February O.Henry 2026

WHERE PRECISION MEETS BEAUTY

Recognized as a Castle Connolly Top Doctor, Dr. Edward Gronet is a board-certified plastic surgeon at H/K/B Cosmetic Surgery. In Greensboro, advanced plastic surgery and modern Med Spa care are offered under one trusted name, providing refined treatments that restore balance, enhance natural beauty, and prioritize subtle, polished outcomes.

Megan Simmons Aesthetician

Paige Ottelin, RN, BSN Nurse Injector & Laser Specialist

Erica Conklin, PA-C Aesthetic Injector & Laser Specialist

Robin Jenkins, RN Nurse Injector & Laser Specialist

conehealth.com/heart

Cone Health Steven D. Bell Family Heart & Vascular Center Is Now Open.

February 2026

FEATURES

45 Past Life Poem by Ashley Walshe

46 White House

Drawing Room

By Maria Johnson

John Hutton says he can teach anyone to draw U.S. presidents and first ladies. We put him to the test.

54 “I’ll Show You”

By Cynthia Adams

The magical aspect — and real-life pressures — of live entertainment

6 0 A Full-Circle

Journey Home By

Cassie Bustamante

After many moves, the Lacenskis return to where their story began

71 February Almanac By

Ashley Walshe

DEPARTMENTS

11 Chaos Theory By Cassie Bustamante

15 Simple Life By Jim Dodson

18 Sazerac

23 Tea Leaf Astrologer By Zora Stellanova

25 Life’s Funny By Maria Johnson

29 The Omnivorous Reader By Anne Blythe

33 Home Grown By Cynthia Adams

37 Birdwatch By Susan Campbell

39 Wandering Billy By Billy Ingram

84 Events Calendar

92 GreenScene

96 O.Henry Ending By David Claude Bailey

Cover & this page illustrations by John

Hutton

Volume 16, No. 2

“I have a fancy that every city has a voice.” www.ohenrymag.com

PUBLISHER

David Woronoff david@thepilot.com

Andie Rose, Creative Director andiesouthernpines@gmail.com

Cassie Bustamante, Editor cassie@ohenrymag.com

Joi Floyd, Assistant Editor

Jim Dodson, Editor at Large jwdauthor@gmail.com

Keith Borshak, Senior Designer

Miranda Glyder, Senior Designer

CONTRIBUTING EDITORS

Cynthia Adams, David Claude Bailey, Maria Johnson

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Betsy Blake, Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Liz Nemeth, Bert VanderVeen, Mark Wagoner

CONTRIBUTORS

Harry Blair, Anne Blythe, Susan Campbell, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Gerry O’Neill, Stephen E. Smith, Zora Stellanova, Ashley Walshe, Amberly Glitz Weber

ADVERTISING SALES

Lisa Allen

336.210.6921 • lisa@ohenrymag.com

Amy Grove 336.456.0827 • amy@ohenrymag.com

Brad Beard, Graphic Designer

Jennifer Bunting, Advertising Coordinator ohenrymag@ohenrymag.com

Henry Hogan, Finance Director 910.693.2497

Darlene Stark, Subscriptions & Circulation Director 910.693.2488 OWNERS

Jack Andrews, Frank Daniels III, David Woronoff In memoriam Frank Daniels Jr.

Topics Covered:

• City Council news

• City project updates

• Arts and entertainment

• Job postings

• Road closures

• And more!

This spring, take a walk through Greensboro's fashion scene — and discover stories of courage, faith, and restoration along the way.

Get ready for an unforgettable night of fashion, fun, and purpose — Restoration Runway 2026: The Journey takes place Thursday, March 26, at the Greensboro Country Club.

The evening will feature a stunning fashion showcase with Spring 2026 looks from nine local boutiques and designers, along with powerful testimonials from women whose lives have been changed through the mission of Restoration Place Counseling. Guests will enjoy a VIP reception, curated pop-up boutiques and post-show dessert bar, all in support of RPC’s mission to help women heal.

VIP ($100)

Includes early entry for a reception of heavy hors d'oeuvres and early access to the Pop-Up Boutiques.

General Admission ($65) Includes entry into the Fashion Show, dessert, & postshow shopping at the Pop-Up Boutiques.

Whether you come dressed to impress, to support the mission, or to enjoy a truly special event, Restoration Runway is the perfect way to step into 2026 with purpose.

Seats fill quickly — secure your tickets today!

Step over to Simply Meg’s on Saturday, 2/28, to find the perfect Restoration Runway look—20% of the day’s proceeds support RPC’s journey of healing. There’s More to the Journey!

From Intimidated to Intimate

A friendship that almost wasn’t

By Cassie Bustama Nte

“Help! I need a furniture therapy!” Angelique texts me early one recent morning. Even earlier for her since she moved from Maryland to Colorado a year after our family jumped ship from the Old Line State to the Old North State. But we’re both early risers, especially now that we’re middle-aged, and those predawn conversations are frequent — focusing on anything from perimenopausal insomnia and parenting to what smutty books we’re currently reading. Or, as in this case, which Facebook marketplace chairs will look best at her dining table.

When Gail, a mutual friend of ours, got wind that I was packing up and heading to the rolling hills of rural Myersville, Md., she said, “You’ve got to meet Angelique! She has a vintage business, just like you. You two will hit it off.” Plus, I discovered, Angelique had three kids, two who were the same ages as mine — Sawyer and Emmy, just 6 and 4 at the time. It felt like a fated friendship. And yet, things didn’t simply fall into place.

Once our boxes were unpacked, I dialed the number Gail had given me and burbled on as I do when I’m nervous and unsure of myself. “Hi, I’m Cassie, and Gail has told me so much about you and I’d love to hang out sometime and our kids are the same age and . . .” Yep, oral diarrhea, technically diagnosed as logorrhea,

and I just can’t make it stop. But I suppose that’s better than the actual kind.

As luck would have it, I discovered that Sawyer and Angelique’s middle daughter were on the same soccer team. And at practice one afternoon, Angelique was there on the sidelines — tall, goddess-like, striking with dark-chocolate hair and, although I don’t quite recall the outfit, I do remember thinking at the time, “that’s pretty chic for soccer practice.” Angelique, I began to realize, had impeccable style, both in fashion and, I learned as the months went by, in what had become increasingly an interest of mine, interiors.

I fought the immediate urge to run over and say hi. And I didn’t. In fact, we didn’t really become good friends for months after that. As I sat on a blanket with Emmy watching Sawyer run down the soccer field, I took one look at myself and the word that came to mind was “frumpy.” Ill-fitting jeans, a worn T-shirt and hair that had been plopped up on top of my head just to keep it out of my tired face. Ultrachic Angelique seemed clearly out of my leggings-count-as-pants league.

But, as the years trotted along in Myersville, our kids got to know each other in school. Soon, Emmy was asking to play with Angelique’s youngest daughter, Genevieve. The girls were too young to make those plans themselves but old enough to choose their own playmates. I can’t remember who broke the ice first, but once we started chipping away, the rest melted.

Slowly, Angelique and I got to know each other. What started as a mutual passion for design and fashion blossomed into a deep interest in what else we held dear and what terrified us. We are both dreamers who thrive on the creative back-and-forth more than the final product. But where I am all fire and have a

“go” kind of energy, Angelique is a soft place to land, contemplative, compassionate and an incredible listener. Day by day, week by week, month by month, as we allowed ourselves to become more vulnerable and share our innermost trials, tribulation and triumphs, we became trusted confidantes through all of life’s beauty and messiness.

When she became caretaker for her elderly father, I listened as she navigated a new stage in life. And when I suffered several miscarriages, Angelique’s nonjudgmental, empathetic ear saw me through. In fact, so thrilled that baby Wilder was finally growing in my belly, she insisted on throwing me a baby shower. I assured her I didn’t need one and was met with, “But I want to do this for you, Cassie.” While it may have taken years, Gail was right. No, off the bat, we didn’t hit it off, but practice makes perfect and now we’re each others biggest cheerleaders.

One of our favorite outings was to make the hour-long trek to Ikea, lists in our hands and dreams of affordable Swedish-made furniture and decor in our heads. The drive offered the opportunity for coffee and conversation. On one occasion, as we glided south on I-95, the topic of women supporting women came up — after all, we both co-owned female-led businesses. I said something to the effect of, “Sometimes it’s a case of feeling mutually intimidated that can lead to two women missing out on what could actually be a great friendship.”

While I hadn’t actually been referring to us, Angelique, in the passenger seat, sheepishly peered at me out of the corner of her eye and quipped, “Yeah, let’s not let that happen again.”

That’s the moment it dawned on me. All that time I’d lost thinking I wasn’t worthy of Angelique, she had been intimidated by me. She saw me as smart, casually stylish and totally confident in who I was. Turns out, that intimidation was just mutual admiration.

I pick up my phone, press Angelique’s number and wait for her to pick up. OH

Cassie Bustamante is editor of O.Henry magazine.

TRUST THE TIMING

Make the move

Like many people who grew up in the Triad, JEROMY AND TIA BAILEY once believed their future would take them elsewhere. They first met in seventh grade, then later reconnected while attending Winston-Salem State University, where their relationship took shape.

Career opportunities carried their family beyond North Carolina. Jeromy’s work led to several moves over the years, each one bringing perspective and growth while clarifying what mattered most: Raising their boys close to family. Setting roots. Finding a place that could support both career and everyday life.

Greensboro became that place. With support from Boomerang Greensboro, Jeromy stepped into a new role with Kontoor Brands, and the Baileys made the move back feeling confident in the timing. Their oldest son, JR, now attends Greensboro Montessori, while younger son James spends his days at the Primrose School at Brassfield. Weekends are filled with soccer and basketball practices, birthday parties, and easy drives to see grandparents.

Today, after years of movement, life feels steady. They are building their next chapter with intention, guided by family, community, and faith in the path ahead.

As Jeromy puts it, “Get over the initial fear, step out on faith, and make that move.”

Thinking about making the move back? LET’S TALK.

Boomerang Greensboro is here to help you write your next chapter.

For more info, contact Cecelia Thompson: cthompson@actiongreensboro.org 336.387.8354 • BoomerangGSO.com

Learn More:

Love

There’s so much to love about our 45-acre campus! Art galleries, history exhibits, walking trails, free tours along with 155 businesses, salons, bakery, coffee kiosk, pizzeria, event center and more!

The Man in the Mirror

And the power of a slow and careful shave

By Jim DoDsoN

Acouple months ago, somewhat out of the blue, I had a small awakening.

I decided to shave the way my father did on every morning of his life — a slow and careful ritual performed at the bathroom sink, facing himself in the mirror. Sounds a bit silly, I know. But rather than shave quickly in the shower with a disposable razor as I’d done since college, purely in the interest of saving time and getting on to work, life and whatever else the day held, it occurred to me that my dad might have been on to something important.

During our final trip to England and Scotland in 1995, we had nine wonderful days of golf and intimate conversations. My dad’s cancer had returned, and he didn’t have long to live, but to look at him go at that moment you never would have guessed it.

During one of our last evenings in St Andrews, I remarked how curious it was that he still used his old-fashioned “safety” razor. He smiled and explained, “With this kind of razor you must take your time. I always found shaving a good moment to look at the old fellow in the mirror and ask myself, so who are you? And what small thing can you do today for someone in this big and troubled world?”

As a little kid in the late 1950s, you see, I sometimes sat on the closed toilet seat chatting with him as he performed his morning shaving routine. I have no memory of things we talked about, but do remember how he sometimes hummed (badly, I must note — the result of a natural tin ear) and once recited a ditty I recall to this day.

“Between the cradle and the grave, Jimmy, lies but a haircut and a shave.”

For years, I thought this bit of mortal whimsy was original with him, an adman with a poet’s heart, only to learn that it was really something he picked up from an old Burgess Meredith film. No matter. His shaving routine utterly enthralled me. He began by filling the sink with steaming hot water and washing his face, holding a hot cloth against his skin. Next, he would pat his face dry with a towel and apply shaving cream in a slow, circular motion with a soft-bristled brush from a mug of soap he’d worked into a lather. I can still hear the faint swipe of his razor as it did its job.

As he aged, he abandoned the brush and mug in favor of an aerosol can of shaving cream, simply for convenience. But he never gave up his old-style “safety” razor that he used till the end of his days.

Watching him shave almost felt like observing a holy act. And maybe to him, it was.

I wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear him say this. My nickname for my dad — as I’ve mentioned before — was “Opti the Mystic,” owing to his knack for doing small acts of kindness for strangers. With several mates from the Sunday School class he moderated for a couple decades, for example, he helped establish a feeding ministry that is going strong to this day.

Another time, as I recounted in my book Final Rounds, he picked me up from guitar practice with a depressed and drunken Santa in his car. He’d found the poor man wandering around his office’s empty parking lot, threatening to shoot himself during the holidays. We took him to a local diner and fed him a good meal so he could sober up a bit. Then, we drove him home to his tiny house on the east side of town. As he got out of our car, Opti discreetly slipped him a $50 bill and suggested that he buy his wife something nice for Christmas. The man thanked my dad, looked at me and growled, “You’re [effing] lucky, kid, to have an old man like this, a real Southern gentleman. Merry Christmas.”

I was indeed. But frankly, it wasn’t always easy having a dad who cheerfully spoke to everyone he met and never seemed to lose his cool in any situation. Another time, I came home from college to find that my mom had impulsively given 10 grand out of their savings to a “needy young woman” at the Colonial grocery store. I was incredulous and wondered why she did this,

pointing out that the woman was probably just a con artist.

“Because your father would have done the same thing,” she calmly answered.

“True,” Opti chipped with a wry smile. “Just not that much.”

As we sipped an expensive brandy Winston Churchill had reportedly preferred during the war on that distant night in Scotland, I reminded him of the famous Colonial store giveaway and the good laugh we shared over it for years.

The story brought home to me how much I was going to miss this very good man. He then told me something that raised a big lump to my throat.

“When your granddad was dying, he asked me to give him a proper shave so he would look presentable when he met his maker.”

My late grandfather — whose name, Walter, I share — was a simple working man of the outdoors who probably only darkened the doorway of a church a few times in his life. Yet he wanted to meet his maker clean-shaven.

“So, I gave him a nice, slow shave. He even asked for a bit of spice aftershave. It made him happy. He died peacefully a day or so later.”

We sipped our brandy in silence. “Maybe someday,” Opti remarked, almost as a second thought, “you can do the same for me.”

By this point, I could barely speak. I simply nodded.

Five months later, on a sleety March night, I did just that.

Which may explain why, as I approach the age Opti was when we made our journey together, the idea of carefully shaving in front of the bathroom mirror suddenly seemed like a good thing to do in these days of such social turmoil and chaos.

And so, for my birthday this month, I gave myself a new chrome Harry’s razor and took up the slow shaving ritual I’ve known about since I was knee-high to a bathroom sink.

Most mornings, I now find myself facing the man in the mirror, asking what small thing can I do today to makes someone’s life a little better?

It’s only a start. I’m nowhere near Opti’s level of grace yet. But I find myself frequently smiling in the grocery store and offering kind words to complete strangers. I’m even driving with greater courtesy in traffic.

Someday, hopefully many years from now, I may need to ask my son or daughter to give me a slow, final shave before I meet my maker.

Or maybe I’ll ask my brand-new granddaughter to handle the job when she’s grown up a bit.

Whoever it is, the man in the mirror will be deeply, and forever, grateful. OH

Jim Dodson is founding editor of O.Henry magazine. His 17th book, The Road That Made America: A Modern Pilgrim Travels the Great Wagon Road, is available wherever books are sold.

Make a Pilgrimage from the Mountains to the Sea

Explore inspiring landscape exhibitions at two of North Carolina’s renowned museums.

The Blowing Rock Art & History Museum (BRAHM) and the Cameron Art Museum (CAM) are featuring two exhibitions this winter and spring that should be seen together: Patrick Dougherty: Pilgrimage at BRAHM and From Mountains to Sea at CAM.

PRESENTED TO THE COMMUNITY BY WELLS

ENTER TO WIN A BRAHM AND CAM WEEKEND GETAWAY

Your chance to enjoy a memorable art experience including four nights in luxurious accommodations. What you could win: Private guided tours of Patrick Dougherty: Pilgrimage and From Mountains to Sea

Welcome baskets with an array of hand-selected gifts from BRAHM and CAM

Two nights at the Gideon Ridge Inn in Blowing Rock · Two nights at Trailborn Surf and Sound in Wrightsville Beach

ENTER TODAY Ohenrymag.com/artgetaway

FARGO

SAZERAC

"A spirited forum of Gate City food, drink, history, art, events, rumors and eccentrics worthy of our famous namesake"

Window on the Past

Guilford County has many ties to historical figures, but one of the most significant is the upbringing of former First Lady Dolley Madison. She was renowned for her social grace and writing, which is evident in this poem written to her friend, Madeleine Dahlgren, on Valentine’s Day, 1849.

For Miss Dahlgren

Deliberate on all things, with thy friend, But since friends grow not thick on every bough, First, on thy friend deliberate with thyself, Then, ponder self, not eager in the choice, Nor jealous of the chosen fixing, fix Judge before friendship, then confide till death.

Sage Gardener

An earwig can be as irritating as it is haunting, especially at 3 a.m., when you can’t quite remember the correct lyrics to the song: “She once was a true love of mine” swirl around with “parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,” which triggers a mental inventory of the state of my herb garden. Rosemary? Check, big bush of it near the goldfish pond. Thyme? Got it in spades. Parsley? It’s struggling but will rebound. Sage? I’ll need to order seeds or find some plants. Now can I go back to sleep?

Not until I get up and listen to “Scarborough Fair” — and learn (just in time for Valentine’s Day) that the four herbs combined constitute a love potion, parsley for comfort, sage for strength, rosemary for love and thyme for courage. And also that Paul Simon once sang the song on The Muppet Show in duet with Miss Piggy, both dressed as Renaissance minstrels.

That’s the sort of thing you discover when, in the middle of the night, you go down the gopher-tortoise hole (because gopher tortoise burrows contain the likes of coral snakes, beetles, skunks, gopher frogs and other critters you’d never find going down a rabbit hole).

Parsley, Petroselinum (from the Greek “rock celery”) crispum: While Greeks fed parsley to their race horses, the Romans spread parsley throughout their empire, convinced it warded off infection and masked the smell of garlic. (Do not try this at home.) In medieval times, it was thought to provoke lust and love. So, who wouldn’t want this excellent companion plant in their garden, warding off asparagus beetles and attracting bees and hoverflies, which everybody knows feast on aphids and thrips? Any chef realizes that it brightens even the most complex dish when sprinkled just before serving and anything grilled benefits from the addition of parsley, butter and lemon.

Sage, Salvia (from the Latin “salvere,” meaning “to be saved”) officinalis: Sage is native to the Mediterranean region, but naturalized throughout the world, including here in North America, where some Indian tribes consider it a sacred herb. In fact, many have adopted the Native American tradition of burning sage for spiritual

purification. It thrives in well-drained, slightly acidic soil and needs lots of sun to create maximum flavor. Avoid overwatering or too much fertilizer. Its earthy flavor blends with almost anything and is such an essential Southern spice in pork that the Neese’s sausage people offer an “extra sage” variety. Green cheese? English Derby with sage added.

Rosemary, Rosmarinus (Latin for dew of the sea) officinalis: Just so you know, Napoleon’s eau de cologne was based on rosemary. Greeks thought that wearing a garland of it improved memory and there’s some current scientific evidence supporting that. In medieval times, rosemary was used in both funeral and weddings as a symbol of happiness, loyalty and love, but was also thought to attract elves. Rosemary does not grow well in containers, needing light, well-drained soil. Harvest rosemary just before it flowers for maximum flavor.

Thyme, Thymus vulgaris (although there are hundreds of varieties): Among other mythical and historical applications, thyme was burned to rid homes and temples of insects and snakes; carried by Roman soldiers into battle for courage and strength; used in charms to enable one to see fairies; and seen as an antidote to snake and spider bites. Thyme is hardy, loves sunlight and can spread like a miniature form of kudzu once established. Besides being an excellent food preservative, thyme oil is antioxidant, antifungal and antibacterial.

The song itself? The melody is centuries old and was collected from a retired lead miner by Ewan MacColl, a British folklorist, singer and songwriter. Simon & Garfunkel, in turn, collected and recorded the melody. The lyrics about unrequited love became famous after its inclusion in a movie about the very same thing: The Graduate. Except for the presumed availability of the four herbs in medieval Scarborough in Yorkshire, England, the lyrics contain a lot more advice for the lovelorn than for gardeners, true of most rock’n’roll. But my lady did indeed find me an acre of land, and that’s true love.

— David Claude Bailey

Unsolicited Advice

As soon as the last of the leftover Super Bowl chicken wings are finished, we'll finally be done with football season and we can then focus on what’s more important: crafting! Galentine’s Day is right around the corner and — we don’t know about you, but after all the touchdown talk — we’re in desperate need of a girls’ night. So while the boys sulk about their team not making it to the playoffs — yet, again — we cooked up some fun activities for you to do with your gal pals.

When was the last time you put your creative skills to the test? Watercolor paint, a couple of canvases and a bottle of wine is all that is needed to uncork a proper sip-and-paint night for the gals. And as the cups fill and the paint strokes the canvas, your abstract art will look a lot like Picasso’s, especially through wine goggles.

Even with the simplest of instructions, baking can be difficult. But as bad at baking as we are, two is often better than one in the kitchen, especially if your friend is a little more skillful with a whisk. As long as you fake it until you bake it, the toughest of recipes can become smooth as batter and you can show that pound cake who’s boss. So grab a friend and make that pie recipe — it’s as easy as, well, pie.

There’s something so freeing about making a mess, especially when it allows for a perfect display of memories. Scrapbooking lets you fly your freak flag without any judgement. It's all for you, the girls and no one else. We are a patchwork of pieces, so our scrapbooks should be too. Now, pull out the scissors, paper and your hot glue gun and make a mess — a hot mess.

Just One Thing

Renowned artist Joyce J. Scott, nicknamed the “Queen of Beads,” has stitched a path of her own through the quilting world, which obviously includes beadwork. But mothers are often the first to guide us through our crafting journeys, and, with the quilt Monsters, Dragons and Flies, it’s no different. Joyce and her mother, Elizabeth T. Scott, pieced together retrospective work that expands upon the traditional ideas of quiltmaking. With its appliquéd patterns and series of hand-embroidered images, the quilt the mother-daughter duo collaborated on found its way across the country. Catch this piece and many more by other African American quilters at the Weatherspoon Art Museum’s Of Salt and Spirit: Black Quilters in the American South exhibit, on view from Feb. 7–Aug. 1 — an exhibit fit for a queen.

Elizabeth Talford Scott and Joyce J. Scott, Monsters, Dragons, and Flies. 1982. Fabric, thread, beads, 68 x 57 inches.

Terms and Conditions: $300 off any order of $1198 or more,$200 off any order of $998-$1198 or $100 off any order of $698-$998, on any complete custom closet, garage,or home office unit. Not valid with any other offer. Freeinstallation with any complete unit order of $600 or more. With incoming order, at time of purchase only. For a limited time SPECIAL FINANCING for 18 months *with approved credit* Expires in 90 days. Offer not valid in all regions.

AQUARIUS

JANUARY 20 – FEBRUARY 18

Buckle up, space cadet. The new moon eclipse on February 17 is going to be what the normies call “a moment” — especially for you. Yes, you’re different. We know, we know. But when you’re done trying on hats for the thrill of it, a seismic shift will occur in the quirky little core of your being. Reinvention is no longer performative. It’s the only path forward. Believe it or not, the world is ready for the weirdest version of you. Are you ready?

Tea leaf “fortunes” for the rest of you:

Pisces (February 19 – March 20)

Wear the lacy blue ones.

Aries (March 21 – April 19)

A little dab will do.

Taurus (April 20 – May 20)

Milk and honey, darling.

Gemini (May 21 – June 20)

Don’t forget the reservations.

Cancer (June 21 – July 22)

Three words: breakfast in bed.

Leo (July 23 – August 22)

You can buy yourself flowers.

Virgo (August 23 – September 22)

Order the fancy entrée.

Libra (September 23 – October 22)

Just tell them how you feel already.

Scorpio (October 23 – November 21)

Edible is the operative word.

Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21)

Try flirting with a deeper perspective.

Capricorn (December 22 – January 19)

Hint: polka dots. OH

Zora Stellanova has been divining with tea leaves since the Game of Thrones’ Starbucks cup mishap of 2019. While she’s not exactly a medium, she’s far from average. She lives in the N.C. foothills with her Sphynx cat, Lyla.

Phone Home? No problem — if

I can find it

By maria Joh NsoN

Because my husband, Jeff, and I are happily in a phase of life when we’re done with climbing ladders — both the corporate and the guttercleaning kinds — people will sometimes ask us, “How do spend your time?”

That’s easy: We look for our cell phones. A lot.

So much so that we’re considering getting a landline again just so we can call our misplaced mobile phones.

Either that, or I’m gonna tape an oversized silk flower to my phone, like they do with pens at a bank.

Side note: If you still enjoy walking into a bank, pouring a jar of pennies into a coin-counting machine and feeling rich when you walk out with $12 in paper money, we could be friends.

More on this later. Back to the phone story.

Thank goodness, Jeff and I usually lose our cell phones one at a time, often while the other person is home.

Take the other day.

There we were, sitting in his upstairs office, sipping coffee and talking about our plans for the day, which, at that idyllic point, did not include spending a good chunk of the morning looking for my phone.

Mainly because I was holding my phone, glancing at my texts.

Then I decided to be more “present.”

Sigh.

See, we sometimes get on each other’s nerves by looking at our phones while the other one is talking. I know. It sucks. Especially when you’re the one who’s doing the talking.

Not so much when you’re “listening.”

Anyway, I realized that I was paying more attention to my friend’s text recommending a podcast called Dogs of Chernobyl than to what Jeff was saying, so I set my phone aside to focus on his words.

“Mmmm-hmmm,” I affirmed.

“I seeeee,” I validated.

“Gotcha,” I mirrored.

The next thing I know, I’m getting ready for the day, and I can’t find my phone.

Here, I would like to say that I don’t spend anywhere near the amount of time that the average American woman my age spends on her phone, which is . . . standby while I look this up on

my (spoiler alert) phone … five hours and 17 minutes a week.

My weekly screen time is . . . hold on while I look this up, too.

Hmm.

Never mind. Not important. What’s important is that I had a busy day ahead of me, but I couldn’t tell exactly how I was going to be busy without consulting the calendar on my phone.

Plus, how was I going to listen to Dogs of Chernobyl in the gym?

So, I did the most common-sense thing: I remembered the last time I had my phone — in Jeff’s office — and I returned to the scene.

Jeff was sitting at his desk, calmly working away, as if no crisis were unfolding.

I looked at the couch. No phone.

I felt between the cushions.

No phone.

I crawled around on the floor, looking under the couch.

No phone.

“Have you seen my phone?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

I retraced my steps. Office to bedroom to bathroom.

Bathroom to bedroom to office.

I closed the loop.

No phone.

“I’ll call it,” Jeff offered.

I appreciated his help, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. My ringer was turned off, mainly because during the daytime I’m swamped with audio alerts from my Mom’s indoor security cameras.

In case you don’t know, these wireless contraptions are truly miraculous, and very helpful in keeping aging parents safe. But they tend to overshare. The cameras, that is.

Hence the silent phone.

But no worries. We had a backup plan for my phone.

“Could you use your Find My app to look it up?” I asked Jeff. He did.

Twice before, this feature — which allows you to track another device — had helped us locate my phone, which I had dropped while hiking in the woods.

Fact: It’s fairly easy to spot a large lavender phone lying on top of leaves beside a trail.

A Family Caring for Families

As a family-owned and operated home care agency, we are dedicated to helping individuals stay in the comfort of their own homes. In 2010, Lisa Clapp Hmiel faced a heartbreaking turning point when a devastating race car accident left her son paralyzed, prompting her to leave her family’s nursing home. This profound experience led Lisa and her youngest son, Tyler, to open Home Helpers of Jamestown in 2013, with a mission to ensure everyone receives the same compassionate care their family needed

But this time, on Find My, the gray dot representing my phone covered half the outline of our house.

Which meant a lot more potential hiding places.

For the sake of space, I will condense the next hour of our lives into a cartoon. You know the Family Circle comic where the mom asks Billy to go next door to tell Dolly it’s time for dinner, and the next frame shows Billy’s footprints all over the neighborhood, through swing sets and see-saws and hopscotch grids, before landing at the neighbor’s house?

Well, that was us.

Like tourists in a big city, following GPS “walking directions” by turning this way and that, waiting for the satellite to catch up and move their arrow in the right direction, we wandered through the house, delicately holding Jeff’s phone in front of us, following it like a magical beacon.

“I feel like a water witch with a divining rod,” Jeff said.

“Shhh!” I whispered, as if my iPhone might hear us and scurry away. “Look! We’re moving.”

At WhiteStone, retirement is more than a chapter – it’s a gift you’ve given yourself. Here, purpose meets connection, and every day is an opportunity to enjoy the rewards of thoughtful planning and meaningful living.

Stroll our scenic grounds surrounded by nature’s beauty, explore new hobbies that spark curiosity and joy, and form friendships that feel like family.

Experience a lifestyle where every day feels like a celebration of the well-planned life you deserve.

My phone’s gray dot hovered near a wall that separated two rooms.

We searched both rooms.

Even though I was fairly certain I had not gone downstairs, we searched there, too, because the gray dot did not indicate which floor it was on.

Times like this, you realize how far you will go, trying to make a story make sense.

I found myself looking in my sock drawer.

In my nightstand.

In the laundry basket.

Inside the flippin’ dog food bin, for gawd sakes.

“Well, I don’t remember stirring the salmon and rice kibble with my iPhone, but you never know. I mean, the dot says you’re right here.”

Finally, I gave up and announced that I was going to the gym without my phone.

“If you find it . . . don’t call me,” I said, forlorn. “I’ll be in the gym, watching Stephen A. Smith with no sound.”

Side note: Watching ESPN’s First Take commentator Stephen A. Smith with no

sound is almost as much fun as watching him with sound. Almost.

While I was out, I announced, I would run a few errands, including picking up some brackets to mount a wall hanging. I walked into a bedroom at the other end of the house to double-check the size of the wall hanging.

Yep.

There it was.

On the bed.

Next to the wall hanging.

My iPhone.

Obviously I had gone in there, at some point, after talking to Jeff that morning. I probably needed to lie down because I was so exhausted from being “present.”

Anyway, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

“AHA!” I shouted from our older son’s childhood room. “Found it!”

“Where?” Jeff called from his office.

“In John’s room,” I hollered.

A few seconds passed. I knew Jeff was calculating.

“That app is not accurate inside of 30 or 40 feet,” he said.

“Mmm-hmmm,” I said absentmindedly, following my friend’s link to Dogs of Chernobyl.

A few more seconds ticked by.

Any second, I thought, he would walk into the room with his iPhone to test his theory.

Instead, I heard a plea.

“Do me a favor?” he said.

“Sure,” I replied.

“Call my iPhone?” OH

Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry magazine. Email her at ohenrymaria@gmail.com. Oh, and about the pennies: As you probably know, the U.S. is no longer minting pennies. To eulogize this wee legal tender, Maria would like to hear your funny, quirky and touching stories about pennies — flattened into a museum token, or stuck in someone’s nose, or fished from a fountain, or stuck in a fuse box, or found in a freaky place, or collected for a special cause. You get the idea. Email your contribution to Maria with TWO CENTS in the subject line.

Refacing

Redooring

New Cabinets | Cabinet Painting | Counte rtops

Wealth Management Built Around You.

From left to right: Front Row: Phillip H. Joyce, Vice President/Investments, Karla D. Johnson, CFP®, Financial Advisor, Justin P. Vidovich, Financial Advisor, Jacqueline T. Wieland, AIF®, Senior Vice President/Investments, Grant Gillespie, Financial Advisor Back Row: Christopher T. Barbee, CFP®, First Vice President/Investments, J. Scott, CFP®, Senior Vice President/Investments, Paul A. Vidovich, CFP®, Branch Manager, First Vice President/Investments, Gregory E. Gonzales, Senior Vice President/Investments, Allen Hammonds, Vice President/Investments, Chip Pegram, First Vice President/Investments, Portfolio Manager – Solutions Program

| www.stifel.com

The Theft That Wasn’t

The tale of the lost and found Picasso

By A nne Blythe

Most of us have heard that old cliché “Kids say the darnedest things,” but few of us could imagine getting the kind of phone call that Whitcomb Mercer Rummel Sr. received in March 1969 from his eldest child. There was nothing cliché or cutesy about it.

“Hey, Dad, I accidentally stole a Picasso,” Bill Rummel said to his father nearly 57 years ago. What happened afterward is a bit of creative skullduggery that has been concealed in the annals of one family’s history far longer than one of the key participants would have liked.

Whit Rummel Jr., a filmmaker who lives in Chapel Hill, and Noah Charney, an American art historian and fiction writer based in Slovenia, have written The Accidental Picasso Thief: The True Story of a Reverse Heist, Outrunning the FBI and Fleeing the Boston Mob to share that story with the rest of the world.

Disclosure: I have known Whit Rummel, the author, for many years, relishing in his stories and adventures. Although I’ve heard bits and pieces of this story before, this is the first time I’ve been able to soak it all in.

As Whit Rummel, the only surviving member of the trio that pulled off the so-called “reverse heist” writes, the book — part memoir, part true crime — “is the story of one of the oddest art crimes in American history.”

It’s a tale Rummel has wanted to share in full for decades but couldn’t — for reasons ranging from fear of the famous mobster Whitey Bulger, to respect for a brother’s wishes and a dogged hunt for the location of the painting. In June 2023 The New York Times ran a story titled “Hey Dad, Can You Help Me Return the Picasso I Stole?” but Rummel had more to say.

It begins in 1969. Whit Sr. was an empty-nester with his wife in Waterville, Maine. He was the owner of a popular restaurant near Interstate 95 and an ice cream store with in-house creamery serving up unique and enticing flavors like Icky Orgy.

Bill Rummel was in his mid-20s at the time, working as a forklift operator at Logan Airport in Boston moving crates around the world for Emery Air Freight. A historic snowstorm hit the

East Coast, leaving chaos in its wake. As flights were delayed and diverted, Bill loaded several flats into the trunk of his car from pesky “orphan” piles clogging up the outbound area. Wrapped up in one of those flats was a Pablo Picasso original, Portrait of a Woman and a Musketeer, that was en route from Paris to a gallery owner in Milwaukee.

Unlike his younger brother, Whitcomb Mercer Jr., Bill wasn’t particularly interested nor appreciative of art and didn’t realize a valuable painting was in his possession. When he found out what he’d inadvertently done, he called his brother, a passionate art lover, who was at Tulane University at the time. After several phone calls, Bill and Whit decided it was time to call their dad, a man they called “the fixer.”

Whit Sr. and his wife, Ann, had moved to Maine in the ’50s and raised their sons there. The boys had a mischievous streak in them, perhaps inherited from a father who relished taking them on “wild goose chases.”

Whit and Bill, now in young adulthood, needed their father’s guidance. What should they do with the stolen Picasso? This was no wild goose chase. They had heard the FBI was on the hunt for the painting. To make matters worse, rumor was that Whitey Bulger’s notorious Winter Hill Gang also was searching for it, threatening anyone trying to move in on their airport turf.

“Our father, after all, was the grand fixer. The one guy who’d always been there for us, pulling us out of whatever kind of jam we’d found ourselves in (and there had been many),” Whit writes. Their dad reeled off several options. One was keep the painting, bury it under the floor of the Waterville restaurant and uncover it some years later, feigning shock and surprise. The other option? “He said maybe there was a way to return it. Without letting anybody know who took it,” Bill told his brother.

That’s the option they chose. Whit Jr. got instructions from his dad. “I want you to write a brief note to accompany the return of the painting,” his dad said. “Nothing long or complex.

OMNIVOROUS

Just a few mysterious sentences to put them off the track of someone like Bill.”

To this day, Whit chuckles at the note he composed with intentional “grammatical quirks.”

PLEASE ACCEPT THIS TO REPLACE IN PART SOME OF THE PAINTINGS REMOVED FROM MUSEUMS ACROSS THE COUNTRY. — ROBBIN’ HOOD.

Whit Sr. and Bill would don costumes, fake mustaches and fedoras, get in a Chevy Impala and set off to return the Picasso at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. An unexpected sighting of an employee near the loading dock upset their plans, but eventually the painting made it to the museum. A blurb announcing its return was in the news, and the Rummels went on with their lives, though their dad would die suddenly just a few years later, in 1972.

As the years went by Whit wanted to make a movie about the unwitting theft, but his brother wanted it to remain a secret, though Bill did do an interview about the incident with This American Life that never aired. He passed away in 2015.

There are some differences in the version Bill told then and what Whit remembers from their phone calls when his brother first told him he had “a friggin’ Picasso.” In the book, Whit shares both versions of how his brother recounted coming into possession of the crate. Though Whit never accuses his brother of knowingly taking the painting, he acknowledges there could be doubts about his intentions.

The book details the surviving Rummel brother’s search for the painting now and his hope to one day have his picture taken in front of it with his son, another Whit Rummel, and a nephew who shares their name, too. If that were to happen, the three — named for “the fixer” — would be “smiling proudly and loudly now, because our story has finally been told.”

For anybody who cares about art, the creation of it, and the quirkiness that makes families special, it’s a story worth telling, reading and even telling again. OH

Anne Blythe has been a reporter in North Carolina for more than three decades.

QW HAPPENINGS & NEWS

• Give the Gift of Romance! Special Packages and Getaways at O.Henry & Proximity Book online at ohenryhotel.com or proximityhotel.com

• QW Valentine’s Gift Central Overnight Stays and Gift Cards. Visit qwrh.com, ohenryhotel.com, printworksbistro.com, greenvalleygrill.com or lucky32.com

• O.Henry LIVE Jazz! Every Thursday from 6-9 PM and Pop-Up Shows from 7-10 PM in the Social Lobby. See the schedule at ohenryhotel.com

• LIVE Music Every Wednesday at Lucky 32! AM rOdeO (Jessica Mashburn & Evan Olson) 6-9 PM lucky32.com

• Artist-in-Residence Chip Holton at L32! Live painting Wednesday – Sunday 12-2 PM and 6-8 PM. Stop by!! lucky32.com

• Weddings | Meetings | Retreats | Events | Group Accommodations Learn more ohenryhotel.com or proximityhotel.com

All THREE of our locations offer preventive screenings to help you stay ahead on health:

• Cardiac Screenings

• Bone Density

• CT Lung Screenings

• Mammograms

Schedule your screening exams at Outpatient Imaging. Keep your family’s health on track.

• Full-Service Window Treatment Design

• Professional Measuring & Installation

• Exclusive Hunter Douglas Products

• Custom Drapery, Shades, Shutters & More

• Local, Trusted Expertise for over 15 years

Kissing Fashion Crimes Goodbye

Confessing to questionable dressing

By C ynthi A A dA ms

Afew friends met at a wine bar where our topics flowed as freely as the wine. We’re a book club, yet we discuss (in no particular order) books, travel, headlines and get-ups we deeply regretted having ever worn outside the house.

It took getting wine-d up to confess regrettables we not only had worn but that we still had hanging in our closets. Bohemian garb the late Diane Keaton might have managed to swan around in, but not us mere mortals.

Somehow, crimes of the heart figured into our respective fashion offense confessionals.

I will not name names, but, among other things, one friend confesses to wearing Boogie Nights-like neon running shorts with pantyhose, topped by a yellow scoop-neck shirt (sporting a frog graphic). This was her “kiss outfit,” so-named not after Kiss the band, but because it was worn to sneak with her sixth-grade boyfriend to the attic for a long-planned smooching session.

She lost her nerve and bolted before kiss consummation, a shame because the boyfriend moved away and became an actor in Friends.

“He was much more complex than the character he played,” she insists as we mopped tears of laughter from our eyes.

Another friend, who formerly owned a vintage clothing store,

thought nothing of wearing a head-to-toe tie-dyed ensemble. “I thought I looked great,” she says, laughing and choking on a sip.

Tie-dye, overalls, suede jackets with long fringe were all cherished fashion staples. She especially enjoyed sporting a beloved polka-dotted tent dress.

A favorite admission following a pinot noir: “If the hemline of my skirt was longer than my fingertips, then it was too long.” We envision our friend twirling away in her polka-dotted dress and laugh even harder.

My own confession centers around a big yellow school bus and Johnny Teeter, my first big crush, who drove No. 15 to Bethel Elementary.

Love for Johnny drove me to commit a most regrettable fashion misfire.

As Mom tamed my hair into a ponytail most mornings, Johnny honked the horn and waited. My skinny knees knocked together as I ran down the gravel drive, kicking up a cloud of dust. I was breathless by the time the bus door swung open; not due to exertion but the thundering of my heart as Johnny flashed his beautiful pearly whites. He had many assets, but I thought he had the most amazing smile I’d ever seen.

If I got into a scuffle with Buddy the bus bully, Johnny would stop the bus and intervene, pulling me safely to a seat.

Johnny was the perfect guy.

Regrettably, he thought I was too young, which increased my ardor to prove a 12-year difference between a 6- and 18-year-old

meant nothing.

But how?

One fine morning, I slipped out of the house wearing my mother’s purloined girdle (pinned up) and sexy stockings. It was my version of a kiss outfit, hoping to strike Johnny with just how mature I had grown in recent weeks. As I crossed the road with shoulders high, hoping to catch his eye, the thing fell down, puddled around my brown penny loafers. I had certainly caught his eye.

Johnny jumped out, bundling the girdle and hose into my book bag. Red faced, I took a seat on the bus as Buddy bellowed with laughter.

Was it love that was driving me and my friends to assorted, well-intended, fashion mortifications?

Like toting my awkward leather prison purse — the one my father tooled during his unfortunate incarceration at Maxwell Air Force Base.

Dad, you see, was a free spirit — so free he stopped paying his income tax until the actual Men in Black from the IRS came to our door and served notice that his life was about to change.

Say what you will about minimumsecurity prisons: The godawful fact was that Dad just so happened to be incarcerated with White House counsel Charles Colson. My father protested to the warden that being sent to the same prison as a Nixon defender was cruel and unusual punishment.

He and Colson peeled potatoes while dissecting the finer points of Watergate. They made prison purses and string art. Despite a wary truce, Dad never trusted Colson’s “jailhouse religion.”

When Dad returned, he presented the leather bag to a daughter who had missed him so with pride. After all, he had spent much of his three months at Maxwell making it. The purse accessorized my permed hair, maxi dresses, pink corduroy hip huggers. It could have been worse.

But I never wore a girdle and hose again, not even in the name of love. OH

Cynthia Adam is a contributing editor to O.Henry magazine.

By susA n CA mpBell

To most folks, especially non-birders, a sparrow is just a sparrow — a small brown bird with varying amounts of streaking and a stubby little bill. Not very impressive. However, in Central and Eastern North Carolina, and especially in winter, nothing could be further from the truth.

Although few sparrow species can readily be found during the breeding season in our area, we have 10 different kinds that regularly spend the cooler months here. These range in size from the husky fox sparrow down to the diminutive chipping sparrow. Without a doubt, my favorite in this group is the swamp sparrow, whose handsome appearance and unique adaptations make it a definite standout.

At this time of the year, these medium-sized sparrows are a warm brown above with black streaking — like so many others — but swamps have a significant amount of chestnut apparent in the wings. The gray face, dark eye line and crown streak contrast sharply with the white throat and breast. The tail is relatively long and rounded, a very good rudder for moving around in the tight quarters where these birds live.

As the bird’s name implies, it is usually found in wetter habitat year-round. With longer legs than their conspecifics, swamp sparrows readily forage in the shallows, searching not only for fallen seeds and berries, but also for aquatic invertebrates. Individuals are even known to flip submerged vegetation with their bills in search of a meal.

The song is a liquid stream of notes that we rarely hear during the cooler months. The call note, however, is very loud and distinctive and uttered frequently. I hear far more of these birds calling from thick, wet habitat than I see along our coast. Swamps give themselves away with a metallic “chink.” If they are

Swamp Song A liquid stream of notes

disturbed, they are hesitant to fly — probably due to their excellent camouflage. Instead, these birds usually choose to run from potential danger. They can maneuver deftly through sticks, stems and branches when pursued.

If a swamp sparrow does fly, it will not be over a great distance. A leery individual will sail to the nearest perch and survey the source of the disturbance, and then it will quickly vanish into thick vegetation.

Birds of wet areas such as these can be attracted to your yard even if you do not live in a coastal or riparian area. They may show up during the spring or fall migration if you can create cover for them. Adding low, thick shrubs such as blueberries or gallberry will help. A simple brush pile adjacent to your feeding station may be enough to get their attention, but in order to really up the odds of attracting a few swamp sparrows, consider creating a small wetland garden. A small depression will attract more than just this species: It will provide for a multitude of native critters and can be used to naturally treat (i.e., filter) household wastewater. Water features of all sizes have become a very popular way to increase wildlife, even on small properties.

Swamp sparrows have been studied for almost a century. It was one of the first species to be banded by ornithologists using modern methodology in the early 1900s. In fact, a banded bird from Massachusetts in October 1937 was relocated in central Florida in January of 1938 having covered a whopping 1,125 miles. This information was some of the earliest data produced on the migration of songbirds in the United States.

The next time you are out walking along the edge of a marshy area or paddling in the shallows, watch and listen for this neat little winter resident. One may pop into view and treat you with a short look. OH

Susan Campbell would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photos. She can be contacted by email at susan@ncaves.com.

By Billy ingr A m

Greensboro Is Your Oyster

And The Pyrle aims to cultivate Elm Street

“I regarded home as a place I left behind in order to come back to it afterward.” –

Ernest Hemingway

Game-changing.

Will that jaundiced misnomer ever cease being bandied about when depicting every precious pearl newly strung to downtown Greensboro’s asymmetrical necklace? Fifty years ago that meant widening sidewalks to create a mall-like experience; truly a game-changer in that it caused retailers to hightail it elsewhere.

Equally emblematic yet undeniably more effective are 21st-century sparklers lit with optimistic expectations for jumpstarting the heart of a city: LeBauer and Center City Parks, the Downtown Greenway pedestrian path, a $22-million baseball stadium, free shuttle-bus rides and Lewis Street’s impressive redevelopments. A new hotel here, a refurbished dry cleaners serving shoyu there — I delight in them all.

While downtown nightclubs light up late nights, there are scant advantages for nearby businesses. Tanger has been a boon, but its positioning at downtown’s outer edge results in attendees transacting predominantly with municipal parking decks. Sauntering southward on Elm reveals vacated storefronts with restaurants rarely slammed. I’ve witnessed first-hand downtown’s glacial evolution from a zip code to be avoided three decades ago into an uneven periphery, one that is populated with pulsating pockets of genuine excitement tucked in and around a central business district seemingly adrift, lacking a metaphorical pair of jeans, if you will, to stitch those pockets onto.

A seismic shift in that dynamic is all but assured as The Pyrle emerges from its makeshift shell later this month, a 1,000-person-capacity music venue and event space at 232 South Elm, just south of Crafted The Art of the Taco. Its mission? To cauterize that chasm currently preventing performers with audiences too zaftig for Ziggy’s from gigging here but lacking in fannies needed to pack Tanger’s 3,000 seats or top off the Coliseum’s 23,000-capacity arena.

The Pyrle (named for Pyrle Gibson in honor of her contributions to our local arts scene) is a total and consummate reimag-

ining of a palatial, dearly-departed department store built almost a century ago for Montgomery Ward; a four-story monument to 20th-century merchandizing that was, for decades, a darkened abyss until Triad Stage stoked some semblance of life into its cavernous maw beginning in 1999 and lasting through 2023’s le scandale. Over the last year, the entire 35,000-square-foot interior was gutted then reanimated, arising not only as a rarified, stateof-the-art performance platform, but also encompassing staging areas for community events and even two unrelated office spaces.

Durant Bell is one of five active investors in this high-stakes venture. “I grew up in Greensboro, went away for school, lived in D.C. for about four years and then moved back about 20 years ago,” he says. In fact, all of The Pyrle’s principal players are longtime Gate City residents and/or boomerangs such as general manager Dominick Amendum, who attended Greensboro College then “moved away, had the first stage of my career before returning about six years ago. I jumped on board with these guys in March of 2024.” One keen interest all of these principals have in common? “We love music,” Bell insists. “One of the great connectors amongst us was finding ourselves going to a lot of shows outside of Greensboro.” And, they thought, why not bring those shows here?

Lacking a mid-plex like The Pyrle has resulted in indie, post-punk, R&B and EDM fans making weekend exoduses, sometimes hours long, just to see their favorite acts. The Pyrle

partnered with The Knitting Factory, a well-established national talent broker. What that means is that Greensboro will become a logical stop for touring bands. “Coming from Richmond to Wilmington to Asheville, we can pick up a lot of these regional bands that are already on that pathway,” says Amendum. “So we got really excited about this opportunity to be a catalyst for Elm Street and for the city.”

Let’s face it, a vibrant live-music culture is one major reason Durham is booming, yet Greensboro, despite numerous wellintentioned pavings, remains perpetually tethered to the proverbial starting gate. “To have a healthy music ecosystem,” Bell claps back, “you need a continuum of venue sizes so that you're attracting artists at all different [levels].” Initially, The Pyrle will mount around two shows a week, ramping up to a goal of about 150 shows a year. “Officially, we are a genre agnostic,” Amendum adds. “We're going to try a lot of everything over these first couple of years.”

Those in the know can snag tickets to four free February shows (visit thepyrle.com/events). Then, after Americana singersongwriter Anders Osborne closes out the month, early bookings continue to reflect that refreshingly eclectic POV — reggae royalty The Wailers, country crooner Ricky Skaggs and alt-rockers Silversun Pickups, for instance. Sprinkled throughout are North Carolina-rooted headliners such as Southern pop-rockers The

talizing twang of Chatham Rabbits with Holler Choir opening. •

What impact will this have for the mother lode of unparalleled creative artists undergirding our scattershot music scene? Amendum’s answer is encouraging: “That's a big thing on my radar right now, how we bring the community onto our stage. Whether it's monthly showcases featuring two or three local bands or as openers for some of these national acts.”

VIP sections, cozy alcoves and aerie overhangs provide for a surprisingly intimate setting with no bad sight lines. “There's not another venue like this in the Southeast,” says Bell, who even queried touring acts for what amenities they’d like, then implemented those suggestions. “When you look at the hospitality suite we have for artists, people's minds are going to be blown. The Knitting Factory, who manage venues all over the country, were here last week and they were like, ‘No other venue has an LED screen this size.’ In five years, they will all have them, but we’re on the cutting edge.”

Planning to be open six days a week, The Pyrle’s polish is its cosmopolitan cocktail lounge at the entrance, lacquered in leather and wood grain. “We’re going to do a bar differently than your typical music venue,” Bell says. “People can go back out to the bar and enjoy basking in the afterglow of that awe-

Ambient screens are tuned to the stage during performances, but on non-show nights, says Amendum, “I love the idea of an ’80s MTV music video night on Tuesdays or maybe Wednesday nights they’re playing some live show that was taped at Red Rock.”

Won’t be long before word gets around, up and down I-85 and 40, that Greensboro’s got game (for a change). OH

Billy Ingram only recently learned about the passing last September of Page High’s former art teacher, a huge influence on me in the ’70s, Elizabeth Bell. I always called her “Ms. Bell” (knowing she was a Mrs.) because she came across as the embodiment of the Modern Woman of that era. Without her instruction, no way I’d have made it as an artist in Hollywood, a reminder that teachers are our community’s most precious assets. We reconnected five years ago through a mutual friend and, while Ms. Bell was suffering from dementia with no recollection concerning the day before, she remembered me clearly. Weird how that works, right?

Our all-inclusive services and amenities empower you to live independently while curating moments that encourage connection and growth. Enjoy engaging events, freshly prepared meals, beautiful accommodations, and so much more! Embrace worryfree days as your story continues at Carolina Pines.

At AudioNova | Doctors Hearing Care, better hearing is always our focus. Dr. Amy Kirkland, Au.D. is committed to provide each patient with an exceptional level of care and attention. She has been one of the triad’s leaders in hearing technology for over 28 years. Call today to schedule your free hearing screening.

Past Life

On the night you read my cards, you told me the spiraling moth was my dead grandfather but you did not tell me we’d be lovers, had been lovers since the first sound waves collided on the ocean floor.

Now I know why I felt like crying when you traced the lines across my palm. Why you looked away when the fire hissed. If you’d kissed me, I would have kissed back.

When I left the dead moth for you in the morning, paper wings outstretched like a faerie scroll across the Three of Swords, I did not know I was seeing my future, spiraling toward your light until the end.

— Ashley Walshe

Ashley Walshe is a former editor of O.Henry Magazine and a longtime contributor to PineStraw.

John Hutton says he can teach anyone to draw U.S. presidents and first ladies. We put him to the test.

By Maria Johnson

Photogra Phs By Mark Wagoner

AFriday afternoon.

A few cans of seltzer water.

A half dozen No. 2 pencils.

A projector.

A teacher who knows what he’s doing.

And a half dozen good-humored students.

Welcome to art class, O.Henry style.

Recently, we drafted a sketchy crew, in the best sense, to mosey over to the magazine’s office in Greensboro’s Revolution Mill.

Our recruits accepted the invitation — OK, it was more of a plea sweetened by the promise of snacks — to test the skills of John Hutton, a professor of art history at Salem College in Winton-Salem.

Hutton claims that he can teach anyone to draw a U.S. president or first lady, and he’s willing to put his executive powers on the line, with good reason.

Last year, his book, aptly named How to Draw U.S. Presidents and First Ladies, was published by the White House Historical Association and won the 2025 American Book Fest Book Award for Best Children’s Novelty and Gift Book.

The workbook gives step-by-step instructions for rendering the 45 men who have served as president.

The book also depicts 47 women — most of whom were actually married to a POTUS.

Two presidents — Woodrow Wilson and John Tyler — were widowed and remarried while in office. They’re shown with two wives each.

One prez, James Buchanan, was a lifelong bachelor. His niece, Harriet Lane, served as the de facto first lady, socially speaking, so she graces Hutton’s pages just as she graced 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

And yes, dear reader, you can consider yourself ready for trivia night when Presidents’ Day rolls around on the 16th of this month.

Back to art class. On the day we gather, Hutton is full of fun facts for our students, who are friends and office neighbors of the magazine.

Participants include State Farm Insurance agents Margo and Archie Herring; Susan Sinnott, office manager of Alem Dickey Keel Interior Design; Pam Garner, president of Triad Sales & Recruiting Solutions; Harsha Mirchandani, development director for College Pathways of the Triad; and Moe Miles, who, with his wife Autumn, owns and operates Greenlove Coffee.

As they arrive, everyone wants to make one thing clear: In no way does their drawing ability reflect their professional prowess.

Basically, there’s not a shred of formal art training in the whole lot, and no one wants to be judged harshly for their portraiture.

They are the perfect fodder for Hutton, who puts them at ease right away. Good drawing is re-drawing, he assures them. He spends hours getting his drawings right. And this is a guy who has done a dozen youth-oriented picture books for the White House historical group.

His 13th book, honoring the 250th anniversary of our republic’s founding, will be available this spring.

In other words, Hutton knows whereof he speaks — and inks. He’s been drawing his whole life.

Growing up in the well-heeled suburb of Pound Ridge outside New York City, Hutton plastered his family’s fridge with drawings of animals and cars.

He honed his chops at Princeton University, where he studied studio art, then at Harvard, where he earned a master’s degree in art history.

In grad school, he illustrated children’s books as a side hustle. Years later, a friend from Harvard hooked him up with the White House history folks, who needed a freelance illustrator.

“He gave me my big-little break,” says Hutton, who also has illustrated books for Old Salem Museum & Gardens. “I love to paint more than anything else.”

He calls his rookie class to order.

In front of them, he says, they will find oval templates printed with grid lines.

The grids, used by portrait artists for centuries, rely on the fact that most people’s facial features follow a predictable pattern.

A person’s eyes, nose and mouth usually fall below the horizontal midline of the oval. Ears line up with noses, and so on.

Faces appear unique because of their slight variations: big or small noses, arched or straight eyebrows, beady or wide eyes, thin or fat lips.

Using this framework and careful observation, Hutton says, anyone can accurately plot facial features on a grid.

But they can still face-plant if they flub the sizes of the features relative to each other.

“I think most portraits done today are ‘blah’ because they get the proportions wrong,” he says.

First subject: Abraham Lincoln.

Turns out, Honest Abe is fairly easy-peasy to draw, even without his stovepipe hat.

Hutton directs his charges to start with the Great Emancipator’s schnoz.

Notch a “V” just below the second horizontal line on the grid, he tells them. That’s the tip of the nose.

Add flared nostrils and keep your pencils moving upward.

This brings you to the eyes, which land smack dab on the first horizontal line. Start simply: dot, dot. Brows undulate above that. Now, drop down to the mouth. Abe’s lips fall just above the

bottom line.

At this point, the faces on everyone’s papers — as well as the image that Hutton projects on the wall — bear no resemblance to Abe.

The magic happens when Hutton instructs his pupils to add high cheek bones — “question marks,” he calls them — and the sidelines of a lean face.

Suddenly, six Abes emerge.

And so do astonished smiles on the faces of our of budding artists.

They can draw.

The mood loosens as Hutton guides them through Abe’s wrinkles.

Obviously, Abe lived preplastic-surgery era, several people observe. His elevens — worry lines between his eyebrows — also indicate that the late unpleasantness might have been even more unpleasant, cosmetically speaking, owing to the absence of Botox.

A few lines later, Abe’s face is fully fleshed out with his wavy hair, large ears and real-deal bow tie. No clips-ons for No. 16.

He looks fit for a play-money penny in each of the students’ drawings.

“Everybody does it a little bit differently,” says Hutton.

Except for Margo and Archie’s Abes. They’re essentially twins. What is it they say about married couples? After a while, their drawings of Abe Lincoln start to look alike?

Chitchat flows between our newborn Picassos as Hutton brings up the second subject of the day:

Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, the wife and later widow of John F. Kennedy. She also founded the White House Historical Association.

There’s another piece of trivia worth preserving.

In sharp contrast to Lincoln, Jackie was a style maker, setting fashion standards with her bouffant hairdo, flip curls and pearl chokers.

Hutton flashes his example on the wall and instructs his students to start again with the nose.

“She has a broad nose, but not as broad as Abraham’s,” he says. “Her eyes are going to be well below the eye-line. They’re fairly wide set, much more than ordinary.”

Jackie’s lips, he points out, are rather full, and her mouth turns up slightly at the corners.

“That’s what makes her look friendly,” he says.

By this time, our students are getting friendly with each other.

“Do you need an eraser?” Harsha asks Susan.

“You don’t have any left,” Susan teases back.

They speculate about whether Jackie’s lips were plumped by filler.

When Susan draws one of Jackie’s bob earrings next to her

jaw, Harsha joshes that it looks like a cyst: “She’s got to get that thing drained!”

Pam texts her husband to ask what he’s doing at work. She sends him pics of her sketches to flaunt her fun.

Moe is so impressed with his work that he considers adding it to the Greenlove menu.

Next to a decaf Lincoln latte perhaps? A caramel Jack-iat-O.?

These reluctant creatives — who initially wanted to leave their names off their papers for fear of being ridiculed — now want to show off their works.

“I have skills!” marvels Archie, looking at his handiwork.

Margo asks Hutton if he’s ever met an unteachable student.

Every ounce the teacher, Hutton refuses to say yes.

Learning is a process, he says, and the important thing is to stay at the process.

“I try to help them do it better,” he says.

In the end, the class gives Hutton thumbs-up on his teaching ability.

“I think your method is highly effective, the way you break it down,” says Harsha.

Class is dismissed and everyone leaves clutching sketches worthy of the White House — refrigerator. OH

STEP 4.

Well, Hello, Dolley!

Try your hand at drawing Greensboro’s own Dolley Madison

She was the OG of FLs.

Before anyone called the first ladies “first ladies,” Dolley Todd Madison, who spent her babyhood in what’s now Greensboro, shaped what people would later regard as the role of a first lady.

She was married to James Madison, who would become the country’s fourth POTUS, but before that, she handled the White House social life of their friend, Thomas Jefferson, whose wife had died before he assumed office as the third U.S. president.

Dolley, who famously threw small parties called “squeezes” — think what you will — was known as the D.C. hostess with the most-est, which is probably why the Hostess snack cake company once had a line of Dolly (with no “e”) Madison baked goods.

Raise your hand if you remember raspberry Zingers.

Anyhoo, Dolley was on-point, stylistically, and more than a little rebellious for her time.

She made turbans with tassels a thing.

She dipped snuff.

She also turned the White House into a veritable Baskin-Robbins on the Potomac, generously dishing out the frozen confection that Thomas Jefferson, a former ambassador to France, first introduced to the White House as a taste of continental culture.

Let’s face it: if Dolley were around today, the girl probably would be pierced and tatted, though maybe not for her official portrait.

Which brings us to an actual portrait of Ms. Madison. Because no one posted pics — or even took pics — back in Dolley’s day, paintings are the only way we have of knowing what she looked like.

If you want to try John Hutton’s method for yourself, pick up some colored pencils and use the grid we’ve provided to create your own version of DM. Feel free to take some creative liberties and send your best sketch to cassie@ohenrymag.com or drop your work in an in-feed Instagram post and tag us in the image: @o.henrymag.

The winner will receive a copy of John Hutton’s book and a place in a forthcoming issue. STEP 1. STEP 2. STEP 3.

The magical aspect — and real-life pressures — of live entertainment

You I’ll Show

By

Cynthia a dams • Portraits By Liz nemeth

Ma

Rainey’s Black Bottom, which opened at the Little Theatre of Winston-Salem February of last year, is where set designer Fatima

Njie discovered how much fun it was to be involved in a process she calls “world building.” She made a checklist and pinned it to a vision board, filling in the details to complete Ma Rainey’s world.

Sometimes Njie’s best ideas come at 2 a.m. — which is exactly what happened when, as an undergrad at UNCG, she worked on Dontrell, Who Kissed the Sea. “At 1:46 a.m., while at the computer,” she says. “Suddenly, I thought, ah, this.”

And sometimes inspiration finds her while she settles in with a coffee, observing, “being around people going about

their day.” Often, that’s at Camino Bakery in Winston-Salem, “where I can people-watch in peace.”

Odd moments inspire her, so Njie (pronounced “Jie” with a silent “N”) keeps a notepad handy.

In fact, such random moments influenced her work last spring on a bare-bones-budget, teen production of Twelfth Night for Creative Greensboro and Shared Radiance.

Under creative director Chappell Upper, she had creative carte blanche, which thrilled her.

The vision for her set designs occurred last spring during a fly-on-the-wall moment.

Sitting beside two women lost in conversation, “I was eavesdropping,” she admits. “One of them had just gotten engaged. I got to hear all her wedding plans. She was really happy. How she met him — it was all so great.” Njie, meantime, flashed to Twelfth Night, naturally, a play “in which everyone gets married.”

Inspired, she set to work designing heart-shaped walls (staged at the Hyers Theater). “A house over here, and a house over there,” Njie describes. “One of the houses looked like a broken heart. Another house was a full heart.”

Taking artistic license, she reimagined Shakespeare’s play through the pop-art lens of modern romantic comedy.

“Especially with Olivia, who has lost her brother and her heart is broken,” Njie explains. “I depicted her home/set as incomplete.” All of which, she confesses, grew from eavesdropping on strangers.

If you’re young, ambitious and making theater your life’s work, which Njie is, you must rise to the moment, no matter what — and quickly — using every single resource to create a convincing world.

Sometimes, armed with little more than fabric, a glue gun, some paint, wood, nails and her imagination, Njie needed to manifest the best possible set. Regardless of the budget or project, her vision had to support the plot and the characters. To Njie, it was just another challenge posed by working offstage instead of onstage. Having consciously chosen behindthe-scenes work over acting and modeling, Njie realized that working in tech and design was just as creatively appealing as acting but also practical. “It not only paid more, but it was in more demand.”

No auditions and less uncertainty, too.

Today, Njie is a working designer for sets and lighting at Creative Greensboro (which calls itself Greensboro’s “office for arts and culture”) and assistant technical director for lighting and sound at Temple Theatre in Sanford. She is a calm, collected and resourceful 20-something who dresses like the model she once was.

Wearing her hair down in loose curls with a black ensemble, including a long duster/coat and high-heeled boots, she easily looks the part of a posh character herself, ready to walk onstage.

In fact, she is a sometimes actor, but she is an aesthete who has proven her skills wielding an array of creative tools. While her work won’t be celebrated at curtain call, Njie invests weeks before opening night working with props and the various tools of stagecraft and artifice that conspire to make a production believable.

For Twelfth Night, she transformed a sad-looking chaise. “I made a chair to go with it . . . it wasn’t that good,” she insists. But it worked and was used in later productions.

These are early days for her budding career, but Njie is one to watch, according to Sherri Raeford, head of performing arts company Shared Radiance, who has worked with Njie on at least five productions.

“She’s one of the most versatile theater artists you could meet,” praises Raeford. “I’ve worked with her as an actor, a hair designer, a stylist — in so many capacities — and she always does quality work.”

While a teen in Durham, Njie first tried on the nickname “Jewels,” a name she ditched by the time she entered college, adopting Fatima, a version of her given name Fatou (a popular West African name derived from Fatimah).

For good measure, Njie exchanged her middle name, “Secka,” for “Venus.”

Njie is unashamedly ambitious for her future, having earned a degree in media studies and theater from UNCG in 2022.

Raeford mentions Njie’s 2024 nomination for a BroadwayWorld Charlotte Award for set design. As for which production, Njie had to think, given she easily creates six or seven in a single year.

“It was for Then There Were None, the Agatha Christie work.”

But now, Njie still thinks her best work so far was seen in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, a 2025 production of the Little Theatre of Winston-Salem directed by Tomeka Allen.

“I think that was my best work since Dontrell, Who Kissed the Sea.”

Each set differs vastly. Her work on Romeo and Juliet at the Stephen D. Hyers Theatre in the Greensboro Cultural Center required sets to be minimal, heavily relying upon Njie’s lighting skills.

“With Ma Rainey, there was a much bigger space.” Her designs reflected that.

A fondness for painting and skills in photography and video editing add to her versatility. After all, she’d always possessed

the creativity required for that work. “I liked painting, and had been painting since I was 2 years old.”

Before she was born, Njie’s family immigrated from The Gambia, a place where her mother’s own ambitions were tamped down and she became a stay-at-home mom. Born near Atlanta in Fulton County, Ga., her family moved to North Carolina, living first in Farmville and then Wilson. By sixth grade, Njie was completely taken with the world of drama.

Her mother wanted her “to be successful, because . . . she did have dreams and goals, but never went after them.” But Njie had defined goals which her mother nurtured, moving so that her daughter could attend better schools, ultimately to Durham. “Durham has a big theater, an arts community. A lot bigger than Wilson would have had.”

“Man, I really liked being on stage and making people laugh and smile — and, you know, making an impact. Live entertainment has some sort of magical aspect to me.”

By high school she began modeling, already imagining an acting career.

She found work at the Durham Performance Arts Center and a second job at a diner nearby but was laid off from both during the pandemic. “I loved that job [at the diner], too,” she recalls wistfully.

“I didn’t love modeling,” she says flatly. She was appalled by the “ridiculous standards to keep up with and how dangerous it can be.”

Nowadays she might miss a meal or two during a theatrical deadline — but not to meet an agent’s demands to be skinnier, Njie stresses.

Njie moved from the Triangle to study theater at UNCG.

“Nobody knew what was going to happen to live entertainment,” she says. She chose to concentrate her energies upon the technical aspects of drama and media studies.

It was a practical decision that allowed her to use her various talents.

At UNCG, freelance designer Tab May became Njie’s mentor after seeing her work in September 2022 for Dontrell, Who Kissed the Sea. “He saw the set and said, ‘Wow, this is gorgeous!’” Njie beams. She felt pride in what she had done, posting on Facebook, “The curtain closes on Dontrell, Who Kissed the Sea. I can say with confidence this was the best set design I’ve ever done, because it’s the first.”

“I didn’t eat for 26 hours trying to finish everything on time. I worked hard,” she says, putting every skill she had into bringing the story to life.

Later, May supported Njie’s interest in filling his old job at Creative Greensboro when he left to work in technical design in Winston-Salem, introducing her to Todd Fisher, performing arts coordinator at Creative Greensboro.

“I never had an interview,” recalls Njie. “I sent Tab my cover letter. A week later, I learned I was welcomed to the team.” May’s endorsement, it turns out, was enough.

The role at Creative Greensboro became Njie’s first “official” job in set designing.

Young enough to understand the difficulty in getting a

professional footing, Njie keeps close to other young theater hopefuls. She volunteers as a lead practitioner on workshops for teens interested in the arts, a joint project of Shared Radiance, which adapts and stages Shakespearian dramas for youth productions, and Creative Greensboro

“Pop art is fun,” Njie says.

For many theater goers, the set itself becomes a leading character. She lights up at the idea. “That is a compliment!”

At Temple, where she enjoys working with technical director Austin Hendrick, she’s gearing up for a spring show. “My next design will be Bright Star . . . kind of close to my heart. It made me cry and I’m not a crier,” she says.

As always, Njie “will live and breathe that show until it is over. Theater is just like that.”

Each show teaches her something new, a trick, hack, or something they don’t tell you in school. Valuable information from “being in the real world, as they say.”

As for her dreams, funnily, “they change a lot.” When “young-young,” Njie wanted to join a touring company. Or

Saturday Night Live, but she decided she wasn’t funny enough.

“But now, I think I’m in the place where I have my support system. There’s something for me here,” she says happily. “Companies and people I like working with.”

And she has added a new dream, “a grand dream of restoring Creative Greensboro to its former glory . . . pre-COVID.” Not single-handedly, she adds, but she wants to play a supportive part in a huge comeback.

Meanwhile, Bright Star, written by Steve Martin and Edie Brickell, will open at the Temple in April.

“The story is about family — and that is a subject that is close to my heart — set in two time periods. A woman having a child out of wedlock is looked down upon,” Njie continues. As with her other productions, Njie’s honing her craft. Her goal with this one — and with every subsequent show? “I want to not just be good, but be the best.”

“I’ll show you, which is kind of how I approach it,” Njie says, rising up from her chair with a former model’s poise.

Who would doubt her? OH

After many moves, the Lacenskis return to where their story began

By Cassie Busta Mante

Photogra Phs By Liz neMeth

When Jordan and Evan Lacenski were looking for a more family-friendly home after their son’s birth in 2020, they saw a sleek, black, midcentury Modern beauty in Hamilton Lakes. But, says Jordan, “My husband and I had never paid anything like that for a house and we were like, ‘That’s insane!’” Then, a Zillow listing caught Jordan’s eye: an abandoned house with an overgrown yard in New Irving Park. A vision of what could be hit her. With her knack for design — and a great general contractor — a cleanlined gem, just like the one that had been beyond reach, materialized.

Today, the Lacenski home, built in 1985, has a bold, black, white and wood exterior that lends to a Modern vibe. What was once empty is now full of life: with Evan, Jordan, Everett, their 5-year-old son, and Austen, their almost 2-year-old daughter, plus the family dog, Bullet. Seeing the original Zillow listing, you understand what an ambitious dream Jordan had for the diamond in the rough. The listing images, as it turns out, are still online. “I hope they never take it down,” she says, because the photos remind her of just how far their home has come.

Thanks to both having parents with jobs that

relocated them, Jordan and Evan originally met as middle schoolers in Greensboro. When Jordan was entering the seventh grade in Cleveland, Ohio, her father took a job in the furniture industry that meant a big move to North Carolina. Not wanting to leave her friends behind, 12-year-old Jordan “went outside with my sleeping bag and my goldfish” and told her parents she was staying put. Naturally, Mom and Dad won that battle.

Evan, on the other hand, was used to moving. His father worked as a criminal investigator for the IRS, a job that required frequent relocation. In his nearly 40 years, Evan, a Green Beret veteran, has lived in 19 houses total. “I got to meet lots of new people,” he says, “but I wouldn’t want it for my kids.”

He was a quiet kid, Jordan recalls, but a part of her friend trio, which consisted of her, Evan and their friend, Ian, aka “Spanky.” She’d safely placed him in the friend zone until “he wrote me a

love poem,” she says, a poem that he still knows by heart. Yet, she wasn’t convinced — “and then he moved.”

Their paths diverged and wouldn’t physically cross again for several years. And yet, through the wonders of social media, they kept up with one another and remained Facebook friends. When Jordan was a student at Northwest Guilford High School, her father lost his job. While she’d had big dreams of attending college out of state — even as far as Hawaii — her dad encouraged her to apply to affordable in-state schools. She enrolled at N.C. State, where she began studying art and design. “I thought I was going to be an architect.” Until: “Math — maybe not.”

Tuition money ran dry after a few semesters and, while her father eventually found a new job, he moved out of state and her parents divorced. After taking a semester off, she enrolled at UNCG. “And I loooooved UNCG,” she says. She found the faculty especially approachable and empathetic, on top of being innovative. She recalls one particularly tough life moment when she — in tears — asked her professor for a project extension. “I am sobbing and then I am saying I am sorry,” Jordan recalls. “And she said, ‘Why would you ever apologize for being a human

being? Human beings cry.’ It was the first time anyone had ever said that to me.”

At UNCG, she pivoted to studying communications and graduated in 2008, right on time for the Great Recession. Since then, she notes, she’s also experienced a global pandemic while pregnant. “We’ve just lived through it all.”

Eventually, Jordan landed a job in her field. With craft beer coming heavily onto the scene, Caffey Distributing created a new position. As the the local beer distributor’s first craft brand manager at the age of 25, Jordan says, “The amount of business that I got to learn because I was sitting in the room with all these C-suite dudes was wild.” Financially secure, she got a dog, a beagle named Siler, and purchased her first home, a foreclosed condo that she and friends painted together while sipping wine. “I was so proud of it,” she says.

Meanwhile, after graduating from the University of Oklahoma on an ROTC scholarship, Evan was stationed in Germany with the U.S. Army. But he’d never forgotten about his middle school flame after all these years and distances. In fact, when she went through a breakup, “He sent me chocolate lava cake to cheer me up.” She recalls Skyping with him afterward while her mom, Sandi Reasoner, was off screen, whisper-yelling to her: “Are you kidding me? Tell him thank you. He is so cute!”

As luck would have it, Evan ended up taking the Special Forces Qualification course at Fort Bragg and, while there, offered — several times — to take Jordan to dinner. A former relationship with someone in the military made her apprehensive about accepting. Plus, she says, “Army spouses have to make a ton of sacrifices, often at the expense of their own careers and ambitions.” After repeatedly turning him down, she eventually

agreed, “and that was that.” A year after that first date in 2012, they were married.

Soon after, Evan found himself stationed at Eglin Air Force Base, and the couple hauled their belongings and their two dogs, Cider and Lucy, a great dane, to the sunny, seaside town of Destin, where, Jordan quips, it’s “spring break all the time.” They bought a house, and, as if two dogs were not enough, Jordan came home one day to find Evan on the phone with people at Animal Planet. Soon, Cheech, a rescue he’d seen on Pit Bulls & Parolees, joined their canine brood and the family subsequently appeared on a 2014 episode featuring his homecoming (a real tearjerker — grab the tissues if you watch!). “He had a human soul,” says Jordan wistfully. A wall in their bathroom serves as a memorial to those three dogs, filled with their pictures.

After a year in Destin, Jordan landed a job as the director of marketing and communications for Destin Charity Wine Auction Foundation. While Evan was deployed much of the time they spent in Florida, Jordan launched a side hustle, SheWolf Collaborative — a “non-agency agency” for women in the mar-

keting industry to come together and work collaboratively, no matter where in the country they lived.

Finally, after eight years of service, Evan could take a desk job or transition out. His last deployment to Afghanistan had been tough and he’d lost a teammate, Andy. “Everett’s middle name is Andrew after Andy,” says Jordan. “They were a really tight-knit squad, so I think that changed his perspective and he opted to get out.”

Evan enrolled in the Army’s program that provides counseling, employment and workshops to transition to civilian life, but pivoted when, on family vacation in Montana, he noticed Svallin, an organization that trains protection dogs. He knew of a veteran who trained dogs for them and the idea appealed to him.

Once again, the Lacenskis moved across the country to Bozeman, Mont. There, says Jordan, SheWolf blew up. The area itself is entrepreneurial and the women who live there thrive on collaboration, “like sunshine for everybody.”

Evan’s dog ranch job, however, did not pan out as planned. “He basically was supposed to manage a ranch in Montana and one in South Africa, where dogs were trained to counter poach,”

says Jordan. “And that never happened, so half of the salary that we expected him to get never happened.” Back to transitional training he went, where he learned to work in medical device sales. When he was ready to start applying for jobs, one opened up in Greensboro, of all places, and, in 2017, the couple found themselves back where they began.

They moved into a brick Tudor on Walker Avenue, but, once Everett was born, knew a change needed to happen. “He was downstairs, we were upstairs,” says Jordan.

With the help of Matthew MacLanders (“our realtor since I bought that first condo”), they visited what would become their home. Jordan and Matt were going a mile a minute, talking excitedly about what could be done to the house. “And my husband is standing there holding Everett,” quips Jordan, “like, ‘What are you talking about?’”

Jordan brought over her pal, Jodee Rupell, a “total badass” who had loads of remodeling experience. Jodee suggested not just renovating the kitchen, but moving it entirely. Jodee also pushed up her sleeves and got to work: “She was out here one day with her husband’s tractor and hedge clippers at 7 a.m.”

With a design of her own making in place, Jordan reached out to several general contractors for quotes. “And we ended up with the company that actually renovated the Hamilton Lakes house, Donny Root, Building Roots.” With a renovation loan secured,

the bank allowed just six months for work to be completed, so Donny, his brother and his nephew worked on the house almost every day and became like family to the Lacenskis.

Jordan sourced materials herself for much of the renovation: tile from Floor & Decor, cabinets from Kitchen Cabinet Worx, light fixtures from “a smorgasbord of Wayfair and all that.”

Entering through the original double front doors, which the couple updated with paint, one of the first things you see is a disco ball hanging in between the entry and kitchen, which are now part of an open-concept central space. The family hung it for New Year’s, but loved it so much that it became a fixture. “At 1 or 1:30 p.m., it does its thing,” says Jordan.

“Only in the winter,” adds Evan, because of the sun’s placement.

Previously, the entry housed a dated grandfather clock where you’d expect to find a secret passage leading upstairs — just like the one in the 1980s sitcom Webster. Now, the wall is open and freshly updated with visible stair railings that have been given a modern look inspired by an image Jordan spied on Pinterest. Donny ran with it, Jordan says. “They just figured it out and they built that.”

The bright, modern kitchen now faces the backyard, where they extended the deck — the “brilliant idea” of Jordan’s mom, who let the family and their dogs crash with her during renovations. (Sandi, as it turns out, loves to spend time on that very deck, sitting by the pool in the summertime.) Light, warm wood cabinets pair with cool, gray, chevron backsplash tiles and white

quartz countertops with gray veining. An island with a waterfall countertop offers seating for casual family meals.

Where the kitchen previously sat now serves as a playroom for the kids, complete with three Nugget play couches — “You can’t have enough Nuggets,” says Jordan. The family uses them to build forts, even opting to create “dinner forts,” where they sometimes eat meals.

Just off the playroom is the very thing that sealed the deal. “What sold me was all these windows,” she muses, gesturing to the home office’s wall of tall windows. These days, both she and Evan each work at home frequently, so they have their own desk spaces, with a small desk for Everett in-between the two. Jordan has taken on a new role as director of marketing for ExecBrand Authority, but she’s also pivoted SheWolf away from being a marketing collaborative, turning it into an inclusive space for women from all walks of life. Because she herself was seeking community, she decided to create a platform for it, offering outings, such as kayaking, watercolor lessons and Mahjong, plus opportunities to give back. “At the end of the day, every time I do something outside in community or adven-

turous in community or creative in community, I always leave happy at the end of it,” she says.

On another wall in the office, Jordan had hoped for builtins, but when the exterior landscaping cost more than she’d expected, some corners were cut. Instead, Jordan painted a series of three freestanding cabinets in a dark-green Annie Sloan chalk paint. Evan’s drum set and 3D printer also take up real estate. Evan, says Jordan, has multiple hobbies. His latest? Ice hockey.

On the opposite end of the main floor, the living room features a large, cushy sectional stuffed with pillows, perfect for cozying up and lounging. A soft, fuzzy, blanket on the sofa welcomes Bullet, the 115-pound gentle giant who serves as door greeter and crumb picker-upper. An array of art climbs the wall behind the couch, a collection of the family’s treasured pieces, including a watercolor painting of Evan and Everett by local artist Alisha Wielfaert. “Art is the way to my heart,” says Jordan.

Before, the room was still in its 1980s heyday, complete with a bar. “Cabinets came out to right here and ran the whole length to that window and in the corner there was a sink,” says Evan. “It was really weird.”

“Because people were partying!” quips Jordan. “At their houses!”

Just off the living room, the couple added a screened-in porch,

where Evan’s cold plunge and sauna sit. Once that was constructed, less natural light flowed into the living room, so they brightened it up by painting the wood-paneled ceiling white.

Heading upstairs, another gallery wall, now visible from the home’s entry, adorns the wall. This one features family photos taken throughout the years, most by Winston-Salem photographer Jo Lindsay. “We just added photos of Austen,” says Jordan. “She’s officially part of the fam,” she adds with a laugh, noting that life with two young kids keeps one too busy to keep up with actually printing, framing and hanging said photos.

At the top of the landing, Jordan has assembled a smattering of Tin Nichos, whimsical, colorful 3D shadowboxes crafted by local maker Jayme White, to splash color onto the white wall. Jordan’s collection includes a “cereal killer” and a woman who inspires her, Lucille Ball.

While downstairs features a guest room, the family’s bedrooms are all upstairs. “And where we used to be on different floors, now we are all real close,” says Jordan.

Everett and Austen each have a playful mural in their bedrooms. Everett’s is a mountain scene in rich earth tones, cool gray-greens and tans that Jordan painted herself. And his dresser and nightstands are hand-me-downs from Dad, given a fresh look with chalk paint. “We just repurpose what we can, you know,” says Jordan.

Austen’s wall was a collaborative effort between Jordan and local artist Kara Lewis, a former art teacher at Greensboro Day School. Using “an old-school projector,” Kara painted the black

flower outlines and Jordan added splashes of color. Jordan selected flowers that hold special meaning, including hydrangea for abundance, heartfelt emotion and gratitude, and ranunculus for charm, admiration and joy, among others.

Of course, Everett saw his mom and her pal writing on the wall and wondered if he could join in the fun. So, on the space that hides behind his bedroom door when it’s open, Jordan wrote “Everett’s Wall” at the top and let him go to town on it. Now, “Everett is very proud of his room.”

In the primary bedroom, Jordan got a wild hair to paint the wall behind their bed. When Evan saw it finished, she recalls, “Evan said, ‘You just said you want to paint that 10 hours ago!’” In her own words, Jordan often takes an idea and runs with it from “zero to 100.” Now, the wall anchors the space in a warm rust, a mixture of two colors “because one was too red brick and one was too Arizona.”

On the opposite wall, next to a dresser Jordan scored at Red Collection, an array of hats surrounds an arched mirror, some from their time in Montana. “This one,” she says, “this is my pride and joy.” Even though there’s a Stetson in her collection, the hat she’s holding was crafted by the Montana Territory Hat company. Underneath its rim, it’s been branded with the word “howl,” a nod to SheWolf.

The en suite bathroom was completely renovated. A new, modern tub was installed and long, wooden shelves built by local woodworker Amanda Marley float above it on the wall. But Jordan’s favorite added feature? A skylight just above the shower.

“No one can see you except for the birds,” she says.

What was once an empty, dated house is now an inviting home filled with art and life, perfect for a modern family. In fact, Evan says, when they first bought it, they had it appraised. Two years later, they had it appraised again. Little did they know, they’d end up with the same appraiser. He called Evan afterwards to ask who had designed it so he could recommend them. “And I was like, ‘My wife did it,’” says Evan. “And he said, ‘That is literally one of the best renovations I have ever seen of an original home. Tell her that she should pursue a career in this.’”

Jordan lets out a squawk of a laugh. While reinventing herself as someone who updates and redesigns houses may not be in the cards, there’s no doubt that she’s made their New Irving Park fixer upper — and Greensboro — into a home she never wants to leave.

“We’ve seen a lot of the country, and we’re here, I think, longterm,” says Evan. Plus, every time he returns from travel, he finds himself saying, “I am happy to be back home.” OH

ALMANAC

February

By ashLey WaL she

February leans in close, icy breath tingling the nape of your neck, and asks you to pick a door.

“A what?” you blurt, turning toward the raspy voice. No one. But that’s when you see it. A door straight out of a fantasy novel.

Approaching slowly, you take in the intricate details and lifelike carvings: apple blossoms and honeybees; pregnant doe and spring ephemerals; fiddleheads and fox kits.

Wood as frozen as the earth below, your fingers ache as they trace the grooves and ridges, then fumble across a secret panel. Beneath it? A round peep window with an unobstructed view to spring.

Early Signs of Spring

Bone-cold and weary, you press your face against the cold glass and glimpse a drift of wild violets, trees gleaming with sunlit leaves, a bouquet of ruby-throated hummingbirds.

“Yes, please,” you nearly sing, reaching for the frigid brass knob. Your heart sinks when you find that it’s locked.

Rapping the knocker for what feels like ages, desire becomes agony.

You wait, desperate for the door to open — desperate to bypass the bitter cold and step into the warm embrace of spring.

That’s when you remember the voice.

Pick a door.

Of course, there’s another. You spin on your heel and set out to find it.

As you walk, you notice how the frost resembles glittering stardust; the moon, a silver smile in the crystalline sky. How naked trees stand in praise and wonder of what pulses, unseen.

This is the doorway, you realize, feeling your breath deepen, your heart open, your jaw and belly soften.

There is peace here, at this threshold of endings and beginnings, where life moves slowly, where early crocuses burst through the wintry soil. Peace and wonder. But only if you choose it.

Love and birdsong are in the air. On mild days, mourning cloaks trail yellow-bellied sapsuckers, sipping maple, birch and apple sap from tidy rows of wells. No vintage perfume smells as delicate and sweet as the trailing arbutus blooming in our sandy woodlands. And — oh, dear — a striped skunk rejects an unwanted suitor. Soon, toads will begin calling. Gray squirrels will bear their spring litters. Bluebirds will craft their cup-shaped nests. Spring makes her slow and subtle entrance, even when we can’t yet see it.

In February, let nature be your guide and find solace in its beauty and rhythm.

— John Muir

Year of the Horse

The Year of the Fire Horse (aka, the Red Horse Year) begins on Tuesday, Feb. 17. According to the Chinese Zodiac, 2026 will be a spirited year of passion, dynamism and boundless freedom.

In other words: It won’t be a year for the sidelines.

Souls born this year are said to be bold, adventurous leaders, quick-witted and headstrong, magnetic and rebellious. Parents of Fire Horse children: Let it be known that they can’t be tamed. OH

Weddings

Blowouts & Bubbles | Blush & Grace Events | Born to DJ | Carolyn Todd’s | Cass Jewelers

The Colonnade at Revolution Mill | Elm & Bain | Fred Astaire Dance Studio | If It’s Paper

Jewelry Authority | K2 Productions | Knot Your Average Events | McCalls Reynolda Village

Merle Norman | Schiffman’s | Shores Dry Cleaning | Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities

30 years of service

Estate Jewelry

Fine Watches

Engagement

Watch Repair

Jewelry Repair

Bullion & Coin

Custom Design

Appraisals

Our estate jewelry is evaluated by our GIA Graduate Gemologists, Craig & Abby, two highly trained professionals with over 45 years of combined expertise.

15 years of service

Using advanced tools and a methodical, detail-driven approach, they accurately identify and grade colored gemstones and diamonds — empowering you to buy and sell with confidence.

Graduate Gemologist (GIA) Gemological Institute of America,1983

Graduate Gemologist (GIA) Gemological Institute of America London Campus, 2017

Brought

February 2026

Before attending any event, it’s best to check times, costs, status and location. Although we conscientiously use the most accurate and up-to-date information, the world is subject to change and errors occur!

FEBRUARY EVENTS

01–28

MAKING [ART] HISTORY: ACTS, ACTIONS AND REENACTMENTS. This exhibit explores how various individual, collective and artist-channeled methods of making art have been interwoven with multiple cultural and national histories. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/calendar.

01–14

WINTER SHOW. GreenHill Center for NC Art’s annual show features a vast array of North Carolina artists’ works. Free. Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc.org/ wintershow-2025.

01

PIEDMONT WINTERFEST. Noon–8 p.m. Take your last chance this season to glide, twirl or stumble your way across the ice rink with friends and family. Tickets: $15. LeBauer Park, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: piedmontwinterfest.com.

SHORT TALES FOR CHILDREN. 2–3:30 p.m. This annual collaboration with UNCG assembles future theater educators and young actors to rehearse and perform short plays. Free, donations appreciated. Van Dyke Performance Space at the Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc. gov/departments/creative-greensboro.

SHUCKED. 1 & 6:30 p.m. Corny as it may be, you ’ll be all ears — and eyes — for the Tony Award-winning musical comedy The Wall

Family Game Night

February

27

Street Journal calls “flat out hilarious!” Tickets: $41+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH. 10:30 a.m. & 2:30 p.m. The Greatest Show on Earth is back with a high-energy, musicdriven experience featuring bold circus performances, unforgettable characters and a nonstop party vibe. Tickets: $23+. Piedmont Hall, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events. 02–23

CREATIVE STRINGS WORKSHOP. 6:30–7:30 p.m. String students expand their expressive and creative skills through guided improvisation games and collaborative activities. Registration: $69. The Music Academy of North Carolina, 1327 Beaman Place, Suite 100 Greensboro. Info: musicacademy.org.

03–28

INTRO TO VIOLIN. 3:45–5:30 p.m. Young children ages 4-8 can embark on their music journey and have fun together while learning the basics of musicianship at this workshop

that meets Tuesdays through March 24. Registration: $104. The Music Academy of North Carolina. 1327 Beaman Place, Suite 100., Greensboro. Info: musicacademy.org.

03

A CONVERSATION WITH KAMALA HARRIS. 7 p.m. Join former Vice President Kamala Harris as she shares her experiences that have shaped her personal philosophy and reveals insights inspired by her book, 107 Days. $79.65+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

05

SHANE SMITH AND THE SAINTS. 8 p.m. Catch this genre-blending band perform songs from their newest album, Norther. Tickets: $36.50+. Piedmont Hall, 2411 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.

06–10

IDOMENEO. 7:30 p.m., Friday and Tuesday; 2 p.m., Sunday. Accompanied by Mozart’s dramatic music, UNCSA’s winter opera production tells the tale of a noble

king, Idomeneo, and his pact with the challenging god Neptune. Tickets: $30. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/events.

06

FIRST FRIDAY. 6–9 p.m. Head downtown for a night of live music and happenings stretching all the way from LeBauer Park and the Greensboro Cultural Center to the South End. Free. Downtown Greensboro. Info: downtowngreensboro.org/first-friday.

NICE’N’WEISS. 8:30 p.m. National touring comedian Lance Weiss shows off his wits with a hilarious performance. Tickets: $10.30+. The Idiot Box, 503 N. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: idiotboxers.com.

MIMI FOX. 7:30 p.m. Internationally renowned jazz guitarist Mimi Fox plays alongside Steve Haines on bass and Sarah Gooch on drums. Pay what you can. Van Dyke Performance Space, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: musicforagreatspace.org/season.

07

WALKING TOUR. 9–12 p.m. Explore the Downtown Greenway while experiencing the

4-mile loop’s public art, local history and more landmarks. Free. LoFi Park, 500 N. Eugene St., Greensboro. Info: ncgreenweb.myvscloud.com.

07, 14, 21 & 28

THE LINCOLN SISTERS OF DECKAWOO DRIVE. 10 a.m. & 2 p.m. This charming spinoff from the Mercy Watson series embraces the unknown with a heartfelt family adventure. Tickets: $5.49+. Pam and David Sprinkle Theatre, 402 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/events.

08

JAZZ WORKSHOP. 2–3:30 p.m. Learn the simple steps to make your own jazz licks. Free. Music Academy of North Carolina Performance Hall, 100 McIver St., Greensboro. Info: musicacademy.org.

10, 17 & 19

BLACK LOVE, BLACK ROMANCE SERIES. 7 p.m. Celebrate Black cinema with three iconic films shown throughout the month: Love Jones, Think Like a Man and Stormy Weather. Tickets: $8. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

10

FRESH + FOODIE SERIES. 6–7 p.m. Mash, mix and munch while learning how to craft the perfect guacamole. Then take your tasty creation home to enjoy. Free; registration recommended. Deep Roots Market, 600 N. Eugene St., Greensboro. Info: ncgreenweb.myvscloud.com.

11

THE ROOM 20TH ANNIVERSARY. 7 p.m. In this cult classic, Tommy Wiseau stars as Johnny, a successful banker who seems to have it all when his life begins to unravel after discovering a shocking betrayal; after this, the 20th anniversary screening, co-star Greg Sestero will share behind-the-scenes stories and answer audience questions. Tickets: $20+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

12

ELECTRIC LIGHT ORCHESTRA EXPERIENCE. 7:30 p.m. Evil Woman — the multimedia, 12-piece band composed of violins, cellos, violas and electric guitars — celebrates the music of Jeff Lynn’s ELO. Tickets: $47+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St.,

Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events. 13 & 14

SEAN PATTON. 8:30–10:30 p.m. Actor and comedian Sean Patton will have you laughing all Valentine’s Day weekend. Tickets: $35.53+. The Idiot Box, 503 N. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: idiotboxers.com.

14

WINTER JAM. 6 p.m. Christian music’s biggest tour hits the stage with Chris Tomlin, Emerson Day and many more artists. Tickets: $15 donation collected at door. First Horizon Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.

2 GUYS NAMED CHRIS. 7 p.m. At the 2 Guys Named Chris Comedy All Star Show, you ’re in for a night of unfiltered and uncut comedy. Tickets: $25+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

FIDDLIN’ FRED. 11 a.m.–noon. Fred Lail, who has been fiddling around for over 30 years, teaches fiddle to string students. Free. Music Academy of North Carolina Performance Hall, 100 McIver St., Greensboro. Info: musicacademy.org.

TEA TIME. 11 a.m.–4 p.m. Learn about the importance of tea to the American colonies and discover why it was boycotted during the Revolution; plus, see how to set a proper tea service. Free. Historical Park at High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

15

MULTI-CULTURAL DANCE FESTIVAL . 2–4 p.m. Hope Fest 4 Hunger, an annual multicultural dance festival benefiting A Simple Gesture and Greensboro Urban Ministry in Guilford County, celebrates worldwide movement. Free, donations encouraged. Carolina Theatre, 310 S Greene St., Greensboro. Info: hopefest4hunger.org.

PUPPY PAL DAY. 2–4 p.m. Love is in the air — and on the leash! Take a walk with your furry Valentine and enjoy some paws-itively perfect quality time together. Free. Freedom Cornerstone. 750 Plott St., Greensboro. Info: ncgreenweb.myvscloud.com.

17

AN INTIMATE EVENING. 7:30 p.m. David Foster and Katherine McPhee perform a show full of ballads from Whitney Houston, Celine Dion, Chicago and more hits. Tickets: $74.20.

Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

18

SOLSTICE: A WINTER CIRCUS EXPERIENCE. 7 p.m. Step into a dreamscape where shadows dance, snow drifts fall and acrobats blur the line between the everyday and the extraordinary. Tickets: $13.88+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events. 19

UNCG JAZZ ENSEMBLES I & II. 7:30 p.m. In what would have been his centennial birthday year, UNCG celebrates Miles Davis beginning with Miles Ahead: Acoustic Miles. Jazz Ensembles I and II will perform his most compelling acoustic music from 1947–67. Tickets: $7+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre. com/events.

ARTIST TALK. 5:30–7:30 p.m. Saya Woolfalk discusses her work, which “ uses science-fiction and fantasy to reimagine the world in multiple dimensions.” Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/ exhibitions/current-exhibitions.

MARK TWAIN TONIGHT. 7:30 p.m. Actor and 2025 Theater Hall of Fame inductee Richard Thomas brings to life the legendary one-man show, written and originally performed by Hal Holbrook. Tickets: $50.40+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

20

SAL VULCANO. 7 p.m. Impractical Jokers and The Misery Index star Sal Vulcano performs his debut solo comedy show. Tickets: $43+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

20–22

FRANKENSTEIN. Times vary. Based on the novel by Mary Shelley and adapted by Nick Dear, this classic tale of horror, hatred and inescapable fate comes to life — just like its monster — on stage. Tickets: $5.49+. UNCG Auditorium, 408 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/events.

21

CIRQUE FLIP FABRIQUE 7:30 p.m. In a show named Blizzard, acrobatics combine with snow as dancers glide across the stage

to create a magical performance. Tickets: $29.62+. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/events.

GREENWAY HISTORY SERIES. 2–3 p.m. Celebrate Black History Month with an engaging, family-friendly exploration of the contributions Black Patriots made during the pivotal Battle of Guilford Courthouse. Free. Meeting Place Park. 801 W. Smith St., Greensboro. Info: ncgreenweb.myvscloud.com.

MONTFORD POINT MARINES OF HIGH POINT. 2–4 p.m. Recognize, remember and honor the Montford Point Marines of High Point as part of Black History Month. Free. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

HIGH POINT HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 10–11:30 a.m. The High Point Historical Society and High Point Public Library come together to discuss the legacy of the Washington Street Branch of the High Point Public Library. Free. Community and Neighborhood Development Center. 201 4th St., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

24-28

HELL’S KITCHEN. Times vary. This coming-of-age musical by 16-time Grammy winner Alicia Keys debuts her newest music about growing up in New York. Tickets: $50.45+ Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

26

NEW EDITION: THE NEW EDITION WAY. 8 p.m. The Black Promoters Collective proudly presents a trio of entertainers as they perform their most influential contemporary acts: New Edition, Boyz II Men and Toni Braxton. Tickets: $97.45. First Horizon Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.

27

ANNIE WU. 7:30 p.m. Flutist Annie Wu presents her dessert-inspired show, Not Too Sweet. Tickets: $35. Marshall Muse Gallery, 314 N. Church St., Greensboro. Info: musicforagreatspace.org/season.

FAMILY GAME NIGHT. 5:30–7:30 p.m. Bring the whole family for a night of snacks, prizes and playful fun, including board games,

“I

Redhead

card games and even a scavenger hunt. Free. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

28

CALLIGRAPHY 101. 2–4 p.m. In this beautiful handwriting class, calligrapher Pat Levitin teaches the basics of the lowercase italic alphabet in pencil — the skeleton of each letterform. Free, all supplies will be provided. Meeting Place Park. 801 W. Smith St., Greensboro. Info: ncgreenweb.myvscloud.com.

WEEKLY HAPPENINGS

WEDNESDAYS

LIVE MUSIC & PAINTING. 6–9 p.m. Evan Olson and Jessica Mashburn of AM rOdeO play covers and original music while artist-in-residence Chip Holton paints. Free. Lucky 32. 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: lucky32.com.

FAMILY NIGHT. 5–7 p.m. Enjoy an artdriven evening with family and friends in the

studios. Free. ArtQuest at GreenHill Center for NC Art, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc.org/events.

THURSDAYS

JAZZ AT THE O.HENRY. 6–9 p.m. Sip vintage craft cocktails and snack on tapas while the O.Henry Trio performs with a different jazz vocalist each week. Free. O.Henry Hotel Social Lobby, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: ohenryhotel. com/o-henry-jazz.

THURSDAYS & SATURDAYS

KARAOKE & COCKTAILS. 8 p.m. until midnight, Thursdays; 9 p.m. until midnight, Saturdays. Courtney Chandler hosts a night of sipping and singing. Free. 19 & Timber Bar at Grandover Resort & Spa, 1000 Club Road, Greensboro. Info: grandoverresort.com.

FRIDAYS & SATURDAYS

LIVE MUSIC. 7–10 p.m. Enjoy drinks in the 1808 Lobby Bar while soaking up live music provided by local artists. Free. Grandover

Resort & Spa, 1000 Club Road, Greensboro. Info: grandoverresort.com.

SATURDAYS

BLACKSMITH DEMONSTRATION. 10–4:30 p.m. Watch the sparks and red-hot iron turn into farm implements as the past is recreated under the able hands of a costumed blacksmith. Free. Historical Park at High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

SATURDAYS & SUNDAYS

HISTORIC WALKING TOURS. 1 & 5 p.m. Take a guided walking tour through the history of downtown Greensboro at 1 p.m. or, if you’re into true crime, stroll through The Gate City’s darker side, covering 1953–1997, at 5 p.m. Tickets: $14. The Bodega, 313 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: trianglewalkingtours.com/book-online. OH

To submit an item for consideration, please email ohenrymagcalendar@gmail.com by the first of the month prior to the month of the event.

LADIES CLOTHING, GIFTS, BABY, JEWELRY, GIFTS FOR THE HOME, TABLEWARE, DELICIOUS FOOD

Jill Jones

Kristen Yntema

Sherri Thomas, Carletta Simmons

Carole Simms, Candace Cummings, Denny Kelly, Beth McKeeHuger, Pat Soenksen, Mae Douglas, Pamela Barrett, Terri Shelton

Desi Pratt

Olivia Smith, Abbie Phillips

GreenScene

Habitat Greensboro

Blueprints and Bubbly

The Yard at Revolution Mill

Thursday, September 18, 2025

Photographs by Sam McClanahan, Kevin Shoffner

Darianna McGee, Danny Brown

Sara Smith, Amy Meinecke

Youth Volunteers

Josie & Mary Kate Farley

Taji Vanhook, Aaron Weldon

Ashley Lauren, Erin Redden, Taylor Morgan, Kelly Sereghy

Nicole & Lamont Love-Davis

Jo Leimenstroll, Sherry & Tom Rogowski

Chad & Lauren Cook, Lauren & Jeff Warren Zoha & Shakir Ejaz

Domonicka Trowell

Joe & Amy Thompson

Tim & Maria Hanlin, Trudy Menzzentto, Laura Lomax & Phil Barbee

Gustavo Martinez & Karen Tejeda

Amy & Scott Neely

Stacy Cromartie

Frances & John B. Lee

GreenScene Greensboro History Museum

100th Anniversary Dinner O.Henry Hotel

Monday, November 10, 2025

Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Chad Roberts, Turkesshia Moore

Carol Ghiorsi Hart

Betty Cone, A. Robinson Hassell

Bernetiae Reed, Heather Slane, Eric Woodard, Chad Roberts, John Horan, Mike Cowhig, David Gwynn

Jeanne Tannenbaum, Barbara Morgenstern, Barbara Hall

Glenn Perkins, Eric Woodard

Meredith & David Groce, John Swaine, Will Harris

Dan Bailey, Brooks & Julie Copeland, Hoke Huss Stephanie & Otto Harris, Lea Williams

Brigitte Blanton, Margaret Benjamin, Laura Bailey

John & Anne Hurd, Ann & Henk Koppen

Kevin Von der Lippe, Theresa Byrd

Susanne Hall, Lisa Anderson, Laura Hochstein

Dr. Richard Kurin

GreenScene

Teach for America Piedmont

Triad One Day Event

Elm & Bain

Wednesday, November 19, 2025

Photographs by Becky VanderVeen

Cecelia Thompson, Brent Christensen, Joe Reike

Don Upton, Robyn Fehrman

Teach for America Teachers

Northwest High School Jazz Band

Terri Maultsby, Cecelia Thompson, Kalisha McLean, Afi Johnson-Paris, Nasha McCray, Judy Wicker, Myrna Carlock, Carly Cooke, Jill White, Susan Schwartz, Stephanie Clifford, Margaret Benjamin, Mindy Oakley, Elizabeth O’Quinn, Claire Veazey, Allie Hanson

Trey Davis, Jill White, Nasha McCray

Mike Yates, Robyn Fehrman, Marshall Matson

Mitchell Johnson, Jack Taylor

Leaundra Clay, Whitney Killian, Matt Killian, Jonathan Moore, Derrick Lee, Justin Ingram, Tyler Adams, Stephen Bell, Marcia Moye, Michael Sheffield, Cassidy Stafford, Robyn Ferhman

Mindy Oakley, Michelle Gethers, Mona Edwards

Food, Actually

If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around the table

By DaviD ClauDe Bailey

This is a love story. It began 60 years ago.

Our new Boy Scout executive, Wofford Malphrus, is explaining how we’ll have more guns, more bows and arrows, more everything at summer camp. As he’s leaving, he pulls a photo from his wallet and says, “This is my daughter and some of you will be going to school with her next year.”

I am stunned. She is without doubt the most beautiful woman on the planet. At the same moment, I realize I have zero chances of ever dating her. In fact, at age 15 — shy, one-eyed, gawky, a beatnik wanna-be — I’m yet to have my first date.

Fast-forward two years and my best friend, Spencer, tells me that Anne Malphrus has seen my ’45 Ford army surplus heap of a Jeep and wants to ride in it.

And she does. Double dating with my cousin, Bill, and Anne’s best friend, Mary, we picnic at my uncle’s farm. My mother packs leftover roast duck and blue cheese, while Bill’s mom sends deviled eggs and savory lemon bars. It’s love at first bite as two foodies feast away. In sprinkling rain on the way back to the car, our first kiss comes as we huddle under the picnic blanket.

We remain an item through Anne’s freshman year at UNCG, when we elope and get married under our Greek professor’s whispering pines. A year later, we take a sabbatical from school and hitchhike all over Europe, mostly in Spain and Greece where we can afford to stay in a hotel instead of a youth hostel. We discover heady gazpacho, goat cheese and succulent melon served with paper-thin slices of Iberian ham. Hello, rabo de toro (bull’s tail stew), calamari and bacalao (salt cod with tomato sauce).

Time passes and we’re still together — me, a reporter covering the earliest days of the Space Shuttle; Anne, an artist and food columnist. On our 13th anniversary, Anne tells me no more excuses, no more delays, it’s time to have a child.

We do, first Sarah and then Alice. And so begins the most magical years of our lives, reliving youth through our children’s eyes, building villages out of twigs and rocks for Terabithians, reading them the same fairy tales our mothers read us. Our girls learn to ride bikes, swim, make and keep friends, drive cars. We blink and they’re off to college.

A few years later, Sarah announces she’s moving to Spain. She does and loves it. Over the next 20 years, she manages to acquire a husband, a horse and an apartment in Europe’s equivalent to Myrtle Beach, Mallorca. Gaining Spanish residency, she works in a digital job we barely understand. A cordial divorce follows.

She moves to Málaga and falls for Toni Mayo, a landscape designer, serial entrepreneur and Airbnb owner. After spending Christmas with his family in La Higuera, way up in the mountains, she becomes part of a loving Spanish family, who adopt her without reservation.

Finally, at age 43, Sarah figures out how to have children and presents us with a perfect grandchild, Jeva.

It’s Christmas Eve. As a fire crackles in the hearth, Toni’s mother’s house fills with Jeva’s aunts, uncles, her great grandmother and the world’s dumbest Labrador. Anne and I are on the floor with Jeva, who is now, surprise, a bossy 2-year-old. She is sitting very contentedly in my lap as I read to her, for the 40th time this season, the adventures of Santa Bear. Soon, we sit down to shrimp croquettes, gazpachuelo (a rich fish soup creamy with mayonnaise), antequerano (cod with oranges) and an array of other traditional holiday dishes, washed down with sparkling Spanish cava. Standing up, I propose a toast to love and to family, a family that has adopted me and my loved ones — heart, soul and stomach. OH

O.Henry’s contributing editor David Claude Bailey suggests that you visit Toni Mayo’s Airbnb @casalopinto and the nearby geologically tortured Torcal mountains, the 3,000 B.C.E. dolmens near Antequera and Casabermeja’s goat museum, where you can learn how to become a shepherd.

MADISON COLLECTION