to allow us to focus on the details of accomplishing the big-picture goals. Some people get more in the weeds and the details and others are less involved. I think Bob struck a very happy medium about that. He was knowledgeable about what was going on — and interested and invested in it — but he wasn’t, for lack of a better phrase, meddlesome. We fully expect a client is going to poke and prod and ask constructive questions, and we better have the answers. Bob was able to do that in such a gracious, gentlemanly way.” Although he isn’t a carbon copy of his father, Dedman’s management style does take cues from him. “One of the lessons I learned from my father is the more our people do and the less I do the better off we all do,” he says. “You’ve got to give people the vision, of what you’re trying to accomplish, but then let them figure out how to execute it best.” Dedman’s decision to turn the former steam plant into a brewery arguably was as bold as going ahead with the facelift of No. 2 course. “They thought I’d lost my mind,” he recalls of when he first broached the idea with his staff. “It had been decommissioned years prior and was kind of our white-elephant burial ground — just for storage, literally falling down and overgrown with vegetation. I just thought it was an incredible opportunity to take an unused asset and turn it around and make it something viable for the community.” The Pinehurst Brewing Co. celebrated its first anniversary in the fall, golfers and non-golfers alike drawn in droves to the beer and food served in the

stunning revival of a building that had been left to die. “I’ve always said Pinehurst (resort) is the anchor in my mall, and I couldn’t be here if they weren’t here,” says Tom Stewart, who opened Old Sport & Gallery, a golf art and memorabilia shop in the village in 1997. “I don’t think the resort has been this busy since before 9/11. And that translates to my business too. It’s always been a company town. It’s diversified a bit, but it’s still a golf town.” Although Dedman, a father of two daughters, still lives in Dallas with his wife, Rachael, he comes to Pinehurst monthly, staying in Fownes Cottage. “I’d like to think we have a good relationship with the village and that it’s getting better,” he says. “We each have our proper roles, but we like to partner with the village. We’re here for the long haul, and so are they. Hopefully, it’s a synergistic and symbiotic relationship. It needs to be a win-win for both of us.” Dedman might not be in the village as often as his father was, but is active and visible in the Sandhills on his visits. “He’s smart as can be, and he listens to people,” Stewart says. “He’s going to make it a better community by being involved.” Pinehurst is a much larger community than it was when ClubCorp purchased the resort in 1984, the village population roughly tripling, to more than 15,000 in that span. “I think we need to have responsible growth,” Dedman says. “You don’t ever want to see this place get too big. It does need to grow and change and be consistent with the expectations of the times and its citizens and meet their needs. But hopefully not denigrate the special character of this place.” As for golf — what has underpinned Pinehurst as much as longleaf pines and fresh air — Hanse believes the smart innovation led by Dedman is key. “I think they have to continue pushing that very fine line between respect for the tradition of Pinehurst and the interjection of sort of modern thoughts and approaches to what makes golf fun and interesting,” Hanse says. “I think so far, they’ve struck the perfect balance. I hope they continue to do that and expect that they will.” What might Pinehurst look like 35 years from now? “Hopefully, it is golf heaven on earth,” Dedman says. “I hope we’re able to embellish the character of it even more so than we have. There is something special about this place — part golf, of course, but it goes beyond that. It’s the village and quality of people in this community. It’s our employees and our members. Our family’s been fortunate to be involved with ownership. But it’s definitely not a possession. It’s more than that.” PS

The

Best of the Beasts A Sandhills Hall of Fame for extraordinary animals By Bill Case

Newport Dream and Del Cameron

n 1953, Newport Dream swept honors as the country’s best 2-year-old trotter, winning 11 of 12 races. Following this remarkable campaign, the colt wintered at the Pinehurst Race Track, which, according to the horse’s owner, Octave Blake, provided “the greatest climate in the world to train a horse.” As Newport Dream rested and the ’54 racing season approached, Blake and trainer-driver Del Cameron eagerly looked forward to the prospect of their horse winning one, or all, of harness racing’s vaunted Triple Crown events for 3-year-olds. But in mid-March, Cameron noticed that the bay was demonstrating acute soreness in his left foreleg. Swollen knees on the trotter’s forelegs were also evident. An alarmed Del consulted Sandhills area veterinarians, but none were able to determine the underlying cause of the horse’s lameness. One vet tried to pinpoint the location of the ailment by blocking a nerve. That treatment backfired, resulting in an infection. “We just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him,” recalled Cameron. “We had him in bubble baths, diathermy machines, and we tried just about everything.” In April, the horse was transported to Blake’s Newport Stock Farm in Vermont. But as spring rolled into summer, Newport Dream’s lameness continued. Blake and Cameron feared their champion would not recover in time to compete in the Triple Crown’s first leg, the Hambletonian Stakes, run in August at Goshen, New York. “He was too sore to race, and I couldn’t train him,” reflected Cameron. In late July, Dream’s condition finally improved enough for Octave and Del to enter the colt in the Hambletonian Prep. He ran surpris-

ingly well, finishing second in both heats, and appeared none the worse for wear. Encouraged, the hopeful owner and trainer trailered Dream to Goshen for the main event. To the astonishment of most, Newport Dream won the Hambletonian’s first heat going away. However, Cameron observed that the horse appeared a bit sore upon stepping onto the track for the decisive second heat. Nonetheless, he managed to maneuver the gritty Dream to a narrow lead at the top of the stretch. As trailing mounts challenged in the final hundred feet, Cameron “reached up and tapped the colt once, and he responded enough to win.” Horse racing aficionados hailed Newport Dream’s plucky comeback. So did Cameron. “He has a heart as big as that bucket of oats,” gushed the renowned trainer-driver following his sensational ride. If a Hall of Fame existed for exceptional Sandhills beasts, Newport Dream would get in on the first ballot. And if such a Valhalla existed, he’d have plenty of company. Winning races is one qualification, but others have excelled in their own domains. The Pine Crest Inn’s orange tabby cat, Marmaduke, was such a fixture in his habitat that his exploits (or perhaps lack thereof) were recognized far beyond the county’s territorial limits. Rescued from the Haven-Friends for Life no-kill shelter in Raeford, Marmaduke came to the Pine Crest a decade ago. Two female orange tabbies of long service, both named Marmalade, successively preceded him as the inn’s resident cat. Marmalades II and I are remembered today with bricks inscribed with their names located at the foot of the Pine Crest’s front door entrance.

Marmaduke was unfriendly and reclusive when he first arrived in 2009. “We advised guests not to try petting him,” recalls Andy Hofmann, a member of the Barrett family that has owned the Pine Crest for decades. But over time, the tabby adapted to his role as the Pine Crest’s unofficial ambassador, warming up to patrons and employees alike. “Now, when our regulars arrive for cocktails around 4:30 p.m.,” says Hofmann, “he jumps on their laps.” Marmaduke’s long tenure has not been without incident. A few years ago, he turned up missing and was feared fur-napped. To the relief of everyone, Marmaduke was returned the following day by a sheepish (and apparently desperately nearsighted) woman who had mistaken the miffed tabby for her own lost kitty. Today when guests step onto the Pine Crest porch, they often check Marmaduke’s shelter for a bit of reassurance that the venerable and exceedingly well-fed feline still prowls the premises. Like the Putter Boy statue, Marmaduke and the orange tabbies that preceded him — and those who, in the inexorable march of time, are likely to follow — are permanent and beloved Pinehurst sentinels.

Shiloh There is another Hall-worthy four-legged tourist attraction currently gracing the streets (as opposed to the track) of Pinehurst. Shiloh, standing 16 hands and weighing in at 1,400 pounds, is the friendly, carrot-chomping horse that for 12 years has pulled carriage loads of enthralled visitors through the village’s historic district. Driver Frank Riggs, who operates Carriage Tours of Pinehurst Village Inc., swears the 18-year-old is the ideal carriage horse. “Traffic doesn’t bother Shiloh,” says Riggs. “About the only thing that can startle her are skateboarders whizzing by from behind if she doesn’t hear them coming.” Riggs obtained Shiloh from Holmes County, Ohio, where she previously pulled an Amish farmer’s buggy. She is the offspring of a Percheron, a large draft horse breed, and a Morgan, a smaller pleasure horse. According to Riggs, that type of crossbreeding is common practice for the Amish. In 40 years of commercial carriage driving, Riggs has worked with a number of animals in harness. While Shiloh rates as his top horse, he also has fond memories of Moonshine, a mule he drove a few years back. “Moonshine wasn’t at all stubborn. He had lots of personality,” recalls Riggs. “When we’d pass The Village Chapel as

church was letting out, he thought everybody was rushing out to see him.” Shiloh and Moonshine aren’t the only working stiffs to have generated profits for their owners. Farm animals have been a staple of the Sandhills’ economy since the area’s settlement a century ago, but the unprecedented milk production of an Ayrshire cow known as Tootsie Mitchell created a truly exceptional income stream, as it were, for one Moore County farmer. Tootsie’s owner was Leonard Tufts, the Pinehurst kingpin who essentially operated the village and resort as his own private enterprise. Though the innumerable details of managing Pinehurst required his constant attention, Tufts always found time to devote to his favorite pastime — Ayrshire cattle. Some people collect stamps, others collect cows. As president and director of the Ayrshire Breeders’ Association, he immersed himself in the study of cattle breeding genetics. The crowning achievement of Tufts’ applied research was Tootsie, born in 1909. In her 12th year of milking, she produced a prodigious volume of 14,729 pounds of milk and 596.62 pounds of butterfat, much of which was consumed by Carolina Hotel guests. Moreover, Tootsie produced six female calves whose output approached their mother’s remarkable production. At a 1922 bankers’ conference held at The Carolina, Tufts touted Tootsie’s unparalleled liquefied achievements. Present on the hotel’s grounds was the great cow herself along with a huge can 6 feet in diameter and 17 feet tall, the volume of which matched Tootsie’s total milk production the previous year. An article in the Pinehurst Outlook predicted, “What this remarkable cow has accomplished will be talked about in every county in the state when the bankers go home.” Animals have caused a commotion in Pinehurst since the earliest days when the depredations of razorback hogs necessitated the erection of a wire fence around the periphery of the nascent town. Then, in 1905, after concluding that showcasing wild animals would provide a novel attraction for resort guests’ children, Leonard Tufts erected a small zoo on land across Palmetto Road from the present Village Chapel. Squirrels, owls, raccoons, opossums, Chinese pheasants, Belgian hares, peacocks and deer were exhibited in confined spaces in the “Deer Park.” The zoo would remain on those grounds until 1949. The final animal to exit was the ancient buck Bluebeard — a resident of Deer Park for so long no one could remember his arrival. Bluebeard surely belongs in the Hall based on his longevity, his association with the long-gone zoo, and the fact that he could well be the only individual deer not associated with Bambi that has a name. There is another animal that enjoyed a brief sojourn at the Pinehurst Zoo who deserves at least a bronze plaque in the Hall’s hall. During World War II, a black bear cub in Moore County became a national sensation. Gifted by Canadian paratroopers to their brethren in the U.S. Army, Joey found his way to Camp Mackall in 1943 as the beloved mascot of the 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment. The nearly-tame (hey, what could go wrong?) 200-pound bear reveled in his

role, playfully wrestling with the paratroopers. Like many in the regiment, he developed a taste for beer. Aside from imbibing, Joey’s favorite activity involved protracted bathing. The Pinehurst Outlook reported that Joey relished sitting in a tub under the shower. He would object “to having his baths interrupted and growled when soldiers removed him from his ablution.” In the fall of 1943, Joey’s regiment shipped out from Camp Mackall, forcing Joey to take a little personal time. The AWOL bear emerged from winter hibernation beneath the barracks the following March, and the newly encamped 515th regiment adopted him. His reappearance captured nationwide media attention. Then, in July 1944, orders came directing the 515th to depart for Europe. Though Joey seemed temperamentally suited to invade France, the regiment was not permitted to bring him along and no one remaining at Camp Mackall cared to assume his custody. On the eve of their farewell, several soldiers from the 515th gathered at a Southern Pines nightspot to ponder the seemingly unsolvable dilemma of finding Joey a new home. According to longtime area resident Tony McKenzie, the soldiers, perhaps by force of numbers, persuaded several Pinehurst boys on the premises, including 17-year-old Peter Tufts (Richard’s son) and McKenzie’s brother Jack, to take Joey off their hands. Alcohol may have been involved in the transaction. Tony McKenzie recalls that the resourceful young Tufts “worked late into the night making sure the bear was safe and secure,” at the zoo at Deer Park. The nationally known “paratrooper bear” had the additional benefit of boosting zoo attendance, bringing in more visitors than ever before. Peter Tufts and his cohorts accompanied Joey on daily unleashed romps through the park. But after a number of Pinehurst mothers complained that an untethered bear posed an unacceptable risk to the safety of neighborhood children, Joey was banished from the zoo and taken to a farm in Eastwood, where he lived until he journeyed to that big hot tub in the sky. While Joey experienced his 15 minutes of fame, Talamore Golf Resort’s llama caddies seem to have had more legs. They’ve been making news in the golf world since the course’s opening in 1991. After learning that donkeys had been successfully employed as caddies in South America, Talamore’s owner decided to try another pack animal — the llama — in the same capacity. Stunningly, or maybe not, no golf course had used llama caddies before, and Talamore’s promotional literature hyped that novelty in its marketing. Two llamas acquired from Vermont, Billy and Dollie Llama, were trained to carry double bags over the hilly Rees Jones-designed layout. Accompanied by their handler, the llamas effortlessly, and mostly quietly, marched up Talamore’s fairways, their camel-like hooves doing no damage to the turf. Though aloof and silent when asked to read putts, Billy and Dollie never squawked about low tips, satisfying the time-honored three cardinal rules of caddying: “show up, keep up, and shut up.” Billy and Dollie Llama, golf pioneers, have rama llama ding-donged their way into the Hall of Fame. Through no fault of their own, the llama caddies proved a double-edged sword for Talamore. With fascinated golfers frequently stopping to photograph the animals, play slowed considerably. As a result, Talamore stopped using llama caddies a decade ago but, should there ever be a sudden llama emergency, the resort still

houses two of them in a pen adjacent to the 14th hole. The long-necked animals continue to be prominently displayed on the logo of Talamore hats, shirts and other paraphernalia. The resort’s “Llama Pen Bar & Grill” serves hungry and thirsty golfers at the clubhouse. The current general manager of Mid-South Club-Talamore Golf Resort, Matt Hausser, says management is weighing a possible return of the woolly caddies. In any event, they continue to be a source of wonderment. Hausser recalls the time a few years ago when “one of our workers came up to me and asked, ‘Just how many llamas is it we have right now?’ I answered, ‘Three.’ He responded, ‘Well, believe it or not, there’s four in the pen.’ Unbeknown to us, a female llama had delivered a baby.” In addition to Newport Dream and Shiloh, many area horses have distinguished themselves in jumping, cross-country, dressage and three-day event competitions. John Zopatti, who rides and trains horses at Gavilan Farm in Hoffman, is internationally recognized as a top dressage competitor, trainer, and coach. A United States Dressage Federation gold medalist and winner of many championships, Zopatti has ridden and trained a number of outstanding horses. He reserves a soft spot for a talented Andalusian gelding that was falling far short of his potential before Zopatti agreed to train him in February, 2015. At that time, Uwannabee WH (nicknamed “Slim”) was a nervous and tense animal — unfortunate qualities for a horse competing in the meticulously precise discipline of dressage. Zopatti brought Slim to Hoffman for the summer, and under his tutelage, the horse’s temperament dramatically improved. “Slim began taking good, confident rides in training and then reproducing them at the shows,” says Zopatti. With Zopatti aboard, the half-Arabian soon began regularly winning dressage competitions, ultimately taking home two national titles at shows held in Raleigh in 2015. Gavilan Farm’s owner, Will Faudree, is himself an internationally acclaimed four-star event rider. Antigua (nicknamed “Brad”) is the Australian Thoroughbred gelding Faudree rode to the Team Gold in event riding at the Pan American Games. He acknowledges that riding Brad helped “kick-start my competitive career” and marvels that in eight years of competition, “at the highest levels of the sport — including events at Rolex, Badminton, and Burghley — Brad never had a cross-country jump penalty. Now that’s one in a million!” At the venerable age of 30, Brad is enjoying his leisurely retirement at Gavilan Farm. Foxhunting is another Sandhills activity where a good mount is a must. Brothers Jack and James Boyd founded the Southern Pines-based Moore County Hounds (MCH) in 1914, and locals have been riding to the hounds over the vast acreage of the Walthour-Moss Foundation and the Sandhills Game Lands ever since. Boasting over 20 years of experience, Lincoln Sadler, huntsman of MCH, has ridden and observed his fair share of foxhunting horses. A retired state wildlife biologist, Sadler nominated the spirited and athletic Thoroughbred he personally rode from 2011 to 2018, Rusty Trawler. Possessing the ability to effortlessly clear the highest obstacles Rusty “could jump and hang in the air like Michael Jordan,” says Sadler. When it came to the organization’s famed pack of Penn-Marydel hounds (a strain emanating from Pennsylvania, Maryland and Delaware’s foxhunting

John Zopatti and Uwannabee WH areas), Sadler steadfastly refused to select an MVP, since the hounds are bred and trained not to stand out individually but to blend in. The Shangri-Las’ 1960s hit aside, there is no leader of the pack. “For instance,” points out Sadler, “you don’t want a hound that either outruns or does not keep up with the others.” If necessary, MCH may send a recalcitrant hound to another foxhunting pack where the animal is more likely to fit — Cool Hand Luke for hounds. The huntsman considers what he calls “biddability” (obedience) the most critical attribute for a foxhound. Greeting a stranger with a cacophony of yelps, a single command from Sadler can, like a choir director, silence the deafening chorus in a heartbeat. Just as the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame routinely chooses supergroups in addition to individual artists, so too should the Sandhills — the Moore County Hounds are in! Dorothy Starling, the historian for Weymouth Center for the Arts and Humanities, did happen to mention that MCH’s co-founder and first master of the hunt actually expressed his choice of a favorite in writing. James Boyd, a noted author of historical novels and poetry, penned an ode in remembrance of his departed foxhound Sorrowful and delivered it to family members gathered at Weymouth on Christmas night, 1938. Sorrowful was a ponderous dog indeed, But nevertheless, she was the best of her breed. The thing we realized the most was, That whether in Heaven or whether in Hell, There never was or will be A dog that could hunt so well. With apologies to the great Sorrowful and all the assembled hounds, the

all-time top canine performer was the astounding Dave, a black, tan and white English setter owned by the sharpshooting husband and wife duo of Frank Butler and Annie Oakley. In 1915, Leonard Tufts hired the 55-year-old Oakley along with Butler to work at the Pinehurst Gun Club, where they taught resort guests the fundamentals of skeet and trapshooting. Female guests in particular flocked to the club seeking Oakley’s instruction. In 1916 alone, over 1,800 women visited the range. The couple would remain Pinehurst mainstays until 1922 and so would Dave, a dog with unforgettably soulful eyes that Butler had adopted in Maryland. Oakley and Butler took part in numerous shooting exhibitions, wowing all onlookers with their rapid-fire trick shooting. A dazzling performer her entire life, Oakley was still able to smash 100 consecutive trapshooting targets at age 62. Though one suspects there would be an outcry of condemnation today, she began using Dave — a hunting dog unaffected by the sound of gunfire — in her exhibitions. Soon, she was shooting apples off the pooch’s unwavering head. If it makes card-carrying members of the ASPCA feel any better, it should be noted that Oakley used Butler’s noggin for the same purpose. The Pinehurst Outlook’s account of a February 1917 exhibition at the Gun Club expressed amazement at what was actually a routine Oakley performance. Before a crowd of 800, she “started on coins flipped into the air — she broke marbles on the fly, shot the cigarette out of Butler’s hand, and a hole through the apple on Dave’s head.” In fact, Dave may have been a bit of a ham. Following the shot, he “threw what was left of the apple into the air, caught it in his mouth and danced about in ecstasy to exhibit the puncture.” While Annie Oakley never grazed a hair on the obedient setter’s coat, Dave still met with a violent end, hit by a car in Leesburg, Florida, in February 1923. A heartbroken Butler dealt with the loss by authoring a book about his beloved dog, titled, The Life of Dave as Told by Himself.

Shakespeare wrote, “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.” An orange Carthage cat that won a national competition this summer surely falls into the final category. The feline, JeanClawed Van Damme, loosely named after the kickboxing actor, was the winner of Nationwide Insurance Company’s “Wackiest Pet Names” contest. Nationwide picked the winner from its database of 780,000 insured pets. In tribute to his overnight celebrity, Jean-Clawed is the final, and admittedly wackiest, Hall of Fame selection. So, there you have it: five horses, a pair of llamas, two cats, a mule, a cow, a deer, a bear, two dogs and the Moore County Hounds — the inaugural class of the Sandhills Animals Hall of Fame. Of course, there are undoubtedly other worthy candidates. Who, by way of example, could ever forget Pee-wee, Pinehurst’s trained quail? Relax, Pee-wee, don’t get your head plume in a twist. There’s always next year. PS Pinehurst resident Bill Case is PineStraw’s history man. He can be reached at Bill. Case@thompsonhine.com.

Second Act

How socialist politician Robert Hunter made the jump to celebrated golf course architect By Bill Case

n April 1909, Robert Hunter was still a fairly new golfer, having played the game just five years. Yet the 35-year-old had already established himself as a player to be reckoned with at Wee Burn Country Club near his Connecticut home. Seeking further improvement, Hunter along with wife Caroline and family, decided to spend that April lodged at the Carolina Hotel, testing his mettle in competitive events as a new Pinehurst Country Club member. Like so many early 20th century Pinehurst visitors, Hunter had the financial wherewithal to spend a month, if not a full season, in the Sandhills. He’d grown up in Terre Haute, Indiana, where his father operated a successful business building horse-drawn carriages. His wife, however, came from even grander opulence. This wasn’t Midwestern riches; it was New York money. Her father, Anson Phelps Stokes, had amassed a vast fortune from an array of enterprises ranging from railroads, copper mining and real estate to banking. It was Stokes who donated the trophy for the Americas Cup yacht race. But politics set the Hunters apart from the other wealthy bluebloods — in Pinehurst and elsewhere. They joined the American Socialist Party in 1905, and Robert Hunter gained notoriety as a driving force in the party, serving on its executive committee. While the Socialist Party would have been anathema to an overwhelming majority of the well-heeled PCC members, it appears most of them welcomed the Hunters’ participation in various social activities at the club. When the couple returned to the village in January 1910 for a prolonged four month stay in Plymouth Cottage, the most important man in town, Pinehurst kingpin Leonard Tufts, made it a point to host them for dinner at The Carolina. Hunter’s advancement into the village’s in-crowd was capped by his December 1910 admission into the Tin Whistles, Pinehurst’s pre-eminent “golfing fellowship.” While there may have been some Tin Whistles who gritted their teeth a bit before voting him in, Hunter’s engaging sense of humor — along with his rise toward the top of PCC golf ranks — tipped the scales in his favor. It’s fair to say that, notwithstanding his party affiliation, Hunter was no radical, wild-eyed flamethrower. Born at the back end of the laissez-faire Gilded Age when ultra-capitalist “robber barons” took advantage of the lack of legal protections for workers, Hunter’s core belief that America’s working poor were being horribly treated wasn’t a heavy lift. He urged that such economic injustices could be rectified by the legislative regulation of business. The specific proposals Hunter had in mind — considered revolutionary in early 20th century America — are now codified in every jurisdiction: minimum wages,

workers’ compensation, old-age pensions, limitation of the hours of work, regulations governing a safe working environment, and child labor laws. Hunter was of the firm view that the only way to obtain progressive legislation was through the political process. He and Caroline emphatically rejected the arguments of Marxists, anarchists, and others on the far left who believed democratic processes, controlled by the capitalists, were of limited usefulness, and that only confrontational actions ranging from labor strikes to outright violence could bring about meaningful change. In 1904 Hunter’s book Poverty became a bestseller and brought national attention to the plight of workers and their families laboring under the specter of the poorhouse and starvation. To refute a commonly held perception of the well-off that the working poor were personally responsible for their desperate circumstances, Hunter produced data demonstrating that precisely the opposite was true — it was next to impossible for undernourished, overworked employees to claw their way out of the depths. “A sanitary dwelling, a sufficient supply of food and clothing, all having to do with physical well-being, is the very minimum which the laboring classes can demand,” he wrote. “The more fortunate of the laborers are but a few weeks from actual distress when the machines are stopped. Upon the unskilled masses, want is constantly pressing. As soon as employment ceases, suffering stares them in the face.” According to Edward Brawley’s biography on Hunter, Speaking Out for America’s Poor, Hunter’s book “opened America’s eyes to the magnitude of poverty in the midst of plenty.” Poverty, wrote Brawley, made a convincing argument that “causing people, especially children, to suffer preventable poverty and ill health was not only shameful for a wealthy society but also a waste of the nation’s most valuable resources.” When Poverty failed to spur the Democratic and Republican parties to promote legislation, the Hunters cast their lot with the socialists. His writing brought Hunter significant street cred with socialist higher-ups who arranged for the author’s appointment to the party’s executive committee. Hunter’s advocacy on behalf of the less fortunate grew out of his Indiana roots. Through his father, a charitable man in his own regard, Hunter met Eugene Debs, another Terre Haute native and the most famous socialist and influential labor leader of the late 19th century. Robert’s first encounter with Debs left an everlasting impression. “An old railroad workman joined us,” Hunter recalled. “I heard him explain to Debs that he could get a job if he could raise enough money to buy a good time-piece. Knowing that a watch was essential to a worker on the railroad, Debs immediately took out a handsome

PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE TUFTS ARCHIVES

gold watch . . . unhooked it from its chain, handed it over to the man, saying ‘I care a lot about this watch . . . Keep it until you can afford to get another.’” Though his own family’s finances were sufficient to withstand a downturn in the economy, Hunter was witness to the massive distress caused by the Panic of 1893 when falling prices resulted in countless bankruptcies. An empathetic Hunter distributed food to the hungry and went so far as to put himself on a strict diet of oatmeal. His growing concern for the poor was also influenced by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy, who believed that obedient Christians should follow Jesus’ instruction to “Sell everything you have and give it to the poor (Mark 10:21).” A young Hunter considered it his Christian duty to share with those in need everything he possessed. Hunter’s father expected him to enter the family buggy business or embark on a legal career, but the son harbored other ideas. A light bulb went off for Robert after a chance meeting with Dr. Phillip Ayers, the secretary of the Cincinnati Board of Charities. Hunter recalled that Ayers “made my heart leap with joy by pointing out that with adequate preparation I could expect to obtain employment as a social worker.” After visiting Ayers in Cincinnati, Hunter was taken aback by the appalling conditions of the area’s slums and wanted to assist relief efforts there. When Ayers advised him to attend college first Hunter enrolled at Indiana University, graduating in 1896. By then, Ayers had moved to Chicago and was heading up the city’s Charitable Organization Society. He arranged a job for Hunter as the organizing secretary. After observing that the teeth of children in the slums were frequently in poor condition, Hunter convinced city dentists to donate their services to those unable to pay. He also organized the first-ever municipal facility dedicated to short-term housing for vagrants, and published a study, “Tenement Conditions in Chicago,” the first of his sociological writings. While in Chicago, Hunter resided in settlement houses, a reform phenomenon of the late 1800s where people from all segments of society came together in urban locations to find ways to alleviate area poverty. Settlement houses also became cultural destinations where famous speakers, writers, poets, public figures and educators appeared. During his stint in Chicago, Hunter lived at Hull House, operated by one of America’s pioneer social workers, Jane Addams. While in residence, he broke bread with celebrities like Clarence Darrow, Frank Lloyd Wright and John Dewey. He also spent a summer at another settlement house in London, where he met Bernard Shaw and H.G. Wells. In 1902, Hunter moved to New York and became the head resident of the University Settlement. He led the group largely responsible for passage of the first New York state law prohibiting child labor. “It was in New York that Hunter met Graham Phelps Stokes, who like Robert, was destined to become that rarest of birds, a millionaire socialist,” wrote Brawley. The younger Stokes introduced Hunter to his sister Caroline, who was also active in social work. The two hit it off immediately and in April 1903, became engaged on the elder Stokes’ yacht, marrying a month later in Noroton, Connecticut, the Stokes’ hometown. During the couple’s European honeymoon, Hunter visited one of his idols, Count Leo Tolstoy. The Russian confided that his attempt to give his possessions to the poor had been thwarted. The great writer’s wife refused to cooperate, maintaining that his benevolence would condemn the couple’s children to lives of ceaseless poverty. In appeasement, the author of War and Peace turned his property over to his spouse and was residing in the house as her guest. The count lamented to Hunter that this attempt at compromise had undermined his principles. Hunter described Tolstoy as “downcast, tearful and, I should say, morally wounded by his failure.” Returning to New York, Hunter redoubled his efforts to assist the poor and live a simpler life. One frigid morning, he gave his overcoat to a shivering beggar, and then stoically did not don another throughout the winter. Rather than live in luxury, the newlyweds moved into modest quarters on Grove Street in the city’s Lower West Side (later Greenwich Village) with hopes of lending a hand toward revitalization there. A New York newspaper reported that the Hunters had moved into “one of the vilest slums.” When it was whispered that the couple intended to give away “millions of dollars” to the poor, the rumor went viral. Hundreds formed

Robert Hunter with his son

Mystic Cottage

Andrews, Prestwick, Muirfield and Hoylake, all “by the sea in links-land.” As the demand for new golf courses in America was rapidly escalating, a self-taught crash course in golf architecture at the game’s birthplace could provide enough bona fides to start a course design business. But it was not going to happen in Pinehurst, where Donald Ross monopolized commissions for golf courses up and down the Eastern Seaboard. In 1917, the Hunters pulled up stakes from their Connecticut and Pinehurst homes and relocated to Berkeley, California, where he filled a teaching position at the University of California until 1922. While relishing his new environment, Hunter admitted missing Pinehurst’s golf courses, bemoaning in a letter to a friend, “There is absolutely none where I am now living — unless I am to consider the local country club, which resembles one of the sand clay roads of Moore County.” However, Northern California’s lack of courses also provided an opportunity. When Berkeley locals decided to build a new course in 1920, Hunter was named chairman of the fledgling club’s greens committee. Soon, he had drawn up a set of complete plans for the course. Berkeley Country Club had already hired the well-established Willie Watson as course architect, but Hunter’s routing left little for Watson to do. He basically rubber-stamped Hunter’s design work. Hunter also oversaw the course’s construction and today, the club acknowledges he deserves the lion’s share of credit for the design. After a fire destroyed his Berkeley home, Hunter moved to Pebble Beach, hoping his work at Berkeley CC would create sufficient splash on the Monterey Peninsula to result in further design commissions. It did not. How could he broadcast his course design chops and simultaneously prove he was no dilettante in the field? The same way he had cemented his reputation for reform advocacy — by writing a book. Published in 1926, The Links became an authoritative reference bible for every phase of golf course design and construction. It’s chock-full of the author’s philosophy regarding everything from hiring a designer and acquiring land to the placement, shape and contours of hazards, bunkers, and greens. Noted designer Bill Coore still consults Hunter’s book and says that it “became a cornerstone in my personal golf architecture education and a bond in my partnership with Ben Crenshaw, who I learned had begun studying The Links at approximately the same time I did.” The book came to the attention of the renowned British golf architect

PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE TUFTS ARCHIVES

outside their home seeking a piece of the pie — and more kept coming. For three weeks, Hunter was unable to leave the house, and it eventually forced the couple to retreat to the Stokes family enclave in Noroton. It was during this frantic time that Hunter researched and wrote Poverty, a Herculean effort that brought him to the brink of a breakdown. His physician recommended outdoor exercise to provide a distraction, and Hunter embarked on a regimen of daily golf, despite awareness that many in his circle considered participation in the sport to be “effeminate.” Hunter continued his deep involvement in socialist politics, writing books and lecturing. Twice he mounted runs for Connecticut political office under the socialist banner, losing both races. He sailed to Europe and attended international congresses of socialists, where he encountered Vladimir Lenin, Friedrich Engels and Benito Mussolini. President Theodore Roosevelt took notice of Poverty, and invited Hunter to a one-on-one discussion at the White House. Hunter even befriended Mark Twain. But the amount of time Hunter was devoting to golf was beginning to rival that spent on social reform. In March, 1911, he reached the PCC club championship semifinals and then entered April’s prestigious United North and South Amateur Championship, a move specifically addressed in a tongue-incheek Tin Whistle bylaw that explained it was “the duty of each member to suppress the incipient conceit of any fellow member who thinks he is in line for the United North and South Amateur Championship.” Hunter surprised everyone by qualifying for match play and winning his way to the 36-hole final against the legendary Chick Evans — then at the peak of his Hall of Fame career. Hunter kept the match close during the morning round, but Evans pulled away in the afternoon to win 6 and 5. Still, it was an extraordinary feat to have reached the final given that he had only played golf for seven years. Over the next five years, “Hunter of Wee Burn” won numerous Pinehurst events. In December 1912, he carted off the Holiday Golf Tournament’s President’s Cup, defeating former U.S. and British Amateur champion Walter Travis in the final match. He beat the great Travis again in a scintillating extrahole match to win Pinehurst’s Mid-April Tournament in 1914, and successfully defended that championship the next two years. Hunter fashioned a second excellent performance in the 1915 North and South championship by reaching the semifinals, and he won the 54-hole medal play Tin Whistles championships of 1914 and ’15. In January 1913, the Hunters purchased Mystic Cottage, which, according to the Pinehurst Outlook, was “the largest and most attractive of the winter homes here.” The couple hosted dinners in their spacious home with distinguished guests like Leonard Tufts and Donald Ross. It did not go unnoticed that the millionaire socialist, having once craved a Spartan existence, was increasingly living a life of opulence. Some thought the man a hypocrite, a charge Hunter never satisfactorily rebutted. His encounter with Tolstoy (recounted in his 1919 book Why We Fail as Christians) and the adverse public reaction to his own attempt to live modestly in New York may have persuaded him that selfdenial was not all it was cracked up to be. In any event, his disenchantment with his fellow socialists was growing. A majority of party leaders advocated labor strikes and other confrontational actions that moderate socialists like Hunter thought wrongheaded. This disagreement over tactics became intractable and led to his resignation from the Executive Committee in 1912. His disaffection was further exacerbated when the party refused to support America’s 1917 entry into World War I. Hunter approved of the war declaration, reasoning that the conduct of a militaristic and conquest-driven Germany threatened the rights of working people in all democratic countries. In protest, the Hunters and thousands of former party supporters who likewise favored the war fled socialist ranks in droves. The party nearly disintegrated and was never again a major factor on the American political scene. Increasingly regarded by many colleagues on the left as a pariah, Hunter began pursuing another outlet for his considerable energies — golf architecture. He wrote that his interest in the subject led him “abroad in the summer of 1912 for a six months’ study of the structure and upkeep of the championship courses of Great Britain.” The courses he visited included the Old Course at St.

Alister MacKenzie, who was wowed by Hunter’s grasp of the innumerable details of course design, calling “it by far the best book on golf architecture ever written.” So, when Hunter proposed that he and MacKenzie build courses together in California, the Yorkshireman, who had never been to the West Coast, listened and agreed. Hunter expected the two would find themselves deluged with commissions. He was correct. Requests for work to be performed by the firm of MacKenzie and Hunter poured in. In August 1926, the new partners entered into a contract to design a course for the Meadow Club in the San Francisco Bay area. This was followed by projects for the California Golf Club of San Francisco; Woodside Country Club near Stanford University; Green Hills Country Club; Northwood Golf Club; Pasatiempo Golf Club; and the Valley Club at Montecito. MacKenzie and Hunter updated the Pebble Beach links in preparation for the club’s hosting of the 1929 U.S. Amateur. To some extent, Hunter’s working relationship with MacKenzie mirrored the one he had established with Willie Watson at Berkeley. The more flamboyant MacKenzie was always the name architect while Hunter promoted him and managed the details on the ground. He seemed content to play the role of second banana in the relationship, though MacKenzie fully recognized Hunter’s ingenuous contributions. Regarding their work at the Valley Club at Montecito, an appreciative MacKenzie lauded his partner for introducing “a new machine, a Caterpillar tractor with bulldozer equipment, to remove the large rocks and boulders. He thus saved thousands of dollars in explosives and manual labor.” But the partnership’s tour de force was its work in 1928 designing and building the incomparable Cypress Point Club, an oceanside course so beautiful it’s often referred to as golf’s Sistine Chapel. Golf historian and architect Geoff Shackleford calls the course “the most stunning creation in the history of golf course architecture.” Hunter, a local, was again the man responsible for overseeing the progress of daily construction. Also involved was son Robert Jr., who headed up the American Golf Course Construction Company. It is too late to unravel the individual contributions Hunter and MacKenzie each made that resulted in the finished product at Cypress Point. Nonetheless, it is clear that Hunter was no mere sidekick and deserves far greater credit than he ever received for Cypress and the partners’ other wonderful California

courses. Their association lasted until 1929, when the Great Depression tanked most all golf construction projects. With the advent of President Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal in the early 1930s, Hunter ping-ponged back into the analysis of the nation’s affairs. This time he had a far different spin on things. Despite the fact that the president’s leadership resulted in the enactment of progressive legislation, which he would have undoubtedly supported in his socialist days, Hunter was alarmed at what he perceived to be Roosevelt’s dictatorial tendencies. He viewed the president as a profligate spender whose economic policies were destined to result in an inflationary upheaval that would ultimately culminate in revolution. Hunter pointed out that Lenin had hijacked Russia’s progressive movement and imposed a brutal dictatorship under similar economic circumstances. In 1940, he encapsulated his dire warnings (which, of course, proved to be greatly overblown) with another book, Revolution: Why, How, and When?, that was favorably received by those Republicans who despised Roosevelt, then running for his third term. The former socialist also served as an adviser to Republican candidate Wendell Willkie during the latter’s unsuccessful campaign for the presidency against Roosevelt in 1940. Hunter would pass away two years later. Most biographers tend to discount Hunter’s rants against the New Deal and Roosevelt, focusing instead on his earlier social reform efforts and authorship of Poverty. Of course the world of golf remembers another Hunter book, The Links. But the ripple effects of his contributions to the game reach beyond his writings. If he had not induced Alister MacKenzie to come to California, Cypress Point might never have been built in the glorious manner it was. And if there was no Cypress Point, Bobby Jones would never have chanced to play the course in 1929, nor would he have engaged MacKenzie in the design of Augusta National Golf Club. Pinehurst had its role to play. It’s where Hunter’s interest in golf course architecture was first cultivated, and his acquaintance with fellow Tin Whistle Donald Ross (whose layouts Hunter revered) undoubtedly gave him meaningful exposure to the art and science of design. While his impact may have been easy to overlook, his legacy is astonishing in its scope. PS

15th Hole, Cypress Point PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2020

A Leap of

Faith

Or, how to buy a white elephant, inside unseen

By Deborah Salomon • Photographs by John Koob Gessner

t takes a village to support a castle. But castles are so . . . yesteryear. Most have become tourist attractions or TV locations. Duncraig Manor and Gardens isn’t exactly Downton Abbey, although rather grand for Southern Pines village, circa 1920s, when moneyed Northerners flocked to outdo each other residentially in the newly chic winter enclave. A pair of these, Quaker Oats heiress Mrs. J.H. Andrews and her daughter Helen Lohman, hired Alfred Yeomans, the nephew of James Boyd, who was to architectural/ landscape design what Chanel and Patou were to couture. This would be a huge jewel in Yeomans’ crown. Except the homestead differed from the Georgian, Federalist, Victorian, New England saltbox, Arts and Crafts and other architectural styles dominating Weymouth. Later named Duncraig by subsequent owner Dr. George Matheson, who had ties to the Scottish Duncraig Castle built in 1866, this was more lodge than castle, executed with a whiff of Tudor, suitable for a newly minted English lord with eight children wanting sprawling summer digs in hunt country. Duncraig has nine bedrooms, 10 bathrooms, a servants’ wing, a quasi-commercial kitchen, finished basement, spa, a garden tea house, groundskeeper’s apartment over the garage, even a nook in the dining room equipped for serving a buffet. Total: 12,680 square feet . . . and counting. At completion in 1930, it’s safe to assume Duncraig made a big splash on the bend of Connecticut Avenue. These days, only a business could justify such space.

he first business was a group home for emotionally disturbed children, operated by Constance Baker. That use did not please neighbors; the home closed in the 1990s. The property, a maintenance money pit, deteriorated as it passed hands. Caroline and Donald Naysmith are in the business of restoring threadbare mansions as B&B/event venues. Their previous projects â&#x20AC;&#x201D; now on the Register of Historic Places â&#x20AC;&#x201D; took them to Colorado, Missouri, New York state and Charlotte. Their children operate several. The Naysmiths have seven children and 30 grandchildren (including three great-grandchildren), so Duncraig works well on holidays. But nobody calls it rustic or even family style. Beginning with an Italianate fountain installed by a son-in-law in the walled courtyard, continuing with heavy formal furnishings upholstered in dark brocades on the main floor with lighter, brighter hues upstairs, this B&B suits ghosts seeking retro opulence. Ghosts who expect a lily pond, swimming pool, kennels for the hounds, and formal gardens spreading over nearly 5 acres.

n first approach, Duncraig appears the stretch limo of Southern Pines showplaces, somewhat reminiscent of Loblolly, also faintly Tudor with stucco exterior designed for a Boyd relative by Amar Embury II in 1918. Might Mrs. Andrews and her daughter have been in competitive mode a decade later? The Naysmiths discovered Duncraig while in town for a musical event; Donald sings gospel and classical. For Caroline, it was love at first sight. She had Don stop the car so she could ring the doorbell, see what was what. She never got inside. Her reaction, nevertheless: “This house needed me.” They purchased the property in 2017. “We are people of faith,” Don said. “We made it a matter of prayer.” Also a matter of money, since the 18-month restoration cost in the low seven figures. Where to start a tour? The sunken “salon,” aptly named since a

room comfortably housing a baby grand piano and an even longer harpsichord exceeds either living room or parlor. Its walls, like those throughout the house, are textured plaster with unusual rounded corners. Some were wallpapered in brocade which, when removed, revealed mold. The gleaming pegged floors are mostly stained. Dark, heavy beams bisect the ceiling. Here, around a massive coffee table, guests gather evenings for wine and hors d’oeuvres before heading out to dinner.

he Naysmiths found furnishings and paintings hither and yon, mostly from dealers in North and South Carolina. For these forays, they attach a trailer to the car and bring it back loaded. No auctions, which are too time-consuming, Caroline says. “We love period antiques of the ’20s and ’30s, when the house was built.” In the salon, this includes throne-sized armchairs in royal purple, an inlaid Asian highboy, both authentic and reproduction Tiffany lamps. Caroline made the drapes covering paned casement windows here and throughout “while I was waiting for the rest to be done.” Adjoining the salon, a game room/library with burgundy walls offers not only chess and books, but a snarling bear rug. Watch where you step. Don relates the story of the dining room table, which looks folksy considering the ornate chairs. He found a fallen cherry tree in the Adirondacks, had the trunk milled into 10-foot lengths and kiln dried with the planks joined into an 11-foot table top set on carved pedestals. A small (but obligatory for the era) butler’s pantry leads into a mammoth kitchen more utilitarian than magazine, with ceramic tile backsplashes, a square island and a Blue Star gas range tucked into a niche — perfect equipment for a wedding caterer but a bit much for the Naysmiths, who as concierges are required by law to live on the premises.

Main floor rooms are joined by hallways; in one hangs a collection of cow bells. Other collections include Royal Doulton historic character mugs and antique chamber pots. The front hallway running the length of the house must be longer than a bowling lane. Each of the guest rooms is named and furnished after places the Naysmiths have visited, including Nagamo, Vienna, Jamaica, Charleston, Budapest. Perhaps the most charming are smaller bedchambers in the servants’ wing, each with a tiny vanity sink. Bathrooms have been modernized only when necessary, otherwise leaving tiles and fixtures intact, adding to the authenticity. Some have extra-long soaking tubs. The terraces and gardens, beginning with the front courtyard and, in the rear, stretching on all sides as far as the eye can see, only enhance the estate atmosphere. However, from a business angle this home-away-from-home for guests trading up isn’t quite what the Naysmiths planned. The B&B and Airbnb worked out, but town regulations limit them to serving only breakfast, not luncheon meetings or dinners. Duncraig is allowed to host only 20 events per year. Now that the restoration is complete, guests are treated to a glimpse of life between the Gilded Age of the late 1800s and the Great Depression beginning in 1929 — a time when the wealthy and arts-minded mingled over golf in Pinehurst and horses in Southern Pines. A time when, historians suggest, fine tradesmen were lured to North Carolina to build Biltmore House in Asheville, and stayed on to adorn mansions throughout the state. However, according to Donald Naysmith’s beliefs, things are just things and a house, even Duncraig Manor, is a temporary dwelling: “It’s what is beyond that matters,” he states with conviction. “We have no permanent home down here. That is our guiding principle.” PS

A L M A N A C

January n

By Ash Alder

January is fresh linens, heightened awareness, infinite possibility. Like a dream within a dream. Last night, I dreamed I was flying through a thick forest of pine, a holy swirl of stars like pinholes to the heavens in the winter sky above me. Cassiopeia the Queen was dancing west of Polaris, and my breath became a living veil, the Big Dipper disappearing and reappearing with every exhale. Suddenly, in the midst of all this magic — flight, the crisp night sky, the dance of breath and starlight — I realized that I could plummet to Earth at any moment. And yet the thrill of the alternative ignited me. This is my dream, I thought. And to claim a dream requires faith. As the Big Dipper rose above the North Star, I began pumping my legs, swimming through the air at what felt like the speed of light, weaving between trees, between realms, between worlds. January is here, and with it, a world of infinite possibility. A seed of hope. A bulb, cracking open beneath the soil. A field of daffodils in the making. New beginnings, new rituals, new dreams. All that is required is faith.

Rabbit, Rabbit

Every New Year’s morning in the first blush of light, I bundle up, go outside, and listen to the deep quiet. As Earth begins stirring with unseen critters, silhouettes dance in the periphery. Often, one of a rabbit. On such occasions, I’ve wondered if there was some correlation between rabbits and New Year’s, but settled with my own belief that it was some sort of good omen. Only recently did I discover the quirky superstition of saying “Rabbit, rabbit” on the first day of the month for good luck. Have you heard about this? According to the Farmers’ Almanac, the first written record of this strange rabbit habit traces back to a 1909 British periodical called Notes and Queries. I think I prefer my New Year’s tradition, and how the language of nature seems to transcend words. But, for what it’s worth: Rabbit, rabbit. Rabbit, rabbit, and happy New Year!

Year of the Rat

Twelfth Night (Jan. 5), the eve of Epiphany, marks the end of the Christmas season. But the merriment continues. Saturday, Jan. 25, marks the celebration of the Chinese New Year. Cue the paper lanterns for the Year of the Metal Rat, a year of wealth and surplus. Bring it on. According to one ancient myth, the rat is the first of all zodiac animals because it tricked the ox into giving it a ride to the Jade Emperor’s party, a race to determine the order in which the animals would appear. Just as the ox was approaching the finish line, the rat leapt down in front of it, arriving first. All this to say that 2020 just may be a year of newfound ingenuity and resourcefulness. But in case you’re not convinced that the Year of the Rat will be an auspicious one, this is for you: In Rajasthan, India, there is a Temple of Rats dedicated to a Hindu warrior worshiped by her followers as the incarnation of the goddess Durga. Outside, a beautiful marble façade with solid silver doors. Inside, 25,000 black rats plus a few rare and especially “holy” white rats, all revered. Now, on a side note, it’s said that cleaning or throwing out garbage on the day of the Chinese New Year is a spring festival taboo — you don’t want to “sweep away” the good luck! Unless you’re inviting a certain zodiac animal to the party (ahem), you might want to turn a blind eye to it.

In the Garden

Bare branches against bright sky in every direction, and yet a closer look reveals flowering witch hazel, camellia and daphne, hellebores, apricot and winter jasmine. In the garden, now’s the time for preparation. Prune what’s asking to go. Fertilize beds with wood ash. And when the soil is dry enough, plant asparagus crowns for early spring harvest. Soon, a sea of spring vegetables will grace the garden. English peas, cabbage, carrots, radish, turnip, rutabaga. But now, patience. Patience and faith.

Nature has undoubtedly mastered the art of winter gardening and even the most experienced gardener can learn from the unrestrained beauty around them. — Vincent A. Simeone

In business, having a clear vision is absolutely critical. Goals, strategies, direction, values and more are all keys to keeping a business of any size running smoothly. Moving into 2020 with big announcements or exciting anniversaries, these seven local businesses are celebrating their pasts and looking to the future with a keen eye for continued success.

Hiatt’s Vision is a Guiding Compass One Man’s Vision in 1952 is now one of the Sandhills’ largest networks of specialty & primary care providers. Dr. Joseph Spurgeon Hiatt, Jr. founded Pinehurst Medical Clinic with one idea in mind, “to give the people of Moore County and surrounding communities the best medical treatment available, anywhere.” Celebrating 68 years, Pinehurst Medical Clinic is an established healthcare leader in Moore County and continues to expand upon Dr. Hiatt’s vision. Attracting and retaining some of the regions most talented physicians, PMC is committed to providing the highest quality care to the Sandhills and the patients they serve. Embarking on a new year, 2020 – Hiatt’s vision remains the compass for Pinehurst Medical Clinic currently, consisting of over 100 primary and specialty care providers, approximately 650 employees and 18 locations.

www.pinehurstmedical.com • 910.295.5511

Dr. Michael Pritchett Dr. Michael Batalo Dr. David Cowherd Dr. Brooks Mays Dr. Ker Boyce Dr. Wayne Lucas Dr. Pamela Guest Dr. Michael Antil Dr. Karen Schorn Oncology Pulmonology Cardiology Hematology 96Endocrinology January 2020 . . Electrophysiology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Gastroenterology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dermatology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Primary . . . . .Care . . . . . . . . . . Pheumatology . . . . . . . . . . . . . .FirstHealth . PineStraw & Soul of the Sandhills Affiliate : The Art FirstHealth Affiliate FirstHealth Affiliate

Photo by Tim Sayer

Celebrating 40 Years of Helping Guide Clients to Financial Security From one man’s dream in 1980 to a firm with 65 employees and more than 1,600 clients, Parsec Financial is honored and humbled to play a role in improving the lives of its customers. When Bart Boyer founded Parsec in 1980, he knew that feeonly investment advice was the right model for his firm as it empowered Parsec advisors to advocate for their clients’ interests by delivering unbiased financial guidance. In 2020, Parsec is celebrating its 40th anniversary. To celebrate the occasion, Parsec announces its socially responsible investing (SRI) offering. Any blend of equity and fixed-income assets can be combined to create the desired asset allocation while prioritizing companies selected using a socially responsible screening process and funds with a social or sustainable mandate. This new offering helps reinforce Parsec’s ongoing dedication to providing a personalized wealth management approach for its clients.

Scott Kittrell, FPQPTM, has been proudly and tirelessly serving the Southern Pines area with Parsec since 2017. He has an extensive background in financial advising including progressive roles in both investment management and banking with particular experience working with retirees and veterans. As a member of the Southern Pines Rotary Club, a board member of Central Park NC and past Elder at Brownson Memorial Presbyterian Church, Scott is much more than an advisor, but a trusted neighbor in our community.

140-B SW Broad St. Southern Pines, NC 28387 ( 910) 684-8054 | p arsecf i n an ci al . co m

Photo by Gabby Smith

Beauty from Hair to Clothes The Venue by David & Company has chosen to raise the bar in the salon industry. Their location in historic Aberdeen is nothing short of fabulous. In addition to specializing in the latest cuts, color and finishing services tailored to fit your needs, The Venue by David & Company is thrilled to announce the addition of boutique clothing, jewelry, and accessories in their salon. With 25 years of experience and continuing education, owner David Dozier’s staff is dedicated and ready to serve you and all your complete beauty needs. They help you decide what look best suits you, and with that in mind, they deliver just the regimen to achieve it. For years they’ve offered hair cuts, coloring, extensions, keratin smoothing therapy, mani/pedis, and even their own line of makeup products. With the addition of the boutique, the staff at The Venue will have you looking phenomenal from head to toe. Set in a glamorous, restored brick building, the stylish clothing adds the perfect complement to an already chic environment. But at The Venue, boutique clothing doesn’t mean boutique prices. Each item is hand selected by David to ensure fabulousness as well as affordability. In the boutique, you’ll find everything from sleek dresses for your next cocktail party to cozy sweaters with trendy cutouts and comfy leggings that can be dressed up or down. Geared toward fashion-savvy clients, the staff at The Venue enjoy taking your ideas and blending them together with their skills to find the salon services and styles that will leave you feeling - and looking - your absolute best, without breaking the bank. The state of the art salon and boutique at The Venue will take you back in time with the feel of Historical Aberdeen, and the feel of the high-end glamour will transport you to a New York or Paris state of mind. Stop in, enjoy a glass of wine, and shop around. You’ll love it!

108 East Main Street | Aberdeen, NC 28315 | (910) 944-2265

Photo by Tim Sayer

Weymouth Rings in its 40th Season Celebrating 40 years, Weymouth has created new partnerships, new programs and new events to serve the growing and changing needs of the community. While staying true to its mission and improving well-beloved programs, the following are a taste of what’s coming in 2020. Weymouth and Team Red, White & Blue: A New Partnership Weymouth and Team RWB are partnering to develop new nature-based programs to help veterans and their families transition to civilian life. “We’re fired up to work with Weymouth and utilize its spectacular gardens, grounds and forests to find new reasons to get our 203,000 Eagles outside and connecting with nature,” shares Mike Erwin, Founder and Executive Director of Team RWB. The 2020 Weymouth Literature Festival: The Wizards of Weymouth: #WeyFest20 Honoring the works of J.K. Rowling Enjoy Weymouth transformed into the Harry Potter universe for a day as you’re invited to celebrate literature and the importance of literacy. The day will include a host of activities for wizards young and old! Local Sandhills wood turners have created hundreds of magic wands, which will be for sale. The event is a fundraiser for Weymouth with a portion of the proceeds benefitting Authors in Moore Schools. March 2020

New Musical Residencies and Literary Events The Carol Chung Quartet will attend Weymouth’s first residency for music composition. Therese Ann Fowler, NY Times best-selling author and past Weymouth Writer in Residence, offers a special reading from her new novel, A GOOD NEIGHBORHOOD. A Workshop Best-selling author Wiley Cash and photographer Mallory Cash will offer an all-day workshop at Weymouth dedicated to “seeing” and creating scenes.

PO Box 939 555 E Connecticut Ave, Southern Pines, NC 28387 (910) 692-6261 | weymouthcenter.org Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities is a non-profit supported by the generosity of local donors. Support your Sandhills area cultural landmark!

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Photo by Tim Sayer

This is what 100 Years looks like! Since 1920, The Pilot has been proud to bring you stories of life in Moore County â&#x20AC;&#x201D; from photos of your cousin and his horse in the holiday parade to reports on where your tax money is going; from high-school basketball scores to lists of winners in the latest bridge match. Scenes from small shops, hometown restaurants, and local events continue to make our pages colorful. For those 100 years, it has been your friends and neighbors, fellow church-goers and grocery store shoppers, like the staff

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pictured here, bringing news of this community to you. For those 100 years, The Pilot has been owned by someone in our community, from our humble beginnings in Vass to our array of operations in Southern Pines and across the state today. The Pilot has repeatedly been recognized nationally as the Best Community Newspaper in America. And we have Moore Countyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s stories to thank for that. This year, The Pilot marks a century of community journalism. Join us in the celebration.

145 W Pennsylvania Avenue | Southern Pines, NC | (910)692-7271 | thepilot.com

Photographed is The Pilot newsroom, advertising and circulation staff joined also by the accounting department. Not pictured, but equally as important, is The Pilotâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s growing family of magazine staff that publish 4 monthly magazines, our full-service marketing agency, First Flight and the staff of The Country Bookshop. PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 2020

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Arts Entertainment C A L E N DA R

Cheese-Making Class

Family Tales

Holistic Wellness Expo

Although conscientious effort is made to provide accurate and up-to-date information, all events are subject to change and errors can occur! Please call to verify times, costs, status and location before planning or attending an event.

with a First Day Hike, a 1-mile hike on the Boyd Tract. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.ncparks.gov.

Southern Pines residents; $4 non-residents. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376 or www.southernpines.net/136/Recreation-Parks.

BOOKWORMS BOOKCLUB. Are you in grade K–5 and want to join a book club? Find the Bookworms display in the library to take home the Book of the Month, pick up your discussion questions and grab some activities. When you have finished reading the book, fill out the selection review to post on the library’s wall. This month’s selection is The Secret Garden. Can’t read yet? Read along with a grown-up. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235.

BLOODY MARY DAY. 12–2 p.m. Come in and enjoy $5 house Bloody Marys or create your own. There will also be a breakfast bar. Elliott’s on Linden, 905 Linden Road, Suite A, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 215-0775 or www. elliottsonlinden.com.

Saturday, January 4

BOOK SALES. 10 a.m.–4 p.m. Monday – Saturday. Monthly sale: gardening, golf and sports are buy one, get one free, some exclusions apply. Given Book Shop, 95 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 585-4820 or 295-7002. JOY OF ART STUDIO. Winter arts begin January 2020. Drawing and painting, home school, ancient history through art, studio day for teens, fiber arts and sewing, mixed media private teaching all ages, anime illustration, and book group for women. Joy of Abstracting workshop and fashion illustration runs through March. Classes are held at Joy of Art Studio, 139 E. Pennsylvania Ave., Suite B, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 528-7283 or www. joyof-art.com or Facebook link www.facebook.com/ Joyscreativespace/ for a complete list of events this month.

Wednesday, January 1 FIRST DAY BOYD HIKE. 9 a.m. Start the year off right

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FIRST DAY HIKE. 1 p.m. Enjoy a 2-mile hike with a ranger to see different habitats within the longleaf pine forest. Free and open to the public. Weymouth WoodsSandhills Nature Preserve, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.ncparks.gov. FIRST DAY HIKE PAINT HILL. 3 p.m. Go on a 1.5mile hike on the Paint Hill Tract. Free and open to the public. Meet at the Stoneyfield Drive access. Weymouth Woods-Sandhills Nature Preserve, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.ncparks.gov. WINTER READING CHALLENGE. The library encourages everyone to read through the school winter break. Log the books you read until January 31 on the library’s Beanstack app or a paper log. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

Friday, January 3 POTLUCK LUNCHEON. 12 p.m. Seniors 55 and older can participate in a free potluck lunch. Bring a small dish and enjoy great food and fellowship. Ten games of bingo, with prizes for winners, will follow lunch. Cost: $2 for

KIDS PROGRAM. 10 a.m.–12 p.m. Celebrate the birthdays of J.R.R. Tolkien and A.A. Milne with activities, crafts and projects. Bring a friend and sign up for a free library card. This event is free and open to the public. Given Memorial Library and Tufts Archives, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: www.giventufts.org.

Sunday, January 5 THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 12:46 p.m. The Gibson Brothers. They will also play at 6:46 p.m. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com. ART RECEPTION. 1–4 p.m. Come to the Instructors Show and meet the instructors and sign up for winter classes. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979 or www.artisleague.org. WRITING GROUP. 3 p.m. Interested in creating fiction, nonfiction, poetry or comics? Connect with other writers and artists, chat about your craft and get feedback on your work. All levels are welcome. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net. AMAZING ADAPTATIONS. 3 p.m. Come find out what makes the flora and fauna of the Sandhills so

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CA L E N DA R fabulously adapted to living in an ecosystem that thrives with sandy soils and frequent fire. This will be an indoor presentation. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Woods-Sandhills Nature Preserve, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.ncparks.gov.

Tuesday, January 7 SOUP CONTEST. 11:30 a.m. Seniors 55 and older are invited to join Southern Pines Recreation and Parks for a Soup-Off Contest. Bring out your best soup dish for a judging contest. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376 or www.southernpines.net/136/Recreation-Parks. TRIVIA TOURNAMENT. 6:30–8 p.m. This year’s trivia tournament will be for Game of Thrones lovers. The tournament will be each week on Jan. 7, 14, 21, 28, Feb. 4 and 11 with a grand finale on Feb. 18. The Sly Fox Pub, 795 S.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www. theslyfoxpub.com.

Wednesday, January 8 SENIORS TRIP. 7 a.m. Seniors 55 and older can join Southern Pines Recreation and Parks to travel to Fort Fisher to visit the Fort Fisher Aquarium and Ferry Ride. Enjoy a seafood lunch afterward. Cost: $27 for Southern Pines residents; $54 for non-residents. Bus will depart at 7 a.m. from the Campbell House Playground parking lot and return by 7 p.m. Campbell House Playground, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. BABIES, SONGS AND READ ALONGS. 9:45–10:15 a.m. Join us for a new library program for ages 0–3. We will combine simple stories, music and movement to engage and entertain the little bookworms. Limited seating. First come, first served. Free and open to the public. Given Memorial Library and Tufts Archives, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: www.giventufts.org. ELVIS AND CHAGALL. 7–8 p.m. Author and lecturer Vivian R. Jacobson will present pairings of Marc Chagall and the musical artistry of Elvis Presley. Bradshaw Performing Arts Center, Owens Auditorium, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com. CURRY NIGHTS. Join The Sly Fox every Wednesday in January for a curry appetizer and entrée. Attend all four curry nights and win a $25 gift card. The Sly Fox Pub, 795 S.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www. theslyfoxpub.com.

Thursday, January 9 GATHERING AT GIVEN. 3:30 p.m. Historian Dr. George Birrell helps us celebrate Scottish poet Robert Burns’ birthday with poems by Burns and other Scottish poets. This event is free and open to the public. Given Memorial Library and Tufts Archives, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: www.giventufts.org. READ BETWEEN THE PINES. 5:30 p.m. Join the library’s newest book club for adults to discuss amazing books. This month’s book is Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes. Southern Pines Fire Station No. 2, intersection of Waynor Road and N.C. 22, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net. CIVIL WAR ROUNDTABLE. 6:30 p.m. Matt Farina will do a presentation on “Prisoner of War in the Civil

War — What Really Happened." Meeting starts at 7 p.m. Open to the public. Civic Club, corner of Pennsylvania and Ashe St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 246-0452 or mafarina@aol.com. CONCERT. 7:30–10:30 p.m. Peter Lamb and the Wolves. In partnership with The Rooster’s Wife. Cameo Art House Theatre, 225 Hay St., Fayetteville. Info and tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Friday, January 10 BOOK EVENT. 5:30–7 p.m. Author Kate DiCamillo with her new juvenile fiction novel, Beverly, Right Here. Presented by The Country Bookshop. Southern Pines Elementary Auditorium, 255 S. May St., Southern Pines. Info: www.thecountrybookshop.biz. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Monday, January 13 BOOK EVENT. 5 p.m. J.T. Ellison with Good Girls Lie. The Country Bookshop, 140 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.thecountrybookshop.biz. TRAVEL SERIES. 6 p.m. Join chef-photographer Warren Henry Lewis as he takes us on a journey to Skorarheiði moor between the fjords of Hrafnfjörður and Furufjörður to live with and photograph the rare blue morphs Arctic fox. Free and open to the public. Given Book Shop, 95 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: www.giventufts.org. PHOTOGRAPHY PRESENTATION. 7–9 p.m. Sandhills Photography Club presents “Essence of Place: America’s Southwest,” by Durham photographer Chris Odgen. The O’Neil School, Activity Center Theater, 3300 Airport Road, Southern Pines. Info: www.sandhillsphotoclub.org.

Saturday, January 11

Wednesday, January 15

CHEESE-MAKING CLASS. 10 a.m.–3 p.m. Join cheesemaker Sue Stovall for a day of cheese-making, farm touring, lunch and one-on-one time with the goats. Produce two cheeses and take some home. Paradox Farm Creamery, 449 Hickory Creek Lane, West End. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

MIXOLOGY DEMO. 6–7 p.m. Enjoy prohibition style cocktails and pass some mixology pointers. There will be three 1920s cocktails paired with three bites. Cost: $25. Elliott’s on Linden, 905 Linden Road, Suite A, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 215-0775 or www.elliottsonlinden.com.

STEAM. 11 a.m. Craft tables will be out all day. At 11 a.m. join the library staff for “Ice Cream Science.” This program is for children kindergarten through fifth grade. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

BOOK CLUB MEETING. 10:30 a.m. The Douglass Center Book Club will meet for discussion. Books can be picked up at the library. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

EQUESTRIAN EVENT. Pipe Opener I - CT. Divisions: CT: Green as Grass-Advanced. Dressage Test of Choice: Any. Carolina Horse Park, 2814 Montrose Road, Raeford. Info: (910) 875-2074.

Friday, January 17

MET OPERA. 1 p.m. Wozzeck. Sunrise Theater, 244 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com.

Sunday, January 12 ADULT EXPLORATIONS. 3 p.m. The library will host tai chi instructor Martin Locklear. This class will include discussion about the history and benefits of tai chi and a demonstration. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net. BACKYARD BIRDING. 3 p.m. Come and discover some strategies to attract birds to your backyard with a discussion on feeders and types of food. We will review the common birds you might see at your feeders and talk about other visitors to your feeders and ways to encourage or discourage them. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Woods-Sandhills Nature Preserve, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.ncparks.gov. BOOK EVENT. 3 p.m. Brad Taylor with Hunter Killer. The Country Bookshop, 140 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.thecountrybookshop.biz. THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 6:46 p.m. Doors open at 6 p.m. The Kennedys and Jon Collins. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org. Tickets: www. ticketmesandhills.com.

Thursday, January 16

THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 6:46 p.m. Doors open at 6 p.m. An evening with Chris Smither. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org. Tickets: www. ticketmesandhills.com.

Saturday, January 18 CONCERT. 3 p.m. Les Miserables: A Staged Concert. Sunrise Theater, 244 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. HARMONY BRIGADE SPECTACULAR. 7–9 p.m. Come enjoy a barbershop show during the 28th annual North Carolina Harmony Brigade Spectacular. Robert E. Lee Auditorium, 250 Voit Gilmore Lane, Southern Pines. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com. ORCHESTRA. 7:30–9 p.m. Carolina Philharmonic Orchestra presents music from, and inspired by, the Golden Age of Film. Bradshaw Performing Arts Center, Owens Auditorium, Sandhills Community College, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 687-0287 or www. carolinaphil.org.

Sunday, January 19 ENGLISH CARVERY. 11:30 a.m.–2:30 p.m. Enjoy a carvery of our traditional Sunday roast. Cost: $21.95. The Sly Fox Pub, 795 S.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.theslyfoxpub.com. LECTURE SERIES. 2–4 p.m. Speaker Kevin Duffus lectures about the history of the Cape Fear. This is part one of a three part series. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-6261. Info: www.weymouthcenter.org. Tickets:

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CA L E N DA R www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Monday, January 20

Wednesday, January 22

FAMILY TALES. 3 p.m. Children ages 3 through third grade and their families can enjoy stories and activities that foster a love of books and reading as well as social-emotional development. Capacity is limited to 25 children and their caregivers per session, and checkin with a valid Southern Pines Public Library card is required. Southern Pines Fire Station No. 2, intersection of Waynor Road and N.C. 22, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

WOMEN OF WEYMOUTH. 9:30–12 p.m. The monthly business meeting will begin at 10 a.m. followed by speaker Faye Dasen from The Pilot. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-6261. Info: www.weymouthcenter.org.

BABIES, SONGS AND READ ALONGS. 9:45–10:15 a.m. Join us for a new library program for ages 0–3. We will combine simple stories, music and movement to engage and entertain the little bookworms. Limited seating. First come, first served. Free and open to the public. Given Memorial Library and Tufts Archives, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: www.giventufts.org.

FIRE IN THE TOOLBOX. 3 p.m. Join a ranger to learn how land managers use fire as a tool to benefit plant and animal communities. See some of the tools used and planning that takes place to safely prepare for using fire on the landscape. The program will conclude with a short walk to see the effects of recent fire. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Woods-Sandhills Nature Preserve, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.ncparks.gov. CONCERT. 3 p.m. Les Miserables: A Staged Concert. Sunrise Theater, 244 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 6:46 p.m. Doors open at 6 p.m. Tire Fire with opener, Stoll Vaughn. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Tuesday, January 21 VOTERS MEETING. 11:30 a.m. The League of Women Voters of Moore County will meet for a program and luncheon. Cost is $20. Mid Pines Inn and Golf Club, 1010 Midland Road, Southern Pines. Info and RSVP: charlotteagallagher@gmail.com. JAMES BOYD BOOK CLUB. 2–3:30 p.m. This month’s book is Necessary Lies, by Diane Chamberlain. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Center for Arts and Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-6261 or weymouthcenter.org. LIT WITS. 5:30 p.m. Join the library’s teen book club for 11- to 15-year-olds. You can check out your copy of this month’s book, The Night Diary, at the library from Jan. 2 through Jan. 20. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net. WINE TASTING. 6–8 p.m. Join Gwen Simko, proprietor of the Village Wine Shop, for a night of wine tasting and small bites. Limited seating. Tickets are $35. Given Book Shop, 95 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: www. giventufts.org.

CHEESE-MAKING CLASS. 10 a.m.–3 p.m. Join cheesemaker Sue Stovall for a day of cheesemaking, farm touring, lunch and one-on-one time with the goats. Produce two cheeses and take some home. Paradox Farm Creamery, 449 Hickory Creek Lane, West End. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com. ART CLASS. 10 a.m.–3:30 p.m. Courtney Herndon will be teaching about painting with oil or acrylic. For beginner and intermediate artists. The class runs through Jan. 23. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979 or www.artisleague.org. BOOK EVENT. 5 p.m. Diane Chamberlain with Big Lies in a Small Town. The Country Bookshop, 140 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.thecountrybookshop.biz. GLOBAL TASTES. 6–9 p.m. Follow the eastern spice trail with four courses and a wine pairing. The courses will be tastes from Thailand. Limited seating. Tickets required. Cost: $32. Elliott’s on Linden, 905 Linden Road, Suite A, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 215-0775 or www.

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Thursday, January 23 CONCERT. 10 a.m. Les Miserables: A Staged Concert. Sunrise Theater, 244 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com.

Friday, January 24 WALK LIKE THE WILDLIFE. 10 a.m. Discover differences in how animals move, see and smell as we read a book, do activities and make a craft. Geared toward 3- to 5-year-olds to do with their parents. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Woods-Sandhills Nature Preserve, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 6922167 or www.ncparks.gov.

Saturday, January 25 CRAFT DAY. Stop in the library anytime during the day for this self-led program featuring Winter Wonderland. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net. WILDINGS PROGRAM. 10 a.m. Bring your kids ages 6–10 as we hone our birding skills and learn how to identify birds on a short hike. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Woods Visitor Center, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.ncparks.gov. HOLISTIC WELLNESS EXPO. 10 a.m.–2 p.m. Come learn about the benefits of Kombucha. Discover why essential oils are important for you and your four-legged friends. Understand what

CBD is and why so many people are using it. Local holistic health experts will be exhibiting and available to answer questions and provide information about many alternative health remedies. Don’t miss out on the latest wellness craze. The Pilot office, 145 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: mollie@firstflightagency.com. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.sandhillsnature.org.

Sunday, January 26

ART CLASS. 9:30 a.m.–3:30 p.m. Kathy Luck teaches the basics of painting on silk. The class runs through Jan. 29. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979 or www.artisleague.org.

BOLSHOI BALLET. 1 p.m. Giselle. Sunrise Theater, 244 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. HIKE FOR YOUR HEALTH. 3 p.m. Come hit the trails with a park ranger to keep up your goals to stay healthy, happy, and active. Enjoy a 3-mile hike through the park, so be prepared with comfortable hiking shoes, clothes appropriate for the weather, water, and a desire to exercise. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Woods Visitor Center, 1024 Fort Bragg Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2167 or www.ncparks.gov. THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 6:46 p.m. Doors open at 6 p.m. Cliff Eberhardt and Louise Mosrie. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org. Tickets: www. ticketmesandhills.com.

Monday, January 27 SANDHILLS NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY MEETING. 7 p.m. Speaker to be announced. Visitors welcome. Weymouth Woods Auditorium, 1024 Fort

FILM. 7–9 p.m. In Search of Mozart. Cameo Art House Theatre, 225 Hay St., Fayetteville. Info and tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

Tuesday, January 28

BOOK EVENT. 5 p.m. David Zucchino with Wilmington’s Lie. The Country Bookshop, 140 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.thecountrybookshop.biz. MUSICIANS JAM SESSION. 6–9 p.m. Bring your instrument and your love of music. The jam session and song circle meets monthly. Free and open to the public. Weymouth Center for Arts and Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-6261 or www.weymouthcenter.org.

Wednesday, January 29 EXHIBIT. 10 a.m.–4:30 p.m. The League of Women Voters of Moore County and Southern Pines Public Library will host the State Archives of North Carolina exhibit, “An Absolute Moral Certainty: The Woman Suffrage Movement in North Carolina.” The exhibit includes the original copy of the 19th Amendment that

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CA L E N DA R was sent to North Carolina for ratification in June 1919. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

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Library full or limited access cards. Southern Pines Fire Station No. 2, intersection of Waynor Road and N.C. 22, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

PERFORMANCE. 4:45 p.m. Join Kirk Tours for a Bandstand performance. Cost: $130/person. Bus departs at 4:45 p.m. and the performance starts at 8 p.m. Cost includes premium seating, a three course dinner and transportation. Info and registration: (910) 295-2257 or www.kirktours.com.

THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 12:46 p.m. and 6:46 p.m. Kruger Brothers. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www. theroosterswife.org. Tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

CONTRACT BRIDGE. 1–4:30 p.m. A card game played by four people in two partnerships, in which “trump” is determined by bidding. Ages 55 and up. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

Thursday, January 30

Mondays

ART CLASS. 12:30–3:30 p.m. Pam Grier teaches about the process of painting with alcohol ink. For beginning artists. The class runs through Jan. 23. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979 or www.artisleague.org.

COFFEE AND CONVERSATION. 9–10:30 a.m. Adults 55 and older can come out to watch their favorite morning shows or discuss different topics. Bring your own coffee or bring $1 to share ours. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 6:46 p.m. Doors open at 6 p.m. DamnTall Buildings. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org. Tickets: www. ticketmesandhills.com. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Join the Symphony as Grant Llewellyn conducts Britten and Elgar. Lee Auditorium, Pinecrest High School, 250 Voit Gilmore Lane, Southern Pines. Info: (877) 627-6724 or www.ncsymphony.org.

UPCOMING EVENTS Saturday, February 1 PHOTO CLUB. 9 a.m.–4:30 p.m. Come to a workshop on Adobe Lightroom Classic Photo Editing Program hosted by the Sandhills Photography Club. Cost is $125

WEEKLY EVENTS

INDOOR WALKING. 9:30–11:30 a.m. Improve balance and blood pressure, and maintain healthy bones with one of the best methods of exercise. Classes are held at the same time Monday through Friday. Ages 55 and up. Cost for six months: $15/resident; $30/non-resident. Southern Pines Recreation Center, 210 Memorial Park Ct., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. BABY RHYMES: READ TO YOUR BUNNY. 10:30 a.m. This story time, reserved for ages birth to 24 months, will engage parents and children in early literacy brainbuilding practices. Dates this month are January 7, 14, 21 and 28. Programs are limited to 25 children and their accompanying adult per session. Parents or caregivers must check in with their valid Southern Pines Public

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MASTER GARDENER TRAINING. 6–8 p.m. Receive a high level of training in all aspects of horticulture. Training fee is $85 for those accepted into the program. Moore County Agricultural Center, 707 Pinehurst Ave., Carthage. Info: (910) 947-3188. MASTER GARDENER HELP LINE. 10 a.m.–12 p.m. If you have a garden problem, a garden pest, a question, or if you want help deciding on plant choices, call the Moore County Agriculture Cooperative Extension Office. Knowledgeable Master Gardener volunteers will research the answers for you. The helpline is available Monday through Friday and goes through October 31. Walk-in consultations are available during the same hours at the Agricultural Center, 707 Pinehurst Ave., Carthage. Info: (910) 947-3188. WORKOUTS. 8:30 a.m.–5 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to get their workout on. Cost for six months: $15/ resident; $30/non-resident. The gym is open Monday through Friday from 8:30 a.m. – 5 p.m. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376.

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260 W. Pennsylvania Ave • Southern Pines, NC • 336-465-1776 110

CA L E N DA R Tuesdays TRIVIA GAMES. 10 a.m.–12 p.m. Adults 55 and older can compete with friends in trivia games to see who knows the most about everything. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. BABY RHYMES: READ TO YOUR BUNNY. 10:30 and 11 a.m. (two sessions). This story time, reserved for ages birth to 24 months, will engage parents and children in early literacy brain-building practices. Programs are limited to 25 children and their accompanying adult per session. Parents or caregivers must check in to story time sessions at the circulation desk up to an hour before the start time of each session with their valid SPPL full or limited access cards. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net. TAI CHI FOR HEALTH. 10–11:30 a.m. Practice this flowing Eastern exercise with instructor Rich Martin. Cost per class: $15/member; $17/non-member. Monthly rates available. No refunds or transfers. Cape Fear Botanical Garden, 536 N. Eastern Blvd., Fayetteville. Info and registration: (910) 486-0221. GAME DAY. 12 p.m. Enjoy Bid Whist and other cool games in the company of great friends. For adults 55 and older. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. TABLE TENNIS. 7–9 p.m. Enjoy playing this exciting game every Tuesday. Cost for six months is $15 for

residents of Southern Pines and $30 for non-residents. For adults 55 and older. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

Wednesdays COFFEE AND CONVERSATION. 9–10:30 a.m. Adults 55 and older can come out to watch their favorite morning shows or discuss different topics. Bring your own coffee or bring $1 to share ours. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. PRESCHOOL STORYTIME. 10:30 a.m. Especially for children ages 3–5, this story time focuses on stories, songs and fun, with a special emphasis on activities that build language and socialization skills to prepare for kindergarten. Dates this month are January 8, 15, 22 and 29. Stay for playtime. This event is limited to 25 children and their accompanying adult per session. Parents or caregivers must check in to story time sessions at the circulation desk up to an hour before the start time of each session with their valid SPPL full or limited access cards. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235. TAP CLASS. 11:30 a.m–1 p.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost per class: $15/resident; $30/ non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. YOGA IN THE GARDEN. 6–7 p.m. Improve flexibility,

build strength, ease tension and relax through posture and breathing techniques for beginners and experts alike. Free for CFBG and YMCA members, $5/non-members. Cape Fear Botanical Garden, 536 N. Eastern Blvd., Fayetteville. Info and registration: (910) 486-0221, ext. 36 or www.capefearbg.org. (Must register one day prior). Email questions to mzimmerman@capefearbg.org. CONTRACT BRIDGE. 1–4:30 p.m. A card game played by four people in two partnerships, in which “trump” is determined by bidding. Ages 55 and up. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. FARM TO TABLE. Join Sandhills Farm to Table Co-op by ordering a subscription of local produce to support our local farmers. Info: (910) 722-1623 or www.sandhillsfarm2table.com.

Thursdays GIVEN STORY TIME. 10:30–11:30 a.m. For ages 3–5. Wonderful volunteers read to children, and everyone makes a craft. Free and open to the public. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-6022. TODDLER TUNES. 10:30 a.m. Especially for children ages 18 –36 months, this program will incorporate stories and songs along with dancing, playing and games to foster language and motor skill development. Dates this month are January 9, 16, 23 and 30. This event is limited to 25 children and their accompanying adult per session. Parents or caregivers must check in to story time sessions

Restaurant Authentic Thai Cusine

U.S. Hwy 1 South & 15-501 1404 Sandhills Blvd. Aberdeen, NC 28315

Vegetarian Dishes & Gluten Free Available • No MSG

Lunch

Tuesday - Friday 11:00am - 2:30pm Saturday Closed for Lunch Sunday 11:30am - 2:30pm

Dinner

Tuesday - Sunday 5:00 pm - 9:30 pm Saturday 4:00 pm - 9:30 pm

www.thaiorchidnc.com

(910) 944-9299

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CA L E N DA R at the circulation desk up to an hour before the start time of each session with their valid SPPL full or limited access cards. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235. MAHJONG (Chinese version). 1–3 p.m. A game played by four people involving skill, strategy and calculation. Ages 55 and up. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. CHESS. 1–3 p.m. All levels of players welcome. You need a chess set to participate. Ages 55 and up. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. YOGA IN THE GARDEN. 6–7 p.m. Bring a yoga mat, water bottle and open mind to enjoy this all-level class to improve flexibility, build strength and relax. Cost per class: Free/member; $10/non-member per session or $30 for four classes. Cape Fear Botanical Garden, 536 N. Eastern Blvd., Fayetteville. Info and registration: (910) 486-0221.

Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays HISTORY OF PINEHURST TOUR. 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. (1 hour and 15 minutes each). Also by request. Experience the Home of American Golf on a guided windshield tour with Kirk Tours and learn about Mr. Tufts and some of Pinehurst’s celebrity patrons. Cost: $20/person. Departs from Pinehurst Historic Theatre, 90 Cherokee Road. Info and registration: (910) 295-2257 or www.kirktours.com.

PineNeedler Answers from page ��

Fridays COFFEE AND CONVERSATION. 9–10:30 a.m. Adults 55 and older can come out to watch their favorite morning shows or discuss different topics. Bring your own coffee or bring $1 to share ours. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

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TAP CLASS. 10–11:30 a.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost per class: $15/resident; $30/ non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. CONTRACT BRIDGE. 1–4:30 p.m. A card game played by four people in two partnerships, in which “trump” is determined by bidding. Ages 55 and up. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. JAZZY FRIDAYS. 6–10 p.m. Enjoy a bottle of wine and dancing with friends under the tent with live jazz music. Cost: $15/person. Must be 21 years of age or older. Reservations and pre-payment recommended for parties of eight or more. Soda, water and award-winning wines available for purchase. Food vendor on site. No outside beverages (alcoholic or non-alcoholic), coolers, picnic baskets or cooking devices permitted on premises. Birthday cakes, cheese trays and small items are acceptable. Anyone bringing in outside alcohol will be asked to leave with no refund. Cypress Bend Vineyards, 21904 Riverton Road, Wagram. Info: (910) 369-0411 or www. cypressbendvineyards.com. PS

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T S A R A P H I G E E S A M E A R Y S K E K E S I L H O P P O P S C A T H Y M I C O G L U H E R

D E N I N K Y R E N T

We are snuggling up for winter HERE IN HIGH COTTON!

high cotton CONSIGNMENT

910.483.4296

2800-4 Raeford Rd., Fayetteville, NC 28303 Follow us on

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Reverend John Talk

SandhillSeen

Dr. Jock Tate, Cameron Sadler, Tayloe Moye, Mike Russell

Opening Meet of the Moore County Hounds Buchan Field Thursday, November 28, 2019 Photographs by Jeanne Paine

Alistair Chic, Kelly Elliott, Craig Stokes

Lincoln Sadler, Mel Wyatt Gabriella, John & Marisa Mullany

Carol Lueder, Fran Gertz

Lincoln Sadler

Kimberly Daniels Taws, Whit Taws

Ethan & Reid Hoover

Sioux Forsyth-Green, Hope Forsyth, Madison Joyes

Terry Cook, Lester Seidenberg, Charlie Cook

Danielle Veasey and Hunt Field

Tom & Marsha Duffy

Cameron Sadler

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SandhillSeen Tin Whistles Christmas Party Pinehurst Country Club Tuesday, December 10, 2019 Photographs by Bill Case

Ben Bridgers, Judd & Janie White

Mikey & Bill Scarborough

Donna Janasek, Laurie Velett, Barbara McKitrick

Kirk & Laurie Velett

Brenda & Roger Denisar

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Frank & Debbie Marois, Mike & Beth Walker

Bob Eater, Lisa Case, Richard Agnew

John & Nancy Bouldry, Bill Case

Matt Massei, Marcie & Peter Hill

Jackie & Jim Curley, Mike McKitrick

John & Cynthia Strickland

Terry Davis, John McClain

Liz & Murray Stern, Mark Janasek

Jean & Terry Davis

Cynthia & Steve Davis

SandhillSeen “Christmas on Connecticut” Fabulous 40 Gala Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities Saturday, December 7, 2019 Photographs by Al and Annette Daniels

Jessica & Bradley Halling, Sue Huston, Chuck Deleot Michele Akin, Steve, Leonard & Jackie Grasso

Richard & Anne Agnew

Julie & John Rutgers, Dick & Mary ann McCrary, Mark Bickel, Lucinda Stanley

Sharon & Carnie Lawson

Ry Southard, Wendy Bowen

Shayna & Greg Dudak

Jim & Lorrie Larson

Jim & Mary Connell

Cindy Edgar, Tom Denza, Hartley Fitts, Clarke Edgar

Nelsa & Eric Spackey

Jim Daunheimer, Jamie McDevitt

Alisa King, Shannon Allison

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SandhillSeen

Kathleen Causey, Cav Peterson

Grayson, Becky, Grant & Greg Oldham

Tea on the Train Pinehurst Sunday, December 8, 2019

Photographs by Corinne and George Walls

Judie Wiggins, Theresa Tesh, Bonnie Becker-Jones

Norene Casavant, Char Magiera Sue Hoffmann, Tanya Young

Char Rohr, Julie Neff

Rosemarie Kuntz, Barbara Sobzak Abby Shultis, Robert Martin

Kathy Newcomb, Patti Talton

Dolores Muller, Barbara Brando

Rachel Carr, Jim Wiltjer Jennifer White, Rita, Robert & Anthony Menzies

Rose Miller, Jean Lawrence, Elizabeth Maloney

Leo Magiera, Ron Rhody

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January PineNeedler By Mart Dickerson

New Year Challenge ACROSS 1. Family dog, for short 4. Sonata, e.g. 8. Russian despot 12. Greek cheese 13. Get moving! 14. Plant insect 16. Declare 17. Pleasant 18. “Silly” birds 19. Big stringed instrument 21. Wet, as morning grass 23. Prayer ending 24. Moray, e.g. 25. Decant 27. Ring bearer, maybe 29. Gather, as crops 30. Wood layer 31. Get moving! 34. Measure 37. Snowman prop 38. Barbie’s beau 39. Curb, with “in” 40. Deck (out) 41. Scarf material 42. Setting for TV’s “Newhart” 43. Rind 45. Wind-swept lake water 47. Arctic bird 48. Ashes holder 49. Pigeon home 50. Chicken offering 51. “My bad!”comment 52. “Wheels”

New Year Challenge

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 Across 1. Family dog, for short 12 13 14 15 4. Sonata, e.g. 17 18 16 8. 55. Russian despot Reunion attendee, for short 12.58. Greek cheese 21 22 23 19 20 The “O” in S.R.O. 13.60. Get Moving! Culinary herb 25 26 27 28 24 14.62. Plant Getinsect moving! 16.64. Declare Aroma 29 30 31 32 33 17.66. Clickable image Pleasant 37 38 34 35 36 Command 18.67."Silly" birds Kill, as a bill 19.68. Big stringed 40 41 39 69. Overabundance instrument 43 44 45 46 42 Mover and shaker 21.70. Wet, as morning grass Againending 23.71.Prayer 48 49 47 72. His partner 24. Moray, e.g. 50 51 52 53 54 25. Decant 58 59 60 61 55 56 57 27.DOWN Ring bearer, maybe 1. Riverbank 29. Gather, as crops 64 65 66 62 63 2. Bikini, e.g. 30. Wood layer 3. Reprimand, with “out” 68 69 67 31. Get moving! 4. Buy 34.5.Measure 70 71 72 Took the tab 37.6.Snowman prop Gastric woe 38.7.Barbie's Warp beau 39.8.Curb, with 32. Food for sea urchins 50. Master of ceremonies What “it”"in" plays 40.9.Deck Black 51. Ancient (out) unit 49. Howling animal 20. Airy 68. Kill, as 33. a bill Asparagus 34. Opera highlight22. Canine cry 52. Get moving! 41.10. Scarf Getmaterial attention utterance 69. Overabundance 50. Master of ceremonies 35. Restaurant handout 53. French romance Standfor TV's 42.11.Setting 51. 26. Barn morsel Ancient 70. Mover and shaker "Newhart" 12. Confront 52.living? 28. Affirmative vote54. Cost of Get moving! 71. Again 36. Farm call 37. Campaigner, for short 55. “Much ___ Aboutromance Nothing” 43.15. Rind Animal house 53. French 29. Bleed, as cloth 72. His partner 40. Big ___ Conference 56. Biscuit fat 20. Airy 45. Wind-swept lake 54. Cost of living? 30. Sty occupant 41. Absorb, with “up”, as gravy 57. Annul Down water 22. Canine cry 55. "Much ___ About 31. Get moving! 43. Curly-tailed dog 59. ___ Scotia 1. River bank Barnbird morsel 47.26. Arctic Nothing" 32. Food for sea urchins 44. Therefore 61. Drunk Affirmative 2. Bikini, e.g. 48.28. Ashes holder vote 56. Biscuit fat 33. Black 45. with Policeman 63. “To ___ is human ...” Bleed,home as cloth 3. Reprimand, "out" 49.29. Pigeon Annul 34. Opera highlight 65. Propel57. 46. Party-giver a boat Sty occupant 4. Buy 50.30. Chicken offering 59. ___ Scotia 35. Restaurant handout Getbad!"comment moving! 5. Took the49. tab Howling animal 51.31."My 61. Drunk 36. Farm call 6. Gastric woe 52. "Wheels" 37. Campaigner, for short 63. "To ___ is human ..." 55. Reunion attendee, for 7. Warp Sudoku: 65. Propel a boat 40. Big ___ Conference short Fill in the grid so every 8. What "it" plays 41. Absorb, with "up", as row,inevery column and 58. The "O" S.R.O. 9. Asparagus unit gravy every 3x3 60. Culinary herbbox contain the 10. Get attention 43. Curly-tailed dog utterance 62. Get moving! numbers 1-9. 44. Therefore 11. stand 64. Aroma 45. Policeman 12. Confront 66. Clickable image 46. Party-giver 15. Animal house 67. Command

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8 Puzzle answers on page 112

Mart Dickerson lives in Southern Pines and welcomes suggestions from her fellow puzzle masters. She can be reached at gdickerson@nc.rr.com.

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T H E A C C I D E N TA L A S T R O L O G E R

Feeling Your Goats

Everyone will experience the Capricorn Effect in 2020 By Astrid Stellanova

Eat your peas and collards, Star Children. Tradition will matter. Soften

your hearts and strengthen your minds. On January 3, Mercury joins the Sun, Jupiter, Saturn and Pluto in Capricorn, meaning none of the signs can escape the Capricorn Effect in 2020. Here’s what the sky says: The new year brings a new vision, and, er, caps off the past two years of tumult, transition, mergers and misfires, with calculation and transformations that will change our realities. As any astrologer will tell you: The Goat always triumphs.

Capricorn (December 22–January 19) You have to think about your professional image, Sugar, or feel like you do. You’ve worried yourself half sick over how you stack up, because you pit yourself against an old nemesis with big juju. Basically everyone from Here Comes Honey Boo Boo could outclass this old blow-hard rival. Stop worrying. Aquarius (January 20–February 18) Confidential matters and family secrets have kept you knotted up. Listen, if karma won’t slap you, ole Astrid has to, because it’s time you noticed you don’t have to be the standard-bearer for integrity and discretion. Pisces (February 19–March 20) There are changes to your inner circle, and close networks that have been shifting. The old dynamic is completely changed, in case you didn’t notice. Want to be the ringmaster of the s*@t show? Don’t think so, Honey Bun. Aries (March 21-April 19) I’m thinking you seized the wrong freakin’ day, Ram. As your mission and position have changed, did you notice exactly what condition your condition was in? Right — you were too busy seizing. Let it go. Not yours to wrestle with. Taurus (April 20–May 20) You, Brothers and Sistahs, are sweet but twisted. Some of that blunt force you used will get you over the fence to new places this year, but also forces you to take a kinder view of the differences. That makes the new places mean something. Gemini (May 21–June 20) One side of you strongly wants to do the right thing. The other side of you wrestles with giving others their fair share, due credit and fair play. You insist it ain’t your pasture, not your bull crap, but, sometimes, Sugar, it is. Cancer (June 21–July 22) Focus on close relationships, Sweet Pea, like your partners at work and at

home. It is worth remembering that they are the ham in your ham sandwich. The jam in your PB&J. The clapper in your Liberty Bell. Leo (July 23-August 22) You aren’t a fan of fitness or workouts, but your life and lifestyle demand a reboot. It will also need to be interior — think volunteering or offering your services. Don’t rush when you’re waiting for the last dang minute. Virgo (August 23-September 22) The next generation, Sugar, is writ large in your sign. Think babies, teens, pregnancies and young adults populating your life. Things are coming full circle. What does this signify? Why don’t you overthink it? Libra (September 23–October 22) Home, family and land are all at the center of your world. Given how outdone you feel by those near and dear, realize everybody knows your give-adamn is busted all to pieces. But giving again, and communicating will be your redemption. Scorpio (October 23–November 21) You’re thinking, excuse me, Dante, but what circle of hell is this? Yet the things you excel at (even if you wish they would go away) include publishing, communicating and educating, and they keep offering opportunity. Take the stage, Sugar, and ascend. Sagittarius (November 22–December 21) Just show you the money. Everything you do concerning property, charity, and finance will work for you and benefit others. Keep your head up, Darlin’, or that crown will slide right off. PS For years, Astrid Stellanova owned and operated Curl Up and Dye Beauty Salon in the boondocks of North Carolina until arthritic fingers and her popular astrological readings provoked a new career path.

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SOUTHWORDS

Four-Alarm Coffee

By Beth MacDonald

I’d really like to be one of those calm,

put-together people when a crisis strikes, someone who’s graceful and elegant. Someone who can keep their wits about them when everyone else is losing theirs. My husband, Mason, somehow pulls it off. I am more like Kevin from Home Alone, slapping my face and screaming. Catastrophe never seems to have the decency to strike after I’ve gotten dressed and applied fresh makeup. Generally speaking, I wake up early, drink my coffee on my back porch in my pajamas and admire my garden. My hair looks Einstein-crazy and I’ve got the previous night’s makeup smudged on my face. Entertaining the Fire and Rescue Squad is not part of my normal routine. One morning, coffee mug in hand, my dog was barking at what I naturally assumed was the usual — nothing. “Shhh! Stop. Stop. Don’t bark. There are only deer out there.” “Bark. Bark. Barkbarkbark.” I rolled my eyes. I needed to engage the two useful brain cells that had awakened. I looked toward our garage and saw plumes of smoke rising above two trucks parked on the side of the detached building. I ran over, saw flames a few inches from the vehicles, rushed inside to wake Mason, and called 911. Exactly two breathless seconds into the call, I wished I hadn’t skipped Pilates for, let’s say, the last month. Between wheezing gasps stating my name and address, I tried to express the potential urgency of the fire. I had to repeat myself three times. The 911 operator couldn’t understand me. I sounded like Darth Vader trying to make an emergency call that the Death Star was about to blow up. Heaving, hunched over, I was finally able to get out the basic details. Mason calmly got out of bed, went directly to the source of the problem, took a shovel, and began to put the fire out at its base. I supervised. “Maybe you should get away from the gas tanks. They’re exactly six inches from the flames,” I said. He ignored me. He had on matching sweats, sneakers, his hair

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looked combed, and he was easily extinguishing a potential disaster. I looked like Garth from Wayne’s World. I was still trying to catch my breath when the firetruck pulled up. I looked down at myself, and bolted inside (they probably thought I was in search of my oxygen tank). I tried to put my hair in a ponytail so I looked somewhat presentable, but my low pony only made me look like a young man in Colonial America eager to start his woodworking apprenticeship. I went back outside. Vanity is useless when you’re at the mercy of others. Why was I even trying? The fire marshal was now on the scene and looking directly at our chimney, asking if we knew anyone who would have put hot ashes in the pine needles. Wait, what? I looked at Mason, my eyes bulging. “YOU did this?” “Yeah, I’m the dummy.” He said it so matter of fact, without shame. “You took the ashes out of the galvanized bucket and put them IN the pine needles?” “Yeah, uh huh, that happened.” He stood there, nodding, arms crossed, shoulders shrugging. I put my hoodie over my head and pulled the strings shut. I slowly started backing away toward my neighbor’s house like I lived there and was just an innocent bystander. My neighbor was taking pictures of the firetrucks in front of my house so I tried to hide in the bushes instead. Mason thanked everyone that came by to put the fire out. The town’s fire and rescue team was accommodating and kind, even though I knew we’d be the topic of a social media, public service announcement later. I could see it now, “Smokey Says Don’t Be a Moron.” I’m sure they wouldn’t use the word “moron,” they are much more professional than that. My internal monologue is not. Sometimes I think our lives serve as a living, breathing Public Service Announcement, a bold kind of volunteerism. While we were very aware of the danger we put ourselves in, we were even more grateful that we had a capable and amiable Fire and Rescue Squad. Later, Mason dropped off a thank you note with some cookies our daughter made. He apologized and promised not to be left unsupervised again — a promise he’s not capable of keeping considering I have no idea where he is at this very moment, and I can hear the not so distant buzz of power tools. PS Beth MacDonald is a Southern Pines suburban misadventurer that likes to make words up. She loves to travel with her family, read everything she can, and shop locally for her socks.

ILLUSTRATION BY MERIDITH MARTENS

Breakfast with fire and rescue

Buyer, Purveyor & Appraiser of Fine and Estate Jewellery 229 NE Broad Street • Southern Pines, NC • (910) 692-0551 Mother and Daughter Leann and Whitney Parker Look Forward to Welcoming You to WhitLauter.

At Stewart Construction, our standards mean more value for you. We believe quality is never an accident. It is always the result of intention, sincere effort and skillful execution. Our commitment to quality ensures that your home is built to last a lifetime. CONTACT US TODAY

Look for the â&#x20AC;&#x153;Markâ&#x20AC;? of a Great Builder 910-673-1929

mark@stewartcdc.com