May your troubles be less, and your blessings be more,
and nothing but happiness come through your door. -Irish Blessing
In the current market it may feel like you need luck to get you into the home of your dreams.
All you really need is an
Experienced and Dedicated REALTOR®
Jennifer Ritchie, REALTOR® Everything Pines Partners, LLC Call/Text: 910-987-5565 JenniferRitchieHomes@gmail.com
Listed with Coldwell Banker Advantage…
…and they’re gone!
These homes were listed with Coldwell Banker Advantage and weremarketed under in a ofmatter of days! When your property is expertly and contract displayed on hundreds websites worldwide, it’s going to get noticed. Are you serious about real estate? So are we. T AC TR! N O Y R C DA DE N 1 UN I
T AC TR! N O Y R C DA DE N 1 UN I
140 N Bracken Fern Lane, Southern Pines • $293,200
T AC TRS! N O Y R C DA DE 2 UN IN
1 Whitman Court, Jackson Springs • $345,000
T AC TRS! N O Y R C DA DE 2 UN IN
121 Whisper Grove Court, Whispering Pines • $365,000
107 S Glenwood Trail, Southern Pines • $345,000
T AC TRS! N O Y R C DA DE 3 UN IN
T AC TRS! N O Y R C DA DE 2 UN IN
4205 Murdocksville Road, Pinehurst • $248,000
25 Glen Meadow Court, Pinehurst • $550,000
T AC TRS! N O Y R C DA DE IN 5 N U
CT RA NTYS! O R C DA DE 5 UN IN
3 Deacon Palmer Place, Southern Pines • $380,000
125 S Catalpa Lane, Pinehurst • $492,000
T AC TR! N O Y R C DA DE N 1 UN I
44 E McKenzie Road, Pinehurst • $1,150,000
T AC TRS! N O Y R C DA DE 2 UN IN
395 Sedgefield Drive, Raeford • $274,000
T AC TRS! N O Y R C DA DE 4 UN IN
150 Linden Road, Pinehurst • $610,000
T AC TRS! N O Y R C DA DE IN 5 N U
166 James Drive, West End • $260,000
910-693-3300 • www.HomesCBA.com 910-693-3300 | www.HomesCBA.com 130 Turner Street, 130 Turner Street, Southern Pines, Pines, NorthNorth Carolina 28387 28387 Southern Carolina
Spring Has Sprung at Monkees! Join in the Fun!
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ENTIRE PURCHASE OF $150 OR MORE MARCH30 Use code to redeem in store or online *Some exclusions apply: cannot be combined with other promotions or discounts. Expires 3/31/21.
124 NW BROAD STREET SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28387 (910) 693-7463 M-SAT: 10 AM - 5 PM SUN: 12 PM - 4 PM monkeesofthepines.com @monkeesofthepines For private events and parties, email girls@monkeesofthepines.com
March ���� DEPARTMENTS 19 Simple Life
FEATURES 67 Pairing Mantids Poetry By Paul Jones
68 Photos by Joseph Hill 74 Painted Ponies Back in the Saddle Again
80 Why I Love Pool Halls By Bland Simpson
84 Seeing Triple
By Deborah Salomon Three options at one address
95 Almanac
By Ashley Wahl
By Jim Dodson
22 PinePitch 25 Good Natured
By Karen Frye
27 The Omnivorous Reader
Stephen E. Smith
31 Bookshelf 35 Hometown
By Bill Fields
37 In the Spirit
By Tony Cross
41 The Kitchen Garden
By Jan Leitschuh
45 The Creators of N.C.
By Wiley Cash
49 Out of the Blue By Deborah Salomon 51 Pleasures of Life Dept.
By Nancy Roy Fiorillo
55 Character Study
By Jenna Biter
59 Birdwatch
By Susan Campbell
60 Sporting Life
By Tom Bryant
63 Golftown Journal
On the cover: Joseph Hill, photograph by Tim Sayer Photograph this page by John Gessner 6
PineStraw
By Lee Pace
105 107 111
Arts & Entertainment Calendar SandhillSeen PineNeedler
By Mart Dickerson
112 Southwords
By Ashley Wahl
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Get Ready for April Showers 20% Off
All Abyss & Habidecor Towels, Rugs & Robes The Month of March
For over 90 years, DUX has blended sleep science with world-class craftsmanship to deliver one of the most advanced beds available. DUX, headquartered in Sweden, is committed to improving life through better sleep, combining research, the finest materials and the most experienced craftsmen, to ultimately provide a more healthful sleep. Resolve to invest in your health. Visit a DUXIANA® store near you to discover the difference The DUX Bed can make in your life.
Opulence of Southern Pines and DUXIANA at The Mews, 280 NW Broad Street, Downtown Southern Pines, NC 910.692.2744
at Village District, 400 Daniels Street, Raleigh, NC 919.467.1781
at Sawgrass Village, 310 Front Street Suite 815 Ponte Vedra Beach, FL 32082 904.834.7280
www.OpulenceOfSouthernPines.com Serving the Carolinas & More for Over 20 Years – Financing Available
Talent, Technology & Teamwork! Moore County’s Most Trusted Real Estate Team!
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PINEHURST • $439,000
SEVEN LAKES WEST•$332,000
111 W. CORNELIUS DRIVE Unique 4 BR / 3.5 BA 4-acre estate! Home is situated in nice location w/lots of space and an amazing pool house and indoor pool.
375 OAKMONT CIRCLE Impeccably maintained 3 BR / 2 Full BA and 2 Half BA single level home in prime location. Home has flowing layout and is less than a mile from the historic Village of Pinehurst.
339 LONGLEAF DRIVE Attractive 3 BR / 2.5 BA home on lovely, wooded lot. Home offers hardwood flooring in main living space and nice views of nearby Lake Auman.
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PINEHURST • $379,000
PINEHURST • $450,000
9 PRINCEVILLE LANE Appealing 4 BR / 2.5 BA home in Pinehurst #6. Home is situated on corner lot w/beautiful floorplan and secluded master suite.
21 WESTLAKE POINTE LANE Lovely two-story 4 BR / 3 BA home located on Lake Pinehurst. Home offers beautiful water views and has a list of impressive renovations.
90 E. MCCASKILL ROAD Nice 3 BR / 3.5 BA home w/cozy ‘Cottage’ vibes in great location. Situated in the heart of the historic Village the house is just around the corner from The Carolina Hotel.
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PINEHURST • $490,000
23 SHADOW DRIVE Great 3 BR / 3 BA lakefront home w/expansive views of Shadow Lake. The home has two master bedrooms on the main level and has been extensively renovated!
PINEHURST • $430,000
165 SW LAKE FOREST DRIVE Delightful 3 BR / 4.5 BA WATERFRONT home on Lake Pinehurst w/beautiful views and great screened in back porch perfect for morning coffee or lazy afternoons.
335 DORAL DRIVE Picturesque 3 BR / 3.5 BA golf front home w/ charming and unique floorplan. Home offers wide vistas of Course #1 and 4th hole of Pinehurst CC.
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IN MOORE COUNTY REAL ESTATE FOR OVER 20 YEARS!
Luxury Properties Moore County’s Most Trusted Real Estate Team!
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PINEHURST • $675,000 23 STONEYKIRK DRIVE Amazingly beautiful 4 BR / 3.5 BA WATERFRONT home w/lots of curb appeal and overlooks picturesque Lake Pinewild.
PINEHURST • $785,000
PINEHURST • $525,000
20 WALNUT CREEK ROAD Custom 5 BR / 4.5 BA home w/over 5500 sq.ft of luxury living. Located in desirable Fairwoods on #7 this home offers open layout w/pool and patio in large backyard.
24 POMEROY DRIVE Delightful 3 BR / 3.5 BA custom home situated off the first tee of the ever popular Holly course in beautiful Pinewild.
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PINEHURST • $540,000
PINEHURST • $775,000
52 PINEWILD DRIVE Stunning 4 BR / 3 BA home in Pinewild w/versatile floorplan. Classic Southern Living at its finest w/2 large bonus room and fantastic outdoor space.
29 GREYABBEY DRIVE Elegant all-brick 4 BR / 3.5 BA home situated on 8th fairway of the Magnolia course in Pinewild. Bright open floorplan and great views of the course.
26 OXTON CIRCLE Appealing 4 BR / 3.5 BA home in great location w/ spacious layout, gorgeous with views of golf and water. Tons of appeal inside and out.
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FOXFIRE • $575,000
PINEHURST • $580,000
SEVEN LAKES WEST • $1,050,000
115 REYNWOOD COURT Alluring custom built 4 BR / 4.5 BA modern farmhouse situated on almost 6 acres. Home offers spectacular layout where each bedroom has its own bathroom!
80 FIELDS ROAD Quintessential 4 BR / 3.5 BA Old Town Cottage with all the charm and style expected in a vintage 1920’s property.
199 MORGANWOOD DRIVE Amazingly beautiful and serene 4 BR / 3.5 BA place to call home. Layout is spacious w/tons of detail throughout and year ‘round stream in back - truly breathtaking!
Re/Max Prime Properties, 5 Chinquapin Rd., Pinehurst, NC 910-295-7100 • 800-214-9007 • Re/Max Prime Properties 5 Chinquapin Rd., Pinehurst, NC
www.ThEGENTRYTEAM.COM
• 910-295-7100
Cypress Cottage
in the
Village
M A G A Z I N E Volume 17, No. 3 David Woronoff, Publisher Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director 910.693.2467 • andie@thepilot.com
Jim Moriarty, Editor
910.692.7915 • jjmpinestraw@gmail.com
Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer 910.693.2508
Lauren M. Coffey, Graphic Designer 910.693.2469
CONTRIBUTING EDITORS
Jim Dodson, Editor Emeritus Deborah Salomon, Staff Writer
CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS
John Gessner, Laura Gingerich, Tim Sayer
CONTRIBUTORS Jenna Biter, Harry Blair, Tom Bryant, Susan Campbell, Bill Case, Mallory Cash, Wiley Cash, Tony Cross, Brianna Rolfe Cunningham, Mart Dickerson, Bill Fields, Laurel Holden, Sara King, Jan Leitschuh, John Loecke, Meridith Martens, D.G. Martin, Jason Oliver Nixon, Mary Novitsky, Lee Pace, Todd Pusser, Joyce Reehling, Scott Sheffield, Stephen E. Smith, Angie Tally, Kimberly Taws, Daniel Wallace, Ashley Wahl, Claudia Watson, Renee Whitmore ADVERTISING SALES
Ginny Trigg, Advertising Director 910.693.2481 • ginny@thepilot.com
120 Magnolia Road • Old Town • Pinehurst Loaded with charm in all the old-fashioned ways, from the sleeping porch to the front porch swing, this “Tufts” cottage built in 1896, has been carefully updated with preservation of original details in mind. Particularly meaningful, in the chill of winter, is the restoration of the radiator system. The cozy cottage is toasty warm. Wrapped by porches and a backyard deck, the cottage offers a ground floor bedroom, bath and powder room, upstairs are a master with fireplace and 2 BR, 2 BA. Highlights include heart pine floors, plenty of cozy spots and a guest house with kitchen, and laundry. NEW LISTING. Offered at $950,000.
To view more photos, take a virtual tour or schedule a showing, go to:
Maureen Clark
www.clarkpropertiesnc.com
when experience matters
Pinehurst • Southern Pines BHHS Pinehurst Realty Group • 910.315.1080 ©2015 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of American, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC.
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Jennie Acklin, 910.693.2515 Samantha Cunningham, 910.693.2505 Terry Hartsell, 910.693.2513 Erika Leap, 910.693.2514 ADVERTISING COORDINATOR
Emily Jolly • pilotads@thepilot.com
ADVERTISING GRAPHIC DESIGN
Mechelle Butler, Scott Yancey
PS Steve Anderson, Finance Director 910.693.2497 Darlene Stark, Circulation Director 910.693.2488 SUBSCRIPTIONS
910.693.2488 OWNERS
Jack Andrews, Frank Daniels Jr., Frank Daniels III, Lee Dirks, David Woronoff 145 W. Pennsylvania Avenue, Southern Pines, NC 28387 www.pinestrawmag.com ©Copyright 2021. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. PineStraw magazine is published by The Pilot LLC
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
1215 Massachusetts Avenue • Southern Pines The Lodge offers elevated living on a beautiful woodland acre in Weymouth Woods. Built in 1984, with over 4,000 sq ft, features a great room with fireplace, 4 BR, 4 BA, 3 car parking. Offered at $845,000
5 Merion Place • CCNC • Pinehurst Rambling, fun-filled home on 5 acres, has it all for family living: 2 family rooms with fireplaces, 4 BR, 4.2 BA, guest apartment, main floor master, 5500 sq ft., 3 car garage. $899,000
Maureen Clark
910.315.1080 • www.clarkproperties.com
205 Crest Road • Southern Pines
Classic Colonial Revival in Knollwood Heights, built in 1930 on 2 acres, 6700 sq ft with 5 BR, 5.5 BA and attached 2 car garage. Highlights include fireplaces in living, dining, master and Carolina room, original hardwoods, and large backyard pool. Offered at $995,000
123 Pinefield Court • Southern Pines Built in 2006, this 6580 sq ft residence on 8 acres includes 5 BR, 6.5 BA, theater room, billiard room, open living plan, wine cellar, 3 car garage and outdoor kitchen. Gated privacy. Offered at $1,900,000
451 Old Mail Road • Southern Pines
The jewel of Moore County’s horse country, Fox Hollow Farm is secluded on 10.52 acreswith easy access to thousands of acres of equestrian land. 4BR, 4.5BA, 5,276 sq ft. New Price $1,950,000
Chanticleer at Forest Creek • Pinehurst
French country cottages designed by Mark Parsons in prestigious Forest Creek Golf Club. 113 Chanticleer, the Sebright Design is available for $522,500 with a mid-June completion date. Four lots remaining.
Berkshire Hathaway HomeSercies and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.Housing Opportunity.
Always a Step Ahead
What's your home worth? Thinking about selling your home? Contact us for a no-hassle, no-cost market analysis of your home's current value.
Serving Moore County and Surrounding Areas! 910.684.8674 | 120 N ASHE ST | SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28387
www.maisonteam.com PRICE REDUCED
MLS 203522 949 KENSINGTON PARK ROAD Fayetteville, NC • $220,000
MLS 203729 580 W MAINE AVENUE Southern Pines, NC • $259,900
MLS 202820 142 LANCASHIRE LANE West End, NC • $400,000
MLS 204181 4 GREENBRIER LANE Pinehurst, NC • $445,000
MLS 203362 453 HERITAGE FARM ROAD Carthage, NC • $450,000
MLS 203976 4 SHADOW LANE Whispering Pines, NC • $519,000
PENDING
PENDING
PENDING
MLS 204102 21 DANDELION PLACE Spring Lake, NC • $315,000
MLS 203803 545 FOOTHILLS STREET Aberdeen, NC • $296,960
MLS 203804 551 FOOTHILLS STREET Aberdeen, NC • $297,300
PENDING
PENDING
BACK ON MARKET
MLS 203996 675 SAND PIT ROAD Aberdeen, NC • $325,000
MLS 204171 1247 BIRCHMERE WAY Fayetteville, NC • $219,000
MLS 203869 436 MCLENDON HILLS DRIVE West End, NC •$534,999
Buy, Sell or Rent through us - we do it all! 910.684.8674 | 120 N ASHE ST | SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28387
M A R C H
I S
Doing everything you can to save your vision starts by making an appointment with Board Certified Ophthalmologist
Anton Vlasov, DO at 910•215•2673
www.pinehurstsurgical.com
Ophthalmology
LUXURY
LUXURY
10 Village Green Road, Pinehurst
$2,989,999 5 bed • 4/2 bath
Emily Hewson (910) 315-3324 Pamela O’Hara (910) 315-3093
Original schoolhouse on 1st fairway of #2 golf course. Totally renovated. Enclave blends tradition with luxury ameneities. Garage apartment.
Frank Sessoms (910) 639-3099
Extraordinary waterfront lifestyle. Amazing view of Otter Pond at Pinehurst National #9. 5826 sqft heated. PCC charter membership.
MLS 204344
13 Elkton Drive Lot 1041, Pinehurst
$375,000 Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523
Water and golf front on approximately .76 acres overlooking the water and the 17th fairway on North at Forest Creek Golf Club.
MLS 204170
Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 204208
Remarkable golf front lot overlooking the 3rd and 4th fairways of South course at Forest Creek Golf Club. Approximately 1.70 acres.
3 bed • 3/1 bath Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 203384
150 Crest Road, Pinehurst
$990,000
5 bed • 4/1 bath
Jennifer Nguyen (910) 585-2099 Karen Iampietro (910) 690-7098
MLS 200500 Chimbley House: c1922 has been completely renovated into an elegant updated home. Surrounded by a spectacular garden. Private but minutes from downtown.
128 W Chelsea Court, Southern Pines
$325,000
2 bed • 2 bath
Jennifer Nguyen (910) 585-2099
Camden Villas of Mid South. Bright and open floor plan with golf view. Upgrades throughout. Carrolina Room and study/office. 2 car garage.
Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 203422
250 E McCaskill Road, Pinehurst
$785,000
Emily Hewson (910) 315-3324 Pamela O’Hara (910) 315-3093
Golf front on approximately .34 acres overlooking the 11th fairway on North at Forest Creek Golf Club. A Tom Fazio designed course.
Prime Old Town location. 2.23 commercial acres next to Pinehurst Brewery. Located on McCaskill and Magnolia roads. Zoned VMU — Village mixed use.
MLS 198787
103 Forest Creek Drive, K, Pinehurst
$300,000
1 bed • 1 bath
Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 203664
4 Kenwood Court Lot 1602, Pinehurst
$160,000
Downsizing done for you, without sacrificing space. This casual sophistication & timeless style are the hallmarks of this gracefully presented home in the prestigious gated, Forest Creek. Potential for another bedroom to be built above the garage. Expansive outdoor living on multiple lots.
LUXURY
MLS 204389
33 Chestertown Drive Lot 1017, Pinehurst
$175,000
BHHSPRG.COM
LUXURY
30 Royal Dublin Downs, Pinehurst 4 bed • 5/1 bath
$1,545,000
MLS 182223
LUXURY
$1,300,000
14 Cumberland Drive, Pinehurst
Play & stay! Located in the private gated community at Forest Creek Golf Club. This clubhouse suite overlooks famed South golf course. Fully furnished and decorated by Ferry, Hayes & Allen designers of Atlanta, GA.
106 Elkington Way, Pinehurst
$65,900 Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 203067
Private lot located on the corner of a cul-de-sac. Lot is perfect size to build a two story, but large enough to accommodate a one story. Located at Forest Creek Golf Club. Premier gated community in the Sandhills area.
Pinehurst • 42 Chinquapin Road, Pinehurst, NC 28374 • 910 -295 - 5504 | Southern Pines • 167 Beverly Lane, Southern Pines, NC 28387 • 910-692-2635 ©2021 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC.
SERVICE DEPARTMENT OFFERS
LIFETIME LIMITED POWERTRAIN WARRANTY! UNLIMITED TIME… UNLIMITED MILES! NO ADDITIONAL COST! Lifetime limited non-factory warranty on all new Toyotas. Good at participating dealerships nationwide. No additional charge. See dealer for details. 2 YEARS NO COST MAINTENANCE! * The first fir 2 years/25,000 miles are covered under the Toyota Care program. VALUE SHIELD Diminished value vehicle protection. 1 year $5,000 benefit included on every new vehicle. OUR BEST PRICE DIFFERENCE!** If within 3 days of purchasing your new vehicle from us, you find a lower price on the exact same vehicle on our lot, we will refund you 100% of the difference! 100% CUSTOMER SATISFACTION GUARANTEE!*** CU If within 72 hours of purchasing your new or pre-owned vehicle you are not completely satisfied, bring it back and exchange it for another vehicle at Pinehurst Toyota! *2 years No Cost Maintenance and 5 years Roadside Assistance provided by ToyotaCare. **Must present
Ipsum written offer or ad onLorem exact same vehicle from our dealership. ***Mileage driven must not exceed 200 miles.
BROWSE INVENTORY I GET PRE-APPROVED I COMPLETE PAPERWORK
CURBSIDE PICK-UP & DELIVERY OF YOUR NEW CAR!
910-684-4028 PinehurstToyota.com
10760 Hwy 15-501, Southern Pines, NC 28388
SIMPLE LIFE
In the Beginning
A grande dame, an old beech and other memory-keepers on the path to this gardener’s genesis By Jim Dodson
Fifteen years ago, a grande
dame of English gardening named Mirabel Osler smiled coyly over a goblet of merlot and said something I’ll never forget. “You know, dear,” she declared, “being a gardener is perhaps the closest thing you’ll ever get to playing God. Please don’t let on to the Almighty, however. He thinks He gets to have all the fun.”
The café in Ludlow, Osler’s Shropshire market town, claimed a Michelin star. But the real star that early spring afternoon in the flowering Midlands of England was Dame Mirabel herself. Spry and witty, the 80-year-old garden designer had reintroduced the classic English “cottage garden” to the mainstream with her winsome 1988 book, A Gentle Plea for Chaos. The intimate tale of how she and her late husband transformed their working farm into a botanical paradise where nature was free to flourish became a surprise bestseller that fueled a worldwide renaissance in cottage gardening. It’s actually what inspired me to create my “faux English Southern Garden” on a forest hilltop in Maine. My visit with Osler was one of several stops I was making across England in the spring as part of a year-long odyssey through the horticulture world while researching a book about human obsession with gardens – including my own. When I asked Dame Mirabel why making a garden becomes so all-consuming and appealing, she had a ready answer. “I think among the most valuable things a garden does for the human soul is make us feel connected to the past and therefore each The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
other,” she said, sipping her wine. “We’re all old souls, you know, people who love plants. Especially trees.” She was delighted that I shared her enchantment with trees, mentioning a gorgeous old American beech that stood beside our house in Maine and how it became the centerpiece of my own wild garden. When my children were still quite young, we carved our initials into the beech — as one must do with its smooth, gray bark — hoping our names and the tree might reside together forever, or at least a couple hundred years. Unfortunately, our great beech was visibly ailing, which sent me on an odyssey to try to save it. That quest ultimately became a book called Beautiful Madness. “I think that’s the alchemy of a beautiful tree,” Dame Mirabel agreed. “They speak to us in a quiet language all their own. They watch over the days of our lives and will long outlive us. No wonder that everyone from Plato to the Druids of Celtic lore believed divinities resided in groves of trees. Trees are living memory-keepers.” Mirabel Osler passed away in 2016, age 91. Not long after Beautiful Madness was published in 2006, however, she wrote me a charming note to say how much she enjoyed reading about our visit in Ludlow. True to form, as my wife, Wendy, and I discovered on that unforgettable spring day, Dame Osler’s final garden was a chaotic masterpiece, a backyard filled with beautiful small trees and flowering shrubs arching over a narrow stone pathway. Not surprisingly, as this long, dark winter of 2021 approached its end, Dame Mirabel was on my mind anew as I began serious work and planning on what will be my fourth — and likely final — garden. Five years ago, Wendy and I purchased a handsome old bungalow in the neighborhood where I grew up, allowing me to spend the next three years transforming its front and side yards into my version of a miniature enchanted forest — my tribute to Dame Mirabel’s Shropshire garden. I nicknamed the long-neglected backyard dense with overgrown PineStraw
19
SIMPLE LIFE
shrubs and half-dead trees “The Lost Kingdom.” Reclaiming just half of this space was another odyssey, but more than a year later — and thanks to the assistance of a younger back and a Bobcat — a promising shade garden of ferns, hostas, Japanese maples and a handsome Yashino Japanese cedar now flourishes there. It reminds me of the many Asian-themed botanical gardens I’ve visited. That left only a final section of the “Lost Kingdom” to deal with, which I began clearing late last fall, resulting in a nice blank canvas half in shade, half in sun. Since Christmas Day, I’ve spent hours just looking at this space the way the author in me stares at a blank white page before starting a new book. Creating a new garden from scratch is both addictively fun and maddeningly elusive — a tale as old as Genesis. It’s neither for the faint of heart nor skint of wallet. Gardens, like children, mature and change over time. At best, gardeners and parents must accept that we are, in the end, simply loving caretakers for these living and breathing works of art. Although the Good Lord may have finished His or Her garden in just six days, I fully expect my new final project — which, in truth, is relatively small — to provide years of work and revision before my soul and shovel can rest. No complaint there, mind you. As the Secretary of the Interior (aka, my wife) can attest, her garden-mad husband enjoys few things more than getting strip-off-before-you-dare-come-into-this-house dirty in the great outdoors, possibly because his people were Orange
and Alamance county dirt farmers stretching back to the Articles of Confederation. Their verdure seems to travel at will through his bloodstream like runaway wisteria. After weeks of scheming and dreaming, sketching out elaborate bedding plans and chucking them, it finally came together when a dear old friend from Southern Pines named Max, renowned for his spectacular camellia gardens, gave me five of his original seedlings for the new garden. I planted them on the borders and remembered something Dame Mirabel said about old souls and trees being memory-keepers. Surrounded by Max’s grandiflora camellias, this garden will be a tribute to the trees and people I associate them with. A pair of pink flowering dogwoods already anchor a shady corner of the garden where a peony border will pay tribute to the plant-mad woman who taught me to love getting dirty in a garden, my mom. Nearby will be a pair of flowering crab apple trees like the pair that bloomed every spring in Maine, surrounded by a trio of Japanese maples that I’ve grown from sprouts, linked by a winding path of stone. A fine little American beech already stands at the heart of this raw new garden, a gift from friends that recalls the old beech tree that sent me around the world. For now, this is a good start. There will be more to come. For a garden is never really finished, and I’ve only just begun. PS Jim Dodson can be reached at jim@thepilot.com.
Lin gets Results! toP 1 % of Moore County reaLtors toP 1 % of u.s. reaLtors
ENERGY. EXPERIENCE. EFFORT. WWW.LINHUTAFF.COM
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Lin Hutaff’s PineHurst reaLty GrouP Village of Pinehurst | 910.528.6427 | linhutaff@pinehurst.net The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
If Pinehurst has it, Lin can get it for you! Go to LinHutaff. com SOL
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315 N BEULAH HILL ROAD • OLD TOWN Elegant, historic, formal, “Cotton Cottage”. Restored Historic home with large Master Suite, indoor pool and elevator. New 3 bay garage. 6BD, 5 ½ BA. Offered at $1,250,000.
80 COMMUNITY ROAD • OLD TOWN “Thistle Cottage” was home to Annie Oakley in the early days of Pinehurst. Built in 1916. Updated in 1998 including Gourmet kitchen with Viking gas range, double oven, stainless, etc. 4BD, 3 ½ BA. Offered at $845,000.
64 STONEYKIRK DRIVE • PINEWILD Design or quality was not spared. Two Master suites on main level. Gourmet kitchen. Expansive wrap around deck. Separate living quarters on lower level. 4BD, 4 1/2BA. Offered at $825,000.
14 GREYABBEY DRIVE • PINEWILD Stunning, golf front, contemporary home with walls of glass. Amazing gourmet Kitchen boasts Miele and Thermidor appliances, Miele stainless hood. Superb. 5BD, 4 ½ BA. Offered at $795,000.
44 LASSWADE DRIVE • PINEWILD Charming and inviting custom built ‘’cottage’’’. Spacious (26X20) Great room has floor to ceiling windows, cozy fireplace and pass through to kitchen. Large island in the kitchen. 3BD, 2 ½ BA. Offered at $495,000
260 SW LAKE FOREST DR • LAKE PINEHURST Custom brick home on desirable Lake Forest Dr SW with floor to ceiling windows and large Carolina Rm. Kitchen with granite, open to family area and access to large Carolina Room. 3BD 2 BA. Offered at $359,900
215 INVERRARY ROAD • FAIRWOODS ON 7
4 AUGUSTA WAY • PINEHURST
Private Estate on over 4 acres within the gates of Fairwoods on 7, a gated Community on the Pinehurst Country Club grounds. Surrounded by 1000 feet of Golf frontage, gracious grounds, extensive covered porches. Gorgeous home with panoramic views.
Private Estate steps from OLD TOWN with spectacular grounds in the Donald Ross area. Terraced back yard flows to large Pond with total privacy. Character and charm abound in this Southern Country home with handsome “hunt room’ and cozy wine cellar.
ENERGY. EXPERIENCE. EFFORT.
Lin Hutaff’s PineHurst reaLty GrouP Village of Pinehurst | 910.528.6427 | linhutaff@pinehurst.net
PinePitch
TRUST BUT VERIFY: As our communities deal with the challenges presented by the novel coronavirus, please be aware that events may have been postponed, rescheduled or existed only in our dreams. Check before attending.
The Thrill Is Back
Set in a bigger, dirtier, scarier version of Charlotte in 1972, John Hart’s latest novel, The Unwilling, begins with Jason French’s return from three years in prison following a dishonorable discharge from the Marines during the Vietnam conflict. Jason is a heroin addict prone to violence whose folks aren’t thrilled about his homecoming. His younger brother, Gibby, desperately wants to re-establish a relationship with Jason, so they set out on a carefree journey that takes a chilling turn when they encounter a prison transfer bus on a stretch of empty road. Hart’s intricate, fictional plot began with two seeds from real life, the My Lai massacre in Vietnam and a moment 30 years ago when Hart and his then-girlfriend were headed to Wrightsville Beach and ended up on a deserted road with a prison transfer bus. What if the girl in the convertible lifted her shirt? “I wrapped those (ideas) up in a family story that takes place in a community split by war,” says the New York Times bestselling author of fast-paced thrillers. For more information about The Unwilling and upcoming virtual events, visit johnhartfiction. com or follow @johnhartauthor on Instagram.
Tea on Wheels Join the potters of Seagrove on a relaxing walkabout beginning at 10 a.m. on Saturday, March 13. Participating shops will have goodie bags to take home, including tea from Carriage House Tea of Asheboro. For more information visit www.teawithseagrovepotters.webstarts.com.
St. Patty Pick Me Up Get ready for St. Patrick’s Day with a boxed dinner catered by Broad Street Bakery and Café. Create your own picnic or take it away on Sunday, March 14 from 5 – 6 p.m. at the Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Dinner will include corned beef, potatoes, cabbage carrots, soda bread and dessert. Tickets are $25 for Weymouth members and $35 for non-members. Reserve your serving by March 9. For information and tickets call (910) 692-6161 or go to either www.weymouthcenter.org or www.ticketmesandhills.com.
Bring an Oscar to Lunch The Sandhills Woman’s Exchange will host movie buff Ron Layne for a presentation on “Movies and the Oscars” on Thursday, March 11, at 10 a.m. There will be lunch and dessert to follow. Reservations are $25 per person. The Sandhills Woman’s Exchange, 15 Azalea Road, Pinehurst. For information call (910) 295-4677.
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Young Cézannes Art from the annual Young People’s Fine Arts Festival, showcasing the work of Moore County Schools students from kindergarten through the eighth grade, will be on display at the Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines, beginning Friday, March 5, at 9 a.m. The show will continue through March 26. For more information call (910) 692-2787 or go to www.mooreart.org.
Movies on the Grass
Another Bite at the Corned Beef Given Memorial Library and Elliott’s on Linden present St. Patrick’s Day Given-To-Go on March 17 from 5:30 to 6:30 p.m. Ticket sales for the traditional meal of corned beef, cabbage and more begin on March 1. Dinner for two is $40. For information call (910) 2953642 or email giventufts@gmail.com.
Bring your blankets and chairs for outdoor movies at the Sunrise Theater. On Friday, March 12, they’ll be showing Back to the Future at 7 p.m.; and on Friday, March 19 the feature will be Airplane! at 8 p.m. As a bonus, ET will make an Earthly appearance on Friday, April 2, at 8 p.m. For more information call (910) 692-3611 or go to www.sunrisetheater.com.
Egg Spotting Fill up those Easter baskets at a flashlight egg hunt for children ages 3 – 12 on Friday, March 26, from 7 - 8 p.m. at Memorial Park, 210 Memorial Park Court, Southern Pines. For information call (910) 692-7376.
Artists League The Artists League of the Sandhills March exhibition featuring the members’ work in multiple media will be on display beginning Friday, March 5, from 5 – 7 p.m. It continues through March 25 at the Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. For additional information call (910) 944-3979.
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G O O D NAT U R E D
Spring Fever Here comes the pollen
By Karen Frye he best defense for seasonal allergy sufferers is prevention. Prepare for the onslaught of pollen before it arrives. Natural remedies work well alleviating symptoms like itchy eyes, stuffy or runny nose, sinus congestion and headaches, and even extreme fatigue. Some over-the-counter medications work, but the side effects can be a problem. After the long, cold winter, we always look forward to spring. To be outside planting flowers and tending the garden, enjoying some warmer weather is our reward for the cold, gray days of winter. But for some of us, the suffering is so severe that we have to medicate to function. So start now, especially if you are planning on using local honey as an allergy remedy. The sooner you begin consuming local honey daily, the easier it will be for your body to develop a resistance to pollen. This is especially helpful for folks who have just moved to the area, where the pollens are of a different variety than the kind their body is used to. Keeping your immune system strong will lessen the severity of a histamine response or may completely clear it up. Stinging nettle is a very potent antihistamine. Many people drink the tea daily with great results. There are also capsules and tinctures that are quite easy to use to lessen allergic reactions and reduce inflammation in the sinuses. Another herb that works well for sinus congestion and headaches is eyebright. And the plant extract from the frankincense tree, Boswellia, works on a cellular level to reduce inflammation and allergic reactions. It also opens and clears the bronchial passages. A very popular combination of vitamin C, bromelain from pineapple, and quercetin (a bioflavinoid) boosts the immune system and prevents allergy systems from manifesting in the body. Xlear is another useful over-the-counter remedy. The nasal spray contains xylitol, a sugar that’s found in fruits and vegetables. This ingredient inhibits the pollens and allergens from attaching to the nasal passages, so they cannot replicate and cause discomfort. You may have heard of xylitol from your dentist. It also reduces tooth decay and can be found in toothpaste and chewing gum. I almost forgot to mention the one that worked for me last spring — a homeopathic combination formulated by Dr. Frank King in Asheville. He developed allergy remedies for specific regions of the country. We use the Southeast formula here. After one dose of that I was fine for the rest of the allergy season. We have such a beautiful spring, my hope is for you to enjoy it without sniffling and sneezing. PS Karen Frye is the owner and founder of Nature’s Own and teaches yoga at the Bikram Yoga Studio.
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A West Coast Lifestyle Boutique
CoolSweats in the Village of Pinehurst 910.295.3905 105 Cherokee Rd, Pinehurst, NC 28374 PineStraw
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MARCH IS NATIONAL COLORECTAL CANCER MONTH
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THE OMNIVOROUS READER
Feeling a Bit Eel A deep dive into mystery
By Stephen E. Smith
When asked why women found
him irresistible, heavyweight boxing champ Jack Johnson responded in the first-person plural: “We eat cold eels and think distant thoughts.”
If you’re wondering what that means (the probable double entendre notwithstanding), you’re not alone. Unfortunately, you won’t find the answer in Patrik Svensson’s The Book of Eels, although this New York Times bestseller and winner of the National Outdoor Book Award contains information aplenty about the enigmatic eel — a fish belonging to the order Anguilliformes, comprised of eight suborders, 19 families, 111 genera and about 800 species. Unless you’re an unlucky fisherman (eels are not a sought-after game fish) or a bumbling scuba diver, it’s unlikely you’ve come in contact with this squirmy creature that lurks in the darkness at the bottom of oceans, rivers and lakes, and you’re probably wondering why you’d read a book about them. But Svensson’s focus is on an important and timely truth: The lowly eel is linked with every other organism, including the squirmiest of them all, homo sapiens — and that makes The Book of Eels a compelling read, especially in light of the pandemic that has swept the planet. To this point, Svensson weaves a series of personal vignettes with believe-it-or-not facts (e.g.: The Pilgrims were saved from starvation by eating eels) and biographical sketches of scientists who were determined to discover the eel’s place in the ecosystem. He opens with a detailed breakdown of the eel’s life cycle, which begins in the Sargasso Sea where fertilized eggs hatch into gossamer leptocephalus larvae known as “willow leaves.” Over a period of years, these delicate organisms drift the ocean currents and are eventually deposited in rivers and lakes (the eel can survive in salt and fresh water and for long periods in the open air), where they transform into elvers and then into yellow eels before becoming the silver eels that return to the Sargasso Sea to spawn and die. This progression can consume decades, and eels have been rumored to live more than a hundred years, suspending the aging process to adapt to environmental stresses. The personal narratives that frame the story center on Svensson’s father, who worked asphalting roads during the day and fished The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
for eels in the evenings. Recalling the time they shared becomes a metaphor for one’s passage through life. “The stream represented his roots, everything familiar he always returned to . . . (The eels were) a reminder of how little a person can really know, about eels or other people, about where you come from and where you’re going.” Other narrative threads explore the professional lives of A-list eel fanatics, beginning with no less a personage than Aristotle, who spent years studying eels and believed that they sprang spontaneously from mud (so much for Aristotelian logic). Pliny the Elder, a Roman naturalist and philosopher, guessed that eels reproduced by rubbing up against rocks that loosened particles that turned into baby eels. Other eel aficionados abound — Francesco Redi, Carl Linnaeus, Carlo Mondini and Giovanni Grassi. Even Sigmund Freud was a devoted eel researcher (what could be more Freudian?), who spent four weeks in Trieste, dissecting eels in an unsuccessful search for their male reproductive organs. It was Johannes Schmidt, a marine biologist, who achieved the great breakthrough concerning the eel’s life cycle. In 1904, he chartered the steamship Thor and launched a determined effort to find the eels’ breeding grounds, spending most of his professional life doggedly trawling for willow leaves in the Mediterranean Sea and the North Atlantic until he tracked them by size back to the Sargasso Sea, an astonishing 18-year exercise in singular obsession. But it’s Rachel Carson, best known as the author of The Silent Spring and an early heroine of the environmental movement, that garners most of Svensson’s admiration. Despite her proclivity for anthropomorphizing the eel, he finds her writing in The Sea Around Us both inspirational and personally revealing, quoting her extensively: “As PineStraw
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OMNIVOROUS READER
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long as the tide ebbed, eels were leaving the marshes and running out to sea. Thousands passed the lighthouse that night, on the first lap of a far sea journey . . . And as they pass through the surf and out to sea, so they also passed from human sight and almost from human knowledge.” Svensson is thus lulled into humanizing eels, speculating that they don’t experience tedium the way humans do, and sliding again into metaphor “. . . life is over in the blink of an eye: we are born with a home and heritage and we do everything we can to free ourselves from this fate . . . but soon enough, we realize we have no choice but to travel back to where we came from, and if we can’t get there, we’re never really finished . . .” Sprinkled throughout Svensson’s narratives there are tips on eel fishing, a litany of less-than-appetizing eel recipes (the Japanese consider eel a delicacy), a touch of philosophical speculation, and more than enough sentimentality, including a conclusion that borders on mawkish. So who would enjoy Svensson’s eel book? If you’re a fan of John McPhee’s work — The Control of Nature, Encounters with the Archdruid, Oranges, The Pine Barrens, etc. — you’ll likely find The Book of Eels a compelling and informative read. Like McPhee’s monographs, Svensson’s story is more profound than its technical parts, evolving into philosophical musings on the mysteries of life and death. At the very least, readers will discover a level of environmental awareness that’s timely and valuable. Do we know all there is to know about the eel’s life cycle? Despite Schmidt’s intense devotion to discovering the eel’s reproductive behavior, no human has ever seen two eels mate, and no one has seen an eel, alive or dead, in the Sargasso Sea. It remains a mystery. Probably Jack Johnson’s snarky response to inquiries about his love life was right on the money: There are questions that don’t require answers. 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. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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THE ONLY LIMITATION IS YOUR IMAGINATION
The Harder You Work, The Luckier You Get.
BRICKWORK
STONEWORK
FIREPLACES
OUTDOOR LIVING
910-944-0878 30
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www.howellsmasonry.com 10327 Hwy 211 • Aberdeen, NC 28315 The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
BOOKSHELF
March Books FICTION The Lowering Days, by Gregory Brown Set in the majestic and austere Penobscot River region of Northern Maine is a land revered by centuries of indigenous people for its abundance, and later, taken, depleted and poisoned by Europeans. At the center of the story are the lives of young people attempting to right the wrongs of adults, past and present. When a teenage girl of the Penobscot Nation sets fire to an abandoned mill, a series of events is unleashed between two neighboring families with an uneasy history. The writing in this novel is chock-full of breathtaking lines and unforgettable characters, alongside a deeply satisfying tale. We Begin at the End, by Chris Whitaker A picturesque California coastal town sets the scene for the story of a cast of unforgettable characters. Duchess is a 13-year-old with a foul mouth and an iron will to protect her vulnerable little brother and mother from her repeated bad decisions. The local police chief, Walk, keeps an eye on his hometown and its residents, while attempting to resist inevitable change. When his best childhood friend is released from prison after a 30-year sentence, a series of events is set into motion that will spiral out of control. More than a crime novel, it’s a beautifully written, spellbinding tale imbued with intensity, passion, loyalty, lust and greed. Surviving Savannah, by Patti Callahan It was called “The Titanic of the South.” The luxury steamship Pulaski sank in 1838 with Savannah’s elite on board. Through time, their fates were forgotten until the wreck was found, and now their story is finally being told in this breathtaking novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Becoming Mrs. Lewis. This is a moving and powerful exploration of what women will do to endure in the face of tragedy, the role fate plays, and the myriad ways we survive. The Windsor Knot, by S.J. Bennett When a musician is found dead in Windsor Castle after a “dine and sleep,” it appears to be a cut and dried suicide. After further investigation, however, it is determined to be murder — and possibly an inside job. The queen leaves the investigation to the professionals until their suspicions point them in the wrong direction. Unhappy at the mishandling of the case and concerned for her staff’s morale, the monarch decides to discreetly take matters into her own hands. Anyone who loves The Crown will adore this charming, cozy mystery featuring her majesty at her cleverest. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
The Phone Booth at the Edge of the World, by Laura Imai Messina This wonderful novel of grief and love tells the story of Yui, who lost her mother and daughter in the terrible tsunami of March 2011. She hears about a man who has an old telephone booth in his garden where people find the strength to speak to their departed loved ones. News of the phone booth spreads, and people travel from miles around to the old man’s garden. Yui goes too, but can’t bring herself to speak into the receiver. Instead, she finds Takeshi, whose own daughter has stopped talking in the wake of her mother’s death. A heartbreaking and heartwarming story of healing. Libertie, by Kaitlyn Greenidge Set in Brooklyn during the Civil War and the turbulent times after, the voice of Libertie Sampson describes her unique childhood as the freeborn daughter of a Black, widowed female doctor. Libertie’s mother has aspirations for her daughter to follow her path and join her in her practice. But Libertie, drawn more to music than science, is hungry for something else while constantly being reminded that, unlike her mother who can pass as white, her skin color is darker. Rather than face her mother’s disappointment, she marries a Haitian doctor and leaves the country with him in search of an autonomous life. She finds herself lonelier than ever on the tumultuous island in this immersive and unforgettable literary triumph. NONFICTION Grace & Steel: Dorothy, Barbara, Laura, and the Women of the Bush Dynasty, by J. Randy Taraborrelli No matter the challenges related to power and politics, the women of the Bush dynasty always fought for equality in their marriages as they raised their children to be true to American values. Or, as Barbara Bush put it, “The future of this nation does not depend on what happens in the White House, but what happens in your house.” Taraborelli, the New York Times bestselling author, details the tragedy Barbara faced in burying her 3-yearold daughter, Robin, and her struggle with depression over the decades; the tragic night a teenage Laura Bush accidentally killed a good friend, a story she did not discuss publicly for decades; the affair that almost doomed George H.W.’s hopes for the presidency; and the tense relationship between Nancy Reagan and Barbara Bush that culminated in an angry phone call during which Barbara told Nancy she would never speak to her again — and didn’t. PineStraw
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BOOKSHELF
CHILDREN’S BOOKS Peter Easter Frog, by Erin Dealey Who says bunnies should have all the fun? Hippity Hoppity Pete the Easter . . . frog is here to help out the Bunny any way he can. A fun holiday story of kindness, sharing and friends with a few giggle-inducing surprises along the way. (Ages 2-4.) Home Is in Between, by Mitali Perkins When you are born in one place and raised in another, that’s when you’re in the “in between,” and as hard as it can be to learn a new culture and new rules and, well, new everything, it is quite the gift to be fluent in the language of two places. A fun immigrant story from the viewpoint of a middle-class child learning the ins and outs of being part of a whole new world. (Ages 4-6.) What’s Inside a Flower? by Rachel Ignotofsky Not just your ordinary science book, What’s Inside is the book any budding wildlife biologist would want. Stunning illustrations teach not only parts of a flower, but also jobs flowers have and the way they interact with the world. The perfect book to welcome spring. (Ages 8-12.)
15+ dining options with outdoor seating
Run, walk or bike our downtown Greenway
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Live in The Residences at the Home of the Airborne Special Prince Charles Operations Museum
Monthly horse drawn carriage rides
Public art, murals and landmarks - oh my!
Ground Zero, by Alan Gratz Told from the viewpoint of two teens on opposite sides of the globe, Gratz reframes the 9/11 story for the eyes and ears of young readers. This one is sure to be an instant bestseller. (Age 12 and up.) The Valley and the Flood, by Rebecca Mahoney When Rose’s car breaks down in the unique little desert town of Lotus Valley, Nevada, she feels a strong pull to a place where strange things seem to happen and a surreal prophecy is set to take place. A creative, fresh, and imaginative work of art. (Age 14 and up.) Review by Kaitlyn Rothlisberger. PS Compiled by Kimberly Daniels Taws and Angie Tally. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
VAULT A Pinehurst Resort Retail Location
Vault features a wide selection of apparel, accessories and headwear. 15% Military Discount with ID
132 N.W. BROAD STREET • SOUTHERN PINES
MONDAY – SATURDAY 10 A.M. - 5 P.M. @shop.pinehurst • 910.235.8740
21PNH013.PinestrawRetailJan.indd 1
89 Stoneykirk Drive, Pinewild Country Club, Pinehurst.
Located on 3 acres of privacy is this gorgeous home. Designed by Stagaard and Chao Architects, built in 2006, the home has 7 bedrooms, 3 car garage, office, multi-purpose or school room, craft room, ample storage, pool with spa, elevator, and so much more. The acreage has been transformed into a lovely park-like setting with walking paths and a pond. Must see this one! $1,750,000 Co-listing agent--Taylor Floyd Norbury--910-639-3517
12/10/20 8:49 AM
132 Racquet Lane, Lawn and Tennis, Pinehurst.
3 bedroom, 3 bath, fully renovated, $335,000. Condo has large kitchen that flows into living room with wood flooring, separate den, workshop, 2 car garage, custom cabinetry and crown molding and more.
Peggy Floyd Broker - Realtor 910.639.1197
peggyfloyd77@gmail.com The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Gayle Tzemach Lemmon
IN CONVERSATION WITH KIMBERLY DANIELS TAWS ABOUT
GAYLE TZEMACH LEMMON
photography by Frankie Batista
The Daughters of Kobani FREE WEBINAR registration through The Country Bookshop
THURSDAY, MARCH 4TH AT 6 PM The Daughters of Kobani the story of the most far-reaching experiment in women’s equality in the least likely place in the world. In Northeastern Syria young women have been battling ISIS town by town, street by street since 2013 and served as America’s ground force in the fight to defeat the Islamic State. Gayle Tzemach Lemmon is the author of the New York Times bestsellers Ashley’s War: The Untold Story of a Team of Women Soldiers on the Special Ops Battlefield and The Dressmaker of Khair Khana. Under Gayle’s leadership, Ashley’s War is currently being developed into a major motion picture at Universal with Reece Withspoon as one of the producers. Lemmon is an adjunct senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, spent a decade covering politics at the ABC News Political Unit, got her MBA from Harvard and her journalism from across the world includes Afghanistan, Rwanda, Liberia, Bosnia, and has been published in leading periodicals and newspapers all over the globe. Autographed copies of The Daughters of Kobani, Ashley’s War: The Untold Story of a Team of Women Soldiers on the Special Ops Battlefield and The Dressmaker of Khair Khana are available through The Country Bookshop’s online store.
140 NW Broad Street, Southern Pines, NC 28387 • 910.692.3211
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Event registration at WWW.THECOUNTRYBOOKSHOP.BIZ or TICKETMESANDHILLS.COM
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HOMETOWN
The Best-Laid Plans Or, what I did on my summer vacation
By Bill Fields
It was a good plan. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
The first five semesters of college, I carried a full academic schedule, but as the spring of my junior year at North Carolina approached I decided to take four classes instead of five. I was incoming sports editor of The Daily Tar Heel, a position that would take up a lot of time. Most of the requirements outside my major, journalism, had been met. That semester, when the time came to register for classes in Woollen Gym, I signed up for two courses in J-School and one in the department of Radio, Television and Motion Pictures. I filled out my lightened load with Sociology 95, the Sociology of Sports. For someone who loved sports, thought that sports writing or broadcasting was a likely career path, and had already shown some potential in that field, the sociology course sounded enjoyable and useful. What was not to like about a couple of hours a week studying games and the people who play them? Moreover, Sociology 95 was known around campus as one of UNC-Chapel Hill’s easier classes, its seats populated with scholarship athletes who wore familiar numbers and fraternity boys majoring in keg operations. A student journalist busy putting out five editions of the school paper each week in addition to his studies would fit right in. There were no exams in professor James Wiggins’ course; the only requirement was a term paper explaining a particular sport or team. It seemed right up my alley — I blithely figured to add another A to the handful of top marks I’d earned in two-and-a-half years, along with a bunch of Bs, a few Cs and one D, in calculus. The math grade was no shock. I was in the National Honor Society during high school, but numbers were not my strength. Mrs. White had mercy senior year, passing me when it could have gone the other way and sabotaged my hopes of getting into Chapel Hill. But the Sociology of Sports? I was as confident as Al Wood open in the corner. It was an eventful semester. I made what turned out to be a terrible The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
spring break trip to visit a friend I’d hoped would be more than a friend. I came down with mononucleosis. Soon after regaining my strength, my father passed away after a tough illness. As the term wound down, though, I just knew I could type my way to an A in Sociology 95. I chose a subject I knew well: the Tar Heel men’s basketball team, detailing the dynamics and history of Dean Smith’s program, and handed in the paper on time. In early May, during exam period, on one of those perfect spring days that gives resonance to Chapel Hill being called the “Southern Part of Heaven,” a friend and I played 18 holes at Finley Golf Course. Driving back to my apartment, a well-worn but cheap place down Hillsborough Street, I stopped by campus to find out what I’d made in Sociology 95. There was a box of graded papers on the floor next to Dr. Wiggins’ closed office. The light was dim in the hallway, but it wasn’t too dark to quickly see what was written on the onion-skin page. I got an F in the Sociology of Sports. Wiggins contended that my paper had not met the requirements set forth by the class syllabus, a view that, to my shock, was upheld when I formally appealed the grade. The first and only F of my life stood. My adviser, then the J-School dean, seemed mystified as well. The F kept me from going to commencement at Kenan Stadium with my classmates a year later. I got to participate in a ceremony for journalism graduates at Howell Hall but received a blank sheet of paper instead of a diploma. I got my sheepskin in the mail a couple of months later after going to summer school to get my necessary credits. Taking English and psychology courses, my syllabus for that session called for playing a lot of darts, drinking many beers and spending most afternoons at the Townhouse Apartments pool. I passed with flying colors. PS Southern Pines native Bill Fields, who writes about golf and other things, moved north in 1986 but hasn’t lost his accent. Bill can be reached at williamhfields@gmail.com. PineStraw
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IN THE SPIRIT
New Digs Ammo for my arsenal
By Tony Cross
PHOTOGRAPH BY TONY CROSS
During the
holiday season, I tend to go overboard with gifts and usually spend beyond my means. I’m still getting thank-you notes from Visa. I try to outdo myself every year, and it’s clearly becoming a problem. But I love watching family and friends’ faces when they open their presents and, on the flip side, I do a little shopping for yours truly. Here’s what I splurged on (big and small), and a little something I got in the stocking from a North Carolina distillery. Angostura Cocoa Bitters
After almost 200 years, the House of Angostura released their third bitters. I believe the unveiling happened around August of last year. I remember seeing an ad in a magazine, and thinking, “Oh, (expletive of your choice)!” Angostura’s aromatic bitters has been the standard in the bitters/cocktail world, and their orange bitters is a must (for me, anyhow) when blending a house bitters for cocktails. Simply put, it was kind of a big deal. So I copped a bottle, and yeah, it’s yum.
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
They use cocoa from Tobago and Trinidad, and blend with gentian spices, water and alcohol. Yes, it is bitter, but with a rich chocolate nuttiness. For those of you who are new to cocktails, think of bitters as salt and pepper to your drink. Since it is an Angostura product, you should have no problem finding this. If your local grocer is only carrying the aromatic and/or orange bitters, just ask them to add this to their shelf — it’s really that simple. Pairs great with an old-fashioned, be it with whiskey or rum. I can see this going great with a lovely aged tequila, too. You can also try the cocoa bitters in a Manhattan.
Manhattan 2 ounces rye whiskey 1 ounce sweet vermouth 2-3 dashes Angostura cocoa bitters Orange peel Combine all ingredients in a chilled mixing vessel. Add ice and stir until drink is cold and diluted. Strain into a chilled cocktail coupe. Express oils from an orange peel over the cocktail. Discard peel or add to drink.
Purchase Knob Unaged Corn Whiskey
Elevated Mountain Distilling Co., Maggie Valley, North Carolina This bottle of unaged whiskey (moonshine, white dog . . . whatever you’d like to call it) was gifted to me last Christmas by one of my best friends. He and his wife were vacationing in Waynesville, took a drive out to Maggie Valley, and found Elevated Mountain PineStraw
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
IN THE SPIRIT
Distillery. This corn whiskey is a touch sweet and has only a little bit of heat (a moderate 44 percent ABV). I know I’m going to whip up sours with this whiskey. I’m also going to tinker around with some Collins-style recipes. This is an easy drinker, that’s for sure. From their website, it looks as though Elevated Mountain broke ground in 2017, and they also offer an aged corn whiskey, as well as a small batch, flavored moonshine, and vodka. Elevated Mountain Distillery spirits are available through our local ABC.
El Jolgorio Pechuga Mezcal 2019 This purchase was my ends-justify-themeans moment of clarity after buying gifts for everyone else. If that makes sense. I ordered this online and was excited to try this aged mezcal. I received bottle number 475 of 800 and was delighted when I finally got around to tasting it. First, let’s do a quick recap on Pechuga. Translated as breast in Spanish, it is made when the distilled mezcal is distilled (again) with nuts and local fruits. Then a raw turkey or chicken breast is suspended over the still, which adds to the flavor of the spirit. In the case of this Pechuga, the bottle states: “It is distilled twice in copper stills with seasonal fruits and the breast of a wild turkey native to this region.” On the palate, there is a slight minty/minerality going on; a touch of smoke; a very slight hint of banana. It’s got a bit of heat to it, and I’m hoping time will remedy that. Overall, this mezcal is a delicious sipper and, with a bit of self-discipline, I can make this bottle last the year. I will always recommend Pechuga but know that you’re going to cough up close to $200 a bottle (this one was just under). As always, drink this neat. A lot of the nuances will get lost if you mix this in a cocktail. Just neat. No ice. This particular edition is sold out (where I purchased it online, at least), but don’t fret. With some online searching, I’m sure you can find a bottle somewhere. If not, there are plenty of other beautiful Pechugas on the market. PS Tony Cross is a bartender (well, ex-bartender) who runs cocktail catering company Reverie Cocktails in Southern Pines. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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THE KITCHEN GARDEN
Salad Days Make them last all spring
By Jan Leitschuh
Though our last
frost date is sometime in April, we gardeners want to dig in the damp March dirt — now.
A gardener’s chilled fingers get itchy, imagining that “lamb-like” March exit, oblivious to its rude “lion” start. Those hints of spring wafting our way are intoxicating, and we ordered way too many seeds, of course. Something has to give! The sap is rising. If we can’t install heat lovers like tomatoes, peppers and eggplant till sometime in April — when the cold soil warms and the night temps linger softly in the 50s — what can we plant now? Lettuce. Lettuce resists the cold and is easy to grow, even for those whose garden efforts extend to only a few flower pots or a window box. In fact, those idle porch planters would look mighty spring-like and attractive if you interspersed a few pansies or violas with some colorful lettuce transplants. Besides your front stoop, you’ll have enough fresh leaves to dress up a sandwich. The cheerful Easter-y colors and textures are perfect for spring. Lettuce comes in lime green, speckled, burgundy, dark green, brown, ruffled, wavy, frilly, flat. If you have a patch of good earth, so much the better. You can grow your own fresh, organic salads. Timing is critical. Lettuce gets stressed out in too much heat. It stops growing and lacks good flavor or texture if it’s gotten too hot and stressed. While we often think of vegetables growing faster the hotter it gets, for lettuce the opposite is true. So, get a move on! You can even try seeding a few rows in late February, sowing again in another week or two, a strategy called succession planting. I like to divide a seed packet up into four weekly plantings. In North Carolina, there are only two windows of time, in fall and spring, when natural conditions are ideal for growing these leafy greens. One of the oldest food plants known to man, lettuce was served in ancient Greece, and was popular in ancient Rome. The word “lettuce” comes from the Latin word “lac” meaning “milk,” referring The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
to the bitter milky juice found in mature lettuce stems. When the European explorers sailed to the New World, they brought lettuce seeds. The first Colonial gardens planted on American soil grew lettuce. Now a side salad is ubiquitous; it’s the healthy option at lunch; and in the pre-COVID days, a potluck go-to. And we can raise it in our pots and backyards. Choices include head and loose-leaf lettuce. I’d warn you off head lettuce for spring — the heat roars down on us, making that type of lettuce harder to grow. Have fun choosing from the colorful varieties of loose-leaf lettuce seed. Romaine lettuce can withstand more heat than head lettuce, but will “bolt” or switch to its more bitter reproductive phase as days heat up. Butterhead or buttercrunch is a tender type of lettuce that works well here. Otherwise, the leaf lettuces will stand more brief high temps and have a longer season of production. I plant Black-Seeded Simpson first, since it laughs at the winter cold (but doesn’t care for the heat). Salad Bowl, Slobolt, Grand Rapids, Red Sails, Freckles or Ruby lettuces do well here, among others. Choose an area that gets four to six hours of sun. As it gets hotter in April and May, plants that get morning sun and afternoon shade will last longer and taste better. The heat can turn lettuce bitter, as the milky white sap rises from the stem into the leaves. This bitter on the tongue is actually good for our digestion, stimulating the vagus nerve to “talk” to the gut, but bitter is not a popular flavor in modern life, so take care to cut lettuce first thing in the morning as the season lengthens. The bitterness comes from lettuce’s milky sap, activated by heat. Cutting in the cool of the morning on hotter days mitigates this. The best soils for greens-growing are fertile, high organic matter soils that have good water-holding capacity. Water is important to lettuce, a shallow-rooted plant. For containers, use a lightweight potting mix with included fertilizer. For the garden, spread some compost and rake it in. Lettuce loves a soil a little “sweeter” than Sandhills’ nature provides; the ideal pH is 6.0 to 6.7, so lime might be needed. Because of its relative cold tolerance, even lettuce seedlings can PineStraw
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THE KITCHEN GARDEN
handle a little freezing weather, though a hard frost can turn them to mush. An old sheet tossed on a planting bed on cold nights would not be amiss. Just remember to remove first thing in the morning. With pots, bring them into a garage or breezeway for protection on the coldest nights. If you choose transplants from the garden center, you will have instant gratification and eye appeal. Be sure the transplants have been acclimated, or “hardened off,” and are not right out of the greenhouse. Seeds will give you much more lettuce if you are patient. You can plant as early as February and continue through late March. Seeds are tiny, so plant about 1/4 inch deep. I sow, then sift some fine soil over the top lightly, then pat the seeds in firmly. Water gently to avoid washing away the little seeds. After that, regular watering, especially on warm days, will keep your crop thriving and happy. Lettuce is made up of about 95 percent water, so give an inch or two when the spring monsoons aren’t available. Your seeds will sprout and begin to crowd each other with happy abundance. Do some judicious thinning as your crop grows, and use your fresh and tender thinnings in a salad. Depending on the weather, you’ll have a salad crop in 40 to 60 days. If you were wise and divided your seeds into two or three timed plantings, you’ll have fresh salads all spring. As the days heat up, remember to cut your salad greens in the mornings. Cool the cut leaves in your crisper in a loose plastic bag, unwashed. Rinse just before using. The best way to harvest loose-leaf lettuce is to pick only the outer leaves near the bottom so the plant can keep growing. For romaine or butterhead, cut off the entire head. It’s a genuine pleasure to wander out to the garden in the morning with a cup of coffee and a knife to cut the evening’s salad greens. Whether you choose a plot, a pot or a window box, enjoy the abundance of spring. PS Jan Leitschuh is a local gardener, avid eater of fresh produce and co-founder of Sandhills Farm to Table. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
The Carolina Philharmonic’s 6th Annual
GOLF TOURNAMENT
This year at
PINEWILD’S HOLLY COURSE Monday, March 22, 2021
Proceeds benefit the Music Education Programs of The Carolina Philharmonic, serving 3,500 local children annually.
Designed by golf’s legendary Gary Player, the recently renovated Holly is as picturesque as it is fun to play. For additional information call
The Carolina Philharmonic Box Office
910.687.0287
www.carolinaphil.org
FULL FIELD: 100 (25 TEAMS)
$150 $540 PER PLAYER PER TEAM
Entry fee includes: Continental Breakfast, Box Lunch Start: 9:30 AM Shotgun
Mark your calendars for The Carolina Philharmonic’s
LIVESTREAMS AT BPAC Friday, March 19, 7:30pm: Beethoven Poet Saturday, April 3, 7:30pm: Easter Eve Celebration Sunday, May 16, 7:30pm: Broadway Baby
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Tune in at www.carolinaphil.org
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
T H E C R E AT O R S O F N. C .
Welcome Home
How Amarra Ghani became a guiding light for those in need
By Wiley Cash Photographs by Mallory Cash
Amarra Ghani
has continually found herself in two roles that are surprisingly in concert with one another: caregiver and outsider. These two roles go hand-in-hand more than one would think. Often, outsiders come from a perspective that allows them to assess the needs of others with fresh eyes, and caregivers tend to take on singular roles that set them apart.
“I’ve always felt different,” Ghani, the founder of Welcome Home in Charlotte, says. “The color of my skin, my name.” After 9/11, these feelings intensified for Ghani, a practicing Muslim whose parents are Pakistani immigrants. “I felt super-ostracized,” she says, despite growing up in ethnically and culturally diverse cities in New York and New Jersey. “People would say hurtful things to me because of what I looked like or how I grew up.” Ghani’s feelings of being an outsider intensified when her family moved to Charlotte halfway through her senior year of high school. Feeling alone, Ghani, who was not raised in a religious family, began to lean on her faith. “I was isolated from everyone,” she says. “I fell in love with Islam because it was comforting for me. I was praying more. I was reading the Koran and I felt like God was my only friend.” After high school, Ghani attended community college in Charlotte before transferring to the University of North CarolinaAsheville, where she founded the Muslim Student Association in hopes that other practicing Muslims would not feel as alone as she once had. “That’s where I found my voice,” she says. After college, she
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
moved to Washington, D.C., to work for the U.S. Department of Agriculture, and later as a production assistant at NPR. Ghani was living out her career dreams, but was called home to Charlotte in 2016 after her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She became her mother’s caregiver. She didn’t stop there. While throwing a “friendsgiving” celebration that year, Ghani encouraged her friends to bring warm winter clothes that she could donate to people in need. She learned that a friend’s mother — a native of Afghanistan who’d been living in Charlotte for 40 years — was gathering clothes for local refugees. When Ghani took her friendsgiving haul to the woman’s house, she asked her what else local refugees needed. She was surprised to learn that most of them needed the basic necessities like utensils, towels and bedding. She told her that she would put out a call on social media, which she had regularly used to make connections during her work in D.C. The response was overwhelming; soon, her parents’ garage was full of donated materials, from used clothing to brand new items to gift certificates. “Once I started, it just kept growing,” she says. When the pool of donors and volunteers swelled from 30 people to over 250, Ghani realized that she needed a better platform, so she set up a WhatsApp group called “Welcome Home.” This seemed like an appropriate name for a group dedicated to welcoming refugees as they bridge the gap between the struggles in their old lives and the challenges of the new. While working full-time with Wells Fargo, Ghani set about turning Welcome Home into a functioning organization, complete with a board of directors. Once things became official, the first phase of the organization’s work was to meet the basic needs of the refugee comPineStraw
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T H E C R E AT O R S O F N. C .
munity by furnishing apartments, for example, or taking people on grocery store visits and other errands where assistance was needed. The second phase of operations focused on sustainability, and the organization forged ahead with programs in English language education and services that pair refugees with translators who can accompany them on doctor visits and other appointments where language may be a barrier. Ghani knows these difficulties firsthand. “English is my second language because my parents would not talk to me in English,” she says. “As the child of immigrants, there’s a time when you become your parents’ parent. I was 11 when I started helping my dad with forms or going to the doctor with them or going to parent-teacher conferences to translate.” What a difference an organization like Welcome Home would have made in the life of her family: “I wish someone had guided my parents,” she says. “My dad could’ve had less pressure on him.” And how were they to know such resources existed? “When you’re someone who doesn’t speak the language and you’ve just arrived and don’t know the community around you, you need someone to guide you. That is what drives me.” Welcome Home started out with 21 families, and they all eventually graduated from the program, no longer in need of assistance. “We have families who come here and who don’t know English or how to drive and perhaps have a fourth grade education,” Ghani says. Not only are they learning how to survive in a world that feels so foreign, she continues, but they are learning how to thrive. “We have three families who have been able to purchase houses in the last year,” she says. They were able to raise money to cover the rent for another family where the wife was diagnosed with breast cancer. “Earlier this year, we learned that this family was able to buy a house as well.” But Ghani also recognizes the hesitancy many people have about seeking help, which is why Welcome Home plays such an important role in the lives of refugees from places like Syria, Afghanistan and Myanmar. While many refugee organizations are missionary in nature, Welcome Home is not. Still, Ghani cannot deny the comfort
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families find in working with an organization largely comprised of people who share the refugees’ religious faith, culture and worldview. “It makes a difference in small ways and big ways,” she says. “For example, during Thanksgiving, our families know that we can provide Halal turkeys. That establishes a level of trust.” Now, perhaps more than ever, trust is paramount as refugees settle into a new community during the coronavirus pandemic. As the virus takes its toll in communities across the state, Welcome Home finds itself back in their first phase, meeting the basic needs of their families. “It’s all about necessities and fundraising to cover bills,” Ghani says. It’s also about keeping families safe from the virus itself. In mid-February, Welcome Home partnered with the city of Charlotte and the Mecklenburg Department of Health Services to provide vaccinations. “They reached out to us because of the skepticism of the vaccine in refugee and immigrant communities. We’re bridging that gap and bringing familiarity to the process of getting vaccinated,” Ghani says. Through it all, Ghani, who last month was awarded UNCAsheville’s Francine Delany Award for Service to the Community, maintains that she is driven by her faith, as well as by the memories she has of being an outsider and her most recent calling to care for those in need. “What did I do to deserve the life that I have?” she asks. “Nothing. I was just born into this family and this faith and this atmosphere. Others aren’t so lucky.” When she works with refugee families, assisting them with everything from getting clothes to learning English, she can’t help seeing a bit of herself in their struggle. “I know where they’re coming from,” she says, “I’ve been in that place.” No matter the place where members of Charlotte’s refugee community find themselves, Amarra Ghani wants to make certain they get home. PS Wiley Cash is the writer-in-residence at the University of North Carolina-Asheville. His new novel, When Ghosts Come Home, will be released this year. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
OUT OF THE BLUE
Matinee Idyll
A screen shot from the good ol’ days By Deborah Salomon
I miss the movies. Not art films,
or chick flicks, or computer-generated blockbusters. Certainly not superheroes or chatty corpses. Just an engrossing story played out over two hours.
Movies represented a simple but profound part of my childhood, teens, parenting, grandparenting and old age. Here’s how. Growing up in a New York City apartment before TV and without siblings could, Mary Poppins notwithstanding, be boring. I pounced on Life magazine each week, hoping for a new Disney film ad. My mother objected but usually relented. Yet she exposed me, barely 10, to Laurence Olivier’s Hamlet. Amazing how easy Shakespeare goes down on screen. Sir Larry became my first movie-star crush (obligatory for little girls in the late ’40s), followed by Gregory Peck, after Gentleman’s Agreement. Redford, Cruise and Clooney melted down and reassembled as Brad Pitt couldn’t hold a candle to either. The situation was different in Asheville. I was 12, plenty old enough to sit through Singin’ in the Rain and a parade of other silly musicals with friends at the lavish Art Deco Imperial Theater. Admission: 9 cents. One mother would drop us off, another pick us up. To my everlasting embarrassment, Mario Lanza — The Great Caruso — replaced Olivier and Peck. The upside: By 13 I felt comfortable with Shakespeare and Verdi. Soon, local fellas with hot-off-the-press driver’s licenses usurped Mario and the Bard. Movie dates were the thing. I can’t remember a single movie . . . maybe Sabrina and the original A Star is Born . . . only being panicked he’d try to hold my hand, now greasy from popcorn. At least we were spared nudity and expletives. I drew the line at Westerns, war and horror flicks which, compared to current offerings, look like Looney Tunes. The early ’60s found me busy with three babies and James Bond — a new installment released almost every January, for my birthday. What better gift than a babysitter, steakhouse dinner and 007? When Sean Connery departed, so did I. Some things, like the scent of roses and fresh-squeezed orange juice, can’t be synthesized. Neither can “Bond . . . James Bond” in a low growl. The babies grew up. I was the only mom on a block of 10 children that had a station wagon big as the Hindenburg plus the patience to herd/referee. Their pestering started as soon as a cartoon feature opened. Lessons learned: “Sugar high” is serious science. And no two kids ever have to pee at the same time. Watching the first 3D (House of Wax) and IMAX reminded me of the “What have they done to my song?” lament. What have they done to plots and acting? Whither movie dates, Photoplay magazine, musicals, The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
James Dean in Cinemascope and Marlon Brando in black-and-white? Time passed. Films adapted. Rainy Saturday afternoons were spent with my grandsons at the multiplex, a phantasmagoria of arcade machines that swallowed dollars like Jujubes. The movies I endured there had no plots, no acting, only special effects. When the boys were pre-teens, out of desperation I took them to The Blind Side, where they sat, rapt and wide-eyed. “That was a really good movie, Nanny,” the older one said. Now an attorney, he still remembers it. During the pandemic some releases go straight to streaming, to be watched “in the comfort of your home,” where interruptions happen. The sound of the toilet flushing breaks the spell. Marie Osmond interrupting Daniel Day Lewis is blasphemy. Therefore, I watch faves only on commercial-free channels. So, which have survived? The envelopes, please: Best performance by an actor . . . ever: Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote. By an actress: Meryl Streep: Sophie’s Choice. Best chick-flicks: Bridges of Madison County, (sob) and The American President (yay!). Best musical: Timeless, happy-sad, plot-intensive Fiddler on the Roof. Best feel-good: The King’s Speech, where in my scrapbook Colin Firth replaces Olivier, Lanza and Peck. Best all-round movie; The Godfather, but only the first installment and the prequel from Part II. I know the script by heart. And I always add a little sugar and a splash of wine to my spaghetti sauce. Runners-up: The Shawshank Redemption, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, The Help, Philadelphia. Most Overrated: Titanic, aka Gone with the Wind gone to sea. Obviously, movies need some technology/methodology, which limits Citizen Kane, City Lights and Casablanca — all fine period pieces. But when the lights go down and the corn pops up I want to be transported, entranced, disturbed, inspired and even challenged. Crying is a good sign. Snoozing is not. Private Ryan — out. Oskar Schindler — in. Sean Connery, dead, never to be replaced by nice guy Tom Hanks. The last satisfying movie I sat through was Doubt (2008) starring, no surprise, Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman; Viola Davis copped Academy Award and Golden Globe nominations for 10 minutes onscreen. So there’s hope, I hope. PS Deborah Salomon is a contributing writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She may be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com. PineStraw
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
P L E A S U R E S O F L I F E D E P T.
How I Learned to Skate By Nancy Roy Fiorillo
One night not too long ago, I dreamed
I was roller skating. The rink was big, and I was all alone except for my dad. He was standing at the railing. I tried a difficult jump and fell, not once but three times. Then my dad said, “Hold your head up — that will help you keep your balance.” I tried again and mastered the jump. It was a dream that came from long ago, before I really grew up, before high school and boyfriends and life. I grew up in a small town in New England. Famous for the manufacture of Frye Boots, Marlborough was an unremarkable haven for first generation immigrants — French, Italian, Irish, Greek and more. I was third-generation French Canadien, my antecedents hailing from Prince Edward Island and Toronto. My parents met at a St. Mary’s Catholic Church youth group and later dated as the King and Queen of the Mardi Gras. I was told the priest attended the crowning of the “royalty,” but the dancing could start only after he made his exit. Our modest two-bedroom house sat on 12 acres with enough room for two parents, one sister, batches and batches of kittens and me. My paternal grandfather lived two houses away, and both he and my dad raised chickens. Often I accompanied my dad to the chicken coop to feed the squawking birds, eagerly plunging both of my hands down into the mash we mixed for their dinner, and more often than not coming up with nothing much more than an itchy nose. Dad always kept one hand out of the feed, free to scratch my little nose for me. Receiving the fluffy, yellow chicks we called peepers and putting them in the little room with the bright warming light was a cozy act of faith. On Saturdays my dad was the egg man, and I rode the route with him. His regular job was at a General Electric facility called Telecron. When I asked him what he did, he told me he put faces on clocks. And indeed he did, on an assembly line. My sister and I walked to school and back. Summertime was a
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
flight of imagination in the large woods behind our house. We buddied up with a couple of kids from across the street and built a bike trail, including jumps. One summer we put together a three-room house with bundling sticks and string. We discovered a pond that we named Crystal Lake and told imaginary stories about who drowned there and who drew their drinking water from this little muddy lagoon. We built a 9-hole cement miniature golf course complete with twists and turns and waterfalls. The architect was the boy across the street (who would become an engineer), and we were his crew. We dug holes, moved rocks, poured cement and cleared paths. We made sandwich signs for our bikes and rode all over town advertising a round of miniature golf, 5 cents. We made enough money that summer to go to the finest amusement park in New England — my dad drove four of us as if he were delivering eggs and we stayed all day. In the winter we’d sling our ice skates over our shoulders and walk to Lake Williams, as frozen as the concrete we poured. We changed into our skates near the warmth of the burn barrel and stayed on the ice until we couldn’t feel our feet, then returned to the barrel to change into our frozen boots and head home. Just before fourth grade we found out I needed allergy shots and special shoes. My mother was offered the entire vial of medicine for $85, or we could pay $5 per shot. She took the installment plan and then declared she would be going to work at a factory in Sudbury. My sister and I left public school to attend St. Anne’s Academy adjacent to our church. The academy was both a school and a novitiate, run by the Sisters of St. Anne. Most of the students were boarders, and my sister and I joined the ranks of the day students. School started at 8 a.m. and ended at 5 p.m. We had a half day of French and religion and the other half of the day was for everything else our nuns knew. We diagrammed sentences ad nauseam but learned little history, geography or science. To fill the full day we had 2 1/2 hours for lunch, time used in the winter for skating on Lake Williams, a group of wobbly young girls led by penguins on ice. Our nuns were strict and unyielding, but they could skate like Boston Bruins, gliding along PineStraw
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with their hands behind their backs. My dad eventually closed down the egg business and, with help, dismantled the chicken coop. I remember them removing the baby chick room, then pulling off sides of the troughs. The roof was still standing when they pulled up the floor. Underneath was beautiful hardwood, perfect for roller skating. Our neighborhood engineer was no skater, so he rigged up a bowling alley, too. One day after watching us, my dad announced that we were good enough skaters to go to the real roller rink, named Lyonhurst, up on the hill above Lake Williams. In earlier days the Big Bands, even some famous ones, performed there. When the music died out, a couple bought it and turned it into a skating rink with smooth flooring, organ music, dances and games. My first Saturday afternoon was pretty scary, but Dad stayed close by leaning against the rail to give me confidence. The rented skates were big and heavy on my skinny legs, and I didn’t have a skating skirt like most of the older girls, but I rolled on, weekend after weekend. Soon my dad presented me with a used pair of excellent skates — Douglass-Snyder’s — with toe stops. My mom knitted skating skirts for me and bought the panties that go underneath. I took lessons and became a real skater. I won some games and learned some jumps and danced, going over the steps before I slept just to make sure I knew every single one. Then it happened. I woke one Saturday morning to the news that Lyonhurst, my skating rink, had burned to the ground during the night. I was heartbroken! Other skating rinks were too far away to even think about. We still ice skated on Lake Williams when it froze over in the winter, but as we grew older, the woods held no interest for us. Our backyard rink was gone and high school was ahead. I was forced to give up my skating and learn to do more grown-up things. But sometimes, even now, I dream about mastering a jump with someone standing against the rail with a free hand. PS Nancy Roy Fiorillo, a former mayor of Pinehurst, loves reading and occasionally a little writing. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
C H A R AC T E R S T U DY
Of Palettes and Perps From landscapes to wanted posters
By Jenna Biter
Walk up a narrow flight of stairs and
hang a left into the corner studio above Eye Candy Gallery & Framing in downtown Southern Pines and you’ll find Pat McBride. Wearing a crisp white shirt that — if you know any artist — has obviously not yet seen the business end of a paint brush, she waves and introduces herself with an upbeat hello. She’s surrounded by a dozen paintings, ranging in size from a few inches to a few feet.
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
“I always liked art, but I hadn’t really thought of being an ‘artist-artist,’” she says. That was until she refused to take no for an answer in a class at Indiana University of Pennsylvania. “I took art as one of my electives and, on the first day of class, the professor said, ‘OK, if there’s anybody in here with any other majors, this is a class for art majors. You just need to let me know and get out now.’” She backtracks. “Well . . . first, he said to put up your hand. Of course, I, being ornery, did not, but everybody else did and politely marched out . . . you’re not kicking me out of this class.” She relives the memory, shrugs her shoulders, smiles. “Anyway, I took the class and ended up becoming an art major.” She got her undergraduate degree in fine art and has been at it ever since. McBride points at her large painting of the Carolina Hotel. “Right now, I’m working in oils.” She used to work mostly in acrylics and pencils, detailing people. But a class in oil painting PineStraw
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C H A R AC T E R S T U DY
inspired her to take up the medium, and the historical architecture and unique sporting events of the Sandhills have captured her imagination. “Everything is kind of fun because everything is kind of . . . new,” she says, though she and her husband, Larry, moved to the area over three years ago. “When we moved here, our house needed so much work that we didn’t really get to do a lot.” Before coming to the Sandhills, McBride and her family lived in Greensboro for 15 years and, before that, they lived in a halfdozen other places, including Buffalo, New York, and Annapolis, Maryland. Larry worked as a special agent for the FBI, so the family was packed up and moving every two years. At least, that’s how it was at the beginning. McBride kept up with her art regardless of where they lived. “I was working in frame shops so that I could be around art and afford to get my stuff framed.” She showed her artwork in galleries and continues to do that in Eye Candy just below her studio and It’s Art for Art Sake in Pinehurst. In the spring of 1984, however, McBride’s most prolific work hung not in a gallery but in post offices and malls across the United States. It was the wanted poster of Christopher Bernard Wilder, better known by the epithet the Beauty Queen Killer. It was McBride’s husband who, in the early 1980s, recommended she apply for an opening as an illustrator in the special projects division of the FBI. She geared her portfolio toward the job and got
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
C H A R AC T E R S T U DY
the position. “There were craftsmen who were woodworkers; there were photographers; there were graphic artists,” she says. “The craftsmen would create, like, a golf club that had a microphone in it. Of course, the photographers were photographing different things and crime scenes — stuff for courtroom presentations. And the graphic artists were for in-house publications. “I did illustration,” she continues, “and they also trained me to do photo retouching.” In the pre-Photoshop days, McBride retouched photos by hand with what looks like a single- or doublehaired paint brush, opaque watercolors (gouache) and her imagination. She reworked photos of at-large criminals, imagining potential changes in their appearance for wanted posters. “It was just what I thought they might look like,” she says. “There wasn’t really a lot of science to it. “When they brought this one to me, it was going to be a standard poster . . . dah, dah, dah. But then, they’re bringing in photos of all these beautiful young girls. And every day they’re bringing them in, and they’re preparing for a press conference. They’d go marching past my desk with these giant photos.” The Australian-born serial killer lived in Florida and had a dark past rife with sexual assault and rape allegations. But he was also a successful real estate investor who drove race cars and lived fast. Wilder would lure away unsuspecting teenage girls and young women by hanging around malls, pretending to be a photographer looking for young models. “For whatever reason, probably because
he was successful, probably because he didn’t look the part of a monster, he got away with it,” she says. In the spring of 1984 Wilder went on a cross-country killing spree and murdered at least eight women. He catapulted to the top of America’s most wanted list and, ultimately, shot and killed himself on April 13 when two police officers approached him at a gas station just miles from the Canadian border in New Hampshire. “Apparently, he usually had a beard and a mustache,” McBride remembers, “but he was on this crazy spree, and they heard word he might have shaved — nobody had a photo of what he looked like prior to a beard.” It was her task to overpaint the serial killer’s photo and reimagine him without a beard. “At the time, I thought, ‘Man, if I never do anything again, this was probably the most important thing I ever did,’” she says. “He actually was clean-shaven when he died, but I never saw pictures. I asked the agents afterward how close I came, but there’s no way I could really know.” McBride Googled Wilder nearly 40 years post mortem and discovered an Australian TV special that flashed previously unseen photos of the killer clean-shaven. “I went ekkkkk!” she said, in a mixture of accomplishment and disgust, “because it came out looking correct.” PS Jenna Biter is a writer, entrepreneur and military wife in the Sandhills. She can be reached at jenna.biter@gmail.com.
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
B I R D WA T C H
Hardy Hummers Rufous hummingbirds are midwinter guests
By Susan Campbell
It may sound
PHOTOGRAPH BY MARK SHIELDS
odd, but this is a good time to talk about hummingbirds. I have been fielding reports of these tiny, winged jewels for weeks. So far, I have banded 17 and have details on almost 100 more — and counting! Yes, even in the middle of the winter.
Here in North Carolina, hummingbird lovers can find or attract these amazing little fliers any month of the year. And this winter has been a particularly productive season for hardy hummers across the state. Predictably, the bulk of the hummingbirds I have encountered in the Piedmont have been rufous hummingbirds. Annually, shorter days and cooler temperatures herald the return of rufous hummingbirds from points far to our north and west. The species breeds from the Rocky Mountains up into southern Canada and across to southeastern Alaska. They begin nesting when there is still snow on the ground and vegetation is sparse. In the cooler months, the majority of rufous can be found wintering in southern Mexico. However, it has been discovered in the last few decades that a wintering population exists in the southeastern United States. Across North Carolina, dozens of rufous take up residence between October and April. Many go unnoticed unless they appear at late-blooming plants or sugar water feeders. These are extremely tough little critters. These tiny birds that spend their summers at high latitudes are well adapted to cold weather. They can forage in below-freezing temperatures, searching thick vegetation for insects with little difficulty. At night and during colder, wet periods, they will seek out thick evergreen cover and use torpor, a nighttime hibernation, to conserve energy. The pines, cedars, hollies and magnolias in central North Carolina make excellent winter habitat for rufous hummingbirds. The male rufous is very distinctive, having rusty body feathers in addition to a coppery iridescent gorget. Females, however, are a different story. Their size and shape are not very distinctive. Aside
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
from reddish-brown color at the base of their tail feathers, and perhaps a smattering of brownish feathers around the face and flanks, they appear much like immature male rubythroateds. They also look very similar to a few other species of Western hummers such as the Allen’s, broad-tailed or calliope hummingbird. For those with a good musical ear, the vocalization — a loud series of “stick” notes — may give a rufous away. It is interesting to note that some of these tiny marvels return to the same feeder from one winter to the next. In fact, some individuals are faithful to the same location over their lifetime, which can be seven years. To date, we have had three females that have done just that, proven by the tiny aluminum bands I placed on their legs the first year. Some individuals choose to overwinter in different locations in the Southeast. This year we have two “foreigners.” One of them was originally banded by a colleague of mine outside Mobile, Alabama, two winters ago. Furthermore, there have been some extremely lucky folks, including hosts in both the Sandhills and the Triad, who have hosted not one, but multiple rufous over the course of a single season. Last November, both a hostess in Asheville and another at Riverbend County Park outside Hickory each had three female rufous coming in for sugar water. A friend and research colleague who runs that park is investigating a fourth female rufous who turned up on February 1. And no need to worry: Winter sugar water feeder maintenance is straightforward. Hang it in an open location and simply rinse and refill every two weeks or so. In our area, a feeder hung close to the house will be protected most days and many of the nights. The regular solution (4 parts water; 1 part sugar) will not freeze unless the air temperature drops below 27 degrees. So, go ahead and hang a feeder any time. It is absolutely never too late to get noticed. Who knows? It may be found by a passing rufous hummingbird or two. PS Susan would love to receive your wildlife observations and/or photos at susan@ncaves.com. PineStraw
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SPORTING LIFE
Escape to the Woods Even if it’s all in your mind
“Fishing doesn’t actually happen. It just goes on in your head.” — Robert Ruark, The Old Man’s Boy Grows Older By Tom Bryant
Good night, nurse, it was
cold! I had been working on the little Airstream in preparation for our annual fishing trip down South and was taking a break in the Roost, the apartment above our garage where I do most of my writing and heavy thinking; that is, if I have any heavy thinking to do. It had been a crazy year, what with the pandemic and other happenings that didn’t sit well with this good old boy.
I was kicked back in my desk chair, thawing out numb fingers, thinking about the last several months of 2020 and how glad most of us were to see that miserable year plowed into the history books. I had spent a lot of time in the woods, supposedly hunting, but in reality, escaping cabin fever. North Carolina had been locked down, hiding from the virus, and the woods were my breakout mechanism. If I had to rely on the game harvested during those ventures afield to feed Linda my bride and me, we would be starved down to the bone by now. A couple of friends and I closed out duck season with a canvasback hunt up in the northeastern section of the state. It was a dud. No ducks. Pretty scenery, though, and also a welcome break from all the political angst and health concerns generated during the last months of the year. If nothing else, the past year gave me plenty of time to reflect on bygone successful hunting and fishing trips. Ruark could have added “hunting” to his old man’s quote. It also doesn’t really happen; it goes on in your head, too. While sitting in the blind on that unsuccessful canvasback chase, the three of us reminisced about wonderful hunts when the ducks were plentiful, we were younger, and life seemed to be so much simpler. If
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laughter is a cure-all, as many doctors seem to think, the three of us came away from that hunt without a single duck, but a lot healthier. Our recent fruitless sojourn and the memories of adventures in the field hunting and fishing were a welcome balm for the miseries of the past year. And as I warmed in the roost, I reflected on how fortunate I am to have lived the life I have during a very special time. Growing up in the little village of Pinebluff where all a youngster needed was a bicycle and a dog was, in a word and in retrospect, wonderful. It was pre-TV and the small borders of our community, which we determined by how far we could ride our bikes in a day, was our world. World War II was over, the country was settling down for a period of stability and prosperity, and the good times were not lost on my friend Maurice Pickler and me. Maurice and I were in the fourth grade at Aberdeen Elementary, and we spent many hours roaming the woods and wild areas surrounding our small village. We built a camp in the far reaches of his backyard that, in our minds, rivaled that of Jim Bridger, the mountain man we read about in our history books. We constructed tables out of lengths of trimmed pine branches and a fire pit and oven from scrounged bricks we found on many excursions in the neighborhood. We camped almost every weekend while school was in session and during that summer whenever we could. Maurice and I remained close friends until he and his family moved to Wilmington. Sadly, he died from cancer early in his life, but our adventures when we were very young remain some of my fondest memories. There is an ancient bait-casting rod and reel propped in the corner behind my desk, and it is remarkably like the one my granddad gave me one summer I spent on the farm in South Carolina. He had a rustic cabin right on the banks of the Little Pee Dee River, and whenever farm chores slowed, we would head to the fish camp. Those were idyllic days spent fishing from his river skiff or on the banks of the slow-moving black waterway. One lazy afternoon right after he somewhat formally presented me the gift of the rod and reel, he said, “Son, this little fishing pole is made by South Bend and will serve you for many years if you take care of it. Come on, let’s put ’er to use.” We loaded the river skiff and were off for an afternoon of laid-back fishing. Our plan was simple. We would motor up the river for several The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
SPORTING LIFE
miles, then slowly drift/fish back toward the cabin. Nothing very complicated, but we caught fish. Mostly big fat red breast, but every now and then a catfish, and on rare occasions when we ventured off the fast-moving river to a shallow tributary lake, a bass or two. The bass were cause for celebration; and most of the time, we released them because Granddad said they were rare on the river and needed time to reproduce. Unfortunately, that special South Bend rod and reel was lost as I moved about during the teen years and on to college. My interest was elsewhere: sports, mostly baseball and football, cars, and girls. Needless to say, I was preoccupied, and fishing took a back burner. Shortly after Linda became my bride, we were browsing in a dilapidated antique store that was way off the beaten path. The old place was located in South Port, close to Long Beach, now known as Oak Island, where we were spending part of our summer vacation. I had been surf fishing without any luck, and we decided to visit the little village that was right on the Cape Fear River and the location where Robert Ruark, one of my most liked outdoor authors, enjoyed time with his grandfather. As we were leaving the store, I glanced in the corner and saw a rod and reel leaning against an old bureau. The time-worn furniture almost hid the fishing rod, but when I pulled it out of its resting place, I saw it was almost exactly like the one Granddad had given me so many years ago. The ancient fishing pole now resides permanently in the corner behind my desk along with a spinning outfit that belonged to my father. My desk is located right in front of a window of the Roost, and during the dead of winter when I’m watching frosty Mother Nature in all her glory and hunting season is over and fishing is a while away, all I have to do is glance at those two pieces of antiquated equipment and I’m off on some river or lake or coastal waters, fishing somewhere. Ruark was right when he heard the Old Man say, “Fishing doesn’t actually happen. It just goes on in your head.” PS
Tom Bryant, a Southern Pines resident, is a lifelong outdoorsman and PineStraw’s Sporting Life columnist. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L
Story Time
Classic voices and classic memories By Lee Pace
I was merely a
babe in the pines in 1990 when the powers that be at Pinehurst Inc. put their historic life in my hands. Why anyone would entrust the concept and execution of a coffee table book on what then was a 95-year-old golf club and resort to the hands of a 33-year-old is beyond me. To write about history, you need a little history yourself, right?
“We were figuring it out as we went along,” says Pat Corso, the man who commissioned that book as part of the club’s branding and campaign to land a major championship on Pinehurst No. 2 — a U.S. Open, PGA Championship or Ryder Cup chief among the targets. Corso, the president and CEO of the resort, was himself not quite 40 at the time. And he needed that youthful vigor. In 1990 Pinehurst was in year six of being owned by Robert Dedman Sr. and his Dallas-based company, Club Corporation of America, as it was known at the time. Old-timers today forget the degree of problems Dedman inherited, and newbies don’t even know about them. But the grand old resort that has now been the venue for three U.S. Opens since 1999 and is on the docket for five more was gasping for breath in 1984 after two years being run by a consortium of banks holding the bad paper from the previous owner, the Diamondhead Corp. “Remember that no one wanted this place,” said Corso, who ran the resort from 1987-2004. “The banks brought every big company in the golf and hospitality business through here and everyone went thumbs-down. They thought it was gone. Literally, the place had died. Now, not all the citizens would agree with that. But to a lot of people inside the game and outside, Pinehurst was dead. It was unredeemable. The banks were going to sell off the golf to someone and the hotel to someone else. They made Robert buy the hotel. He just wanted the golf. But marrying the golf to the hotel kept the whole thing alive. Otherwise, you’d have five or six owners and it would
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have been a free-for-all.” Corso and his chief lieutenant, Director of Golf Don Padgett Sr., were diligently trying in the late 1980s to restore the good name Pinehurst enjoyed in the golf universe for 75 years under the founding Tufts family. Staging the U.S. Women’s Amateur in 1989 on No. 2 was one step. Now they wanted the PGA Tour or a men’s USGA championship. And they wanted to remind the current generation and make them aware of what those before had known of “the St. Andrews of American golf.” So off I went in October 1990 with exactly one year to write, design and print a book with factual and aesthetic substance for Corso and resort officials to hand to golf’s power brokers, competitors, talking heads and ink-stained scribes and say, “This is our story. This is who we are.” I was rummaging through the files at the Tufts Archives in the village of Pinehurst just as I was getting started when I found Ben Hogan’s file and learned he won his first professional tournament in Pinehurst in 1940, that he teetered on quitting competitive golf altogether after eight fallow years on tour, and that the injection of confidence and swagger he found in the North and South Open on Pinehurst No. 2 catapulted him to one of golf’s most storied careers. What about, I mused, a book built around the stories of noted individuals in golf and their experiences at Pinehurst? The dominoes started to fall, and I set about making arrangements over the next six months to visit some very high-profile golfers who had a good Pinehurst story. Now, exactly three decades later, the images of those visits bound past like 35 mm slides in a vintage carousel projector: Hogan, the “wee ice mon” himself, sitting nattily attired in a seersucker sports coat in his office in Fort Worth, reflecting on that landmark win half a century before; Ben Crenshaw the very next day in the grill at Barton Creek in Austin remembering his second PGA Tour event, that 144-hole colossus known as the World Open played on the No. 2 and 4 courses in November 1973 and his second-place finish to Miller Barber; Bill Campbell having lunch at a meat-and-three diner across the street from his insurance office in Huntington, West Virginia, words like “salutary” and “winsome” rolling from his tongue as he talked of PineStraw
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G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L
his annual April visit to Pinehurst for the North and South Amateur; Sam Snead rubbing the head of his golden retriever, Meister, sitting in his living room in Fort Pierce, Florida, ruminating on his three victories in the North and South Open and how he thought the short par-4 third hole on No. 2 “was one of the nicest little holes;” Frank Stranahan appearing in workout togs drinking a vitaminlaced smoothie in the lobby of The Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach, recounting stroke-by-stroke his North and South Amateur finals matches with Harvie Ward in 1948-49; Harvie Ward himself with that ever-present twinkle in the eye sitting on the porch of the Carolina Hotel in Pinehurst, having returned home to North Carolina in the twilight of his life and admitting it was a little embarrassing the ruckus his Chapel Hill fraternity brothers made in the gallery of those matches with Stranahan, which they split with one championship apiece; Arnold Palmer and his vice-like handshake and welcoming demeanor in his office at Bay Hill in Orlando and a self-deprecating story about Stranahan dusting his rear end 12 and 11 in the 1949 North and South Amateur and then offering to give Arnie a lesson on bunker play; Curtis Strange walking a fairway during a practice round at Doral and talking about all his visits to Pinehurst while on the Wake Forest golf team and how caddie Fletcher Gaines helped manage him around the course in winning the 1975-76 North and South Amateurs; Golf architect Pete Dye rambling into the wee hours at Kiawah
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Island during Ocean Course construction and speaking of how the tenets of Donald Ross were never far from his mind on every course design project; Billy Joe Patton pausing from a conversation at his home in Morganton to leave the room and compose himself, the memories of his salad days in Pinehurst in the 1950s and ’60s with his favorite caddie, Jerry Boggan, washing over him. And those were just the highlights. I assembled the fruit of these conversations with essays commissioned from golf writing heavyweights Charles Price, Dick Taylor and Herbert Warren Wind, and the result was Pinehurst Stories — A Celebration of Great Golf and Good Times. I know for a fact the book didn’t make any money, but that wasn’t the goal. Two years later the USGA did, in fact, award Pinehurst the 1999 U.S. Open, and the dominoes have been falling ever since. Not that one caused the other, mind you, but perhaps it factored into the mix. Thirty years. Roll that around in your mind. I’ve been chasing another assignment like that for three decades to no avail and with a keen appreciation for the old saw, “Youth is wasted on the young.” PS Lee Pace has made countless drives from his home in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, to the Sandhills 70 miles away to chronicle the Pinehurst story, which includes four books, most recently the 2014 volume, The Golden Age of Pinehurst.
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We’re brewing GREAT BEER and smokin’ some of the BEST BARBECUE you’ll find anywhere. C O M E S E E U S I N T H E H I S T O R I C S T E A M P L A N T.
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March ���� Pairing Mantids He has only one job to do. And she, with her hunger, her need to feed the future without him by consuming him, has a lot to get done before winter. His head tilts slightly, like a sinner at communion, like a teen expecting his first kiss to be like lightning. Then his body starts to do the work it was built to do. She turns toward him and wipes off his face. He knows it’s all over, but his body keeps on, unknowing itself. His is the kind of stupid happiness you can only appreciate at a distance, the kind you know cannot be as good as it looks. Hers is the work of duty and a different devotion. While he takes her from behind, she takes him head first just like she took a yellow striped hornet who would have taken her to his own hideaway, just as she took the grasshopper who was tired of summer, as she took the large green moth who had no mouth of its own. She ignored those magnificent wings — just let them fall — as she ignores the thrusting body that falls away from hers. He dies two deaths at once, the deaths of love and of life. But the moment between, the moment before it all ends, is the moment of his glory and the beginning of her toil. — Paul Jones Paul Jones is the author of What the Welsh and Chinese Have in Common
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Photos by
Joseph
Hill
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Photograph by Tim Sayer
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W
e arranged to meet inside the Welcome Center on the north side of the train station in Southern Pines. “I’ll be the guy with the red scarf,” I said. “I’ll be the guy with the camera,” Joseph Hill replied. Most locals are familiar with Hill and his story. He’s become as distinctive in Southern Pines as the Yield to the Left signs that confound visiting drivers at every intersection of the downtown business district. Hill is autistic and, in that long ago pre-COVID era, you would see him most Saturdays — and pretty much any day he had a reason to come to town — wandering around with his Nikon and Fujifilm cameras. “In a way, it’s peaceful,” he says of his photography. “I can just be wandering around, minding my own business, and I come across something I haven’t seen before — maybe neither of us have seen before — and I take a picture of it. Every day, what you call mundane, that we pass by and see but don’t notice fully, if I happen to see it at just the right angle, looking up or looking down at the ground, hey, I take a picture.” Hill will turn 27 the month that this magazine appears. “I’m blessed,” he says, “and I hope to make every birthday of each year count.” Since we’re all still using best practices to avoid the spread of the virus, Hill wears his mask. It says Kindness Is Contagious. The town never had a more good-hearted face. — Jim Moriarty PS
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For more information about Joseph Hill read Jaymie Baxley's story in The Pilot at https:// www.thepilot.com/3-a-differentangle/image_3c8e794e-281d11ea-8949-db91e82ba31d.html or go to josephhillphoto.com.
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Painted Ponies Photographs by John Gessner and Mackenzie Francisco
Back in the saddle again
The wild mustangs of the Outer Banks have nothing on us now that the painted ponies have returned to the streets of Southern Pines. They’ll show their creative colors until March 30 or so when the imaginative dozen will be rounded up and auctioned off on April 3 to benefit the Carolina Horse Park.
SECRETARIAT Artist: Tiffany Teeter Sponsor: Everything Pines Real Estate Location: 210 N.W. Broad St.
INTO THE MYSTIC Artist: Sue Byrd Sponsors: BHGRE Lifestyle Property Partners and Opulence & DUXIANA of Southern Pines Location: 280 N.W. Broad St. 74
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ROOTED IN HORSES Artist: Darlene Ivey Sponsors: BB&T (now Truist) and Cabin Branch Tack Shop Location 220 S.W. Broad St.
PONIES IN THE PINES Artist: Darlene Ivey Sponsor: English Riding Supply Location: 130 S.W. Broad St.
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INCENDIARY Artist: Elizabeth Schilling Sponsors: River Jack Outdoor, Southern Whey and Chef Warren’s Bistro Location: 235 N.W. Broad St.
SERGEANT RECKLESS Artist: Larissa Lycholaj Sponsor: Mabus Farm & General Contracting Location: 155 N.E. Broad St.
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NEVERMORE Artist: Meridith Martens Sponsor: The Pilot Location: 145 W. Pennsylvania Ave
HOME OF AMERICAN GOLF Artist: Dan Dreyer Sponsors: Pinehurst, Southern Pines, Aberdeen Area Convention & Visitors Bureau Location: 144 N.W. Broad St.
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THE SCIENCE OF MIRACLES Artists: Rachel Chick Prieto and Andrew Prieto Sponsor: Southern Pines Equine Associates Location: 170 W. Pennsylvania Ave
A WHINNY IN TIME Artist: Erin Wilson Sponsor: Artistic Kitchens & Baths Location: 150 W. New Hampshire Ave.
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THE SUN AND HER FLOWERS Artist: Jenay Jarvis Sponsor: Twin Gates Farm Location: 275 N.E. Broad St.
DESERT BEAUTY Artist: Linda Nunez Sponsor: WhitLauter Estate Jewelry Location: 229 N.E. Broad St.
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Why I Love
Pool Halls By Bland Simpson
Illustration by Harry Blair
on a green field of order, where I wait for this game’s random shifts to bring you back, high and low, striped and solid balls rotate. I chalk my cue and call for one more rack . . . — Henry Taylor, from An Afternoon of Pocket Billiards
F
rom the open upstairs windows of a plain twostory commercial building overlooking a bricked side-street, Colonial Avenue in Elizabeth City, as a boy I used to hear the pouring out of loud jolly talk and laughter, but most of all the hard clicks of cue balls breaking the racks, and spoken and sometimes shouted encouragements and disappointments, and the lighter clicks of wooden scoring beads, as men I could not see slid them along strung wires above the green felt-covered slate pool tables in that magic room above. A small sign hung by the street-side door, stating simply: City Billiards, Home of Luther “Wimpy” Lassiter, World Champion, 9-Ball. In the nearby corner movie theater, the Center, my friends and I often sat, enthralled and forgetting we were only a hundred yards from a swamp river on its way from the Great Dismal Swamp to the sound and the sea, believing instead that we were riding along on horseback as we wove with the cowboys through some saguaro range, or that we were stomping or swinging along with Tarzan of the Jungle through mamba snake-ridden equatorial brakes. We even saw Zsa Zsa
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Gabor there, in Queen of Outer Space, and knew this short interlude of imaginary galactic travel had brought us to our worshipful knees before the most beautiful and powerful woman in the universe. Yet when we emerged from these diversions, our riverport reality fell heavily upon us, and the sounds of smack and click kept spilling out from the pool hall on high, and we somehow knew that was where the real men, not boys, went to have their adventures, though all we could do, our ages still in single digits, was to stand on the sidewalk below and listen hard and try and make out what the hoots and hollers and howls, and the cussing were all about, and what they all really meant.
•••
At my Uncle Joe’s home on Greenwood Road, a few hundred yards straight down the Raleigh Road hill below Gimghoul Castle in Chapel Hill, in a large square pinepaneled room stood two grand implements of joy and purpose that guided me through my teenage days: a 1917 player piano, and a Brunswick pool table of more recent vintage with a PineStraw
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golden-brown felt top. After school, an inspired fellow could get in an hour of honky-tonk piano playing (Ray Charles’ “What I’d Say,” Floyd Kramer’s “Last Date,” Alan Toussaint’s “Mother-in-Law,” as interpreted by Ernie K-Doe) and another good hour of 8-ball. Even if I were only singing alone and then playing, as well, only against myself. I liked the feel of the ivories, and then I certainly liked the light heft of the cue stick and the faint smell of blue chalk as I squeaked it onto the tip and smacked the cue ball into the rack and heard all that increasingly familiar clack and clatter. As I could be Ray Charles for a while, then I could be Wimpy Lassiter for a while too. And why not? Some of my friends from the Greenwood neighborhood, Tom West and Dave Harrison among them, would also chalk a cue with me on occasion, so the progression of lonesome though active afternoons would be broken. After a while, about the time we all turned 16 and could drive (in my case, my uncle gave me the use of a ’48 Willys jeep, with no top and only a seagull feather to dip into the gas tank to discover how close to empty the vehicle was), we decided to take our skills to town and try out a real pool hall, there being one on West Franklin Street and another on West Rosemary Street — said to be somehow under the control of Doug Clark, the musician whose perennially popular band the Hot Nuts toured the East Coast on weekends and played fortunes of off-color R&B music for young college men to alligator to, trying to impress their dates. So one sunny Saturday morning a quartet of us went into Doug’s pool hall and shot for a couple of hours and, as we knew we would, liked the loud clatter of rack after rack busting apart as ferocious underslung stick action slammed the cue balls forth into battle. That we were white boys in a black men’s redoubt made no difference, or seemed not to. We were no trouble, and we were spending money. We may not have played very well, but we were left alone and did all right there. We got to going to the Brass Rail pool hall over in downtown Durham, with its clientele as white and laconic as Doug Clark’s was black and passionate. The men of the Brass Rail were low-energy, cynical, worn down from work in the tobacco factories, older men who drifted in and out, playing two or three rounds of 8-ball and drinking two or three longnecks, and some of them hacking and spitting the brown juice of their chaws into bright brass spittoons placed all around the joint. Our play improved steadily, if slowly, as we visited these emporia, and we played only 8-ball, and my friends found their way to Uncle Joe’s piano and pool hall more frequently as well, so the long lone days had given way to days of what we had come to know as pool hall conviviality. Off to ourselves, we could feign in a way that we were up at Doug Clark’s or over at the Brass Rail and ape the ways grown men walked slowly around with squinted eyes and assayed the lay of a table as they set up their shots, and the ways they addressed the cue ball, maybe lying well over the table as they did, and slammed a long shot home or maybe just barely kissed a combination shot so the second ball in the combo might lightly curl around the cushion corner and fall smartly into the center pocket. We learned that it was not only the shot, but also the next shot, and so we learned about the leave.
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And that this was all geometry worth knowing. What really elevated the importance of pool and rooms in which it was played was a talk with my father one evening, which began with him saying: “We need to talk about where you stand with the draft.” “The draft?” I had yet to turn 18, and only would during my first term at Carolina. “What do you know about it? And I don’t mean what you’ve heard around the pool hall — what do you really know?” Not a long call, but a keen one. I promised I would follow up, check on whatever I would have to do to register, and so forth. But what was truly meaningful was my father’s realistic assumption that I would have, even should have, found my way to the pool hall and heard there the inevitable levity and also serious talk about serious matters and that, also, I might not have known how in the midst of animated and, at times, fur-flying talk, to tell what of it was real and what was not. My father was letting me know, advising me of the truth in a slant way, that one needed, always, to take the temper of the room, to learn extra-well how to navigate the gathering places, the watering holes and oases of the world, to note which assertions had real grains of truth within them and which ones were as flimsy as those thin wires above the pool tables threading through the wooden scoring beads. He was telling me that a pool hall was a truly important place, and he was right. For that first one I ever recalled, City Billiards there in Elizabeth City just a couple of blocks from where my father was born and lived and practiced law, and only two miles from where he died, drew many men into its convivial space, many of them rank amateurs, some poseurs with light skills and a trick or two and perhaps a two-bit hustle, and a few truly talented when it came to chalking a cue. Yet one of them — and only one — was the champion of the world.
•••
In time, my old friend Jake Mills showed me his two favorite pool halls, Happy’s on Cotanche in Greenville, and Wilbur’s on Webb Avenue in Burlington. After school in the 1950s, he and his longtime friend Steve Coley used to play quarter games against the textile mill hands coming off first-shift and drifting into Wilbur’s straight from work. The cigarette haze hung low below the green shades, and the cry of “Rack!” was in the air and the balls clicked and clacked and, like many a youth before them, Jake and Steve picked up pin money in this Alamance County 8-ball haven. When, decades later, Jake and I looked in late one winter’s day, had a cold one, and shot a round, no haze hung, and we were just about the only ones in Wilbur’s as a gloaming crept over the closed mills at half past five. Once, at the courthouse square pool hall in neighboring Graham, the bartender serving Jake after a spell commiserated with him, telling Jake about his best friend and how the best friend’s wife had recently stabbed him in the back with a Bic pen, not really hurting him, but . . . “Pretty pointed message,” Jake said, and the bartender The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
grimaced. “I mean,” Jake went on, “she must’ve thought he wasn’t exactly seeing the writing on the wall.” At which point the bartender shook his head angrily and walked off. Sometimes in New York City, fellow songwriter David Olney and I found ourselves in the big, 16-tabled, Upper West Side 79th Street Billiards at the northeast corner of Broadway. The hall had a fortune of windows wrapping around its corner, facing west and south, and so had a bright, airy disposition to it, even on a cloudy day. One slow afternoon, the owner, a stocky man about 60, ambled by as we racked the balls and asked us where we fellows were from. When I said North Carolina, he asked: “Anywhere near Elizabeth City?” “That’s where I grew up — Luther Lassiter’s from there!” I went on about the Colonial Billiards, about how Lassiter started hanging around there as a boy, got the use of the tables for keeping the place swept up. “Wimpy — sure. He always comes by here anytime he’s in town, runs the table a few times, shows everybody how you do it. Nice guy. The best.” “What about Minnesota Fats?” I asked. “Fats? Aw, he’s a loudmouth, a braggart — he’s nothing but a hustler.” The pool hall man who had seen it all let that sit a few seconds, nodding at Dave and me both, and just before he walked on through a space that is no more, said with finality: “Wimpy Lassiter’s the best 9-ball player I’ve ever seen. Straight pool too. And on top of that, he’s a real gentleman.”
•••
Semi-dim places like Crunkleton’s in Chapel Hill and the Orange County Social Club in Carrboro featured single tables back away from their front doors, always a nice sight for an 8-ball man or woman. Though a single table hardly a pool hall made, the OCSC, like Neville’s agreeable speakeasy just off Broad Street in Southern Pines with its lone table, seemed at least halfway there. My son Hunter and I were chalking post-Thanksgiving cues not long ago in the OCSC and challenging David and Heidi Perry, and in the ensuing contest across the red felt table (with chalk cubes to match), our energies went betimes vivid, betimes laconic, matching the energy in the small Paris-of-the-Piedmont barroom (“Nice to be channeling the Royal James,” David said a time or two). In former days, women would not have found such welcome in the real pool halls. Dave Harrison and I brought our dates into the Brass Rail in Durham one evening after we had gone to an art film at the Rialto and for that integrative act earned just about the most brazen, hostile glares either of us had ever received. But that age went by the boards sometime as the 20th century aged and passed on, and pool tables started showing up, along with darts and foosball games, in many a spot that served wine as well as beer. Vic’s smoky tavern on Turner Street in Beaufort (where, my wife, Ann, has told me, a young woman’s reputation would be shot should she ever enter) kept its three big, beckoning, green-felt slate tables and became the Royal James, smoky no more yet still and all one of the best pool halls in the The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
land and a renowned epicenter of eastern Carolina-ness, welcoming all comers and losing nothing in the bargain. Channeling the Royal James indeed. I have sat in the Royal James, the RJ, on a Thanksgiving-tide afternoon and heard the best of talk from Steve Desper, the late impressive science educator, about speculative ways to pull nitrogen out of the Neuse River; have heard from author Barbara Garrity-Blake of an African American menhaden fisherman engaging the captain of the pogeyboat upon which they both worked in there and telling him, movingly, “I know why you fish, Cap’n, ’cause it’s in your heart”; seen a laughing female in a sequined, formfitting camouflage dress pulling the taps behind the bar at a blistering pace one Friday night; seen another woman polish off male 8-ball opponents on the middle slate table just as fast as they could challenge her, she in all respects untouchable; and seen families of every imaginable age range taking a few moments off the baking summertime Beaufort streets and cooling out on the smaller, 75-cent tables in the back of the hall. And over a stretch of 35 years I have found the Royal James to be as good a barometer of balance as any around, and far better than most. As much as I have enjoyed concertizing in theaters great and small around the world, or spending serious time in the corridors of power and the halls of academia, I have also learned that a man without time to enter the pool hall and find a pint of hops and chalk a cue and go two out of three or three out of five with a handful of friends is a man missing out on some of life’s best essences. For X marks the spot where geometry and conviviality cross and create the billiard parlor, the pool room, and praise be for such salubrious intersection. At home in the hill country of Carolina, I once unwrapped a present from Ann and our daughter Cary, a lightweight something in a 2-by-3-foot box that turned out to be a miniature pool table replete with 3-foot cue-sticks and inch-and-a-half balls. And a full-sized cube of chalk. Its name — with no shadow falling between contemplation and act — immediately became the Royal James Jr. And over many years since its unwrapping, upon its green felt in our red-clay country living room, many a family and friends contest of geometry and will has been launched, played with an exacting hilarity, and settled. The relish to rack is the same, the squeak of the chalk the same, and much is spoken and heard around the RJ Jr. pool hall. And the smack and click of the white cue and the striped and solid balls are the same as they ever were, just as those clear sharp convincing sounds were when they leapt out the windows and echoed over Colonial Avenue and rained down on us boys there, emanating from Wimpy’s home court, City Billiards of long ago, where up the same lopsided stairs in the same second-story room near the banks of the Pasquotank River, there is a pool hall yet. PS Bland Simpson is Kenan Distinguished Professor of English and Creative Writing at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, the author of nine books and a longtime pianist and composer/lyricist for the Tony Award-winning North Carolina string band The Red Clay Ramblers. In 2005 he received the North Carolina Award for Fine Arts. PineStraw
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STORY OF A HOUSE
Seeing
Triple
Three options at one address By Deborah Salomon • Photography by John Gessner
H
ouses can be 3-D textbooks chronicling history or sociology. The first cottages built by the Tufts family were close to the hotel and without kitchens, since renters took their meals in the Casino building. Later on, people who stayed longer, perhaps for the winter “season,” brought children (who attended a schoolhouse built for this purpose), and needed cooking facilities and a maid’s room. Front porches, perhaps a screened one on the side, were obligatory for sitting and conversing with neighbors out for an evening stroll. Fireplaces got them through the winter. Before air conditioning, everybody left in May. After nearly two decades of attracting wealthy urbanites, the cottages — now built on spec rather than commissioned — became smaller, plainer. Some were occupied by upper-level resort staff and village merchants, others by families drawn to Pinehurst’s rung on the social ladder. The best had enough land to expand. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Acadia Cottage, built in Old Town in 1917, conforms to some of these parameters but with a checkered history. Hugh McKenzie was the first owner, followed by another five by 1951. Only one — Mrs. W.H. Nearing — appears in the Pinehurst Outlook social listing of comings and goings. Records show that a fire burned off the wood-shingled roof, which was replaced by fireproof shingles for $300. Now, beyond Acadia’s back door or through a side gate lies a magic kingdom — a mossy courtyard with a fire pit, a 50-foot-long and 11-foot-deep pool, massive stone benches for sitting and boulders for diving, a darling little pool house and a roomier guest house, both fully serviced with heat and AC, kitchenette, sitting room, a sleeping alcove and bathroom. No piece of this enclave appears strictly utilitarian. Each, whether it’s a cabinet or a conveyor-belt ceiling fan, offers an artistic, craft or historical component. Antiques co-exist peacefully with reproductions and artifacts. Only living there affords enough time to notice, and appreciate, the array. This enlargement and renovation was the brainchild of David Connelly, a Chicagoan with four athletic children, who wanted a vacation haven and found the overgrown back lot completely hidden from street view ideal. Connelly, a self-described wannabe architect, purchased the dull, dated but well-built “brownie house” on half an acre in 2000 and went to work. He and his contractor sourced stone for outbuilding walls from western North Carolina mountains, lumber from a demolished tobacco barn and the Reynolds estate in Southern Pines. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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On a damp day, the boards still smell like tobacco. They removed walls in the two-bedroom cottage, creating an open living/dining/den space, and installed a modern kitchen that, somehow, looks like it’s been there forever. A bath/laundry room with a half wall tile shower was added, as well as a Carolina room off the dining area. Details mattered; moldings aplenty, sometimes painted a color different from the walls, delineate the 10-foot ceiling. Over the front door, a transom pane. An old-timey wood screen door fit the timeline. Then, to frost this cake of many layers, a faux specialist painted wide pastel stripes from Marshall Field’s shopping bags on a powder room’s walls. Even more striking is the colored grid applied to the kitchen floorboards creating the look of scuffed linoleum, circa 1940s. The dull brownie house, called Acadia now, inside and out, glowed a pale green, neither mint nor avocado, froggy nor kiwi, but so organic to the setting that Jay and Kim Butler, who purchased the property in 2010, didn’t paint over it. The story of their acquisition rings familiar: The Butlers, from Virginia, with a second home at Nags Head, spent a weekend in Pinehurst. Kim had never been here. “We rode by the house on a Saturday and saw it was for sale. It had great curb appeal,” Jay recalls. After 10 years, Connelly was ready for another project. “I had to have a pool, so I loved that feature,” adds Kim, retired from the retail pool business, with an avocation for collecting mid-century modern furniture and unusual décor accents. “We just liked the quaintness,” says Jay, an executive in a family recycling business. Golf was a draw, confirmed by memorabilia decorating walls in the TV den opposite the living room. Most of all, “It
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was in move-in condition, exactly the way we liked it.” About a month later, they did exactly that. Soon, their friends were lining up for invitations to test private guest and pool house accommodations which set this address apart from Pinehurst estates with designated guest quarters under one roof. Their verdict, Jay says: “Kinda cool.” Each outbuilding has only one room — but enough features to fill a catalog, like a queen-sized Murphy bed hidden by wood paneling suggesting a library, or chapel. “Antiqued” cabinetry and metalwork, distressed painted pieces, leather chairs with half-moon ottomans, beadboard, an old porcelain sink, refrigerated drawers, vaulted wormy chestnut ceilings illuminated by stained glass inserts, a drop-leaf kitchen work surface that, with leaf raised, becomes a table. The guest house has a round-topped Dutch front door rescued from a wine cellar, and the pool house bathroom, with direct access to the yard, is split into shower, toilet and vanity sections along a narrow hallway. Obviously, planning coupled with imagination were at work here. However, fitting so much furniture into relatively small spaces can be challenging. Not for Kim Butler, who positions modern glass sculptures on a rustic table and adorns dressers with large, bare branches. Throughout, she uses traditional wide-slat wooden blinds. Back in two-bedroom Acadia — compact but perfect with the living area opened up and furnished with Kim’s retro pieces — one standout is a small drop-leaf kitchen table made of aluminum tubing and
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Formica, with vinyl-upholstered chairs. “I thought about an island,” always convenient in a kitchen with limited counter space. Instead, Kim settled for what has become an emblem, a conversation piece. Kim’s collection of colored pottery pitchers brightens a bookcase flanking the shallow living room fireplace, converted to gas for safety; other pottery and glass pieces cover tabletops. Texture, texture everywhere. The chandelier over the dining table is made of wood, and the upholstered club chairs qualify as shabby-chic. No two lamps claim the same parentage. Kim furnished the screened porch in Chinese red lacquer and black wicker, strong colors that pair with the darkened knotty pine floors milled from trees cut out back. Room to room, comfort prevails. Who would guess what’s inside from strolling by, as Annie Oakley might have done when she lived in an apartment across the street? The well-tended walkway, flower beds and porch provide no hint. Acadia may lack the pedigree of homes built before and during the Roaring ’20s — the Mellons and Rockefellers never stopped here. The Fownes and Marshalls opted for bigger and fancier rather than livable and convenient. But, after 10 years walking to the village for dinner after a relaxing float in the pool, then chasing the dogs around the fenced yard, Jay Butler concludes, “It’s just a good place to have a home.” PS
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I glanced out the window at the signs of spring. The sky was almost blue, the trees were almost budding, the sun was almost bright. — Millard Kaufman
Princess of the Pea
A L M A N A C
March n
By Ashley Wahl
M
arch is as harsh as it is hopeful. The earth is aflame with tender new grasses. Dead-nettle spills across the lawn like a sea of purple kisses. The birds are twittering on high and the dog is cradling something in its mouth, looking up as if to say you’ve got to see this. You are equally relieved and horrified to discover that whatever she’s holding is pink and wriggling and very much alive. “Drop it,” you say. And so, she does. On a soft patch of earth dotted with dandelion. Blind and hairless, the newborn squirrel is utterly helpless. You look up to the fork of a nearby oak, hoping to see a wild, leafy tangle of nest. Back when the world was gold-and-rust, leaves rustling like starlings with each gust, you’d witnessed its construction. And by some miracle — because what held by sticks and faith is not — the nest is still intact. You scoop up the babe with a thin cloth, place it at the base of a tree like a sacred offering, back away and wait. The dog is whimpering. She looks up at you with the worried expression of a mother, back to the squirrel, so pink and vulnerable, then back to you. Patience, you tell the dog as a reminder to yourself. The earth beneath you softens, yet there’s a chill you cannot shake. An hour passes. You have nearly given up hope that mother squirrel will arrive, but she does. And in an instant, she is gone, scurrying up the tree with the babe in her mouth. March winds can be cruel. But dog was dog, not snake or hawk. And in spring, there is always hope. Just listen to the birds. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Although the robin has been announcing its return for weeks, official spring arrives on March 20 — and with it, the glorious, flowering redbud. Blue sky or gray, redbud blossoms are utterly electric by contrast, seemingly more vibrant by the day. The Eastern redbud (Cercis canadensis), also known as the Judas tree, is a tree of the pea family. Christian folklore tells that this now small and somewhat dainty tree once stood tall and mighty as an oak and that, when Judas betrayed Christ, he hanged himself from one. But let’s talk instead of their delicate clusters of rosy pink flowers, shall we? Yep, they’re edible. High in Vitamin C. And that they burst from bare-bone limbs before the tree’s first heart-shaped leaves never fails to dazzle. Pickle them or transform your spring salad into a work of art with a sprinkling or a sprig. As for the seeds and pods? Edible, too. Eat the Weeds [eattheweeds.com], a blog for foraging newbies, suggests using the unopened buds as a caper substitute. Just add pasta, garlic and butter.
In the Garden
Mid-month, transplant broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage into the garden. Ditto lettuce and spinach. And get ready for April. After the last frost, it’s time again to sow your summer garden. The earth is softening. But the birds tell you everything you need to know: spring is here. PS PineStraw
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Flavors of the Sandhills' culinary scene
A Celebration of Dining Al Fresco We’re kicking off patio season with visits to some of the best outdoor dining options in the Sandhills.
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Farm to Patio We are the Sandhills’ premier farm to table restaurant. Experience creative, unique gourmet sandwiches, soups and salads from our scratch kitchen - from our roasted meats all the way to our fermented siracha. Pair any of our delicious dishes with a glass of NC wine or beer while relaxing in the hops garden. Construction will be complete
in early March on the addition of a covering with string lights over the patio, and if you visit us in July you will find the hops growing in whiskey barrels in full bloom. You can find us near the Moore County Airport traffic circle, in front of the Southern Pines Ace Hardware. We look forward to seeing you and continuing to support North Carolina Farms.
NEXT TO ACE HARDWARE ON CAPITAL DR., SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28327 | 910-725-7026 | ROASTNC.COM The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Comfort Food with a View At Chapman’s Food and Spirits you’ll find delicious, Chef-driven, American fare in a comfortable, casual atmosphere. Enjoy unique spins on fresh, homemade comfort food while sipping on
cocktails out on the patios in downtown Southern Pines. The front offers a splendid view down New Hampshire Ave. right into the heart of downtown, while the back provides cozy, secluded comfort.
157 EAST NEW HAMPSHIRE AVE. SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28387 | 910.246.0497 | CHAPMANSFOODANDSPIRITS.COM
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Voted “Most Authentic Pub” with Above Par Outdoor Dining Hidden among the tall pines of Pinehurst is a storied authentic American tavern, Drum & Quill. Voted the Most Authentic Pub in the 2020 Best of the Pines contest and built on the old Irish tradition of a Public House, a place to gather or a cozy place to eat, drink and make new friends, Drum & Quill offers a covered patio to gather outdoors rain or
shine. Enjoy a view of downtown Pinehurst while sampling their famous pimento cheeseburger, Korean beef tacos or friend green tomato caprese and sipping on a cocktail made from the historic bar stocked with nearly 200 spirits. Moore County’s most liked tavern is the perfect gathering spot for a hearty meal and to give a toast to spring.
40 CHINQUAPIN RD. PINEHURST, NC 28374 | 910.295.3193 | DRUMANDQUILL.COM The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Rooted in Family, Authentic Food & Community At Lisi Italian, enjoy simple authentic Italian food rooted in family. Whether you’re taking out, dining inside or al fresco, Lisi is here to meet your needs. Located in the Theatre Building. Lisi is a very special place to enjoy
community, fine food and wine, while in the Village of Pinehurst. Don’t forget to stop by Lisi Market, a grab and go Italian imports store located directly across the hall from Lisi Italian.
THEATRE BUILDING | VILLAGE OF PINEHURST | 90 CHEROKEE RD., SUITE 1C | 910-420-1136 | LISIITALIAN.COM
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Serving Up Beer, BBQ & History Enjoy an array of craft beers brewed onsite in the beer garden of the Pinehurst Brewing Co., covered by a trellis designed to mimic the train track that used to deliver coal to the steam plant
that was once housed there. The unique setting includes a smokehouse that produces a delicious assortment of brisket and Carolina barbecue to pair with your drinks.
300 MAGNOLIA RD. VILLAGE OF PINEHURST, NC 28374 | 910.235.8218 | PINEHURSTBREWING.COM The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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The Best 19th Hole in Golf The Deuce at Pinehurst Resort overlooks the 18th hole of the famed No. 2, where diners gather to watch golf and enjoy open-air seating. The restaurant offers an array of craft
cocktails and delectable dining selections in a casual pub setting, including shareables like Taterman Tots and wings, as well as towering sandwiches and crisp salads.
Overlooking the 18th green of Pinehurst No. 2 102
ONE CAROLINA VISTA DR. VILLAGE OF–PINEHURST, 28374 | 910.235.8134 | PINEHURST.COM Sunday Thursday, 11NCa.m. – 6 p.m. PineStraw
Friday – Saturday, 11 a.m. –8 p.m.
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Fine Dining Al Fresco A staple in the fine dining community of the Sandhills for over 20 years, 195 American Fusion provides unique, eclectic cuisine showcased by fresh, locally sourced ingredients. Now open year-round with heaters, fans and
ambient lighting, The Porch is the perfect setting to enjoy a meal out with friends and family. You can also rent out the patio or private dining room for your next big event, with a customizable menu fresh from 195 kitchen and a full bar.
195 BELL AVENUE | SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28387 | 910-692-7110 | 195AMERICANFUSION.COM The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Arts Entertainment C A L E N DA R
Growth Lecture
Spring Fling
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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. JOY OF ART STUDIO. 2021 Joy of Art Studio Winter Arts continues with lots of fun and creative classes for all ages. Paint with Joy twice a month. Offering both private and small groups with safe distance. Classes are held at Joy of Art Studio, 139 E. Pennsylvania Ave., Suite B, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 528-7283 or www. joyof-art.com or www.facebook.com/Joyscreativespace/. GIVEN BOOK SHOP. The Given Book Shop is open to the public on a limited basis. Those who wish to enter must wear a face mask, have their temperature taken and abide by rules of social distancing. For those not wishing to enter the bookshop a “to-go” request form can be found at www.giventufts.org/book-request-form/. Please check www.giventufts.org for up-to-date information on the status of open days, hours of operation and book donations. The Given Book Shop, 95 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 585-4820. GIVEN MEMORIAL LIBRARY. Given Memorial Library is open on a limited basis. Those who wish to enter must wear a face mask, have their temperature taken and abide by rules of social distancing. Please check www.giventufts.org for up-to-date information on the status of open days and hours of operation. For those not wishing to enter the library “to-go” orders can be placed by phone or email. Go to the online catalog. Check for availability, then call (910) 295-6022 or email info@giventufts.com. Staff will fill request and contact with instructions on pickup. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. LIBRARY READING PACKETS. Given Memorial Library has new reading packets available which include craft supplies and activity sheets. Check library hours for pickup by calling (910) 295-6022 or email info@ giventufts.com. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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LITTLE READERS. Little Clips for Little Readers features fun rhymes, songs and literacy tips for children aged birth to 5 and their parents and caregivers. Look for these videos posted weekly on SPPL’s Facebook page and YouTube channel. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net. MOORE ART SHARE. The Arts Council of Moore County and Given Memorial Library invite citizens of all ages to share their art with the community by submitting it to an online publication. Submissions can include visual arts, music, theater, short stories, videos, photography, recipes and more. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www.mooreart.org. WEYMOUTH CENTER. The Weymouth Center has tentative events dependent upon the directives of the governor’s office. Visit www.weymouthcenter.org for upcoming event information. DATE NIGHT AT THE SUNRISE. Rent the Sunrise Theater for your private event. Email MaryBeth@ sunrisetheater.com to help plan your special night out at the Sunrise. SCAVENGER HUNT. Pick up scavenger hunts at the Given Book Shop, Given Memorial Library or online at www.giventufts.org/program-and-events. The scavenger hunt will take you through the village of Pinehurst and there will be multiple themes such as science, shapes, historic buildings and more. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Monday, March 1
ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. Students ages 9 – 18-years-old can take a linoleum block printing class taught by Ellen Burke. Tuition is $80 and includes all materials. Serendipity Art Studios, 110 North Poplar St., Aberdeen. Info: (603) 966-6567 or exploringartellen3@gmail.com. PAINTED PONIES. The Painted Ponies Art Walk and Auction features 12 painted ponies on the streets
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of Southern Pines until March 30. The ponies will be auctioned off on April 5 to benefit the Carolina Horse Park Foundation. Info: www.carolinahorsepark.com. Tuesday, March 2
READ ACROSS AMERICA. 9 a.m. Join us live for preschool story time with local heroes. Watch live on www.zoom.us/join using meeting ID: 928 8969 0131. Given Book Shop, 95 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: www.giventufts.org. Wednesday, March 3
RUTH PAULEY LECTURE SERIES. 7:30 p.m. Associate research professor of economic history at Duke University Dirk Philipsen will present “Un-caring Growth and the Promise of Collective Wellbeing,” discussing how we can think about and rebuild modern societies confronting converging crises like climate change, racism and wealth inequality. Lecture will be available to the public to view at www.ruthpauley.org. Friday, March 5
FINE ARTS FESTIVAL. 9 a.m. View art in the annual Young People’s Fine Arts Festival, showcasing work from students in Moore County Schools grades K-8. The exhibit will be on display through March 26. Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www.mooreart.org. ART RECEPTION. 5 - 7 p.m. The Artists League of the Sandhills March exhibit will showcase the work of members featuring a variety of styles and mediums. The exhibit will be on display through March 25. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 4. Streaming performance at the Meymandi Concert Hall in Raleigh. There will be additional performances on March 6 at 8 p.m. and on March 11 at 8 p.m. N.C. Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www. ncsymphony.org.
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CA L E N DA R Saturday, March 6
OUTDOOR MARKETPLACE. 12 - 4 p.m. Come enjoy an outdoor market featuring a variety of small businesses and artisans. Masks required. Sunrise Square, 260 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Sunday, March 7
WRITING GROUP. 3 p.m. Interested in creating fiction, nonfiction, poetry or comics? Connect with other writers and artists, chat about your craft and get feedback on your work. All levels are welcome. The session will meet via Zoom. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. To join email: lholden@sppl.net. Thursday, March 11
LUNCH N LEARN. 10 a.m. The Sandhills Woman’s Exchange will have local movie buff Ron Layne presenting “Movies and the Oscars.” There will be lunch and dessert to follow. Reservations are $25 per person. Sandhills Woman’s Exchange, 15 Azalea Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-4677. Friday, March 12
SPRING FLING. 5:30 - 6:30 p.m. Children ages 3 – 12-years-old are invited to join Southern Pines Recreation and Parks for a Spring Fling kickoff event. Enjoy all types of fun games while winning tickets that can be cashed in for cool prizes. Memorial Park, 210 Memorial Park Court, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. OUTDOOR MOVIE. 7 p.m. Back to the Future. There will be a second showing on March 13 at 7 p.m. Tickets are $10 per person. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Saturday, March 13
TEA WITH POTTERS. 10 a.m. Spend the day in Seagrove on a relaxing gallery crawl. Participating pottery shops will have goodie bags for visitors that will include tea from Carriage House Tea of Asheboro. Seagrove Potters, N.C. Pottery Highway 705, Seagrove. www.teawithseagrovepotters.webstarts.com. MINI HERB GARDEN. 11 a.m. All ages are invited to pick up supplies to make a mini herb garden. This outdoor program will feature a short demonstration of how to construct your herb garden plus a display of cookbooks available for checkout. Masks are required. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235. Sunday, March 14
MOVIE. 2 p.m and 6 p.m. The Quiet Man, starring John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara at the Sunrise Theater. Seats are resigned. Tickets are $10 per person. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. ST. PATTY’S DAY WARM-UP. 5 - 6 p.m. Pick up a boxed dinner catered by Broad Street Bakery and Café, or bring a chair and enjoy a picnic on the grounds with live music. Dinner includes corned beef, potatoes, cabbage, carrots, soda bread and dessert. Tickets are $25 for Weymouth members and $35 for non-members. RSVP by March 9. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info and tickets: (910) 692-6161 or www. weymouthcenter.org or www.ticketmesandhills.com. Tuesday, March 16
BINGO. 1 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to play 10 games of bingo. Prizes given to the winners. Cost is $2/resident; $4/non-resident. Space is limited to 24 participants. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W.
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Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. Wednesday, March 17
GIVEN-TO-GO. 5:30 - 6:30 p.m. Given Memorial Library and Elliott’s on Linden present St. Patrick’s Day Given-To-Go. Enjoy a meal of corned beef, cabbage and more. Ticket sales begin on March 1. Dinner for two is $40. Given Book Shop, 95 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-3642 or email giventufts@gmail.com. Thursday, March 18
CIVIL WAR ROUND TABLE. 6:30 p.m. The guest speaker will be Paul Dunn, round table member and author, with a presentation on “The Religious Beliefs of Abraham Lincoln Including His Recurring Dreams.” Meeting starts at 7 p.m. Open to the public. This date is tentative pending COVID-19 restrictions. Please call or email to confirm. Civic Club, corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Ashe Street, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 246-0452 or mafarina@aol.com. Friday, March 19
OUTDOOR MOVIE. 8 p.m. Airplane! There will be a second showing on March 20 at 8 p.m. Tickets are $10 per person. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Swing and Blues with Byron Stripling. This is a streaming performance at Meymandi Concert Hall in Raleigh. There will be additional performances on March 20 at 3 p.m. and 8 p.m. and on March 25 at 8 p.m. N.C. Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org. Saturday, March 20
VIRTUAL SYMPOSIUM. 8:45 a.m. - 12 p.m. The Cumberland County Extension Master Gardener Association will be hosting a virtual gardening symposium. OUTDOOR MARKETPLACE. 12 - 4 p.m. Come enjoy an outdoor market featuring a variety of small businesses and artisans. Masks required. Sunrise Square, 260 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Friday, March 26
FLASHLIGHT EGG HUNT. 7 - 8 p.m. Children ages 3 – 12-years-old are invited to join Southern Pines Recreation and Parks for a flashlight egg hunt. Enjoy crafts starting at 7 p.m. and the egg hunt starting at 7:30 p.m. Memorial Park, 210 Memorial Park Court, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Gershwin and Dvorak. This is a streaming performance at Meymandi Concert Hall in Raleigh. There will be another performance on March 27 at 8 p.m. N.C. Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org. Tuesday, March 30
PAGE TURNERS. 10:30 a.m. Southern Pines Public Library’s newest book club will meet via Zoom. The book is A Land More Kind Than Home, by Wiley Cash. Can’t make the live meeting? Head over to the SPPL Page Turners Facebook Page to post your thoughts and interact with group members. Info: (910) 692-8235 or email lib@sppl.net. UPCOMING EVENTS Friday, April 2
OUTDOOR MOVIE. 8 p.m. ET at the Sunrise Theater. There will be a second showing on April 3 at 8 p.m. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com.
Friday, April 16
DINO HUNT. 12 p.m. You and your team of dinosaur hunters can embark on an adventure, spotting and hunting dinos from your own car with a Nerf-style dart blaster. Cost is $20 per car in advance or $30 at the door. Cathis Farm, 544 Falcon Road, Lillington. Info: (910) 502-0348 or www.cathisfarm.com/ dino-hunt-adventure. Sunday, April 18
PLANT SALE. 8 a.m. - 3 p.m. The Pinehurst Garden Club’s annual plant sale fundraiser will take place offering favorites such as geraniums, vincas and begonias. Green Haven Nursery, 255 Green Haven Lane, Carthage. Info: (910) 420-8214 or www.pinehurstgardenclub.com. WEEKLY EVENTS Mondays
WORKOUTS. 8:30 a.m. - 4:30 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to get their workout on. Open Monday through Friday. Cost for six months: $15/resident; $30/ non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. Info: (910) 692-7376. INDOOR WALKING. 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. Improve balance, blood pressure and maintain healthy bones with one of the best methods of exercise. Classes are held at the same time Monday through Friday. Ages 55 and up. Cost for six months: $15/resident; $30/non-resident. Southern Pines Recreation Center, 210 Memorial Park Ct., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. TAP CLASS. 1:30 - 3 p.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost per class: $15/resident; $30/ non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. Tuesdays
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
TAP CLASS. 1:30 - 3 p.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost per class: $15/resident; $30/ non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. 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
FARMERS MARKET. 9 a.m. – 1 p.m. The Southern Pines market has a variety of fresh produce, baked goods and more, 604 W. Morganton Rd. (Armory Sports Complex), Southern Pines. Fridays
TAP CLASS. 10 - 11:30 a.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost per class: $15/resident; $30/ non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376. PS
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
SandhillSeen Painted Ponies Art Walk Downtown Southern Pines Friday, January 30, 2021
Photographs by Diane McKay Luke, Laken & Liz Zimmerman
Andrew, Rachel & Hugh Prieto
Dr. Tom Daniel, Joan Hilsman, Mav Hankey
Charles Oliver, Bill T. & Bill D. Hansen
Taniya Smith
John & Cathy Turzewski, Abby (dog)
Brooke, Sam & Charlie Carubba
Rachel, Emma & Callie Garrison, Indy (dog)
Gay Stefanowicz, Elizabeth Ferrante
Erin & Deborah Wilson Laura, Margaret & Elizabeth Rubin
Lauren Austin, Michael Moody
Kate, David & Heidi Young
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Michel & Frank Lapalombella
SandhillSeen
Jan Lawrence, Allie Brokhoff, Anita Mashburn
The Cupid Crawl
Downtown Southern Pines Saturday, February 6, 2021
Photographs by Diane McKay Franceska Aaron, Tiffanie Lancaster Jen McRae, Kathy & Robert Hawks
Teresa Lawless, Donna Conway, Joy Roberts
Harriet & Mary Hassinger
Anthony & Brooke Thomas Mike, Luke & Jessica Ellis
Tony & Tina Jenkins
Jane Francks, Meridith Martens, Donna Haggard
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Arts & Culture
warm up ST. PATTY’S DAY
AT WEYMOUTH CENTER Sunday, March 14 • 5-6pm
Gallery • Studios • Classes
“March is for the Arts” Opening Reception Friday, March 5, 5:00-7:00 Exhibit Open thru March 25
“All That Jazz”
Solo Show by Jude Winkley Opening Reception Friday, April 2 5:00-7:00 Exhibit Open thru April 29
Gallery Hours: Monday - Saturday 12-3pm CLASSES
Oil and Acrylic Introduction to Oils for Beginners - Linda Bruening - Monday & Tuesday, March 29 & 30 9:30-3:30 Next Step-Oil Painting - Linda Bruening – Wednesday & Thursday, April 7 & 8 9:30-3:30 Oil Painting with Courtney – Monday & Tuesday, April 12 & 13 10:00-3:30 Painting Portraits Series – Harry Neely – Tuesdays – May 4, 11, 18 & 25 9:30-1:00 Watercolor Watercolor Basics and More - Jean Smyth - Wednesdays, March 3, 10 & 17 10:00-3:00 Creative Doodling/Mandala Art (Watercolor/Acrylic) Mixed Media Joy Hellman - Friday, March 19 10:00-3:00 Colored Pencil and Pastel Let’s Have Fun-Bolder/Looser Think Value and Pattern (Pastel) - Betty Hendrix - Wednesday, March 24 10:00-4:00 Other Mediums InkTastic/Intermediate Alcohol Ink - Pam Griner - Tuesday, March 16 11:30-2:30 InkFinity/Advanced Alcohol Ink - Pam Griner - Tuesday, March 23 11:30-2:30 Gimmicks, Tricks, and Teases in Painting – Vicki Hogan – Friday, March 26 10:00-3:00 Funny Faces - Acrylic/Mixed Media - Joy Hellman - Tuesday, April 6 10:00-3:00 All the Pretty Papers, Ribbons and Gum Wrappers – Vicki Hogan – Thursday, April 15 10:00-3:00
Take your dinner to go or stay for a picnic on the grounds! MUSIC!
RSVP by March 9 $25 members / $35 non-members BYOB Boxed dinner includes: Corned Beef, Potatoes, Cabbage, Carrots, Irish Soda Bread & Dessert Catered By:
Pick Upc!or Picni TICKETS: WEYMOUTHCENTER.ORG INFO: 910.692.6261
NC GLASSFEST A sale of handcrafted glass and glassware April 3 - 16
Glassblowing demonstrations on Saturdays Shop Online and In Person Visits must be scheduled in advance at STARworksNC.org Free Reservations Walk-ins not allowed. Masks required
100 Russell Drive Star, NC 27356 (910) 428-9001 www.STARworksNC.org
129 Exchange Street in Aberdeen, NC www.artistleague.org • artistleague@windstream.net The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
March PineNeedler By Mart Dickerson
ACROSS 1. Complain (also a fish) 5. ___ Verde National Park 9. Winter sculpture 12. Carbon compound 13. “Don’t bet ___!” 2 wds 14. Manicure tool 15. Combines 18. Brand of jeans 19. Form entry, 2 wds 20. Mercury, Saturn, Earth or Venus 22. Angel headwear 23. Library offering 24. Winter machine 26. Sets of nines 30. Oafish sorts 31. Burglar 32. Anger 33. City on the Yamuna River in India 34. Winter treat 35. “Whatcha ___?” 36. Fib 37. Biblical birthright seller 39. Peddles wares 40. Like a winded speech or saga 42. Winter motor craft 43. Golden Triangle country 44. Lover of Aeneas 45. Male counterpart 48. Sinatra, Dino, Crosby, e.g. 52. Auspices 53. Electrical or mechanical diagram
55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60.
All ___, listening LP player, abbr. Data June 6, 1944 Aardvark fare Pool floater
DOWN 1. Line or finish an indoor wall or roof 2. “___ and the King of Siam” 3. Decomposes 4. Extreme excess 5. Team spirit 6. Bewitch 7. Locale 8. Absorbed, as a cost 9. Appearance 10. On the safe side, at sea 11. Bird’s home 14. Winter precipitation bit 16. Chews like a dog 17. Kitchen wiping implement 21. “The ___ and short of it” 23. “___ here long?” 24. One over par 25. “Two Women” Oscar winner Sophia 27. Garlicky mayonnaise 28. Practice, at Fort Bragg 29. Taste, for one 30. Winter weapon 31. “___ rang?”
Puzzle answers on page 104 Mart Dickerson lives in Southern Pines and welcomes suggestions from her fellow puzzle masters. She can be reached at martaroonie@gmail.com.
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Let it Snow!
34. Low islands 35. Stylishly gallant 37. And others, for short 38. Winter trekking need 39. Sin city 41. Glazed, as eyes 42. Constriction of the pupil 44. Winter dune 45. Graze 46. “Good grief!”
47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 54.
Actress Sorvino ___ music, gab Mountain in Italy Jazz bit Sean Connery, for one When doubled, a dance
2
8 3 6 7
Sudoku:
Fill in the grid so every row, every column and every 3x3 box contain the numbers 1-9.
4
5 1 8 9
1 7
1 5
2 7 6
4 6
9 3 4
2 PineStraw
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SOUTHWORDS
Year of the Fox
By Ashley Wahl
My sweetheart and I share a birthday in February. Last year, same as the year before, we took each other to the circus to celebrate. This year we are training a fox.
OK, the fox is actually a dog. And if we’re being honest with ourselves, we think she might be training us. The point is, it’s a different kind of circus this year, and a timid red dog with large, pointy ears is showing us a thing or two about magic. In our former life, Alan and I spent the coldest months in Florida, near Sarasota, where the Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey Circus maintained its winter quarters for over 30 years. There, the circus arts are still alive and thriving, and each year — with the exception of this year — its Circus Arts Conservatory puts on Circus Sarasota Under the Big Top, which always falls on our birthday. The show is fantastical. No wild animals, of course. Just a dazzling display of human potential. For us, it felt like the ultimate celebration of life on this strange and beautiful planet. Although we were technically living in Asheville (as in, that’s where we got our mail), our Florida home was a no-frills camper van equipped with the bare essentials, including a single-burner camp stove and a portable fridge. Rarely did we stay in one spot for longer than three days, and on weekends, we set up our canopy tent at art and craft festivals up and down the coast, vending our wares alongside fellow travelers. Suffice it to say there was no room for a dog in our traveling carnival. But life twists and turns like a master contortionist. When we put down our stakes in Greensboro last fall, we felt it was time to add a member to our troupe. Back when we thought we were looking for a guard dog, we hooked up with a German Shepherd rescue that had recently taken in a mama with eight pups. The dam wasn’t exactly a Shepherd — or any other
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breed that was easily defined. She was smaller — maybe 50 pounds — with a short, red coat and large, pointed ears. Someone found her dodging traffic on a busy road in Fayetteville and, as it turned out, had an unneutered German Shepherd waiting at home. You can guess what happened next. The whelps were darling — half Shepherd, half whatever their mother was — each one adopted as soon as they were old enough. We brought home mama. This is a good time to mention that Alan and I are first-time dog owners. And while we had binge-watched several seasons of Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan, nothing can prepare you for bringing home a shy little fox of a dog who is, quite literally, scared of everything. And everyone. While she isn’t exactly the guard dog we envisioned — at least not yet — we named her for the Hindu goddess Durga, protective mother of the universe often depicted perched on the back of a lion or tiger. Talk about a circus act. As for the name, we figured she might grow into it. Admittedly, watching Dog Whisperer before adopting a dog is a bit like reading Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods before hiking the Appalachian Trail, but our big takeaway is that, often, a dog’s behavior hinges upon its human’s energy. We are witnessing firsthand that Durga’s trust and confidence starts with our own. It’s a wonderful practice — leading by example rather than trying to “fix” what’s “out there.” And what a beautiful lesson on patience. Our only expectations are that of our own reactions and yet, by some miracle, our shy little fox is blossoming. No, she’s not jumping through hoops or walking a tightrope yet, but what is the circus if not a celebration of the extraordinary? And isn’t it extraordinary to live life fully and without fear? We’re getting there. PS Contact O.Henry editor Ashley Wahl at awahl@ohenrymag.com. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
ILLUSTRATION BY MERIDITH MARTENS
The subtle magic of a different kind of circus
Photo by Tim Sayer
Buyer, Purveyor & Appraiser of Fine and Estate Jewellery 229 NE Broad Street • Southern Pines, NC • (910) 692-0551 Mother and Daughter Leann and Whitney Parker Look Forward to Welcoming You to WhitLauter. @whitlauter_jewelers
