$3500
McDevitt town & country properties
A West Coast Lifestyle Boutique
CoolSweats in the Village of Pinehurst 910.295.3905 105 Cherokee Rd, Pinehurst, NC 28374
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PINEHURST • $470,000
PINEHURST • $430,000
ROBBINS • $350,000
1 BLAIR COURT Custom 3 BR / 2 BA one-story brick home situated on 14th hole of Pinehurst course #1 w/views of 13th green.
335 DORAL DRIVE Lovely 3 BR / 3.5 BA golf front home in desirable location w/wide vistas of course #1 and 4th hole of Pinehurst CC.
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.
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WHISPERING PINES • $345,000
PINEHURST • $410,000
PINEHURST • $495,000
171 PINE LAKE DRIVE Charming 3 BR / 2.5 BA brick home in immaculate condition w/extensive upgrades and nice curb appeal.
95 FILLY PLACE Immaculate 4 BR / 3.5 BA brick home situated on two lots w/special touches and features throughout.
16 TALLADALE COURT Lovely 3 BR / 4 BA one-level brick home in popular Pinewild CC w/spacious layout and lots of curb appeal.
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CAMERON • $326,000
30 ASHLEY COURT Enjoy peace and tranquility in this lovely 2 BR / 2 BA townhome in picturesque 55 and up community.
PINEHURST • $475,000
135 ALMOND DRIVE Amazing 4 BR / 2.5 BA home in immaculate condition in Forest Ridge subdivision. Move-in ready!
14 LINTON COURT Charming 3 BR / 2.5 BA golf front home nestled in a quiet cul-de-sac in desirable Pinewild community.
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Luxury Properties Moore County’s Most Trusted Real Estate Team!
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PINEHURST • $575,000
PINEHURST • $785,000
PINEHURST • $525,000
60 BEL AIR DRIVE Beautiful brick home on corner lot in desirable CCNC community. Bright, open floorplan w/ great touches and fine detail throughout. 3 BR / 2.5 BA
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 • $812,500
PINEHURST • $580,000
46 ROYAL COUNTY DOWN Immaculate 4 BR / 4 BA home in National Golf Club situated on 11th fairway of #9 course. A must see home!
126 BROOKFIELD DRIVE Stately 5 BR / 4 BA home in picturesque Forest Creek community w/postcard-like golf views among massive curb appeal and Southern Charm!
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.
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PINEHURST • $575,000 12 ABINGTON DRIVE Elegant 5 BR / 4 BA Southern Living style custom home. Home is situated on private wooded lot across from Pinewild CC.
PINEHURST • $510,000
PINEHURST • $855,000
47 PINEWILD DRIVE Spectacular custom 4 BR / 3 BA home overlooking the 4th tee of the Azalea course in private Pinewild CC.
24 ROYAL COUNTY DOWN Gorgeous 5 BR / 5 Full BA 2 half BA custom home located on 13th fairway of Pinewild CC. Amazing in-ground pool and golf views.
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
May ���� FEATURES 71 I Swear
Poetry By Debra Kaufman
72 A Celebration of Mother’s Day By Jenna Biter Gracefully doing the hardest job in the world
78 Doing It Right
By Bill Fields On the field, on the court, in life
84 A Grave Question By Bill Case On the trail of Flora MacDonald’s offspring
90 Time Warp
By Deborah Salomon A modern family flourishes in a century-old house
101 May Almanac By Ashley Wahl
DEPARTMENTS
15 20 25 27
Simple Life By Jim Dodson PinePitch Good Natured By Karen Frye The Omnivorous Reader
31 35 37 41 46 51 55 59
Bookshelf Hometown By Bill Fields In the Spirit By Tony Cross The Kitchen Garden
By Stephen E. Smith
By Jan Leitschuh
The Creators of N.C. By Wiley Cash
Character Study By Jenna Biter Out of the Blue By Deborah Salomon
Pleasures of Life Dept.
By Scott Sheffield
61 63 67 103 111 112
Birdwatch By Susan Campbell The Sporting Life By Tom Bryant Golftown Journal By Lee Pace Arts & Entertainment Calendar PineNeedler By Mart Dickerson Southwords By Jim Moriarty Cover photograph by Tim Sayer Photograph this page by John Gessner
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Opulence of Southern Pines and DUXIANA at The Mews, 280 NW Broad Street, Downtown Southern Pines, NC 910.692.2744
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 www.duxiana.com
Bucolic Whispering pines horse Farm
M A G A Z I N E Volume 17, No. 5 David Woronoff, Publisher Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director andie@thepilot.com
Jim Moriarty, Editor
jjmpinestraw@gmail.com
Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer alyssamagazines@gmail.com
Lauren M. Coffey, Graphic Designer laurenmagazines@gmail.com
CONTRIBUTING EDITORS
Jim Dodson, Editor Emeritus Deborah Salomon, Staff Writer
CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS
John Gessner, Laura Gingerich, Tim Sayer
CONTRIBUTORS Cynthia Adams, Jenna Biter, Harry Blair, Tom Bryant, Susan Campbell, Bill Case, Mallory Cash, Wiley Cash, Tony Cross, Brianna Rolfe Cunningham, Mart Dickerson, Bill Fields, Laurel Holden, Sara King, Jan Leitschuh, Meridith Martens, D.G. Martin, Jason Oliver Nixon, Mary Novitsky, Lee Pace, Todd Pusser, Joyce Reehling, Scott Sheffield, Stephen E. Smith, Angie Tally, Kimberly Taws, Daniel Wallace, Ashley Wahl, Claudia Watson, Renee Whitmore ADVERTISING SALES
Ginny Trigg, Advertising Director 910.693.2481 • ginny@thepilot.com
2776 Niagara Carthage Road • Carthage This idyllic farm, nestled on a hillside above Thaggard’s Lake, has it all. The log home, centered on the property is surrounded by lush pastures, a back yard fenced for dogs, a 4-stall center isle barn, storage shed and generous carport. A deck across the back with a covered center portion supporting a balcony offers a beautiful woodland view. Inside, the two story living room is wood paneled, with a stone fireplace and opens to the kitchen, breakfast room and dining room. The spacious master bedroom, opening to the back deck is balanced by a wing with 3 BR, 2 baths, a workout room and large laundry storage room. The sandspur-free pastures have nice flat areas for working horses and ample trailer parking. The farm offers a very private setting. Offered at $975,000.
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
33 Elkton Drive • Forest Creek Golf Club • Pinehurst This golf front residence offers luxury and drama in a home balanced with inviting, livable spaces. Soaring ceiling heights and double height windows offer dramatic lake and golf views. The ground floor hosts a series of game rooms and a theater. Built in 2007 with a premier location on the 16th Hole, North Course, the property has 5 bedrooms , 4.5 baths, 3 garage bays. Offered at $1,945,000.
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
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
under contract
under contract
123 Pinefield Court • Southern Pines
5 Merion Place • CCNC • Pinehurst
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
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
Berkshire Hathaway HomeSercies and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.Housing Opportunity.
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Serving Moore County and Surrounding Areas! 910.684.8674 | 120 N ASHE ST | SOUTHERN PINES, NC 28387
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SIMPLE LIFE
Simple Gifts
The secret to a good life? Less is more
By Jim Dodson
A friend recently wondered why I named this column “Simple Life.”
I joked that it was better than the original name I came up with — “Frankly, My Name Escapes Me.” In truth, the title is as aspirational as it is functional, a useful reminder that the longer I live, the more I grow to appreciate the value of simplifying my life. In her recent column, “Simplicity: The Neglected Value,” author and communications coach Bruna Martinuzzi points out that we timeenslaved, stressed-out, overworking humans simply don’t know what’s good for us when it comes to where we place our focus in life. “We read and hear enough about its benefits in just about every facet of our lives,” she writes, “yet we walk past it, every day, in pursuit of the more complex, complicated, tangled and sometimes puzzling. There is no glitter in simple, not enough buttons to play with. We fear that simple equates with easy, light, too basic — unsophisticated.” Leonardo da Vinci, in fact, declared simplicity the ultimate form of sophistication. As did the likes of Winston Churchill, Albert Einstein, Walt Whitman, Lao Tzu, Yogi Berra, Marcus Aurelius, Leo Tolstoy and Maya Angelou. Rumi called it the dust that hides the gold. Whether planning a wedding or a war, simplicity is key to a successful outcome, knowing what’s not essential and eliminating it before things get out of hand. A year ago, the combination of the pandemic and wedding plans that had grown far more complicated than expected prompted my The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
daughter, Maggie, and her fiancé, Nate, to postpone and rethink how they wished to tie the knot. They’ve since envisioned an intimate gathering of close friends and family to celebrate their union when the moment is right, somewhere in nature, stress-free and away from the madding crowd. One unexpected benefit of this strange year of distance and isolation, social scientists and trend-watchers report, is a broad refiguring of how we Americans live, work and appropriate our time. While churches and bars — the yin and yang of modern cultural society — still struggle to stay open, life-enriching activities like meditation, Zoom yoga, home gardening, golf and bird-watching have mushroomed in popularity. According to more than one expert on the American workplace, mobile workspaces and home offices will be the engine that produces the next Industrial Revolution, spawning a vast new generation of home-grown entrepreneurs and inventive visionaries. History holds some encouraging parallels. During the Great Depression and Second World War, an era of severe economic dislocation and public self-sacrifice, a generation of self-made engineers, tinkerers and inventors — many working in the isolation of their own garages and backyard sheds — managed to create everything from frozen foods to the first computers, color TV to dialysis machines, jet engines to Tupperware. That boom became the foundation for the consumer revolution and space age of the 1950s and ’60s. Your smart phone is the godchild of that time. A couple years ago, while traveling the Great Wagon Road for my current book project about America’s original immigrant highway, I paid an afternoon call on a lovely Amish family, the Lapps, who live in PineStraw
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the heart of Pennsylvania’s lush Lancaster County. The “plain” ways of America’s Old Order Amish — such as their unadorned clothing, use of oil lamps instead of electricity and reliance on horses for transportation and farming — are an echo of our vanished agrarian past and a living reminder of the virtues of simplicity. Amish and Mennonite farmers were the first European settlers to answer William Penn’s call to Lancaster County in the late 17th century, using their wise farming practices and love of the land and their animals to transform the county’s rich limestone soil into the most productive farmland in the nation. The so-called “Garden Spot of the Nation” is now regarded as the birthplace of American agriculture. The Lapp family’s ancestors had been on their land since before the American Revolution, living as comfortably in accord with nature and the Divine as anyone I’ve ever met. After Mervyn showed me around his immaculate barns, we sat with his wife, Catharine, in the evening light, sipping delicious meadow tea — a drink made from boiling fresh mint gathered from surrounding fields — beneath a grove of old trees. They talked about their three grown sons, all of whom worked in the family’s masonry business, and how devotion to God, family and the pleasure of doing good work with their hands were the pillars of a rewarding life. It was one of the most pleasing interviews I’ve ever conducted. For the record, there were even a few myth-busting surprises, including the fact that the Lapp men were all crazy about playing golf, and that Mervyn was a lifelong L.A. Dodgers fan who often watched games on his neighbor’s television.
“If you’re smart,” he told me during our walk through his beautiful stone barn, “you take stock of what’s really important in your life . . . and other things you can simply live without.” He paused and gave me a wry look. “Simple things are always best. That’s a key to happiness. But I do need my Dodgers.” As I drove home to North Carolina on a winding backcountry road, I was reminded of my own aspirations of simplicity, beginning with my chosen route home. Getting anywhere fast is one thing I can do without. In his 1939 classic, The Importance of Living, Lin Yutang points out that beyond the noble art of getting things done, there may be an even nobler art of leaving things undone. “The wisdom of life,” he writes, “consists in the elimination of nonessentials.” During this year of distance from friends and family, in place of going out to movies or dinner, an older couple I know took up reading to each other every morning from their favorite books, a practice they plan to continue indefinitely. “It’s been a wonderful discovery,” Harry reports. “A simple gift that’s brought us closer than ever. It’s now part of our lives.” Over this same interlude, I began work on a large garden I have dreamed of making for many years, one that will probably take me many more years to complete. As any gardener knows, of course, a garden is never finished, so my education as a man of the soil — and my wonder at its constant gifts — will never cease, until I do. Simply put, what a lovely thought. PS Jim Dodson can be reached at jim@thepilot.com.
Lin gets Results! toP 1 % of Moore Country reaLtors toP 1 % of u.s. reaLtors
ENERGY. EXPERIENCE. EFFORT. WWW.LINHUTAFF.COM
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Lin Hutaff’s PineHurst reaLty GrouP Village of Pinehurst | 910.528.6427 | linhutaff@pinehurst.net The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
If Pinehurst has it, Lin can get it for you! Go to LinHutaff. com UN
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315 N BEULAH HILL ROAD • OLD TOWN Offered at $1,250,000.
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20 ROCKLAND LANE • DORAL WOODS, Offered at $469,000.
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10 GREENCASTLE DRIVE • NATIONAL Offered at $425,000.
2 DRAYTON COURT • MIDDLETON PLACE Offered at $389,000.
215 INVERRARY ROAD • FAIRWOODS ON 7
4 AUGUSTA WAY • PINEHURST
Private Estate on over 4 acres within the gates of Fairwoods on 7, a gated Community on the Pinehurst Country Club grounds. Surrounded by 1000 feet of Golf frontage, gracious grounds, extensive covered porches. Gorgeous home with panoramic views.
Private Estate steps from OLD TOWN with spectacular grounds in the Donald Ross area. Terraced back yard flows to large Pond with total privacy. Character and charm abound in this Southern Country home with handsome “hunt room’ and cozy wine cellar.
ENERGY. EXPERIENCE. EFFORT.
Lin Hutaff’s PineHurst reaLty GrouP Village of Pinehurst | 910.528.6427 | linhutaff@pinehurst.net
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
14 Cumberland Drive, Pinehurst
$1,495,000
MLS 182223 Original schoolhouse on 1st fairway of #2 golf course. Totally renovated. Enclave blends tradition with luxury amenities. Garage apartment.
BHHSPRG.COM
LUXURY
58 Plantation Drive, Southern Pines
612 McLendon Hills Drive, West End
4 bed • 4/1 bath Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 205166
Enjoy preparing wonderful meals in tremendous, newly renovated chef’s kitchen! A spacious breakfast room with floor to ceiling windows flows seamlessly into the living rooms. These spaces are ideal for any family gathering and holiday celebration. Absolutely pristine condition and move in ready.
Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 203384
LUXURY
$995,000
3 bed • 3/1 bath
$895,000
4 bed • 4 bath
Debbie Darby (910) 783-5193
Price Improvement! Casual sophistication & timeless style are the hallmarks of this gracefully presented home in the prestigious gated, Forest Creek. 3 bedrooms, 3/1 baths. Potential for another bedroom to be built above the garage. Expansive outdoor living on multiple lots.
LUXURY
Point of View — Custom waterfront in McLendon Hills on 1.5 Acres. 3800 sqft. Private dock, workroom, storage galore. Single with lower level.
MLS Coming Soon
250 E McCaskill Road, Pinehurst
$785,000
Emily Hewson (910) 315-3324 Pamela O’Hara (910) 315-3093
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
INTEREST RATES ARE AT HISTORIC LOWS. 103 Forest Creek Drive, I, Pinehurst
$419,000
1 bed • 1 bath
Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523 MLS 204121
Your very own pied-a`-terre in the cradle of America’s golf! Suite I has great views of the water on 9 South. Tom Fazio designed courses. This suite is perfect for a getaway. An approved Forest Creek membership is a requirement of owning a clubhouse suite.
4 Kenwood Court Lot 1602, Pinehurst
$160,000 Kathy Peele (312) 623-7523
Golf front on approximately .34 acres overlooking the 11th fairway on North at Forest Creek Golf Club. A Tom Fazio designed course.
Ask us about our convenient mortgage services.
MLS 203422 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.
PinePitch Have Corkscrew, Will Travel
Dig This The Master Gardener Hotline will be back to talk you down off the horticultural ledge beginning Monday, May 3. Questions about lawns, plant care and sustainable gardening are all fair game. The Master Gardeners will be available from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., Monday through Friday at (910) 9473188. The program continues through Oct. 31.
Enjoy wine, light hors d’oeuvres, silent auctions, a wine raffle and jewelry at “Ladies Wine Out” at the Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities, 555 East Connecticut Ave., on Thursday, May 6, from 5:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. The rain date is May 13. Tickets are $20 for members and $25 for nonmembers and are available at www.ticketmesandhills or by calling (910) 692-6261.
Art Here, Art There, Art Everywhere The Campbell House Galleries’ May exhibition opens at 5 p.m. on Friday, May 7, and runs through May 28, featuring Jugtown Pottery, paintings by Sharon Ferguson, JLK Jewelry, and woodworking by Andrew Ownbey. Campbell House is at 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. For info call (910) 692-2787 or visit www.mooreart.org. Also on May 7, the Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen, will hold a reception from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. featuring the work of Kathy Lueck in an exhibition titled “Adventures with a Palette Knife.” The exhibition runs through May 27. For additional information, call (910) 944-3979. 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.
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Taste of North Carolina Mother’s Matinee Celebrate Mother’s Day with a special showing of The Sound of Music at 2 p.m. on Sunday, May 9, at the Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Tickets are $10 per person, and masks are required inside the theater. For additional information visit www.sunrisetheater.com or call (910) 692-3611.
Given Memorial Library and Elliott’s on Linden will team up for another delicious Given to Go on Tuesday, May 18. The menu will be a seasonal spring mix, grilled chicken breast, herb red bliss potato salad and assorted cookies. Pickup is from 5:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. at the Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Tickets for the fundraiser are $22 per meal and sales end on Friday, May 14. Meals can be pre-purchased at the Tufts Archives at (910) 295-3642 or by email at giventufts@ gmail.com.
Mummies Day
© 2020 MANCHESTER MUSEUM / MICHAEL POLLARD
What says Mother’s Day more than a visit to the North Carolina Museum of Art’s exhibition of the Golden Mummies of Egypt? In a series of lavishly illustrated sections, the exhibition uses the collections of the Manchester Museum to showcase multicultural Roman Egypt (circa 300 B.C.E. to 200 C.E.) where diverse Egyptian, Roman, and Greek communities and influences were blended. Visitors will learn about the three mummies in the exhibition using interactives to see underneath the wrappings, thanks to digital radiography paired with multidirectional CT scanning. The exhibition runs through July 11. For tickets visit ncartmuseum.org.
Cinema En Plein Air The Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., in Southern Pines, will be featuring outdoor movies beginning with Mamma Mia! on Friday, May 7, and Saturday May 8, at 8:15 p.m.; and Ghostbusters on Friday, May 21, and Saturday, May 22, at 8:30. Tickets for the movies are $10 per person. In the event of inclement weather, the movies will be screened indoors. For more information call (910) 692-3611 or go to www.sunrisetheater.com.
Gilded mummy called Lady Isaious. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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BE FAST to save a life. Stroke strikes fast, you should too.
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Sudden loss of Sudden blurred or balance? double vision, or vision loss in one or both eyes?
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Sudden drooping Sudden weakness Sudden speech It’s time to call 911 on one side of the or numbness in loss, slurred if one or more of face? one arm? speech, or trouble these stroke signs understanding? are present.
Learn more at www.firsthealth.org/stroke
335-50-21
Call us today for a free home value estimate!
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910-693-3300 |
@CBAofthePines
130 Turner St. Ste A, Southern Pines | 100 Magnolia Road, Pinehurst | 455 SE Broad Street, Southern Pines
G O O D NAT U R E D
Celebrating Mom And a long, healthy life
By Karen Frye aving a special day each May to honor our mothers is wonderful. The older I get the more I realize how precious my mother is to me. I want her to be around for a long time. I make sure that she and my dad take supplements to slow down the aging process and keep them as active and healthy as possible. My parents are well into their 80s. They still live in the home they bought 65 years ago. They are self-sufficient and keep busy. I am impressed with the way they have aged. My parents have been taking nutritional supplements for about 50 years. Here are a few supplements that I have found helpful for women of all ages to stay healthy and beautiful. They are important for the men in our lives, too! • A good probiotic. The gut is referred to as the second brain. Aging, as well as poor dietary habits, will take a toll on the digestive track. A probiotic can keep your immune system strong, the brain and heart healthy, and improve some digestive issues. • Digestive enzymes. Some digestive problems stem from a lack of enzymes that begin the digestion process and break down food. Common complaints are bloating, heartburn and acid reflux. Often taking a digestive enzyme before meals can ease these symptoms. • Collagen. I recently heard two medical doctors talk about the benefits of consuming collagen, recommending it for everyone. It is one of the most effective foods for healthy skin, hair, nails, joints and gut health. It’s easy to add powdered collagen to foods and beverages, or you can make your own bone broth and get a good dose of collagen that way. • Bone strength. Women suffer from bone loss as they age. To keep bones strong, a calcium supplement is necessary, and calcium from algae is the most absorbable form. Most calcium comes from limestone, and it is hard to break down and be absorbed. Vitamin K2 and strontium assist in getting the calcium to the bones and keeping it there. • Omega 3 and 7. Omega 3 from fish oil or flaxseed will give the brain good fat, as well as zapping inflammation in the body. Omega 7 from the berries of the sea buckthorn bush will keep the hair healthy, the skin and soft tissue moist and supple, and nourish the eyes, too. These are a few suggestions to keep Mom healthy, beautiful and feeling good. What better gift for your mother than a gift of good health? PS Karen Frye is the owner and founder of Nature’s Own and teaches yoga at the Bikram Yoga Studio.
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THE RISE OF A NEW DAY AT THE COUNTRY CLUB OF WHISPERING PINES Ten months ago, golf pro JP Longueil and turfgrass expert Jimmie Murphy joined forces at Brown Golf, with the long-term goal of bringing the Country Club of Whispering Pines up to par with the best courses Moore County has to offer. As general manager at Whispering Pines, JP will deliver continuous improvement of the overall experience; while Jimmie will focus his 30 years of experience on ensuring stellar course conditions. CCWP customers now enjoy an online booking system, a selection of the newest styles and brands in the Pro Shop, and superb cuisine delivered with impeccable service at the Ellis Maples Grille.
JP Longueil, (left) General Manager of Brown Golf’s Whispering Pines and Foxfire properties and Jimmie Murphy, Course Superintendent at CC Whispering Pines.
2 Club House Boulevard, Whispering Pines, NC 28327 910.949.3000 • countryclubofwhisperingpines.com
THE OMNIVOROUS READER
Defying Mob Rule
Finding justice in the Jim Crow South By Stephen E. Smith
Ben Montgomery’s A Shot in
the Moonlight is a timely retelling of an anomalous story of a former slave who, with the assistance of a Confederate war hero, faced down the forces of white supremacy in the Jim Crow South.
On a moonlit night in January 1897 in Price’s Mill, Kentucky, two dozen “Whitecappers,” self-styled Ku Kluxers, gathered in front of the farmhouse of an innocent 42-year-old former slave, George Dinning, where he slept with his wife and their seven children, and demanded that he submit to the mob’s intent, whatever it might be. Armed with pistols and shotguns, they accused him of theft and ordered him from the relative safety of his home, stating he had just hours to abandon the 125-acre farm he’d worked years to purchase from his former owner and to move himself and his family far away from Price’s Mill. When Dinning denied the accusations of theft and refused to step outside, the mob betrayed their intentions by firing blindly into the cabin, wounding him in the arm and head. Dinning grabbed his shotgun, climbed to the second story of the house and got off a single blast in the moonlight. The shot, although imprecisely aimed, killed 32-year-old Jodie Conn, a member of a wealthy planter family. Then Dinning fled for his life, making good his escape clad only in his nightclothes. The mob dispersed, but vigilantes returned to the Dinning farm the next day, displacing the family and burning the house and outbuildings. Had it not been for Dinning’s desperate act of self-defense and his subsequent escape, his brief encounter with the mob may well have resulted in just another lynching — there had been at least 13 in Kentucky in the preceding year — but the moonlight assault at Price’s Mill turned out to be the exception to the rule. Dinning sought justice through the courts, an almost foolhardy act of audacity in the Jim Crow South. The day following his escape, he surrendered to the sheriff of an adjoining county, who took him into protective custody and moved him to Bowling Green, where he would be safe, at least for a while. When Dinning was transported back to Simpson County for trial, it appeared he might again fall victim to mob violence, but Gov. William Bradley, a Republican, ordered two companies of soldiers to guard the accused, a politically unpopular action that saved Dinning’s life. Trial was held before an all-white jury (Montgomery reproduces much of the transcript verbatim), and astonishingly, Dinning was found not guilty of murder but guilty of manslaughter. He was sentenced to seven years in prison. Even so, there was the possibility he
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
might be lynched before being transported to the state penitentiary. In 1892, 161 Blacks were lynched in the country, and only in cases where Blacks took up arms to protect defendants, most notably in Florida and Kentucky, did intended victims escape mob rule. But Dinning had acted in self-defense and to protect his home and family, engendering widespread support, even among the white community, and within a few weeks he was pardoned by the governor. But the story doesn’t conclude with Dinning’s pardon. He sued his attackers by taking advantage of a legal irregularity meant to quell racial unrest: “ . . . so long as the courts offered the veneer of impartiality,” Montgomery writes, “and Black plaintiffs could access the civil courts to seek justice, they might not revolt or boycott or march or protest other areas of discrimination.” Nevertheless, Dinning’s civil action introduced him to attorney Bennett Young, a well-known lawyer in Louisville, a hero of the Confederacy, a true son of the South who fundraised for Confederate monuments and belonged to veterans’ organizations but who had also founded the Colored Orphans’ Home Society and frequently defended people of color who had been falsely accused of crimes. The Dinning/Young legal alliance is and was a social aberration, one whose circumstances do not fit neatly into the American story, past or present. How Young managed to rationalize his divergent points of view remains unclear, but Montgomery speculates his benevolence was “coupled with white supremacy, the notion that a certain kind of power came from kindness.” Whatever his motivation, Young fought long and hard on Dinning’s behalf, and at the conclusion of initial civil action, the jury found for the plaintiff. The unlikely lawsuit — a Black man suing his white tormentors — was a success, the first of its kind in the country. The judge dismissed a few of the defendants, PineStraw
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OMNIVOROUS READER
but the remainder were assessed $50,000 in damages, $8,333.33 each, an astronomical sum at the time. Newspapers heaped praise on the judge and jury: “Whatever may be done with the judgment of $50,000, this verdict by a white jury serves notice that mob law is declining in popular favor in Kentucky, and that the State’s standards of procedure are rising,” wrote the Washington Star. “The leaven is in the lump, and it is working” — which, of course, it was not. As expected, several of the defendants claimed they were unable to pay damages — “no property found” was reported to the court — but Dinning continued suing them, extracting what little money he could and tormenting the principals until they were in the grave. Certainly, Dinning’s story of salvation and retribution is worth noting, but so are the stories of the approximately 4,400 victims who did not escape mob rule. They are acknowledged now in The National Memorial for Peace and Justice, and the publication of Shot in the Moonlight is likely, at least in part, a response to recent racial justice demonstrations and the worldwide outrage to the tragic death of George Floyd and other Black Americans who have died under questionable circumstances. Montgomery claims he scrutinized the historical record and reported Dinning’s story accurately and impartially. “I have made just a few of the very safest assumptions,” he writes, “in the service of the story.” But in his introduction, dated 2020, he acknowledges recent examples of white supremacy and racial injustice. He’s emphatic: “The problem with the Confederate flag and the granite statues of dead soldiers is that the Civil War never ended. It developed into skirmishes and entanglements. As Nikole Hannah-Jones has written, it morphed into looser, legal forms of enslavement that are just as damaging as the whip. It rages on Facebook and in classrooms and in the streets of American cities, still.” 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
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BOOKSHELF
May Books FICTION The Kingdoms, by Natasha Pulley With a little time travel, a little altered history, a little humor, a prophetic postcard and a narrator with an untrustworthy memory, there’s just something for everyone in The Kingdoms. For anyone who loved Matt Haig’s Midnight Library or Alex Landragin’s Crossings, Pulley’s The Kingdoms is a book you will not want to stop reading, and then not want to stop thinking about. Local Woman Missing, by Mary Kubica In a thrilling and satisfying read, the New York Times bestselling author and master of suspense takes domestic secrets to a whole new level, showing that some people will stop at nothing to keep the truth buried. From the heart-pounding first chapter to the twists and turns that come together at the very end, this is Kubica’s best yet. The Invisible Husband of Frick Island, by Colleen Oakley Piper’s husband has died, but she continues to act as if he’s still here, and everyone on Frick Island pretends along with her. A small-town journalist shows up for an “island life” story and discovers Piper and her “husband” Tom, and decides Piper’s story could be the making of his career. Oakley, a USA Today bestselling author, delivers an unforgettable love story about an eccentric community, a grieving widow, and an outsider who slowly learns that sometimes faith is more important than facts. Mary Jane, by Jessica Anya Blau In a coming-of-age tale set during the mid-’70s, Mary Jane is brought up in a strict, staid, traditional, run-like-clockwork household. At 14, she’s hired as a nanny in a completely unorthodox situation. Her task is to take care of the adorable 5-year-old daughter of a psychiatrist and his free-spirited wife. A glamorous movie star and her rock star husband move in with them so that he can be treated for addiction. What follows is an unforgettable summer when Mary Jane finds her stride. The Newcomer, by Mary Kay Andrews Letty Carnahan is kind and not much like her wild sister, Tanya. When her sister joined her in New York and had a lovely child, Maya, with the wealthiest man they knew, she told Letty if anything ever happened to her to take her child and run for their lives. When Letty finds Tanya dead, she does just that. They end up in a charming motel full of older snowbirds who have been there for years. Letty has to find out what happened to her sister and fast, but who can she trust? The motel owner’s son is a hot cop who is hot on her trail in a book full of twists and turns that. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Magic City, by Jewell Parker Rhodes When Joe Samuels, a young Black man with dreams of becoming the next Houdini, is accused of rape, he must perform his greatest escape by eluding a bloodthirsty mob. Meanwhile, Mary Keane, the white, motherless daughter of a farmer who wants to marry her off to the farmhand who viciously raped her, must find the courage to help exonerate the man she accused with her panicked cry. Set in Tulsa, Oklahoma, in 1921, Magic City evokes 20th century Jim Crow America while painting an intimate portrait of the heroic but doomed stand that pitted the National Guard against a small band of Black men determined to defend the prosperous town they had built. The Cave Dwellers, by Christina McDowell In a compelling family saga that takes place in the powerful social scene of Washington, D.C., teenagers and their parents live in an unspoken hierarchy inextricably linked by wealth, family longevity, political offices, scandals and secrets. Their circle is closed to outsiders until those inside society choose to open their eyes to the invisible divisions erected by exploitation over generations. Gone are the days when inherited wealth can continue without naming the evil that created it. A new generation becomes the one shining a light on themselves. NONFICTION Chasing the Thrill: Obsession, Death and Glory in America’s Most Extraordinary Treasure Hunt, by Daniel Barbarisi When Forrest Fenn was given a fatal cancer diagnosis, he came up with a bold plan: He would hide a chest full of jewels and gold in the wilderness and publish a poem that would serve as a map leading to the treasure’s secret location. But he didn’t die, and after hiding the treasure in 2010, Fenn instead presided over a decadelong gold rush that saw many thousands of treasure hunters scrambling across the Rocky Mountains in pursuit of his fortune. Full of intrigue, danger and break-neck action, Chasing the Thrill is a riveting tale of desire, obsession and unbridled adventure. CHILDREN’S BOOKS Always by My Side, by Jennifer Black Reinhardt The most dedicated friend a child will ever have is their woobie, their blankie, their stuffie. They share in joys, sorrows, worries and triumphs, and maybe, just maybe, the little people mean just as much to the stuffies as the stuffies mean to the little people. The perfect gift for a new baby or a graduate, Always by My Side is a celebration of friendship. (Ages 2-5.) PineStraw
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BOOKSHELF
Something’s Wrong!, by Jory John Jeff is having one of those days. He knows something’s wrong, but just can’t quite put his finger on it, so off he goes to find a friend to help. What he finds is not only a true friend, but also a hilarious solution to his problem. This giggle-inducing read-aloud is sure to become a bedtime favorite. (Ages 3-6.) Bear Can’t Wait, by Karma Wilson Waiting is so hard when you’re planning something exciting for a friend, and patience is a virtue Bear just can’t seem to muster in this newest installment of the delightful “Bear” series. (Ages 3-6.) The Poop Song, by Eric Litwin Everybody does it, so why not sing about it? Fun for potty trainers or just for some little kid silly time, the poop song is sure to make everyone giggle. (And yes . . . it will get stuck in your head.) (Ages 2-5.)
Golden Gate, by James Ponti Adventure, STEM and a bit of spy-thriller action combine to make the “City Spies” series the perfect choice for kids looking for a fastpaced new series. With team members from around the world joining forces and sharing their unique gifts in a magical CIA-type organization, readers won’t be able to put Golden Gate down. (Ages 9-12.) Where the Heart Is, by Jo Knowles It’s the first day of summer and Rachel’s 13th birthday. With a summer job caring for the neighbor’s farm animals, her best friend, Micah, nearby and weeks of warm weather and fun to look forward to, Rachel is living the dream. But when bad news threatens all she loves, Rachel must make some difficult decisions about who and what are really important in her life. At once sweet, silly, sad and ultimately satisfying, Where the Heart Is is the perfect summer read. (Ages 11-14.) PS Compiled by Kimberly Daniels Taws and Angie Tally.
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HOMETOWN
Young Friends
In our old days we know what it means to have them By Bill Fields
There is a beauty in friends
PHOTOGRAPH BY BILL FIELDS
that you’ve had since childhood, generational peers with whom you’ve darted around a basketball court, consumed too much beer and sweated out the college boards. These friends know what it is like to go gray or bald, to wish for a WD-40 for creaky knees, to see a parent decline and pass away.
In the last couple of years, I’ve discovered the pleasure of a different kind of friend, someone young enough to be my son. I’ve always tended to have older friends. There were a couple of reasons. One was the influence of my sisters, who are 12 1/2 and 14 1/2 years older than me. I pored over their copies of the Lance, the East Southern Pines High School yearbook, well before I got to Pinecrest. After I immersed myself in golf, I played with plenty of folks who could have been older siblings or benevolent uncles and will always be grateful for those relationships. The rounds and practicerange sessions with these older friends were as enjoyable, and likely more meaningful, than all the hours with contemporaries who were searching for the secret, too. When I began to freelance for NBC Sports in 2017 as a researcher/ statistician in the main booth, eventually traveling to a dozen or so golf tournaments a year for the network, I was thrust into a new and hectic world. I’d done lots of media tasks over the decades — reporting, editing, photography, on-camera appearances talking about golf history — but TV production was a different beast and took some acclimation. My friend Harrison, who will turn 30 this year, already was an old hand. He comes from a family with a history in sports television going back to his grandfather being instrumental in the development of ESPN. As I discovered, lots of golf TV folks start out as runners on the crew, working long hours helping everyone else get their jobs done. It is invaluable experience, and for those who are motivated and talented, can be the gateway to bigger things. NBC producer Tommy Roy, who has won dozens of Emmys, started as a runner, and so did quite a few of our colleagues. Harrison began as a runner and has been a scorer/statistician for a handful of years, usually working with tower announcer Gary Koch. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
He knew the ropes I was trying to learn, but not long after he had helped me find the right trailer or truck — and trust me, there are a lot of them — we started spending time together outside the TV compound. I have three nephews — another tragically passed away when he was 27 — and while we certainly get along, geography doesn’t help foster relationships when you live hundreds of miles apart. Harrison and I have become good friends in part because we regularly spend time together when we’re on the road. We’ve shared fantastic cheesesteaks in Philadelphia and mediocre Indian food in the Chicago suburbs, sipped bourbon on an Orlando hotel balcony, played golf on a legendary Texas public course, Lions Muny in Austin. I chipped in at dusk on the 18th to win our match, then we went to a barbecue joint with another colleague, Mike, to chow down on ribs and brisket. Harrison and I have broad conversations. He has seen a lot of the world and has traveled much more than I had by my late 20s. We talk a lot about work, as people do, but our talks cover plenty of ground. It has been refreshing to get the perspective of a smart person half my age. When I had to leave a tournament early to travel to see my ill mother in her last months, Harrison was a supportive sounding board over a meal before I went to the airport for my cross-country, red-eye flight. We kid each other in the easy way that happens between good friends. I forgave him after he called my driving “soft” as I cautiously turned left onto an Atlanta freeway ramp. Sometimes, he even listens to me. When Harrison showed me the footage of a toast he offered at his sister’s wedding, I was pleased that he had followed my advice: Be brief and use humor. On a table by the water in a Connecticut park last year, Harrison, his mom (whom I hadn’t met) and I ate pizza and salad and drank pinot grigio out of paper cups as the sun went down. There was a long week ahead for the two of us at the U.S. Open, but the takeout meal in a scenic spot was a perfect calm before the storm. When we aren’t working together anymore — when we aren’t comparing airline upgrades or grading the telecasts — I have no doubt Harrison and I will keep in touch. Life throws you curve balls when you get older, some of them mean, but our friendship has been one of the good surprises, and I’m grateful for it. PS Southern Pines native Bill Fields, who writes about golf and other things, moved north in 1986 but hasn’t lost his accent. PineStraw
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IN THE SPIRIT
Batching Tips How to be fast and flavorful
By Tony Cross
Now that our
PHOTOGRAPH BY TONY CROSS
state’s restrictions are easing up and spring is in full effect, more and more folks are venturing back out to their favorite restaurants and watering holes. It’s nice to have a form of normalcy back, isn’t it? I know the word “normalcy” has been thrown around a lot lately, but if you’re a foodie (and drinkie) like I am, you appreciate what it means.
Despite the dumpster fire that last year left us, it is interesting to see how different businesses got out of their comfort zone and adapted to the chaos that quickly became everyday life. My business has been rooted in our slogan “flavors to go,” and we definitely had our run this time last year — we delivered over a thousand growlers of our carbonated cocktails to help medicate cabin fever sufferers. Batching is what we do. Now that we’re almost back at full capacity in bars and restaurants, I’d like to offer a few ways where you can get those drinks out fast while being able to connect with your guests for a longer period of time.
Punch
I still don’t get why more places don’t have punch on their menu. Once you have a great recipe in place and get it balanced, you should be able to make other concoctions around your base recipe. There are myriad examples in cocktail books and even more on websites
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
that will give you the specs you need. It’s up to you to understand why these ratios work and go from there. I read online a few weeks ago that a good rule of thumb for punch goes like this: 8 parts spirit; 5 parts water; 3 parts sour (citrus); 2 parts sweet (sugar cane, demerara, gomme syrup, agave, etc.); 1 part bitters or bitter liqueur; 1 part salt. For your sweet and sour, it always pays to start with oleo-saccharum. A trick I learned from bartender Jeffrey Morganthaler is to vacuum seal your oleo-saccharum syrups ahead of time and place them in the freezer. This way you can just pull out whichever one you need for the punch of the day. Let it thaw and build your punch. Not only is a good punch delicious, it allows speed of service. Getting out cups of punch during a busy shift is effortless and allows you or your bartender to interact with your guests without running behind the bar like a crazy person.
Bottle
My business, Reverie Cocktails, started offering bottled cocktails to go last year for a few reasons. First, we know our flagship carbonated cocktails are not for everyone, and we wanted to attack sales from a different angle. Second, I know firsthand how delicious stirred cocktails are when they’ve had time to marinate. So, we started by delivering bottled old fashioneds and Sazeracs, and then graduated to martinis. Yes. Martinis. I amaze myself how dumb I can be. How in the hell did I not offer these years back when I tended bar? One of the issues with a martini is you want it to be very cold when it arrives in front of your guest. Problem is, on a busy night it might take a server longer than usual to get that cold martini out. And even if it’s cold when it arrives, your guest’s second half won’t be as cold as the first. PineStraw
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IN THE SPIRIT
We are built of persistence and resilience and so are you!
That is, unless they throw them back like I do daiquiris. Enter prebatching. Being able to pull a bottle of martinis out of a freezer, and just pour into a chilled glass (be it a coupe or traditional martini glass), is a little bit of heaven. Your cocktail is now piercingly cold. Not only is it frigid, but now it will stay cold in that glass way longer than making it from scratch. I’m pretty confident in saying that it’ll be a long time before I make one at a time at my place from here on out. It’s too easy and yummy to just pour from the bottle. It’s one of life’s simple luxuries. Don’t forget to dilute your stirred cocktails with good drinking water, and in the case of martinis, you’ll need to scale back on the H2O, or your bottled cocktail will freeze.
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This is not a shocker. It’s my business’s expertise. To be honest, cocktails on tap can be easy, yet painful at times. If you’re starting out for the first time, start simple. Just because you have a great cocktail on the menu doesn’t mean it’s going to go well on draught. One does not simply take the ingredients and multiply by 50 and then fill up a keg and go to town. Our customers often ask, “Can you do this drink? It’s killing our bartenders on the weekends.” Sometimes we can, sometimes we can’t. Try a modified highball cocktail (vodka plus soda) on draught. Add some of your favorite bitters and/or a liqueur to match. You will soon see what flavors amplify, and how you’ll need to balance it out. A quick rule of thumb: Do not serve anyone a 2-ounce-at-a-time pour of carbonated spirit or they will light up like a Christmas tree. And make sure the water you’re using is delicious. It makes all the difference. I have other suggestions, too, and if you’re interested in starting your own draught cocktail program — or just have questions — feel free to contact me via the email address below. PS Tony Cross is a bartender (well, ex-bartender) who runs cocktail catering company Reverie Cocktails in Southern Pines.
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THE KITCHEN GARDEN
Bearing Fruit When Sandhills strawberries rule
By Jan Leitschuh
With apologies to John Lennon, in the Sandhills, strawberry fields are not forever.
So, COVID-sluggish berry lovers will need to shake up their socially-isolated calendars and get a move on to catch this seasonal Sandhills delight. At the beginning of May, the local berries are hitting their stride; by Mother’s Day, they will have hit their peak. Thereafter, the volume will tail off rapidly. Get moving! You didn’t plant your own strawberries last October, did you? Luckily, local growers did, and their efforts are now bearing fruit. Literally. Producers usually have enough volume to open sometime in April (usually mid-April). As the weather warms, the berries begin to ripen in large, rapid waves. Lovers of strawberries cherish this brief, abundant window of juicy berry sweetness and load up. Local strawberries? What’s the big deal? Aren’t there strawberries in the supermarkets nearly year-round? Indeed there are, and a nice thing that is, too. These ruby-colored fruits brighten up yogurts, cereals, salads and garnish cheese plates all year. But we’ve all bitten into a large, robust store strawberry, mouth a’watering, and felt . . . bleh. Disappointment. Where was the tender sweetness? Where was the melting, fragrant juice? The taste did not live up to its visual promise. While a colorful, store-bought strawberry is certainly better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, that berry can’t hold its own against the vibrant, local product. Why? Because most store berries are bred to be shipped long distances, rather than for taste, sweetness and tender juiciness. The Sandhills berry, however, is harvested and distributed locally — a touchy business, given the fragile, sweet tenderness of the locally preferred varieties like Chandler, Camerosa and Sweet Charlie. Sandhills berries are hand-picked at the peak of ripeness, rather than early to be shipped, and its sugars have longer to develop. This ready-ripeness means you have to eat or process them The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
right away. Given their tender juiciness, Sandhills berries are not going to hang around for weeks like a half-ripe, storebought strawberry. Few things are more sensual during the lusty month of May than a fresh Sandhills strawberry, eaten at room temperature (preferably with a splash of cream, whipped or otherwise). In Roman times, it was the fruit associated with the goddess Venus. Ancient Romans often made offerings of the fruit at her temples. Food of the goddess. Shouldn’t some grace your springtime table? Strawberries and cream is a traditional Wimbledon snack. More than 55,000 pounds — over 25 tons — of strawberries are consumed every year during the championships. Local farmers markets and farm stands should have buckets of ripe strawberries as the month opens. (Again, don’t tarry. The glorious flush comes, peaks and flies past in a flash!) Local You-Pick farms are great fun if a jaunt to the country with the kids appeals — just know that in 2021, the You-Pick status, as they say on Facebook, is “complicated.” Last year producers did the picking and sold through car windows, lines of autos snaking through the farm roads as eager-but-cautious customers lined up and paid tribute to the Sandhills strawberry during peak times. This year may be a combo of the above, plus some greater openness later in the season. Plans remain fluid. Popular Highlander Farms on N.C. 22, for example, is currently planning on doing drive-up, said producer John Blue, as well as walk-up. This plan will be re-evaluated as needed. “We are not planning to open the You-Pick right now,” he says, “but we will see as the season progresses.” Best bet is to contact your favorite fruit stand for info. Many of PineStraw
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the local stands and markets have Facebook pages and phone numbers. Besides the deliciousness and fragrance, strawberries are the exotic superfood you’ve been consuming your entire life. The delicious fruits are chock-full of useful, health-promoting compounds like folic acid, vitamin C, fiber, anthocyanins and quercetin. The medical conclusion is that the wellstudied strawberry supports cardiovascular and metabolic health, and the abundant flavonoids may help reduce hypertension and general inflammatory markers. Strawberries actually have half the sugar as the same volume of blueberries. Part of their sweet sleight of hand magic has to do with that heady, nose-filling fragrance. Strawberries are fairly acidic, however, so brush your teeth after to avoid gum irritation and tooth sensitivity. Don’t wash your Sandhills strawberries until you are ready to eat or process them. Any wetness will rapidly promote mold. Best to store them in the fridge crisper for a day or two at most. In other words, plan ahead before bringing them home. Once you have your plan in mind, rinse and hull berries. Hulling means nipping out the green stem bit at the top. Now what? My weakness is a strawberry pavlova, an elegant confection on a light meringue base. Whipped cream is piped into a “nest,” then sweetened berries are spooned into the middle. A dollop of cream and a berry on top crowns this fabulous, fattening dessert. It has it all — sweet creaminess, crispy-chewy meringue and, of course, glorious, fresh berries at their peak. Classic strawberry shortcake is a close second, however. Biscuits, cream and berries — how can you go wrong? Unless, of course, you prefer strawberries and lemon pound cake. Strawberry preserves are easy enough to do. There are many YouTube videos that can walk you through the process. Freezer jam is even simpler. No canning knowledge needed. (Recipe below or use the recipe on the Sure-Jell pack.) Easiest is probably maceration. Combine hulled, sliced strawberries with sugar in a large glass or ceramic bowl and toss to combine. Set aside to “macerate” — basically stew in their own sweet, red juices. Cover The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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THE KITCHEN GARDEN
bowl with plastic wrap and place in fridge. Eat with a spoon, ladle over yogurt and desserts or combine with cooked rhubarb. Roasting strawberries is an unusual way to use up large quantities, and yields a rich, jammy, deeply flavored sauce. The heat of the oven concentrates the fruit’s natural sugars, so no additional sugar is needed. Rinse, hull and halve or quarter your berries. Arrange in a single layer on a parchment-lined baking sheet and roast at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 20 minutes. Spoon into a container while still warm, or the thickened, roasted juices can set up on the pan. Bruised berries? Rinse them and toss them in daiquiris or smoothies, or puree and freeze. Ice cube trays make a nice unit of “berry” when a cube or two might be needed for a spring salad dressing, or to smarten up a fruit drink. Strawberry ices and “popsicles” are a healthy dessert alternative. To symbolize perfection and righteousness, medieval stone masons carved strawberry designs on altars and around the tops of pillars in churches and cathedrals. The least we can do is place a righteous bowl of local perfection on our tables this month.
Easy Strawberry Freezer Jam “Springtime in a Jar” 4 cups granulated white sugar 1 quart fresh strawberries (see exact measurement below) 3 ounces (one pouch) liquid fruit pectin (Certo is readily available at most larger supermarkets) 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (Yes, this is a lot of sugar, but necessary for the jam to “set” — use less if you don’t mind a more syrup-like creation or search out sugar-free type pectins at your store.) Stem and crush strawberries with a potato masher. Don’t try to use a blender or food processor for this step as you want some small pieces of strawberry to remain. Measure exactly 2 cups prepared fruit into a large microwave-safe bowl. Add the 4 cups of sugar and stir well for 1 minute. Microwave bowl on high power for 3 minutes. (Mixture will not cook but will become warm enough for sugar to dissolve.) Remove and stir well for another minute, to avoid graininess. Allow strawberry mixture to sit for 2 hours, giving it a good stir about every 30 minutes. Take a taste to make sure the sugar is dissolved. If it still has a bit of a grainy texture, stir for another minute or two until sugar is well-dissolved. (When the sugar is well-dissolved, the mixture will actually deepen in color and lose its “cloudiness.”) Combine the liquid pectin and lemon juice in a small bowl. Add to strawberry mixture and stir 3 minutes. Fill containers to within 1/2 inch of top — mixture will expand a bit in the freezer. Let stand at room temperature 24 hours. Refrigerate up to 3 weeks or freeze up to 1 year. Thaw in refrigerator. — From The Café Sucre Farine. PS Jan Leitschuh is a local gardener, avid eater of fresh produce and cofounder of Sandhills Farm to Table.
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T H E C R E AT O R S O F N. C .
Found Magic
For Shannon Whitworth, the muse lives and breathes in the mountains of Brevard.
By Wiley Cash • Photographs By Mallory Cash
“My art is how I see the world,” says art-
ist and singer/songwriter Shannon Whitworth. “And my music is how I hear it.” Just outside of Brevard, she is walking across the expanse of grass between her barn studio and the renovated farmhouse she shares with her husband, Woody Platt of the Grammy Award-winning Steep Canyon Rangers, and their young son. The late afternoon is rainy and cool. In the distance, mist hangs over the mountains like a gray, gossamer blanket. In other places across the South, spring has begun to reveal itself, but here in the mountains, winter is still hanging on. 46
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Whitworth didn’t always live in the mountains that have become so synonymous with her music and art. She was born into a bustling home with two older brothers in Fairfax, Virginia. By the time she reached high school, her restless nature prompted her to head south to Hilton Head, S.C., where she spent summers with her Grandma Nancy, an Old South dame who owned a ladies’ clothing boutique and lived in a lamplit home where every room had a clock radio playing martini music. The soundtrack to Whitworth’s summers in Hilton Head were comprised of Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra and the clink of ice in Grandma Nancy’s cocktail glasses. To the girl who’d been raised in an active household in a busy city, the freedom of Lowcountry life was both mysterious and emboldening. “I went down there playing with Barbie dolls,” Whitworth says, “and I came back home wearing a training bra.” Like many people who grew up in the 1990s and who would later become artists, Whitworth was an angsty teen who filled her journals with reams of poetry. Her parents had always been music fans, and she grew up listening to James Taylor, Paul Simon, Crosby, Stills & Nash. When her older brother began dating a woman who played the guitar, Whitworth realized she could set the words she’d written to The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
melodies. The woman — who would eventually become her sister-inlaw — showed her how to play chords, and by the time Whitworth began college in Boone, she was already skipping class to play music. “I was consumed by it,” she says. And then someone gave her Lucinda Williams’ first album. That’s when she had the vaguest of notions that, just maybe, she could become a musician too. “I didn’t know a lot of women who were doing this,” she says, and she didn’t know if she could do it either. After a series of moves and adventures took her all over the country, a camping trip to Brevard in 1999 finally convinced her to settle down and give music a try. “I was moonstruck by Brevard,” she says. She is sitting by the window in her living room, the sun having fallen below the mountains just above the confluence of the headwaters of the French Broad River. Night is creeping across the fields. “It felt like there was a crystal under the Earth that was pulling me here. I always thought I would end up back on the beach somewhere, but this place spoke to me,” Whitworth says. “I knew I would write a lot of songs and paint a lot of paintings here. And if I could do those things, then I knew this was where I needed to be.” She spent a few months in the offseason living in the old cook’s cabin at Camp Carolina, stuffing envelopes and mailing promotional material for the camp and working on her music. “I must’ve written a hundred songs,” she says, but she was too self-conscious to perform them in front of anyone aside from her brothers and a small circle of musician friends. “And then a friend of mine told me about a dive bar in West Asheville that hosted karaoke,” she says. “The people who came to karaoke were old country people. Nobody The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
knew who I was or even cared. It felt safe.” The first song she ever performed in front an audience? Dolly Parton’s “Jolene.” “Dolly Parton was my spirit animal of sorts,” says Whitworth, whose own singing voice is lower and warmer but just as resonant as Parton’s. “I figured that if I could transform myself into someone like that, then I could do anything. It was like putting on body armor.” Another major influence while Whitworth was finding herself onstage was Dwight Yoakam, especially his album dwightyoakamacoustic.net, which features him playing his greatest hits with only an acoustic guitar. Whitworth would play his album and record it on a borrowed four-track while recording herself singing harmony and playing accompanying instruments, like mandolin and banjo. She would then layer in her recorded parts with Yoakam’s music. “It was as close as you could get to being in a band with Dwight Yoakam while also being a total weirdo at the same time,” she says. The first time Whitworth performed with her guitar in front of a live audience was during a jam night at Jack of the Wood in Asheville. That’s also where she met the other founding members of a bluegrass band that would soon become The Biscuit Burners. Over the next few years, the band would go on to release two acclaimed albums while crossing the country on what seemed like a never-ending tour. But despite all the band’s success, it was their first show that perhaps had the greatest effect on Whitworth’s life. On that night, Woody Platt set up the band’s sound equipment. While it would take a while for friendly exchanges to become flirtations and for flirtations to become love, by 2006, Whitworth and Platt were a couple, and Brevard was their home. After years on the road PineStraw
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T H E C R E AT O R S O F N. C .
as a touring musician, Brevard felt like a sanctuary to Whitworth. She left The Biscuit Burners and released a spate of highly-praised solo records, and she soon found herself building her life around two things: her relationships with the people she loved and her art. “Painting reminds me of how I feel when I sing through a microphone,” Whitworth says. “It’s a way of reporting my feelings, and it’s also a place where I can dig deep into healing. It all used to be a way to work through angst.” Since having a child, Whitworth has shifted to creating art from a source of light. “I’m going to a different place when I work now, and I’m still trying to sort that out. I’m learning to use these new tools that motherhood has given me. Sometimes I don’t have the words or the music, but the colors are always there.” Over the past year, Whitworth’s paintings have found homes with a stable of interior designers across the South, and her work has been featured in galleries and shipped all over the country to private collections belonging to the likes of Edie Brickell and Paul Simon. “When I first began painting, all of my art was coastal, but after settling into the land here and having our son, I just started seeing this landscape so clearly, and it’s reflected in my work. I’m living it,” Whitworth says. “People always tease me about believing in magic, but I always tell them, ‘You’ll believe in magic when it finds you.’” She has risen from her seat at the window, and she is now moving through the house, turning on lamps, their soft light meeting the sound of Patsy Cline’s voice floating from an unseen source somewhere in the kitchen. Whitworth uncorks a bottle of wine and pours a glass.
Whether it’s a lamplit room in Hilton Head, a festival stage on the other side of the country, or a light-filled studio where the dewdamp mountains loom in the distance, Shannon Whitworth has always found magic. Or perhaps it has always found her. PS Wiley Cash is the writer-in-residence at the University of North CarolinaAsheville. His new novel, When Ghosts Come Home, will be released this year.
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C H A R AC T E R S T U DY
Broadway on Broad Street All dressed up and on the go
By Jenna Biter
“Scarves, shawls, black and
PHOTOGRAPH BY JOHN GESSNER
white for My Fair Lady when they do the Ascot scene.” Mary McKeithen points to one garment, then the next. “And purses from all eras.” Storage bins mound with handbags and clutches. “Black gowns.” She cruises down the aisle past clothing rack after clothing rack, then stops. “I cover these up to keep the sun from fading them through the window.” She pulls the corner of a cherry-red dress out from beneath a drop cloth. “Right here is more Renaissance. And, of course, shoes, shoes, shoes.” Vintage heels vie for cubby space on a far wall. She reaches the end of the first aisle, already whirling and grabbing at garments in the next — dresses for Oklahoma!, sequins, and turnof-the-century chiffons for the song “Shipoopi” in Music Man. “Right here is all of the Jackie Kennedy era. I’ve done shows mostly at colleges with these,” she says, waggling a skirt suit back and forth. “See the Jackie suits? And then here are more sequin things and we start back at the ’50s . . . ” She advances a rack, passing through time as she goes, “ . . . ’40s . . . ” and then “ . . . ’30s.” She points at a group of white and trills, “Here are the angels and ghosts.” Fa la la. A few swollen aisles and hundreds of costumes later, she laughs. “And this is only half.” Only half of the upstairs! Costume jewelry, wedding dresses, men’s suits and tuxedos in all sizes, and band and military uniforms fill the rest of the upstairs of Showboat Costumes and Collectibles in
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Southern Pines. For the most part, McKeithen stores all things theater on the second floor of her shop, and the Halloween costumes, Santa suits, mascots — all the stuff that can be rented à la carte — on the first. She ballparks the building: “I think it’s about 11,000 square feet.” Showboat Costumes and Collectibles at 712 S.W. Broad St. in Southern Pines, is McKeithen’s shop and warehouse, but it’s also her studio. “These are all ribbons and bows and cloths and sequins and trims and everything,” she says, fingering the drawers that edge a wellloved worktable. “I have a little room back here, this office, because sometimes about 4 o’clock in the morning, I’ll get an idea.” She points to a full-sized bed in the corner. “I get something in my head, and I’ll get up and come to work and then get tired.” But not that tired — she’s embellished, reconstructed or made ex nihilo many, if not most, of the costumes in Showboat. For the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences’ production of From the Mountains to the Sea, she magicked up convincing turtle, catfish and salamander costumes. And with the help of her husband, Jere, and a professional upholsterer, she even made Madame Garderobe, the wardrobe in Beauty and the Beast, with a set of fully functional drawers. “I kind of do more of the design,” McKeithen says. “My daughter Marcie is real meticulous, and she always dots the i’s and crosses the t’s for me. Makes sure everybody’s got shoes, everybody’s got socks, everybody’s got . . . ” She trails off. “I couldn’t do it without her.” If it weren’t for Marcie, McKeithen wouldn’t even be a costumer. “My daughter was in a Madrigal dinner at Pinecrest High School, and her costume was better than the other kids’,” she says, thinking back to 1993. “They called me and asked if I would embellish some of the other costumes, and I said, ‘Sure, I’ll have a go at it.’ And then they started getting me to do their plays.” PineStraw
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P L E A S U R E S O F L I F E D E P T.
Before that, McKeithen’s only experience with theater was as a high schooler. She grew up in Carthage with her parents and five siblings in the house that used to share property with the jail. “My daddy was the chief of police until I was in my mid-teens,” she explains. McKeithen attended Carthage High, and, as a junior, she got the lead in the school’s production of Mama’s Baby Boy. “My boyfriend at the time gave me a million-dollar check for a contract to Hollywood when the show was over as a joke,” she adds, laughing. Then, as a senior, she got the lead again, but the school’s auditorium burned down before they could perform the play. “Other than that, I never knew or cared anything about theater at all. I didn’t care about theater until Marcie started. Amazing how one little thing can change everything,” she says. “Then I got hired by the Temple Theatre — I did them for 12 years — and I did Pembroke, Campbell, all the high schools around here. I’ve done shows in Washington, New York. Let’s see, I worked for the Highlands Theatre, and I did an outdoor drama in Kenansville.” McKeithen has been bringing Broadway to the Sandhills and beyond for nearly three decades. She juggles between 12 and 15 shows a year, about eight of them in the spring, and the rest in the fall and winter. When asked how she balances them all, she says, “If I read a book, I have to complete it. I mean, I just can’t wait; I have to read it all. But, when it comes to a project, I’m able to say, ‘OK, I’ll do this a little bit over here and then this a little bit over there.’ I can do projects in stages.”
McKeithen applies her multi-tasking mentality to life writ large — not in a stressed-out-frazzled kind of way, but in a how-much-life-can-Itake-in kind of way. She’s had photography and cross-stitching hobbies and became an auctioneer and appraiser, along with Jere. “He said it was cheaper for me to go to auctioneer school with him than for me to have two weeks to shop,” she says. They collected a whole houseful of colored glass, instruments, copper cookware, opera glasses and dolls for their two granddaughters who live next door. “Oh, and when we were young, we had a band. We sang music and played up in Greensboro,” she says. “That’s how we earned money to go on vacations.” She still emcees at a bluegrass festival near Raleigh. McKeithen has been a Moore County commissioner, president of the Moore County Hospital Auxiliary, and served on the FirstHealth Board of Directors. Until recently, she and Jere both had pilot’s licenses — they even have a 900-foot runway on their farm. “We live on a farm that’s not really a farm,” she says. “We’re not trying to raise anything but pine straw.” She’s a bit of a comedian, too. “But my favorite thing to do,” she admits, “is I have two John Deere tractors, and I mow the farm. Relax on my tractor, mow the grass.” Mind you, the farm/not-farm is about 175 acres, but she mows in stages, too. PS Jenna Biter is a writer, entrepreneur and military wife in the Sandhills. She can be reached at jennabiter@protonmail.com.
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OUT OF THE BLUE
Hands Off My Keepers! In defense of not quite hoarding
By Deborah Salomon
I’m not a hoarder but have always owned a modicum of . . . well, things.
Not big things. Not expensive things. Just non-essentials found at Goodwill-type outlets, yard sales. This includes books, dishes and things to hang on the wall. They are NOT junk. Some are interesting, artistic. Many represent places I have been, people I have met or written about, like the tin can artist. Others fall into categories, thus qualifying as “collections.” For decades I collected masks, including a papier-mâché lady from Venice and a clay one from Florence, both mementos of 10 glorious days in Italy. Yet I also see value in now extinct Hellmann’s mayo glass jars with metal screw-on lids that hold a quart of homemade soup for a sick friend. Where is Andy Warhol when you really need him? However, as a recreational observer of humanity I know the difference between save (including collect) and hoard. Frugal people save. Eccentrics hoard. People who stockpile twist ties don’t deserve a classification. The pandemic blurred definitions, leaving the late-night comedians reams of toilet paper to ridicule. Keep laughing, guys. Should COVID circle back you’re not getting any of mine. But I will share an inventory of what’s stored in the corners, pantry, closet, even the trunk of my car: The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Jars: Besides Hellmann’s I hang onto glass maple syrup containers, with finger hooks at the mouth. Faux canning jars filled with pasta sauce are nice for storing anything, wet or dry. Remember the jelly jars that became kiddie glasses, often fought over? Kraft spreadable cheese still comes in them but the kiddies, even the grandkiddies, are long grown and gone. Canned goods: I cannot resist a sale on canned tomatoes — crushed, stewed, whole, herbed Mexican or Italian — which I use for many recipes. A tower of cans fills a corner of the pantry because you never know who’s coming to dinner. So, should the virus provoke another quarantine and you’ve got an urge to make spaghetti sauce, I’m your gal. Dishes: I saved a few dishes from every set I’ve owned, a mishmash of family history, plus single bowls, plates, mugs, soup crocks, cake plates I couldn’t resist. Definitely a hoard, but precious. Socks: I could outfit a centipede. Being from a frigid climate, I know the value of warm feet. About 40 years ago I found a pile of men’s cashmere sock “seconds” (mostly unpopular colors) in a department store basement, for $2a pair. I bought at least a dozen. My husband wore them, my kids wore them, I wore them skiing until they disintegrated. I still have one pair, in red. I’m told the devil wears red socks. Me, too. Buttons: Many sweaters, coats, blouses and other apparel come with an extra button or two, in case of loss. Great idea. Couldn’t PineStraw
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possibly throw those away although I can’t recall using a single one. Sometimes I rifle through the jar, trying to remember the long-gone garments they matched. Boxes: Internet shopping means boxes . . . handsome, strong cardboard hopefully recycled after this single use. I want to adopt each one for kitty condos, pirate ships, footstools. When my kids were small, I would drive around on garbage day, looking for a washing machine or dishwasher carton reinforced with wood to keep in the garage for a rainy-day fort or playhouse. Business cards: On my desk, four piles held together with rubber bands — probably 300 cards total. I only use two or three but what fun to flip through them, trying to recall when and why they were obtained. Magazines: Everybody laughed when I hoarded/collected years and years of The New Yorker covers. Then, after moving into a new house I wallpapered one bedroom wall with the first batch and, in another house, an entire powder room, where guests sat a while and exited laughing. Black pants: A girl can’t have too many: wide-leg linen, skinny stretch with or without stirrups, tailored synthetic, yogas, charcoal denim, crushed velvet gauchos, marled sweats for all seasons, all occasions formerly served by the little black dress. Goofs: When LED and fluorescent light bulbs took over I read that regular incandescents would be phased out. No! The newbies hurt my eyes. So, I laid away a supply from 15-watt nightlights to 3-way floor lamps. Well, the purge never happened. So I’m set for life. Things I wish I’d hoarded: Money. Things I wish I’d collected: Comic books, from the ’40s and ’50s, now worth big money. Spring cleaning is the collectors/hoarders nemesis. We divest, reorganize. Things I’ll throw out: Any of the above? Not a chance. PS Deborah Salomon is a writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She may be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.
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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.
A Southpaw’s Lament On the wrong side of history
By Scott Sheffield
It’s high time somebody spoke up
for us. We have been neglected and marginalized for far too long. We, the people of the left-handed persuasion. Depending on your source, left-handed people comprise roughly 10 percent of the world’s population. Nobody knows the troubles we’ve seen — unless you’re one of us. Try walking a day in our gloves.
It started during the Roman Empire. The Latin word for right was “dexter” and the word for left was “sinister.” As time went on, dexter started taking on the connotation of “proper” and “correct,” while sinister became synonymous with “unlucky” and even “evil.” This perception of the word sinister, and by extension the people who were left-handed, reached a pervasive level during the Middle or Dark Ages, when belief in the existence of sorcery and black magic was at its peak. Abnormalities were viewed as vile, even dangerous. Because only a small percentage of the population was left-handed or “sinistral,” left-handedness was considered an abnormality, and those who exhibited the trait were shunned and vilified. A negative view of left-handedness persisted into the 20th century. A couple of my elementary school teachers tried to get us lefthanded kids to write with our other (wrong, right?) hand by scolding, or worse, a rap on the knuckles. No amount of chastisement was sufficient to compel me, or many of the other brave resisters in my class, to change hands. As time went on, the slights piled up. I was dismayed to learn that “left-handed compliment” basically meant an insulting statement disguised as praise. I discovered that many ordinary consumer products were made specifically for righties, or “dextrals.” Scissors, for example. The blades are fiendishly aligned to benefit the right-handed. If you doubt me, trying using your left. How does that make your thumb feel? And what about the common soup ladle? The lip is always on the left side, the way a right-hander would pour. If left-handed folks do that they end with untidy consequences. Manual can openers are righthand, too. In yet another power move the handle must be held in the left hand while the user turns the crank with the right. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
How about clothes? Belts, for example. I once bought a belt with a decorative buckle, but if I slid the belt strap through the pant loops to the right, which is the natural way for a left-hander to put on a belt, when I got around to fastening the belt to the buckle, the design was upside down. The belt was meant to be put on from right to left. And shirts. A standard man’s shirt has its buttons on the right, buttonholes on the left. It’s designed to be buttoned from the right. Trying to button my shirt with my left hand ties my fingers in knots. That goes for suit jackets, too. Yes, yes, standard women’s shirts have their buttons on the left, but that’s not to help out left-handed ladies, it’s just tradition. Tools, machines and even some weapons are configured for the dextrals. Not long ago, when I was checking out my order at the grocery store and when the payment device asked me to sign my name, my hand bumped into the plastic COVID shield that separates shoppers from the clerk. It was nearly impossible to write my signature. Was this a plot hatched by Apple Pay? There have been some bright spots for me as a left-hander. On a business trip to San Francisco many years ago, one of my co-workers and I went to Fisherman’s Wharf for a seafood dinner. Afterward, we attempted to walk off our sumptuous meals by strolling around the piers. At Pier 39 I noticed a sign written in bright yellow script that said “Lefty’s.” Below the name, in somewhat smaller, bright purple block print, were the words “San Francisco Left Hand Store.” Everything in the store, EVERYTHING, was left-hand oriented. It was the materialization of Homer Simpson’s neighbor, Ned Flanders’, Leftorium. I was like a kid in a candy shop. I had to be dragged out of the store by my right-handed friend. While surfing the net recently, I was happy to see that Lefty’s is still there. Of course, we were thrown a bone with International Lefthanders Day. It was originally observed in 1976 to celebrate the uniqueness and differences of left-handed people. You 90-percenters may not celebrate it, but it’s a national holiday in my house. In fairness, I have to give grudging credit to this right-handed world for one thing — out of necessity I’ve become quasi-ambidextrous. But let’s hope that the only left-handers who are considered vile or dangerous today are the ones who are, well, vile or dangerous. PS
Scott Sheffield is a contributing writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. He may be reached at ssheff@nc.rr.com. PineStraw
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B I R D WA T C H
Catbird Seat Spring return of a special bird
By Susan Campbell
Our area is home to scores of
avian species during the summer months. One of which, the gray catbird, often goes unnoticed. A cousin of the northern mockingbird, it is also a mimic: a bird that learns the songs of others to advertise territory and to impress a mate. Catbirds have no melodious tune of their own — just a string of copied phrases. Nonetheless, this is a special bird, one that I anticipate each spring as the vegetation springs back to life and the days lengthen.
Although superficially resembling a blackbird given the overall dark grayish-black plumage, gray catbirds have a slender bill and a long tail. They have a velvety black cap as well as a striking rusty rump and, if you can get close enough, you will notice their deep red eyes. These are truly handsome creatures. The bird’s name comes from the fact that, in between phrases of borrowed song, they utter a “meeew” call that is very cat-like. Some might say that their skulking habits seem very feline as well. Perhaps it is their relatively large size that requires a secretive lifestyle so as not to be grabbed by a predator. Catbirds’ bulky stick nests are a challenge to locate, usually well hidden in thick vegetation Gray catbirds return to parks and gardens by early April. As with other long-distance migrants that spend the winter in the tropics, they journey northward on long, nighttime flights. Their destination is typically close to the spot where they themselves hatched. Once they arrive, although catbirds will instantly start to sing and display, they seem in no hurry to get down to breeding. It will be July before the first fuzzy The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
youngsters appear. The adults remain quite aggressive throughout the season, chasing competitors such as mockingbirds, northern cardinals and American robins. They will even attack their own reflection in windows when they are nesting close to a home or vehicle. These birds are generalists with a wide-ranging diet through the course of the year. During the summer months, they feed mainly on insects. Individuals are known to eat small lizards as well. This is yet another bird which requires an abundance of invertebrates to raise its young (typically two broods of three or four). Therefore, chemical applications, whether pesticides or herbicides, are a very real threat to the species’ breeding success. Gray catbirds will switch to eating fruit come fall as berries of all kinds become abundant. They may be attracted to feeders that offer suet or even oranges, apples or cranberries. These birds will readily consume mealworms as well. Not all gray catbirds will return to Mexico or Central America in the winter. Some spend the colder months along the coastline of the southeastern United States. If you travel to the Outer Banks or Wilmington between October and March, do not be surprised if you hear that distinctive “meeew” emanating from thick maritime scrub. However, individuals overwintering in areas with human development are increasingly susceptible to hazards such as habitat loss, vehicle collisions and predation by cats. Distractions associated with foraging at a time of year when food is less plentiful are more likely to be fatal. We certainly need to be aware of the threats that affect our avian friends such as gray catbirds. Too many species are struggling as a result of habitat alteration, invasive species and wide-spread chemical use. So please consider joining me: The seemingly small actions we can take in our own yards will add up to a significant improvement in the welfare of central North Carolina’s songbird populations. PS Susan would love to receive your wildlife observations and/or photos at susan@ncaves.com.
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SPORTING LIFE
A Day to Remember An ice-cold beer and a bale of hay
By Tom Bryant
Mother took the photo.
Three good old boys. She liked to say we were her good old boys. We were kicked back on the little screen porch right off the kitchen. In the photo on the left is my brother, Guery. The guy in the middle is my brother-in-law, Mike. Relaxing proudly on the right is yours truly. The foreground of the picture is a classic, probably found only in the South: a ’50s kitchen table with half a watermelon, accompanied very importantly by an Old Milwaukee beer. This photo was taken during one of our annual vacations at the beach. Ocean Drive Beach, South Carolina, that is. A tradition that started with my grandparents back in the ’20s. Their farm has been part of our family dating back to 1830, when the old plantation house was built. Living in the low country of South Carolina, the only way to beat the summer heat and ravages by mosquitoes and biting flies was to spend as much time as possible at the coast, where the cool ocean breezes helped make the relentless summer heat bearable. It was a simple plan. Granddad would load the farm truck with enough provisions to last for weeks: canned vegetables, hams, crates of live chickens, and every kind of provender possible. After the truck was loaded with goods, Mother and her seven siblings would climb aboard, and with Grandmother in the front seat, they would head to the beach. Now Granddad had a farm to run, so naturally he couldn’t stay. He would unload the truck and the family and head back home
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
to the farm, only returning on weekends or whenever there was a break in the constant chores of growing crops and raising livestock. When we grandchildren came along, the tradition continued. Summer meant the beach. Mother and Dad would herd us into the family car, and we would make the trek to Ocean Drive, Crescent Beach, Cherry Grove or Windy Hill for a week or two, enjoying the gentle ocean, summer breezes and laid-back atmosphere of coastal living. It’s ironic, but even in the early ’50s, Myrtle Beach was considered to be too big and raucous for our family, and we never ventured farther south than Windy Hill. After Linda and I were married, our first summer vacation was spent with the family. Mother, recognizing that we probably weren’t flush with cash, invited us to join her and Dad along with my brother and sisters at Ocean Drive. We jumped at the invitation. So the tradition continued. When my brother and sisters got married, it was only natural that their spouses join the crowd, and every summer we enjoyed a mini family seaside reunion. My grandparents passed away in the ’60s, and Mother inherited their house and its surrounding fields. The old, antiquated house was in serious disrepair, having been abandoned by my grandmother when she moved to smaller quarters. It took several years, but Mother was a patient, determined woman. Her memories of growing up on the farm added to her determination to restore the family homestead. That was part of the reason the three of us good old boys ended up holding forth on the little breakfast porch that summer. It’s simple really. Mother had reintroduced cows to the farm pastures PineStraw
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SPORTING LIFE
and needed hay for their winter food. What better free labor than the three of us to haul the hay to the barn? The adventure was preplanned. Mother called me the week before we were to rendezvous with the other members of the family. She asked my opinion about how the hay task would be received by the rest of the folks, and I heartily approved. She then talked to my sister in Florida, who also thought it would be a great event. The idea was to take a day from the beach, head back to the farm, about an hour away, and go to work. My Uncle Tom had inherited cleared farmland from Granddad’s estate, and he was already a full-time farmer of tobacco, soybeans, cotton and wheat. He had all the equipment necessary to harvest hay. Before we arrived, he baled the hay and waited for our labor to get the hay to the barn. When I pulled in the drive to the old house, we saw him out in the field with the tractor and hay wagon hooked up and ready to go. It was a chore. It took all day to fill the barn, but fill it we did. I don’t think we could have pushed one more hay bale into the attic of that ancient outbuilding. Linda and my sisters and the kids stayed at the beach while we loaded, hauled and hoisted all day. Mother was at the house preparing fried chicken and all the trimmings for supper, which naturally included a watermelon and most importantly a cooler full of cold beer. Mike provided the beer, Old Milwaukee. It was excellent and one of the few times I drank that brand. I’m not sure they even have that label anymore. That week at the beach and the one day on the farm remains one of the family’s fondest memories. Mother was glowing. She was doing what she loved, spending time with her children. After supper when we were getting ready to drive back to the beach, she and I were sitting on the long, front porch. Guery and Mike were inside watching TV. My dad, Monroe, had passed away years before from a job-related illness, lung cancer. This was before all the government oversight monitoring industry for health regulations. Mother never remarried. “You know what, Tommy?” She was in her favorite rocker. I was in the swing. We were looking out across the fields. A full moon was slowly rising. “Your daddy would have loved to have been part of this day.” I was kinda choked up and could only mumble an answer. She slowly stood and stretched and said, “Let’s get those boys moving and go on back to the beach. I bet that moon is beautiful over the ocean.” The reunions continued for a few more years. But then the children had children, and those children had more children, and the meetings at the coast went away like the outgoing tide. Mother passed away at the age of 99. During her later years, whenever I was around her for any length of time, she would invariably reminisce about summer and beach vacations. Those were some of her happiest memories. PS
Tom Bryant, a Southern Pines resident, is a lifelong outdoorsman and PineStraw’s Sporting Life columnist.
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L
Golf on Foot The delights of having a bag on your shoulder
By Lee Pace
Howard Lee was an administrator
in Gov. Jim Hunt’s administration in 1977 when he initiated what would become a walking trail of some 1,200 miles from the North Carolina mountains to the Outer Banks. “To be able to get out here and see the trees and the flowers and to be able to see the animals and the natural areas is just so relaxing and so soothing,” Lee said on the 40th anniversary of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail in 2017.
Lee finds exercise and solace on another trail, too — a golf course. One April afternoon in 2019, Lee and I were walking the fifth fairway at Old Chatham Golf Club just east of Chapel Hill, with the green complex set amid a hillside resplendent in white and pink azalea bushes at full bloom. “If you can’t be relaxed looking at this kind of beauty, I don’t know,” said Lee, 84 at the time. “And that’s the beauty of walking, whether it’s a trail or the golf course, you learn so much when you can commune with nature. There’s always something to appreciate, a bird or flower or something in nature.” Over four hours and 6 miles you come to understand how Lee, the former mayor of Chapel Hill and N.C. state senator, is a poster boy for playing golf the old-fashioned way — on foot. Slinging the bag over his shoulder after one tee shot: “I enjoy carrying the bag, so I just think as long as someone my age can walk, it would be a sin not to do it.” Strolling up to another shot: “I’ve been struck by the number of young people who are riders. They just jump in the cart and off they go. I hate to see that.” And on his surprise at seeing newfangled golf carts equipped with a means to power up a cellphone: “For what good reason would you put a USB port in a golf cart? Isn’t the whole point of golf to get away from your cellphone for a few hours?” Howard Lee and I sing from the same hymnal — with choruses abounding on the joys of walking the golf course and avoiding, at all costs, planting your bum in an artificial contraption. And I found over the last three years there are many more of our ilk. Which is why I’m delighted this month with the release of my book Good Walks — Rediscovering the Soul of Golf at 18 Top Carolinas Courses. The coffee-table format volume was published by University of North Carolina Press and is built around essays, photographs and historic
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
artifacts from a blend of private, resort and daily-fee courses around the Carolinas. The goal was to weave the architecture, ambience and culture into an essay about each of the courses, tipping the cap to those already in the choir of the walking golfer and offering a welcoming gesture to those on the outside. That there is even a hook for a volume like this is a sad commentary on the state of golf in America. Walking golf? What’s the angle? Of course you walk when you play golf. I played Mid Pines in Southern Pines one afternoon in June 2019 with Ran Morrissett, an avowed walker and traditionalist and co-founder of the Golf Club Atlas website built around stories, photos and conversation about golf architecture. We arrived at the golf shop, checked in and were on the way to the first tee when a young attendant approached and offered to put our bags on a cart. “It’s a walking sport,” Morrissett told him in a pleasant but direct and matter-of-fact tone and never broke stride walking toward the first tee. Later we were striding down the first fairway, enjoying the day. “I get nothing out of riding through corridors of condos or houses. That will not lift my spirit. Walking will.” I play golf for a myriad of reasons. One is the never-ending challenge and the occasional pat on the head from the golf gods with that sub-80 score. Another is exercise. A third is the meditative quality of walking the ground and embracing nature. Enjoying the companionship of my playing partners is important as well — all the better if that’s split three ways while walking along rather than spending four hours-plus with one guy in a cart. Betting? Lame jokes? Hearing a guy tell some careworn story when it’s his turn to hit? Pounding beverages? Those don’t even register. One of golf’s earliest appeals was its health-giving benefits, the player walking some 5 to 6 miles over varied terrain, making strength and endurance a key element of the sport. Too often today that component has been lost, with many golfers playing in a default mode of mandatory riding in motorized carts. I remember setting a last-minute round in Pinehurst many years ago, getting a tee time and two others to play. One of them showed up and said he’d invited a fourth, which was fine. “Might as well fill up the carts,” he said. Apparently, it did not even register that someone would prefer to walk. PineStraw
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July18 30 June The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L
The book tells the stories of a handful of top golf experiences across the Carolinas, beginning with the oldest, Palmetto Golf Club in Aiken, S.C, and ending just as the 21st century beckoned and Eagle Point in Wilmington and Old Chatham were christened. Eighteen seemed like a good number for a golf book, right? The front nine clubs are pre-World War II, the so-called “Golden Age” of golf architecture when Donald Ross and Seth Raynor and their contemporaries had neither the handicap of modern environmental restrictions nor the convenience of dynamite and dozers. The back nine begins with the story of Myrtle Beach’s Dunes Club, a course that helped ignite that coastal area’s meteoric golf growth over the second half of the 20th century and continues with many of the upperechelon clubs that mirrored the Carolina’s sporting and economic evolution into 2000. The blend of courses leans toward the vintage, as many modern courses are stretched out for real estate purposes and lack a passionate roster of golfers treading on foot. I wanted to canvass all nooks of the Carolinas and weave in the great architects — from Ross to Raynor, from the Joneses (Robert, Trent and Rees) to Pete Dye and Tom Fazio. I was gratified over the three years I spent writing and editing the book to see more and more clubs relaxing policies on mandatory carts and restrictions on trolleys. Pinehurst, Kiawah and Sea Pines, the venues of three courses featured in the book (No. 2, the Ocean Course and Harbour Town) all allow walking on any course, any time, any mode. Roaring Gap in the North Carolina mountains now allows walkers on weekend mornings. Biltmore Forest in Asheville has al-
ways had an outstanding walking culture and now devotes one room in its already cramped clubhouse to trolley storage. “Mandatory carts is just not the way to do it,” says John Farrell, Sea Pines director of golf. “If you’re physically able, the way to play is to walk. It’s the easy way to roll. Here we’re at sea level, the proximity of greens to tees is good, it’s better socially, and obviously it’s better physically. There are so many benefits to walking I can’t see why you wouldn’t.” The benefits, indeed: Converse with everyone in your group, not just your cart mate. Cool your emotions in private after a bad shot. Notice every nook and cranny on the course and all the architectural details you miss from the edges. Feel ravenous after four hours of stout exercise. I could go on and on. Which I did, actually, in Good Walks. I’ll leave you with the dedication and an invitation to pick up the book and enjoy the game as those old gnarly Scots did before combustion engines: “To fellow golfers who’ve cherished the ground underfoot, the clink of clubs on their shoulder, the sun on their face and wind in their hair, the ducks by the lake and hawks in the sky — and to those waiting in the wings.” PS Lee Pace’s Good Walks is available at bookstores and golf shops across the Carolinas and from uncpress.org/ book/9781469662862/good-walks/.
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I Swear
May ����
This won’t hurt. I’ll always love you. You’re perfect. I do. I will. I didn’t. It wasn’t — You’ve got it all wrong. I only want what’s best for you. This will be good for both of us. Nothing can be done. You’ll never change. It wasn’t my fault. I’m only trying to help. No one’s to blame. It will be better soon. — Debra Kaufman
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A Celebration of Mother’s Day Gracefully doing the hardest job in the world
By Jenna Biter • Photographs by Tim Sayer Photographed at Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities
President and CEO of El Sistema USA
Katie Wyatt
El Sistema is the colloquial name for a Venezuelan program that was founded in the 1970s to bring world class music instruction to underprivileged kids, and the movement has since spread worldwide. “The whole model of El Sistema is like an Olympic development program for music,” says Katie Wyatt, the founding president and CEO of El Sistema USA, a nonprofit organization that supports all El Sistema-inspired programs nationwide. “It’s way beyond your general music class, and the idea is to offer that kind of access and opportunity to all kids.” But El Sistema USA isn’t all that Wyatt does. She is the Carolina Philharmonic’s principal violist, supports the Weymouth Center in an interim capacity, teaches at Duke University, and is mom to 2 1/2-year-old Petra. “We’re buddies; we do a lot together,” Wyatt says of her daughter with a smile. “A lot of modeling for her is — this is who I am, this is something to aspire to be. It’s just the idea that you can do a million things. You can have this entrepreneurial mindset, which I think is this mindset of curiosity and challenge and discipline. The motto of El Sistema is ‘tocar y luchar,’ to play and to strive — and I am big on the luchar.” Petra is, too. “She is just rough and tumble. From the minute she could walk, she ran.”
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Lead Guide at Moore Montessori
Micaela Murphy
Until last fall, Micaela Murphy and her family lived in Austin, Texas. But after student teaching observation at Moore Montessori, she was offered a job and the trio came to live in the Sandhills. “By study, I was in biology. I just loved the sciences and that was my path,” says Murphy, who’s now a lead guide at Moore Montessori. She pivoted away from the sciences after her daughter, Maliha, came home from school one day. “She was like, ‘Mom, where are all the teachers that look like me?’ She was like, you know, the brown skin and the curly hair that look like me.” Murphy had a conversation with one of Maliha’s teachers, who said there just aren’t a lot of Black teachers in Montessori. “Well, surely that’s not the answer,” Murphy reflects. And, if that was, it didn’t seem like a good one. “So, I was like, ‘OK, well, there’s not a lot?’ I’ll go ahead and become one.” And she did. “Long story short, I became a Montessori teacher, and my daughter encouraged the path that I’m on now.” Murphy describes her daughter, who’s now 9: “She’s everything that I’m not, all the best parts of a person, untouched by adult interference. And I say that because she still has this beautiful take on the world. She still has this humanitarian spirit. She still has this ‘But what if we can?’”
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Owner of Against the Grain Shoppe
Ashley Tramontin “I remember one time Reid told someone that I didn’t know — he was like, ‘Yeah, my mom owns a store,’ and, it was right after we opened, and it didn’t really feel real until he said that,” says Ashley Tramontin about her 7-year-old son. “I mean, I know he’s aware and paying attention, but it was so special to hear him be proud about it.” Tramontin started making and revamping furniture after hers was damaged in a move to the middle-of-nowhere Kansas. She recalls, “I started doing furniture for myself and then friends and built it into an Etsy store.” When she relocated to the Sandhills, she started selling her furniture in the area and eventually opened Against the Grain Shoppe to sell her wares and those of other local makers. Reid might be among them someday soon — he recently made and sold his first bench. But what he really enjoys is the back end of the business. “He loves to count the drawer for me,” says Tramontin, laughing. “He knows there’s supposed to be X-amount of money in here, and then he can figure it out, and then he can yell at me for not having it correct, and he loves it.”
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Registered Nurse, Quality Department at Moore Regional Hospital
Jane Claire Dawkins Jane Claire Dawkins is going on her 16th year of nursing — she’s now the quality coordinator for sepsis at FirstHealth Moore Regional Hospital. “There are certain core measures that we have to meet as a hospital, and my job is making sure that we’re compliant,” says Dawkins. She’s no longer providing bedside care in her day-to-day, but she has been administering COVID vaccines a couple of times per week at the community clinic. “It’s my way of giving back,” she says. Dawkins started her career in pediatric intensive care units. After she and her husband were married, they decided to make their way back to his hometown in the Sandhills. “We just felt called, really, for the sense of community,” she says. They liked the idea of raising their kids, Mary Britt, age 8, and Will, who’s just turning 5, in the area. “Mary Britt is super mature, and she’s super outgoing,” Dawkins says. “Will, he’s kind of like, he’s just my sweet little guy.” She smiles. As Dawkins’ family grew, her nursing career evolved, and she’s proud of the work/life balance she’s struck. “It’s definitely a dynamic field,” she says of nursing. “So many opportunities to work more or less, at the bedside or behind a desk, just depending on where you are . . . the season of life.” The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Owner of Workhorse Fitness & Yoga
Tiffany Fleeman
“Regardless of what you try to shield them from, I think she was pretty aware that it was a tough year,” Tiffany Fleeman says about her new business, the pandemic and her 9-year-old, Olivia, or Liv, as she and her husband, Joel, call her. After a 2 1/2-year upfit, Fleeman opened Workhorse Fitness & Yoga in November 2019, just in time for the COVID pandemic. “This year was just such a hard time, teaching her not to give up. I mean, there were so many times this year — it’s hard to admit this — but giving up, it crossed my mind,” she says. “The business was new, and it was tough, but looking back, that’s never the example I want to set.” Liv is already resilient and blazing entrepreneurial trails just like her mom. “She has, through all of this, started her own little business.” Fleeman smiles. “She has this little plant business, and so we do that together. I help her make her little Marimo moss balls and these air plants that she sells in our store.” Workhorse has an inhouse retail shop, fittingly called LIVWell. Fleeman continues, “She’s like, ‘Mom, you owe me this amount.’” She laughs and shakes her head. “She’s going to be a great businesswoman someday.”
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Occupational Therapist
LeAnn Bailey About 13 years ago, LeAnn Bailey closed her eyes, jabbed her finger at a map and happened to hit North Carolina. “I was finishing up my master’s degree in occupational therapy and had never lived outside of the state of Florida,” Bailey says. But because of that fateful jab, she met her husband while interning here in the Tar Heel State. Now years later, she works as an occupational therapist, driving daily to her patients in Moore’s surrounding counties, and goes home to a camper that she and her family are living in while their new house is being built in the Seven Lakes area. “I always thought I was a tiny living person like, ‘Oh, I can do that.’ I’ve learned very quickly now my life is not meant for tiny living. The 43-foot camper with three humans and two dogs gets a little . . . ” She laughs. Their 9-year-old daughter, Addie, has adjusted well to their interim housing. She seems to adjust well to anything; she just made friends with two kids while her mom was talking. “She doesn’t meet a stranger,” Bailey says. “She’s energetic. She is fun-loving, intelligent yet challenging at the same time, very intuitive.” She also likes to cheerlead and horseback ride. Addie runs over. “How would you describe your mom?” I ask her. “She’s really hardworking. She helps a lot of people, and I like it.” PS The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Right By Bill Fields
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PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA ATHLETICS
Doing It
On the field, on the court, in life
PHOTOGRAPH COURTESEY OF CHARLES WADDELL
Charles
Waddell was only in elementary school, but he wanted to do things the right way. He
wanted to stand out. He and his older brother, Frank, tagged along with their father, also named Frank, as he took care of his early morning janitorial duties at The Citizens Bank and Trust Company on Broad Street in Southern Pines, where he had a part-time job in addition to a full-time maintenance position at Carolina Power and Light. After helping empty trash cans and other light chores, Charles would sit down to do his homework. “He would write it out in pencil,” Frank recalls, “and while my dad and I would continue cleaning, he would use one of the typewriters in the bank and try to type it out.” Sometimes brother Frank, nearly eight years older, who had taken a year of typing, would take over and finish because the family had to go home and eat breakfast before the boys went to school. “He always had an interest in everything,” Frank says. “You knew he would be a good student, and he certainly developed into a fine athlete.” Fifty years ago, Charles Waddell graduated from Pinecrest High School, where he was all-state in football and basketball and excelled in the shot put, finishing second in the state in 1971. When, in 2013, the North Carolina High School Athletic Association named the top 100 male athletes in its century of existence, Waddell made the list. He led the Patriots to a state 3-A basketball title. Two of his fellow all-state hoops stars? Durham’s John Lucas and Shelby’s David Thompson, who would go on to star for Maryland and N.C. State, respectively. “In the East-West All-Star basketball game, on one play I was bent down just a little bit and he came flying by and I was looking at the The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
bottom of his shoe,” Waddell says. “Thompson was unreal.” Waddell’s prep experiences were a prelude to further success in college. He earned a football scholarship to play for coach Bill Dooley at North Carolina. While in Chapel Hill, he also played two seasons for Dean Smith’s basketball Tar Heels and was a member of the UNC track and field team. He was the university’s first athlete to letter in more than two sports since Albert Long Jr. (track, football, basketball, baseball) in the 1950s. Although there have been about a dozen dual-sport Carolina lettermen since Waddell graduated, he is the last to letter in three sports (receiving three letters in football, two in basketball and one in track). The versatility led to him receiving the Patterson Medal, UNC’s highest athletic honor as a senior in 1975, joining a distinguished roster of recipients including Vic Seixas, Charlie Justice, Lennie Rosenbluth, Larry Miller, Charlie Scott, Don McCauley and Tony Waldrop. “He was just always trying to succeed, and he had the skill set,” says Craig Gordon, Waddell’s best friend since they were 4 years old in West Southern Pines. “He could compete in just about anything. He didn’t run very fast, but he was quick for a big guy. We were tracking together until seventh or eighth grade, then he started stretching out. He went on and did some great things. But Charles tried to be the best he could be from a young age.” Waddell is 68 now, special assistant to the athletics director at the University of South Carolina, where he has held various posts in the athletic department since 2006. “I’ve been down here a long time, longer than I anticipated,” he says of being a Tar Heel in Gamecock country. “But I’ve gotten to develop some pretty good relationships with folks, the student-athletes and people I’ve worked with at the university.” PineStraw
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He ended up in Columbia with his wife, Sandra, and their three children (Christa, Cassandra and Cortez) after earlier positions in business and college athletics following a four-year, injury-hampered stint (neck, knee, shoulder) as an NFL tight end with the San Diego Chargers, Seattle Seahawks and Tampa Bay Buccaneers. “It was really disappointing because I was on injured reserve three of the four years,” says Waddell. “You start getting hurt . . . I tell kids now that you really are a commodity in pro sports. If you have a car that breaks down on you three out of four years, you tend to get rid of it because there’s a new model coming out every season. I love the game, but it does take its toll. I’m reminded of those days just about every morning when I get out of bed.” Frank was an early role model for Charles. He was on the West Southern Pines High School state championship basketball team as a freshman in 1959 and when the Yellow Jackets were runner-up in the state his senior season of 1962. “My brother was a really good athlete,” Waddell says. “I would say he was my first coach. He taught me just about everything. And he played on a state championship team and a state runner-up team in basketball just like I did.” Both were kept on track by the guidance of their parents. Frank and Emma Waddell didn’t tolerate mediocrity in the classroom or any foolishness outside of it. “Charles was always very studious, and his mom made sure every day the priority was school,” Gordon says. “His parents were very
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straight-shooting folks — everybody in the community pretty much was that way and looked after one another. If I did something, my mother would know about it before I got home.” At a time when Blacks weren’t allowed to play organized youth baseball in town, Emma Waddell created uniforms and formed a team for Charles and his friends in their neighborhood. “Our mother was instrumental in forming the ‘Honey Bees,’” Frank says. “They didn’t really have anybody to play — I think they went to Raeford once — but she made sure they had a team.” Waddell looked up to Charlie Scott, the first Black basketball player at North Carolina, and a certain Boston Celtics center. “Bill Russell has always been my idol,” Waddell told the News and Observer when he was a teenager. “I’ve always admired the way he wanted to win. He was never satisfied with being second.” West Southern Pines High didn’t have the resources to field a football team, so Waddell made the tough decision as a sophomore to attend East Southern Pines in 1968-69 prior to the consolidated Pinecrest campus opening in the fall of ’69. He played football and basketball for the Blue Knights. For the first time the predominantly white school agreed to schedule a game with the Yellow Jackets, who for years had wanted the chance to square off against the East side team. With Waddell, already 6-foot-3 and 210 pounds and a force down low, the Blue Knights won the game. He would go on to average 25 points and 15 rebounds as a high school upperclassman. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
PHOTOGRAPH COURTESEY OF CHARLES WADDELL
Waddell starred for the Blue Knights of East Southern Pines
“It was a little painful to go to the East side, and that basketball game was a tough one because West Southern Pines had a rich basketball history and had wanted a game with East Southern Pines for a long time,” Waddell says. “But I think it was the right thing for me to do. I was able to acclimate to the integrated situation a year before Pinecrest opened. And high school football helped with integration, because that was one of the first things that brought people together.” As a senior, Waddell led the Patriots to a 7-2-1 record in the fall of 1970, which remained the school’s best football season until 2009. He went to Carolina on a football grant but with an understanding that he could try to play basketball too. His first year in Chapel Hill was the last year that freshmen could not play varsity football and basketball. The youngest Tar Heels, including Waddell, who stood 6-5 and weighed more than 220 pounds, still practiced with the main team. “I got matched up with Charles quite a bit in practice,” says John Bunting, a senior All-Atlantic Coast Conference linebacker in ’71 who was the Tar Heel head coach in the 2000s. “He was a freshman going against a senior, but he was not intimidated, and he was very strong and athletic for a true freshman.” Ted Elkins was a defensive end from Charlotte who arrived on campus with Waddell and, like Bunting, went up against him in practice. “It seemed I was always paired against Charles,” Elkins says. “He was a big guy and a great athlete. He wasn’t real demonstrative, but he didn’t need to be. He could be pretty dang quiet. On defense, I tried to fire up
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PHOTOGRAPH COURTESEY OF CHARLES WADDELL; 1974 TEAM PHOTO FROM THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA ATHLETICS
PHOTOGRAPH FROM THE UNIVERSITY OF SOUTH CAROLINA ATHLETICS
Waddell has been at The University of South Carolina since 2006
everybody, but Charles just lined up and would nail you.” The ’71 season was marked by tragedy as lineman Bill Arnold from Staten Island, New York, died after collapsing during a hot afternoon practice in early September. It was an era when water and rest periods weren’t customary during football practices even when the weather was oppressive. “I was usually OK in the heat, but there were some practices I lost anywhere from 12 to 16 pounds in water weight,” Waddell says. “When I would run, my shoes would be squishing because they were soaking wet.” He caught 41 passes for 571 yards and seven touchdowns for the Tar Heels, including a school-record three TDs against Clemson, and earned All-America honors as a senior when he and Elkins served as co-captains. He joined the junior varsity basketball team as a sophomore but got moved up to Dean Smith’s varsity squad and played in 11 games in 1973. (He also participated on the track and field team in the shot put and discus that spring.) Waddell played basketball as a junior, too, but broke his wrist in a game against Virginia and wasn’t in Carmichael Auditorium on March 2, 1974 when Carolina pulled off a magical comeback against Duke, rallying from eight points behind with 17 seconds left to tie the game on a long Walter Davis shot, then defeating the Blue Devils 96-92 in overtime. Charles was in Kenan Stadium, on the sidelines of a spring football practice. “I was listening to the game with some of the trainers on the radio of an old station wagon they used to bring stuff out onto the field,” Waddell says. A fifth-round selection by the San Diego Chargers in the 1975 NFL draft, Waddell returned to Chapel Hill in the late 1970s when his NFL career was over. He worked with Paul Hoolahan as one of UNC’s first strength and conditioning coaches. The duo also oversaw academics for Tar Heel athletes. In the early 1980s, Waddell decided to pursue an MBA while working part-time in game operations. He picked up additional income when Roy Williams, then an assistant basketball coach charged with deliverThe Art & Soul of the Sandhills
ing The Dean Smith Show to television stations each weekend during hoops season, shared the duty with Waddell who earned $100 every other week. “They produced the show in Greensboro, so the weeks Roy didn’t do it I would pick up the tapes there at 3 or 4 o’clock on Sunday morning,” Waddell says. “I’d drive to the TV station in Asheville, drop one off there, then go on to Charlotte and leave one there, then come on home to Chapel Hill. Getting a hundred dollars was a big deal in those days.” After securing his graduate degree, Waddell worked in investment banking at NCNB for seven years. When former Tar Heel basketball player Jim Delaney became commissioner of the Big 10, he hired Waddell to be an assistant commissioner. “I was enjoying investment banking but figured I would get back into college athletics at some point,” Waddell says. He worked at Big 10 headquarters in Chicago for four years before returning to North Carolina and a position with Richardson Sports and the Carolina Panthers in part to be closer to his mother after his dad passed away in 1990 (Emma Waddell died in 2017 at age 95.) The Waddells especially loved watching the son they nurtured to succeed compete during his college days. “They really enjoyed my career at North Carolina,” Waddell says. “They got to be really good friends with some of my teammates and their parents. They went to all our home games and a lot of the road games. I know the first time either one of them got on an airplane was when they flew out to watch us in the Sun Bowl in Texas. I know they enjoyed that experience.” Waddell’s business and athletic administration career also gave his parents satisfaction. When he surveys it all — from the boyhood games in the neighborhood and the town parks, to UNC, the NFL and beyond — he’s pleased. “I interviewed for some athletic director jobs over the years but never got one,” he says. “But I’ve had a good career and feel good about the things I’ve achieved.” On and off the field, he has stood out like the typewritten homework he hunted and pecked at dawn all those years ago. PS PineStraw
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A Grave
Question
On the trail of Flora MacDonald’s offspring By Bill Case
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PICTURED ARTIFACTS ARE COMPLIMENTS OF BILL CAUDILL AND THE SCOTTISH HERITAGE CENTER, ST. ANDREWS UNIVERSITY, LAURINBURG, N.C.
If
you are a Showtime viewer, odds are you are familiar with the show Outlander, a time travel odyssey in which the 20th century female protagonist, Clare, after touching an ancient standing stone, is mystically transported to mid-18th century Scotland. Though married in her 20th century life, Clare weds Highland Scot Jamie Fraser, and given the circumstances, her bigamy seems excusable. Clare and Jamie share adventures in a time of historic upheaval as the Jacobite Rebellion is in full swing. The charismatic Charles Edward Stuart, popularly known as “Bonnie Prince Charlie,” is engaged in an ultimately futile quest to restore the Stuarts as Britain’s monarchial rulers. Primarily due to the Stuarts’ adherence to the Catholic faith, Parliament had removed Charles’ grandfather, James II, from the throne a half-century earlier. The Bonnie Prince courts support for his cause from French royalty and Scottish Highland clans in hopes they will back his effort to dethrone England’s current king, George II, and restore the Stuarts. Clare knows her history and is fully aware that the uprising is not only doomed to failure but will also result in devastation to the clans but, as is usually the case with transtemporal travel sagas, the Frasers’ various schemes to alter history backfire, making the foretold result inexorably more certain. The Battle of Culloden on April 14, 1746, represents the denouement. The Highlanders are routed, and their catastrophic defeat effectively brings an end to the rebellion. But Outlander does not address the post-Culloden story of how a young Scottish woman cleverly aided Bonnie Prince Charlie’s desperate effort to escape British capture. At the time of Culloden, Flora Macdonald was 24 years old. She was living off the northwest coast of Scotland on the Isle of Skye with her financially well-off mother and stepfather, Hugh Macdonald. One acquaintance described her as “a woman of soft features, gentle manners, kind soul, and elegant presence.” On June 20, 1746, Flora was visiting her brother at his “shieling” (huts where cattle farmers stay when tending to their livestock) on the neighboring island of South Uist. It so happened that the on-the-lam prince was hiding nearby in the company of two aides, Capt. Conn O’Neill and Neil MacEachen. The king’s forces were hot on Charles’ trail, having organized search parties to apprehend the man they called the “Young Pretender.” Flora’s stepfather, Hugh Macdonald, secretly sympathetic to the Jacobites, informed the prince through a third party that Flora could be useful in affecting Charles’ potential escape by boat to Skye, where arrangements were in the works to transport the prince to France and freedom. O’Neill, leaving behind Charles and MacEachen in the hills nearby, greeted Flora at the shieling late one night, and conspiratorially inquired whether he could “bring a friend to see her.” Flora responded, “Is it the prince?” Minutes later, Charles was before her. A plan had been concocted. Flora would sail home to Skye in an open boat accompanied by MacEachen and Charles, who would be disguised as a woman and
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use the alias “Betty Burke.” The “maid’s” purported purpose for traveling to Skye would be to spin wool for Flora’s mother. Flora’s stepfather, a double agent in the affair, as he also occupied a position in the British military, would arrange passports for the three travelers. Numerous facts of Flora’s life have been subject to varying interpretations by historians, and her eagerness to participate in the plot is one of them. According to MacEachen, Flora agreed to the proposal immediately. O’Neill, however, reported that the young woman was far more ambivalent because of the obvious dangers of the enterprise. He claimed he overcame Flora’s hesitancy by declaring she “would be made immortal by such a noble and humane deed on her part in the Prince’s distressing circumstances.” Flora proved to be no shrinking violet. She adamantly rejected the prince’s demand to include O’Neill on the voyage — she carried passports for just three passengers — and just as sternly refused Charles’ plea to carry a gun.
The
crossing to Skye was launched from Benbecula on June 28. The voyage is recalled in the lyrics of the haunting ballad that opens each episode of Outlander — the “Skye Boat Song.” Strong westerly winds, high waves and fog plagued the rowers, and the boat was fired upon by hostile militia as the craft sought to make land at Skye. But Flora and her companions managed to avert disaster and put in elsewhere on Skye, where Alexander MacDonald of Kingsburgh took charge of Charles. When the grateful Bonnie Prince bade goodbye to Flora at Portree, he is supposed to have said, “I hope, Madam, we shall meet in St. James’s yet.” In short order, Charles jumped aboard another boat to Raasay from where he would eventually make his way to France. Notwithstanding his narrow Above: A small locket containing a piece of heather, reputedly worn by Flora MacDonald. Left: Seed pearl brooch owned by Flora MacDonald, reputedly contains a lock of hair from Prince Charles Edward Stuart which was given to Flora upon departing from Skye in 1746. PineStraw
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The MacDonald tartan
escape, Charles Stuart was destined to live in exile the remainder of his increasingly sad and dissolute existence. Flora, however, failed to elude the authorities. After word leaked regarding her role in Charles’ escape, she was detained and held as a prisoner, eventually taken to London in December 1746. Aside from a brief stint in the Tower of London, Flora, though technically under house arrest, enjoyed relative freedom in the city, visiting friends and entertaining visitors. O’Neill’s prediction that assisting the Bonnie Prince would lead to her lasting fame was coming true. She became a cult hero to Jacobite devotees. One woman asked Flora whether she could “have the honor of lying in the same bed with that person who had been so happy as to be guardian to her Prince.” Even royal partisans found themselves charmed by Flora. Frederick, Prince of Wales, paid her a personal visit. Released from detention in July 1747, Flora returned to Scotland, resettling on Skye. In 1750, she married Allan MacDonald of Kingsburgh, the son of the man who had taken custody of Charles following the prince’s escape to Skye. Flora and Allan would parent seven children. Five years after their marriage, Allan succeeded his father as manager of their patron’s estate holdings. Unfortunately, he lacked business acumen and that, coupled with a cattle disease epidemic, led to Allan’s dismissal around 1766. Facing increasingly difficult circumstances, the MacDonalds decided in 1774 to follow the example of fellow countrymen who had emigrated to North Carolina. Allan and Flora, along with sons Alexander and James, daughter Anne, her husband, Alexander MacLeod, and their children sailed to Wilmington, North Carolina, aboard the Baliol. Flora and Allan’s sons Charles and Ranald, engaged in military service for the crown, did not emigrate. Son John and daughter Fanny remained in Britain. Flora and Allan first settled at Cross Creek, present-day
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Fayetteville. They subsequently moved farther west, acquiring a 475-acre plantation about 5 miles from Norman, North Carolina. Soon after Flora and Allan moved to their new estate, the Revolutionary War began. A majority of North Carolina’s Scottish Highlanders sided with the crown, as did Flora and Allan. Flora’s segue in allegiance from the Jacobites to the Hanoverian monarchy may appear puzzling, but most Highlanders had little stomach for taking on the powerful British Army following the debacle of Culloden. They figured allegiance to King George would be their best bet for avoiding a conflict that would disrupt their efforts to start over on the frontier. Allan accepted a commission with the Royal Highland Emigrant Regiment, commanded by yet another “Mac,” Donald MacDonald. Allan’s sons Alexander and James, as well as son-in-law Alexander MacLeod, likewise joined the unit. The royal governor, Josiah Martin, ordered the regiment to gather at Cross Creek, then march to Brunswick, where it would link up with a brigade of British troops arriving from the North. The governor believed the combined forces would easily quash the Colonial rebellion in North Carolina. Early Flora MacDonald historians maintained she was personally active in recruiting expat Highlanders for the regiment, delivering a rousing speech at Cross Creek exhorting the recruits to fight for victory over the rebels. Colonial forces headed off the regiment on its march to Brunswick, confronting it at Moore’s Creek Bridge on Feb. 27, 1776. Shouting “For King George and Broadswords,” the Highlanders unwisely mounted a charge across the bridge. They were greeted with withering patriot gunfire. In the ensuing disaster, dozens of Scots were killed. Hundreds more were captured, including Allan MacDonald and son Alexander. The remaining members of the regiment, including James MacDonald, scattered. The crushed Loyalists would not re-emerge as a military presence in North Carolina until near the end of the war, in 1781. The emboldened patriots (also called “Whigs”) began confiscating the land, livestock and other holdings of Scottish immigrants still loyal to the king. Flora did not escape the plundering. The plantation was ransacked and confiscated. She suffered the loss of most of her possessions. Desperate, she sought and received refuge in what is now Moore County under the protection of Loyalist Kenneth Black. In her new abode, located near the New River and presentday Pinehurst, Flora was close to daughter Anne, whose home, “Glendale,” stood nearby. Summoned to appear before the local Whigs’ Committee of Safety to answer for her allegedly seditious conduct, Flora coolly displayed “spirited behavior” in responding to the inquiry. She was permitted to go free. Allan managed to obtain freedom for himself and son Alexander by successfully negotiating a prisoner exchange with Congress in The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
PHOTOGRAPH COMPLIMENTS OF BILL CAUDILL AND THE SCOTTISH HERITAGE SOCIETY, ST. ANDREW UNIVERSITY, LAURINBURG, N.C.
August 1777. He was released in New York, where he took command of a Loyalist company. In March 1778, Flora was permitted by Colonial authorities to join her husband there. Later that year, the couple made their way to Halifax, Nova Scotia, where Allan was placed in command of another regiment. Persuaded by her husband that she would be better off living her remaining years in Scotland where her hero status remained undiminished, Flora, then 57, and daughter Anne returned to her native land in 1779. En route, a French privateer attacked Flora’s ship. Legend has it that she mounted the deck, exposed herself to gunfire, and bravely cheered the crew’s successful effort to repel the attack. She broke her arm in the resulting melee but reached Skye, where she was reunited with daughter Fanny, by then age 14. Completing his service obligation in 1784, Allan Charles Vardell (holding bouquet) at the 1922 dedication of Flora crossed the Atlantic to Scotland and Flora. Because MacDonald Cross at Kilmuir Cemetery on Skye siding with the Loyalists resulted in the forfeiture of his American property, he submitted a claim seeking compensation for those losses and was granted a partial award by the crown. His financial circumstances furthat the passage of time had eradicated the helpful landmarks. I ther improved after obtaining a property management role as “Tack pulled over to contemplate my next move. of Peinduin.” The position enabled Allan and Flora to live in relative, Just then, a young local couple drove alongside and asked if I was financial comfort until Flora’s death in 1790. Allan passed away two lost. When I explained I was looking for two Revolutionary Waryears later. Both are buried in Kilmuir Cemetery on Skye. era graves, the young man responded, “Oh, you mean the stones!” He suggested backtracking and veering down a crossing road that, as far as I could tell, didn’t exist. Where were these stones? Had the Outlander’s Clare Fraser experienced similar frustration when she sought to find the magical standing stone that would transport her MacDonald’s life in from the 18th to the 20th century? North Carolina was Reluctant to give up the hunt, I drove back into Norman and replete with hardships, stopped at the local post office. (No dead letter jokes, please.) I told enduring lengthy separations from her husband, the harsh enmity the longtime postmaster, Helen Simmons, about Flora’s children and of the Whigs, financial ruin, and virtual banishment from the state. “the stones,” and she smiled. A 1930s article in the Pinehurst Outlook disclosed another heartbreak “I don’t know where Flora MacDonald’s children are buried, but allegedly suffered here. Citing a 1909 biography, the story claimed I think I know what that fellow meant,” she said. “Tell you what, I’m that after the fateful battle at Moore’s Creek Bridge, Flora “was getting off work. Follow me out of town to Mt. Carmel Presbyterian called to grieve the loss of a son (age 11) and daughter (age 13) who Church. It was founded by Scots who settled in this area during the died of typhus fever,” and that the two children were still buried at Revolution. Several of my ancestors are buried there. There are some the MacDonald’s “Killiegray” plantation on Mountain Creek near very old graves in the churchyard. Maybe you’ll find what you’re lookNorman, North Carolina. A monument had been placed at the site ing for there.” marking the graves of her children. Soon, Helen and I were walking about Mt. Carmel’s ancient While the text of the Outlook article acknowledged the graves, lograveyard. The black headstones from the late 1700s, worn down to cated in Richmond County just across the Montgomery County line, the nub, some no more than 6 inches high, did not bear any decipherwere “somewhat inaccessible,” it said they could be reached “without able script. If these were the “stones” my young acquaintance had had great difficulty,” and like an 87-year-old GPS, directions were proin mind, I doubted Flora’s children’s graves were among them. They vided. So, on a crisp mid-January afternoon, I drove to Norman. The were supposed to be located on private property — not in a church directions said that “when almost through the village just beyond two graveyard — though I did later learn that Flora attended the Mt. brick churches, one on either side of the road, turn left on a dirt road.” Carmel church during her abbreviated stay in the area. I spotted the two churches and turned just beyond them, driving a I must be adept at appearing forlorn and in need of assistance, couple of miles down a country road looking for the bridges and farm because after Helen left, another local resident came to offer help. paths the Outlook said would lead to the graves. It was clear, however,
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Arriving in the church’s driveway was Bill McFadden, retired lifetime Norman resident and a Mt. Carmel congregant. After hearing my tale of frustration, Bill placed a call to a historically-minded friend who suggested we look for the graves down another road that led into Richmond County. In short order, I was tailing Bill to another clearing in the countryside, but this foray didn’t pan out either, and the graves’ location remained a mystery. It turned out that in 1937, three years after the Outlook article, what was left of the children’s bodies had been disinterred and reinterred at the Red Springs campus of Flora MacDonald College, now Highlander Academy. But why? I toured the Red Springs campus with Alex Watson who explained that prior to 1915 it was a women’s college named Southern Presbyterian College and Conservancy of Music. Dr. Charles Vardell founded the institution in 1896 and served as its president for decades. Linda Rumple Vardell, Charles’ wife and an accomplished pianist, ran the college’s music program. Since the area had been settled by transplanted Scots, many Southern Presbyterian students were of Scottish ancestry. When Canadian James A. Macdonald, editor of the Toronto Globe and an ordained Presbyterian minister, came to Fayetteville to attend a gathering of Scottish clans in 1914, he also toured the Southern Presbyterian College campus. Wowed by what he saw, the editor made a pledge to the endowment of the school and encouraged
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PHOTOGRAPHS ON PAGES 88 AND 89 ARE COMPLIMENTS OF ALEX WATSON AND HIGHLANDER ACADEMY, RED SPRINGS, N.C.
The reinterred graves at Red Springs
fellow Scots to do likewise. Macdonald felt that fundraising would be facilitated if the college’s scope was “broadened to bear the name of the Scottish heroine (Flora), herself a Presbyterian, a college graduate, and a noble example of Christian womanhood.” Thus in 1915, the Canadian persuaded Vardell to rename the school Flora MacDonald College, though the Presbyterian Synod of North Carolina still remained in ultimate charge. The name change occurred not long after the publication of Flora MacDonald in America, by J.P. MacLean, in which the author claimed that Flora’s two children were buried at the aforementioned Killiegray plantation, approximately 50 miles from Red Springs. It occurred to Vardell that relocating the children’s graves on the Red Springs campus would provide the campus an additional element of Scottish heritage and testament to Flora’s memory. But a legal obstacle stood in the way. Digging up a grave and relocating the remains was not a simple matter. The North Carolina legislature first needed to authorize any such disinterment. Before approaching the legislature, Vardell thought it prudent to undertake additional research to confirm that the graves were actually those of Flora’s children. To perform this task, Vardell turned to W.R. Coppedge, the highly respected former pastor of Mt. Carmel Presbyterian Church and superintendent of Richmond County Schools. Rev. Coppedge spoke with several longtime residents, all of whom believed the graves contained Flora’s children based on traditional accounts that were now a minimum of four generations old. Coppedge was persuaded that the residents knew what they were talking about and signed an affidavit indicating he was “convinced that these are the graves of Flora MacDonald’s children.” Armed with Coppedge’s affidavit, Vardell obtained the legislature’s approval in 1917 to move the remains. For reasons unknown, the graves at Killiegray stayed undisturbed until the 1930s, when Vardell turned his attention back to bringing the graves’ remains to the campus. He was on the scene when they were finally dug up. Vardell reported that natural elements and the passage of time had transformed the bodies into dust, which was collected in separate receptacles and brought to Red Springs. Corresponding with a project booster, an enthused Vardell wrote, “I think we can now say, so far as an intelligent person can judge, that the remains of Flora MacDonald’s children are now on the college campus.” Having constructed a granite wall as a backdrop for the graves, the college made ready for an elaborate funeral ceremony at Red Springs on April 28, 1937. Prior to the ceremony, the double coffin was placed under the campus dome and laid “in state.” A 30-piece Fort Bragg military band and an honor guard of young women adorned in Stuart plaid lent a dignified atmosphere to the occasion. Four Flora MacDonald College students, all fittingly named Flora MacDonald, carried the remains from the dome to their permanent resting place. Soon after the widely reported ceremony, questions were raised by skeptical historians whether the remains reinterred at the college were really Flora’s children. The naysayers advanced a simple argument that, in essence, involved the counting of noses: Flora had borne seven children, and they all could be accounted for. Sons Ranald and Alexander were lost at sea in 1783, and the earliest death of the remain-
ing five took place in 1795 — 19 years after Flora fled the plantation. Supporters of the view that the remains were of Flora’s offspring pointed to a letter she allegedly sent in February 1776, beseeching her friend Maggie to visit because Allan was with the regiment “and I shall be alone with my three bairns (Scottish word for children).” It was asserted that two of the “bairns” could only be the children who perished at the plantation. The 1872 edition of American Historical Review quoted this correspondence and stated it was being preserved in Fayetteville. But the letter's existence is considered suspect since no one knows where it is today. Moreover, its slangy language is thought to be inconsistent with other writings of the well-educated Flora. If two of Flora’s children did perish from typhus, it stands to reason she and Allan would have memorialized that fact somewhere in their writings. It would have particularly served Allan’s interest to report any such deaths in his 1784 petition to the British government in which he sought compensation for the confiscations and other losses he and Flora suffered in North Carolina. In his submission, Allan pulled out all the stops, pouring out the litany of hardships and heartbreaks inflicted upon the MacDonalds while in America, including the loss at sea of son Ranald. Tellingly missing from the petition is any mention of deaths of other children, young or otherwise. Research of Colonial-era property records by Pinehurst’s Rassie Wicker further weakened the frayed case that the graves contained Flora’s children. Wicker found that Allan MacDonald never owned land at or very near Mountain Creek, the site of the unearthed graves. He did, however, own a 475-acre plantation in Montgomery County about 4 miles away on Cheek’s Creek. A 1775 letter authored by Royal Gov. Martin buttresses Wicker’s position. Martin wrote that he intended to spend the summer “with my friend Mr. MacDonald of Kingsborough … on Cheek’s Creek.” Wicker made the additional point that had Alan been inclined to name his plantation, he would surely have called it Kingsborough, not Killiegray — a name associated with a different Scottish clan. This historical brouhaha failed to generate much impact at Flora MacDonald as the college refrained from involving itself in the controversy while continuing to project a spirited Scottish motif throughout the two decades following the aforementioned 1937 funeral. The college faced a far more significant challenge in 1955, when the Presbyterian Synod decided to consolidate the operations of various colleges they had been supporting. As a result, Flora MacDonald College and Presbyterian Junior College in Maxton were combined into a co-educational institution and moved to Laurinburg. The resulting school subsequently became St. Andrews University. Flora MacDonald College was closed in 1961 and its personal property, including valuable paintings, a pearl brooch reportedly containing a locket of the Bonnie Prince's hair, a snuff box given by Allan to Flora on their wedding day, and other artifacts, were packed up and shipped to Laurinburg. Nothing was left of the school in Red Springs except its vacant and rapidly deteriorating campus buildings. The vacating of the campus devastated the community of Red Springs and the college’s female alumni. A combined preparatory school and junior college was reopened at the campus three years The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Tartan-clad pallbearers at the April, 1937 funeral: (l) to (r) Flora MacDonald, Flora MacDonald, Flora MacDonald and Flora MacDonald
Charles Vardell (tallest), Flora MacDonald College students, and various dignitaries at the gravesite
later. In 1974, the institution became a K-12 co-ed school. While undergoing multiple name changes since the 1961 reopening, the school has continued to venerate its Scottish heritage, Flora MacDonald, and her putative children. But if, as seems most likely, the remains of Flora’s children are not housed in the campus graves, whose are they? It is doubtful anyone will ever know with certainty, but presumably they are children of either early Scottish immigrants or slaves. But there is no question about the authenticity of the damaged marble tablet that the college placed on the graves. It originally graced the monument on Flora’s gravesite on Skye. After a storm damaged that monument, Charles Vardell helped raise funds to replace it, journeying to Scotland for the installation of the new stone. He was permitted to return to Red Springs with the original tablet, which bore the following inscription: FLORA MACDONALD Preserver of Prince Charles Edward Stuart Her name will be mentioned in history, and if courage and fidelity be virtues, mentioned with honour. PS Pinehurst resident Bill Case is PineStraw’s history man. He can be reached at Bill.Case@thompsonhine.com. PineStraw
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STORY OF A HOUSE
Time Warp A modern family flourishes in a century-old house
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By Deborah Salomon Photographs by John Gessner
A
t first glance, the interior of Ashley and David Johnson’s house bordering the Southern Pines Historic District resembles a movie set. A silent movie, of course, since the house was built in 1920. On the walls hang portraits of somebody else’s relatives. Furnishings — a few heirlooms among the reproductions — lean toward weathered leather and dark woods. Beds have metal frames, and sinks look like layouts from Better Homes and Gardens, first published in 1922. Instead of native heart pine, the unusually narrow floorboards revealed under layers of carpet and linoleum are oak, signaling . . . what? Obviously, the Johnsons are sticklers for the authentic, continually sleuthing used furniture stores and architectural salvage warehouses. Because, as Stephen King wrote, “Sooner or later, everything old is new again.” That applies to push-button light switches enjoying a revival throughout the Johnson homestead. Time was, young couples with growing families wanted new houses tricked out in the latest gadgets. In the extreme, this spawned “smart” homes with Siri and Alexa calling the shots. Ashley and David missed that trope. They represent a group intent on reproducing the past, within reason, financed by sweat equity. Nobody shuns air conditioning or The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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dishwashers, decks or gas grills. But the Johnsons don’t mind occupying a work-in-progress with their five home-schooled children, ages 5 to 13, and an adolescent Great Dane named Odysseus, whose blue-gray coat matches the kitchen cabinets. Like almost everything else, these handsome cabinets were wrought by David, meaning that if a molding or door frame needed replacing, he would reproduce it.
A
winding but not unfamiliar road led them to this project, which they hope to complete by 2024. “My five-year plan,” David calls it. Ashley grew up in a historic home in Charleston renovated by her father, David, on a farm in western Canada. He learned carpentry and construction from his father, a general contractor. Ashley studied design. Both come from moderately large, home-schooled families. David joined the military, and while at Fort Bragg, spent a weekend in Charleston, where he met Ashley through her brother, at a home-school event. After their marriage, David was stationed in Colorado until their infant daughter was diagnosed with cancer. The military approved a compassionate relocation to Moore County, which was closer to Ashley’s family, and Duke, where Payton, now 12, received chemotherapy. First they rented a home in Seven Lakes, but as “doers,” wanted their own place. They found it while talking to the Levy family, owners of the Toy Shop in downtown Southern Pines and this cottage. Little is known of the house built during the pre-Depression boom except a general description from the National Register of Historic Places, which “attributes” the design to architect Aymar Embury II, an active participant in the growth and popularity of Southern The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Pines. “Dutch Colonial style, distinguished by gambrel roofs, shed dormers, German siding,” it reads. No occupants are listed, suggesting spec-built. With few photos available, the Johnsons went to work researching or imagining what once was. They decided to alter the footprint as little as possible. Then, two days after they moved in, David was deployed for six months. “While he was gone I did some painting,” Ashley says. And planning, since nothing inspires renovation more than occupation. Otherwise, the six of them “just hung out.”
A
fter David returned, the first thing they tackled was the master bedroom, previously pine-paneled, located just beyond the living room, with plumbing for a shower in between. Off came the paneling, on went vivid blue paint. Ashley liked the look of a fireplace, so David assembled a decorative one, with an antique grate and mantel but no chimney. A tiny bathroom with window became their closet-dressing room while the larger existing closet became a bathroom. The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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Next, they tackled the floors. Those narrow oak boards were removed, very carefully, a subfloor laid, the strips retuned and refinished. Their older kids helped pull up the nails. A door between kitchen and dining room was widened, and the front hall coat closet is now a powder room. Ashley’s hunt for furnishings and period décor is ongoing. Nothing matches, everything relates. “I’m obsessed with antlers,” she admits. Several pairs hang from the parlor wall along with hunt-themed prints and a boar’s head bagged by somebody else. The sofa is leather; a massive spinet and son Holden’s cello anchor the music corner. Ladies in long skirts and corseted bodices (not Roaring ’20s flappers) would look quite at home taking tea here. The children sleep upstairs. Do the math: five kids, two bedrooms. (A third is being renovated as a guest room.) The boys, Holden, 9, and Gunnarr, 7, occupy bunk beds in the smaller room, while daughters Payton, 12, Haydanne, 13, and Charlotte, 5, have the original, long, sun-splashed master bedroom, with three frilly white beds lined up dormstyle. The five share a typically ’30s black-and-white bathroom. Ashley concedes that this arrangement may change as the girls become teenagers. The Johnsons eat all their meals in the dining room, sparsely furnished with a long narrow table, bentwood chairs (another of Ashley’s obsessions) and a sideboard. Nowhere is the couple’s ingenuity better displayed than in the kitchen of moderate size with a refrigerator made by The Big Chill, resembling an old-timey icebox on steroids. A brass rod added to the dishwasher matches fittings on the gas stove. Instead of a range hood David installed an exhaust fan behind a classic wall grate over the stove. A friend The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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offered them the ancient porcelain sink, just worn enough to confirm its age. At the back door, a clam-shell sink from Ashley’s Charleston home encourages the kids to wash up after playing outside. Restoration stops at the large deck on stilts overlooking the fenced (for Odysseus) yard and chicken-duck coop, which the girls helped build.
F
ew cottages of that era had basements. The Johnson family needed one. Here, down a narrow, steep flight of stairs, the children sit at desks while being schooled by Ashley — also a play area with TV (watched sparingly), a laundry nook and fitness equipment. Somehow, by allocating every inch of space, seven people fit into 2,400 square feet without crowding or clutter. “This is big. The house we moved out of was 1,500 square feet,” Ashley recalls. The work-in-progress is also an experiment. When David leaves the military he plans to consolidate his research and construction expertise along with Ashley’s design skills into a business focusing on turn-of-the-century homes. “We’re always dreaming,” Ashley admits. Which still begs the question: For an active young family, why is old better than new? “The history and craftsmanship, the beauty and design,” Ashley answers. “And the simpler lifestyle is good for our family.” PS
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ay is a blushing bride, lips sweet as plump strawberries, humming an ancient rhyme for luck. Something old (snakeskin), something new (four eggs), something borrowed (birdhouse), something blue (songbird). The second stanza starts with honeyed warbles. Tu-a-wee sings the bluebird on the pitched roof of the birdhouse. Tu-a-wee trills the bluebird at the nest. Verse three is the sound of movement through soft grass. In the black of night — a shadowy flash — four eggs swallowed one by one. Lucky rat snake, with its new skin, its luscious fluidity, its bellyful of tender life. Lucky rabbit, nibbling in the garden at dawn, bellyful of baby lettuce, salad greens, Swiss chard, snow peas. May is a banquet, a ceremony, a celebration. It is the vow from bee to flower, flower to bee. The sacred oath to give until there is nothing left. And there is so much here. An apple blossom for the maiden. Wild berries for the groom. An ancient rhyme. Sweet nectar and the tender, green promise of a full and luscious life — pleasant and bitter, in darkness and in light.
It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his arms to embrace he knows not what. ― John Galsworthy, The Forsyte Saga
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
Behold the earliest strawberries, fat and sweet. Like love notes from summer, ripe for the picking. And if ever you picked them straight from the bush, perhaps you’ve noticed that they smell as scrumptious as they taste. Members of the rose family, strawberry plants are perennial. Fruit can be picked green (pickle them) or ripe (you’ll know what to do), but don’t fret if they’ve gone a bit soft. Instead, make wine — or jam. You won’t need much: Two pounds of fresh strawberries (mash them), four cups of white sugar and one-fourth cup of fresh lemon juice. One heavy bottomed saucepan, too. Stir mixture over low heat until sugar dissolves, then bring to a full rolling boil, stirring often, for about 15 minutes. Sure, you can transfer to hot sterile jars, seal and process — or save yourself the trouble. Let cool and eat right away.
The May Wreath
May takes its name from the Roman goddess Maia, midwife of plants, flowers and the riotous beauty of spring. Speaking of flowers, it’s time to gather them. On the first of the month, May Day, celebrate this fertile, fruitful season by fashioning a wreath of twigs and greenery. Weave in wildflowers: crab apple, dogwood, painted trillium. Add pomegranate, garlic, herbs and nettle. Hang it on your door until midsummer night. Wreath-making is an ancient Greek custom believed to ward off evil and invite prosperity. The act itself is a sacred dance between the weaver and the natural world.
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Gallery • Studios • Classes Adventures with a Palette Knife Kathy Leuck Exhibition Opening Reception: Friday, May 7, 5:00-7:00 Exhibit Open thru May 27
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
&
Arts Entertainment C A L E N DA R
Shaw House Tours
Met Opera at the Sunrise Theater
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.
craft supplies and activity sheets. Pickup for packets can be done Monday through Friday from 10 a.m. - 2 p.m. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-6022 or info@giventufts.com.
JOY OF ART STUDIO. Summer Celebrate Your Creativity. For all ages. Painting, drawing and mixed media. 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/.
LITTLE READERS. Little Clips for Little Readers features fun rhymes, songs and literacy tips for children aged birth to 5 and their parents and caregivers. Look for these videos posted weekly on SPPL’s Facebook and YouTube channel. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.
GIVEN BOOK SHOP. The Given Book Shop will be open Monday through Saturday from 9 a.m. - 5 p.m. 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.
MOORE ART SHARE. The Arts Council of Moore County and Given Memorial Library invite citizens of all ages to share their art with the community by submitting it to an online publication. Submissions can include visual arts, music, theater, short stories, videos, photography, recipes and more. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www.mooreart.org.
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GIVEN MEMORIAL LIBRARY. Given Memorial Library will be open Monday through Friday from 9:30 a.m. - 5 p.m. and Saturdays from 9:30 a.m. - 12:30 p.m. 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-todate 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 The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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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. 10 a.m. - 9 p.m. Rent the Sunrise Theater for your private event. Email MaryBeth@sunrisetheater.com to help you plan your special night out at the Sunrise. 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. SPPL OPEN. The Southern Pines Public Library is now open for browsing. Hours have been extended to 10 a.m. - 7 p.m. Monday through Thursday, 10 a.m. - 5
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p.m. Fridays, 10 a.m. - 1 p.m. on Saturdays, and 2 - 5 p.m. on Sundays. In order to keep staff and patrons safe, capacity in the library is limited to 20 people and 15 minutes of browsing time. Masks are required for entry to the library for adults and children 5 and older. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. HISTORICAL EXHIBIT. The Moore County Historical Association has put together an exhibit titled “The Lure of Southern Pines, as Seen in Early Postcards.” Shaw House, 110 W. Morganton Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2051. TAKE AND MAKE BAGS. Take and Make Bags will be available on the second and last Wednesday of the month on a first come, first served basis. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or email lib@sppl.net. Saturday, May 1 OUTDOOR LIBRARY PROGRAM. 10 - 11 a.m. Kids grades K-5 are invited to pick up Brushbot kits. This outdoor program will meet in the story circle and feature a short demonstration on how to assemble, decorate and use Brushbots. Adult supervision is strongly encouraged, and masks are required. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or email lib@sppl.net. DERBY GALA. 5:30 - 10 p.m. Join the St. John Paul II Catholic School in your most dapper Derby attire. Enjoy an open bar, sit-down dinner, music, live stream of the Derby race, a silent auction and more. Tickets are $125. Pinehurst Country Club, 1 Carolina Vista Drive, Pinehurst. Info: www.ticketmesandhills.com. SUMMER CAMP REGISTRATION. Registration is open for the Sunrise’s series of three one-week camps divided by grades, each with its own theme. Camps include singing, acting and movement lessons under the guidance of an experienced theater director, music direcPineStraw
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CA L E N DA R tor and a staff of talented student volunteers. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Monday, May 3 CHILDREN’S BOOK WEEK. 9:30 a.m. - 5 p.m. Make bookmarks and take home a reading and activity packet. Check out great books and more. Hours are 9:30 a.m. - 12 p.m. on Saturday. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info and tickets: (910) 295-3642. MASTER GARDENER HOTLINE. 10 a.m. – 12 p.m. Master Gardeners will be available from 10 a.m. – 12 p.m., Monday through Friday, to answer homeowner questions about lawns, plant care and sustainable gardening. Call (910) 947-3188. Program continues through Oct. 31. For other questions or concerns call the Moore County Cooperative Extension Center at (910) 947-3188. Thursday, May 6 SHAW HOUSE TOURS. 1 - 4 p.m. The Moore County Historical Association’s Shaw House grounds and properties are open for tours, Thursdays and Fridays only. All tours are free (donations are welcome). Docents will guide you through the houses while highlighting historical significance, and tell stories of the people who inhabited the dwellings and surrounding area. The gift shop is also open and contains unique items for purchase. Masks are required for the indoor tours, and if possible, please call to book your tour ahead of time at (910) 692-2051. LADIES WINE OUT. 5:30 - 7:30 p.m. Join this outside event full of silent auctions, a wine raffle and jewelry for sale. Tickets are $20 - $25. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info and tickets: www.ticketmesandhills.com. Friday, May 7 ART RECEPTION. 5 - 7 p.m. The May exhibit will showcase the work of Kathy Leuck, who will present her works in an exhibit titled “Adventures with a Palette Knife.” The exhibit will be on display through May 27. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 944-3979. ART EXHIBIT OPENING. 5 p.m. View an exhibit featuring pottery by Jugtown Pottery, paintings by Sharon Ferguson, JLK Jewelry, and woodworking by Andrew Ownbey. The exhibit will remain on display through May 28. Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www. mooreart.org. OUTDOOR MOVIE. 8:15 p.m. Mamma Mia! (2008). The movie will play outside the Sunrise Theater. In the event of inclement weather, the movie will be screened indoors. There will be a second showing on May 8 at 8:15 p.m. Tickets are $10 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 6923611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Saturday, May 8 MARKETPLACE ON THE SUNRISE SQUARE. 11 a.m. - 4 p.m. An outdoor market featuring a variety of local small businesses and artisans providing shoppers access to numerous artisans, small businesses, and orga-
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nizations in a safe, fresh air environment. Pop-up shops are scattered around the Sunrise Square park. Masks are required for everyone ages 2 and up. Dogs are not permitted. Sunrise Square, 260 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Beethoven Symphony No.4. This is a streaming concert. North Carolina Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org. Sunday, May 9 MOVIE. 2 p.m. The Sound of Music (1965). Join us for this special Mother’s Day movie. Tickets are $10 per person. Masks required inside the theater. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Tuesday, May 11 FINE ARTS LECTURE SERIES. 5:30 - 7 p.m. The Arts Council of Moore County presents a lecture on “Artists and Celebrities” with lecturer Ellen Burke. Space is limited. McPherson Theater at BPAC, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 692-2787. Friday, May 14 SYMPHONY. 12 p.m. Friday Favorites: Beethoven Violin Concerto. This is a streaming concert. There will be another stream on May 28 at 12 p.m. North Carolina Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www. ncsymphony.org. Saturday, May 15 MET OPERA. 1:30 p.m. George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. Tickets are $27 per person. Masks required inside the theater. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Pops Around the World. This is a streaming concert. North Carolina Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org. Sunday, May 16 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. Monday, May 17 ANNUAL MEETING. The Sandhills Woman’s Exchange will hold its annual meeting, where members and the public are invited to attend a breakfast buffet. Cost is $25 per person. The Sandhills Woman’s Exchange will close for the summer on May 21 and reopen on Sept. 8. Pine Crest Inn, 50 Dogwood Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-4677. Tuesday, May 18 GIVEN TO GO. 5:30 - 6:30 p.m. Pick up a wonderful dinner provided by Elliott’s on Linden in support of Given Memorial Library. Tickets can be purchased until May 14 in the Tufts Archives. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info and tickets: 910-295-3642. FINE ARTS LECTURE SERIES. 5:30 - 7 p.m. The Arts Council of Moore County presents a lecture on “Good as Gold: Fashioning Senegalese Women” with
lecturer Amanda Maples. Space is limited. McPherson Theater at BPAC, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 692-2787. Thursday, May 20 MET OPERA. 1:30 p.m. George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. Tickets are $27 per person. Masks required inside the theater. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. CIVIL WAR ROUND TABLE. 6:30 p.m. The speaker will be Paul Peeples, round table member and author, with a presentation on “Captain Alexander McRae and the Battle of Valverde, New Mexico.” Meeting starts at 7 p.m. Attendance may be limited to 35, reservations will be necessary. Civic Club, corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Ashe Street, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 246-0452 or mafarina@aol.com. Friday, May 21 OUTDOOR MOVIE. 8:30 p.m. Ghostbusters (1984). The movie will play outside the Sunrise Theater. In the event of inclement weather, the movie will be moved indoors. There will be a second showing on May 22 at 8:30 p.m. Tickets are $10 per person. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. Saturday, May 22 TODDLER TUNES. 11 a.m. Join SPPL for Toddler Tunes Storytime outside in the story circle. Ages 2 - 4 and their caregivers will enjoy a session full of songs, stories and movement. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or email lib@sppl.net. MARKETPLACE ON THE SUNRISE SQUARE. 11 a.m. - 4 p.m. An outdoor market featuring a variety of local small businesses and artisans providing shoppers access in a safe, fresh air environment. Pop-up shops are scattered around the Sunrise Square park. Masks are required for everyone ages 2 and up. Dogs are not permitted. Sunrise Square, 260 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Beethoven Symphony No.4. This is a streaming concert. North Carolina Symphony, 3700 Glenwood Ave., Raleigh. Info: www.ncsymphony.org. Tuesday, May 25 PAGE TURNERS. 10:30 a.m. Southern Pines Public Library’s book club will meet via Zoom. The book is A Good Neighborhood, by Therese Anne Fowler. 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, June 4 ART EXHIBIT OPENING. View the exhibit “Cloth and Clay” featuring art by Anne Crabbe, Sarah Entsminger, Jenny Williams and Nanette Zeller. The exhibit will remain on display through June 25. Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-2787 or www.mooreart.org. Saturday, June 5 SATURDAY KIDS PROGRAM. 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. The The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
CA L E N DA R Saturday Kids Program will be starting up again. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info and tickets: (910) 295-3642. 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 OUTDOOR STORYTIME. 10 a.m. Story times will take place in the newly-expanded outdoor story circle this spring. Babies birth to 2 years old and their families are invited for a 20 to 30-minute story session. Each of these sessions is first come, first served with a capacity of 10 families. Masks are required for any participant over the age of 5. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net or email lib@sppl.net. TABLE TENNIS. 7 - 9 p.m. Enjoy playing this exciting game every Tuesday. Cost for six months is $15 for
Pine ServiceS Medicine as it should be.
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CA L E N DA R residents of Southern Pines and $30 for non-residents. For adults 55 and older. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. Wednesdays FARM TO TABLE. Join Sandhills Farm to Table Co-op by ordering a subscription of local produce to support our local farmers. Info: (910) 722-1623 or www.sandhillsfarm2table.com. SANDHILLS FARMERS MARKET IN PINEHURST. 3 - 6 p.m. The market will feature local farmers, bakers, crafters and a N.C. fishmonger so locals can purchase fresh fish that is 24-48 hours from wave to plate. Regularly featuring 20 or more farms plus entertainment and opportunities for kids. Tufts Park, Pinehurst.
this spring. Ages 3 to 5 and their families can enjoy a session with literacy-building skills to help them prepare for kindergarten. Each of these sessions is first come, first served with a capacity of 10 families. Masks are required for any participant over the age of 5. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net or email lib@sppl.net. Fridays TAP CLASS. 10 - 11:30 a.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost per class: $15/resident; $30/ non-resident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info and registration: (910) 692-7376.
Thursdays MOORE COUNTY FARMERS MARKET. 9 a.m. – 1 p.m. The year-round market features “producer only” vendors within a 50-mile radius providing fresh, local, and seasonal produce, fruits, pasture meats, eggs, potting plants, cut flowers and local honey. Crafts, baked goods, jams and jellies are also available. Market is located at the Armory Sports Complex, 604 W. Morganton Road, Southern Pines. GIVEN STORY TIME. 10 a.m. Wonderful volunteers share their love of reading. Social distancing for children and masks required for adults. Stop by and join the fun. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info and tickets: 910-295-3642. OUTDOOR STORYTIME. 3:30 p.m. Story times will take place in the newly-expanded outdoor story circle
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SANDHILLS FARMERS MARKET IN PINEHURST. 10 a.m. - 1 p.m. The market will feature local farmers, bakers and crafters. Regularly featuring 20 or more farms plus entertainment and opportunities for kids. Tufts Park, Pinehurst. PS
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Saturdays MOORE COUNTY FARMERS MARKET. 8 a.m. – 12 p.m. The market features “producer only” vendors within a 50-mile radius providing fresh, local and seasonal produce, fruits, pasture meats, eggs, potting plants, cut flowers and local honey. Crafts, baked goods, jams and jellies are also available, accompanied by live music. Market is located in downtown Southern Pines at S.E. Broad Street and New York Ave. and runs weekly (with the exception of Autumnfest on October 2) until the end of October.
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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St. Patty’s Day Warm Up
Weymouth Center for the Arts and Humanities Sunday, March 14, 2021 Photographs by Diane McKay
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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SandhillSeen
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Palustris Art Reception
Arts Council of Moore County Friday, April 9, 2021 Photographs by Diane McKay
Jeffry Goodrum, Margret Mueller Joe Mobley, Kathleen Wyche
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
May PineNeedler
Riddles for Humor Month BARBEQUE !
By Mart Dickerson 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Across ACROSS 68. Hot spot 1. Remiss 69. Lilliputian 14 15 13 1. Remiss 6. “Absolutely!”6. "Absolutely!" 70. Grassland 17 18 16 9. 9. Wrestling hold Wrestling hold 71. Carries 21 22 19 20 13. ___ New Guinea Use a riser, with “up” 13. ___ New 72. Guinea 14. Australian runner Cat sound 23 24 14. Australian73. runner 15. Gown fabric 74. Shot of whiskey 15. Gown fabric 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 16. Biting DOWN 16. Biting 17. Balaam’s mount 37 38 39 35 36 1. Attention ___ 17. Balaam's mount 18. Part of “the works” 2. Shoestring 41 42 43 40 19. On edge 18. Part of "the 3. works" Mimic 21. Grill fave 19. On edge 4. Bend in the road 46 47 44 45 23. Tide movement 21. Grill fave5. Grill fave 50 51 52 48 49 24. Gossip (slang) 6. Affirmative votes 23. Tide movement 25. TV monitor? (inits) 7. Dash lengths 53 54 55 56 28. Shoe part 24. Gossip, (slang) 8. Japanese bar offering 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 25. TV monitor? (inits) fishing boat 30. “Halts” to a sailor 9. Aluminum 35. Euros replaced them brand 28. Shoe part 66 67 68 65 37. Halo, e.g. 30. "Halts" to10. Assortment a sailor 70 71 69 39. Automaton 11. Drain problem 35. Euros replaced them 40. “Ars amatoria” poet 12. Some male dolls 73 74 72 41. Autocrats 37. Halo, e.g.15. Go this way and that 39. Automaton 43. The “C” in U.P.C. 20. Teeter_____, playground 44. Military blockade 36. Halftime lead, e.g. 40. "Ars amatoria" 61. Cat’s scratcher poet item 22. Sun, e.g. 46. Opposite of low 38. with Cornstarch 20. brand 62. Japanese steak 41. Autocrats 51.chain 72. Use a riser, Non-conformists Teeter_____, 24. Throws off-course, as a 47. “I had no ___!” 42. “Pipe down!” 63. “... happily ___ after” playground item "up" 43. The "C" in U.P.C. 54. Church poem train 48. Laugh riot 45. Diner 64. Home, informally 22. Sun, e.g. 73. Cat sound 44. Military blockade 25. Dentist’s advice Follow, as a tip, (2 50. Not quiet 49. Fold, spindle or mutilate 67. “Malcolm X”56. director 26. Kind of duty 24. 74. wds) Throws off-course, Shot of whiskey 46. Opposite of low 52. Wapiti 51. Non-conformists 27. Town announcer as a train 57. Hits on the head "I had no ___!" 53. A little night 47. music 54. Church poem Down 29. Luxurious 25. Dentist's advice 55. Caribbean, e.g. 58. Condo section 56. Follow, as a tip (2 wds) 48. Laugh riot 1. Attention ___ 57. Grill fave 50. Not quiet 31. Centers of activity 26. Kind of duty 57. Hits on the head 59. Anger 32. Domicile 2. Shoestring 61. Grill fave 58. Condo section 27. Town announcer 360. Hobbling gait 2 9 52. Wapiti 33. Alpine call 65. Broadcasting (2 wds) 3. Mimic 59. Anger 29. Luxurious 61. Cat's scratcher 34. Grill fave music 66. “Is that ___?”53. A little night Hobbling gait 2 7 4. Bend in the60. road 31. Centers of activity 62. Japanese steak chain 55. Caribbean, e.g. 5. Grill fave 32. Domicile 163. "... happily4___ 57. Grill fave 6. Affirmative votes 33. Alpine call after" 61. Grill fave 2 8 7. Dash lengths 64. Home, informally 34. Grill fave 65. Broadcasting, (2 8. Japanese bar offering 36. Halftime lead, e.g. 67. "Malcolm X" wds) 6 Puzzle answers on page 106 9. Aluminum fishing director 38. Cornstarch brand 66. "Is that ___?" boat brand Mart Dickerson lives in Southern Pines and welcomes 7 5 42. "Pipe down!" 3 68. Hot spot suggestions from her fellow puzzle masters. She can 10. be Assortment Sudoku: 45. Diner 69. Lilliputian 8 9 reached at martaroonie@gmail.com. 11. Drain problem Fill in the grid so 49. Fold, 70. Grassland every row, every spindle or 12. Some male dollscolumn mutilate 7 2 1 and every 71. Carries 15. Go this way and 3x3that box contain the numbers 1-9.
The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
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SOUTHWORDS
Planting Time By Jim Moriarty
Eons ago my college baseball team
elected to forgo the pleasures of Spring Break in favor of a trip to North Carolina to play other small colleges. I have a black and white picture of us standing outside the barely seaworthy bus that spewed diesel smoke from northern Ohio to North Carolina and back. We looked more like a rock band than a baseball team. That was fitting since we had more honest-to-God musicians among us than honest-to-God ballplayers. We didn’t win a single a game on that trip. The most exciting thing that happened was when our third baseman was bitten by a goose.
Our first baseman was a cellist in the music conservatory. Our right fielder was a quote machine — obscure baseball quotes he unearthed scouring old issues of The New York Times when he was supposed to be studying Plato’s ideal state. What did Don Larsen say he did the night before he pitched a perfect game in the 1956 World Series? “I had a few beers and went to bed around midnight like I always do.” Spring was the traditional planting season, which is to say I was the one being planted. There is a reason why they call catcher’s equipment the tools of ignorance. In one game after a particularly violent play at the plate that featured me rather prominently on the losing end, I finished the game though I have no independent recollection of it. Those were the days when the entire battery of tests comprising the concussion protocol was whether or not you could stand up. I’m quite certain I set a galaxy-wide record for passed balls that afternoon. If the pitch didn’t hit me, it went to the back stop. It would please me if I could say that was the only occasion when I experienced an unfortunate collision, but that would be a lie. In the very last game I ever played, on a lovely day at the end of May, I got my
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nose broken. While the bridge was spared, the cartilage was randomly pushed hither and yon and, to be honest, never made the return trip. The pitcher that day, who remains a good friend, was nicknamed Ragu. The moniker was hung on him by our right fielder, of course, who found him bafflingly unhittable because, he claimed, the ball had so much spaghetti sauce on it. Ragu induced one of their hitters to pop the ball up in foul territory well down the third base line. This is ordinarily the third baseman’s play. As the ball comes down, it will curve and, in this case, curve, more or less toward the third baseman. Naturally, the catcher chases the play, too, in case something untoward happens. Heck, the guy could get bitten by a goose, right? So, I threw my mask clear and trotted along, keeping an eye skyward and pretty much minding my own business waiting to hear the third baseman yell, “I got it!” Crickets. In the absence of detecting the third baseman’s voice, I expected to hear something from Ragu. More crickets. Gravity being what it is, the ball’s not going to stay up there forever, so I figure my third baseman has run afowl (apologies all around) of something and I was going to have to make the play. I pick up speed, to the extent to which such a thing was possible. “Mine!” I yell, prayerfully. The ball was dropping and curving. I dive, which sounds more impressive than it would have looked on instant replay. The ball is about to drop right in my glove when I see the third baseman’s mitt passing over my outstretched arms, catching the ball, and slamming straight into my nose. This is not the way they draw this play up. Fortunately, there was no immediately discernible brain damage. There was, however, a great deal of blood. The extent of our team’s training kit was pretty much confined to a jar of Atomic Balm, a couple of Band-Aids, and some gauze. So, I started stuffing gauze into my nostrils and Ragu returned to the mound. Here, I confess, things become a little indelicate. The gauze began to unravel. I had a long white string dangling from each nostril, giving the appearance of having treated my injury with, well, need I say more? This was embarrassing enough but, to make matters worse, Ragu couldn’t contain his laughter through even a single windup. His curve ball cackled. His slider chortled. I would like to say we won the game, but we didn’t. And I didn’t even get a T-shirt out of it, just this lousy nose. PS The Art & Soul of the Sandhills
ILLUSTRATION BY MERIDITH MARTENS
How many fingers am I holding up?
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