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November 2025
MAGAZINE
volume 15, No. 11
“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
Harry Blair, Anne Blythe, Susan Campbell, Brian Clarey, Jasmine Comer, Joi Floyd, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Tom Maxwell, Gerry O’Neill, Liza Roberts, Stephen E. Smith, Zora Stellanova, Ashley Walshe, Amberly Glitz Weber
ADVERTISING SALES
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336.210.6921 • lisa@ohenrymag.com
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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.
nov 13-15
fri 9-5 sat 9-5 sun 10-5
From social to print media
by Cassie bustama Nte
AsI sit at my dining room table waiting for my Zoom call to begin, I wonder whether it was such a good idea to have planted myself in front of the giant, whimsical sun I painted on the wall behind me. It’s the fall of 2020 and I am interviewing for a job. It’s a local position, but with COVID lingering in the air, most interviews are being conducted online. Ashe Walshe, then editor of O.Henry magazine, pops up on my screen. Even though I can only see the digital manifestation of her, it’s enough to pick up on her earthy, bohemian vibes.
“Why do you want this job?” she asks me, her brown eyes genuinely curious. The role in question is that of digital content creator. If I land it, I’ll be writing the O.Hey Greensboro email newsletter and handling social media.
“Well, I really feel like the universe pointed me here,” I blurt out without thinking, a usual habit of mine. Immediately, my mind starts whirling: Why did I say that? There’s no way they’re hiring you now! You sound insane!
But when I see Ashe’s face on my screen, something about the tilt of her head, the slight upturn of the corner of her mouth and
the bob of her chin-length, dark curls tells me that she’s absolutely tickled by my response.
A few days later, I’m trudging up a big hill in our neighborhood, panting and pushing my 2-year-old, Wilder, in a stroller, when my phone rings.
“Is now a good time?” Ashe asks, hearing my breathiness across the line.
As a mom to a toddler, is there ever really a “good time” for anything? “Yes!” I say with false confidence.
And just like that, a week later in mid-November, I mask up and head to the O.Henry magazine office to meet my new boss and start training, diving headfirst into the weeks of O.Hey’s gift guide, already mapped out. Though I’m now juggling a busier schedule, working when Wilder is at the Childhood Enrichment Center a few mornings a week, something sparks in me. I find complete and utter joy in learning to write in the pun-filled, playful O.Hey voice.
Months into the job, once I’ve gotten to know Ashe better — and I’ve discovered that our spirituality is aligned — I divulge the truth behind my answer that day on Zoom, about how the universe pointed my arrow toward O.Henry.
I had been writing a home decor and DIY blog for over 10 years, eventually creating social media content in order to stay relevant and to drive website traffic. But I’d grown tired of it — the delight it once brought me was gone. Instagram had lost its appeal as a place to connect and instead became a place to keep up. Ready for something new — but what, I did not know — I hired a coach,
Chandra Kennett, who I’d actually “met” through Instagram. She asked me what it was that I really wanted to do, deep down.
“Well, I actually love writing Instagram captions, silly poems and personal essays. And I know that I want to make genuine connections with my local Greensboro community,” I answered. “But I don’t even know what I could possibly do with that.”
“You wait,” Chandra responded. She’d done my human design, a holistic, self-knowledge practice that is, admittedly, very woo-woo. “You’re a manifesting generator and your strategy is to respond, so for now, you just wait for what shows up.”
Wait? Anyone who knows me knows that patience is not one of my strong points. If it is even one of my points at all. But I trusted her and I painstakingly waited. In the meantime, I’d sit on my porch in the dark of the morning and pray: Show me what’s next on the path. I do not need to see the destination, but show me the next step and I will take it.
A month later, as I was out walking my dogs at 5:30 in the morning, I crossed paths with a neighbor I hadn’t yet met: the one and only Jim Dodson.
He stopped me and introduced himself, explaining that he was founding editor of O.Henry magazine. We’d only lived here for a year-and-a-half and I had a little one, a teen and a tween at home. In all honesty, I hadn’t heard of it. But I nodded my head along, pretending I knew all about it.
“We’re thinking of doing a story on children’s pandemic art and I noticed your daughter has done several chalk drawings in your driveway. She’s quite talented. Do you think she’d talk to us?”
Emmy is not the extrovert that I am, so I got his email address and told him I’d look into it as my dogs yanked me along, raring to go.
A few days later, I sent along some photos of Emmy’s handiwork — Baloo from Jungle Book, Homer Simpson, Rapunzel, to name a few — as well as a link to a post on my website, where I’d featured a colorful, cheery piece she’d painted for our pandemic porch. Shortly after that, Jim called me. “I have a job that I think you might be perfect for.”
And that, I tell Ashe, is how I came to be on that Zoom interview with her.
“Well,” she says, “that’s some kind of magic. However it happened, I’m glad you found your way here.”
“Me, too,” I say. Five years later, Ashe and I remain good friends, even though she’s answered the call of the mountains. I no longer write O.Hey — Christi Mackey has seamlessly taken over — but now sit in the editor’s seat of O.Henry, still just as
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is the month I take stock of the year’s happenings, the ordinary ups and downs as well as the unexpected challenges and graces that come with being alive and kicking in 2025. This year, however, I’m looking back a bit further.
Two years ago, seemingly out of the blue as my oldest golf buddy, Patrick, and I were setting off on a golf adventure across Southern England, celebrating our mutual 70th birthdays and 60 years of friendship, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Talk about a trip buzz killer.
Naturally, I was surprised to discover that I was one of a quarter million American men who annually develop prostate cancer. But perhaps I shouldn’t have been.
My dad, you see, discovered his prostate cancer at age 70. He chose to have his prostate surgically removed and went on to live a productive and happy life for the next decade. My nickname for him was “Opti the Mystic,” owing to the extraordinary faith and unsinkable optimism that carried him to the very end.
A few years later, as I was completing work on my friend Arnold Palmer’s memoir, A Golfer’s Life, the King of Golf was also diagnosed with the disease. Likewise, Arnie had just turned 70. He went straight to the Mayo Clinic and had his prostate removed. He lived a full life, reaching 87 years.
Experts say that most prostate cancers occur in men without a family history, though they concede that there may well be a family gene factor involved. In retrospect, I like to think that I was
simply destined to follow the leads of the two men I admired most — a unique medical case of “like father, like son, plus his favorite boyhood sports hero.”
Joking aside, I chose a different treatment path than my dad and Arnie because, as I learned, there have been tremendous medical advances in prostate cancer treatment since their dances with the disease, providing modern patients a much greater chance of living out their natural life expectancy.
Thus, under the direction of an outstanding urologist named Lester Borden and veteran Cone Health oncologist Gary Sherrill, I chose six weeks of targeted radiation therapy followed by 24 months of a relatively new “super drug” my oncologist called “the Cadillac of prostate treatment.”
During the discussions of options, I quipped to Lester (a fellow golfer) that I hoped to publish at least three more books on golf before I exited the fairways of life and someday shoot my age, the quest of every aging golfer. I also assumed that the golf trip to England was now out of the question.
Lester smiled. “You’ll have three books and maybe more,” he said. “Meanwhile, the best thing you can do now is to go play golf with your buddy in England and have a great time. That’s the best medicine.”
So, off we went. And though it turned out to be the statistically wettest week since the Magna Carta, Patrick and I had a wonderful journey from Southern England’s east coast to west, seeing old friends and playing 18 nine-hole matches through howling winds and sideways rain over seven of Britain’s most revered golf courses. Somehow, amazingly, our roving golf match wound up being tied — in retrospect, perhaps the perfect end-
ing and just what the doctor ordered. My prostate problem hardly entered my mind.
During our last stop at a historic club called Westward Ho, where we were both overseas members for many years, we had a delightful lunch (probably for the last time) with our dear friend, Sir Charles Churchill, 90, a legend in British golf circles, who reveled in our soggy tales of a golf match nobody won. The real winner, Charles reminded us, was our enduring friendship.
As anyone who makes the cancer journey understands, or quickly discovers, optimism and faith are essential tools in the fight against this merciless disease.
Upon our return I resolved to spend the rest of my days with more optimism, good humor and a deeper gratitude for the life and work I’ve enjoyed — along with an awakened empathy for others who aren’t as fortunate.
The tools in my kit include a keen (if somewhat private) spiritual life that I exercise every morning when I chat with God under the stars. Plus, I often ask his (or her) advice throughout the day, especially when I’m watching birds at the feeders in early morning or late afternoon.
One of the surprising gifts from this period was a song I heard by chance — or maybe not? — called “I See the Birds,” by a gifted songwriter named Jon Guerra.
I was stuck in heavy city traffic, late for a lunch date and stewing over the insane way people drive these days, when this incredible song from God-knows-where mysteriously popped up on my music feed.
I see the birds up in the air
I know you feed them
I know you care
So won't you teach me
How I mean more to you than them
In times of trouble
Be my help again
By the end of the song, I was fighting back tears. It’s from a beautiful album simply titled “Jesus” that’s based on the Book of Matthew.
That song became the theme of my two-year journey back to health. I still listen to it at least once a day.
I also turned to the timeless
of the old friends who line my library bookshelves.
“Don’t waste your life in doubts and fears,” advised Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of my favorite non-golfing heroes. “Spend yourself on the work before you, well assured that the right performance of this hour’s duties will be the best preparation for the hours or ages that follow it.”
With that guidance, the work before me during my cancer journey included the pleasure of publishing my most rewarding book and finishing a landscape garden that I’ve worked on for a decade. I also received a new left knee that might someday improve the quality of my golf game.
Best of all, we learned that my daughter, Maggie, is pregnant with a baby girl, due Christmas Eve, finally making me a granddad. Talk about a gift from the universe.
The final touch came last week when oncologist Gary Sherrill provided the good news. “You’re doing great,” he said after an extensive check-up “No sign of cancer anywhere. You’re good to go.”
A few days later, my friend Lester Borden confirmed the good news, reminding me that there will always be periodic follow-ups to make sure the scourge never returns.
I assured him I could live with that.
On a sweeter note, we also talked about his recent golf trip to Scotland with 11 of his buddies and the pleasures of introducing his son to golf. I pictured Opti the Mystic and the King of Golf, together somewhere on a heavenly golf course, smiling at this news.
In the meantime, I’m doubling down on the things I’ve learned from my unexpected journey.
To judge less and love more. To thank my maker and see the birds up in the air. Who knows? Maybe someday this budding grandpa may even shoot his age. OH
Jim Dodson is the founding editor of O.Henry. His 17th book, The Road That Made America: A Modern Pilgrim Travels the Great Wagon Road, is available wherever books are sold.
November at Weymouth Center
« November 9, 1:00 pm: Strike at the Wind
« November 16, 2:00 pm: Chamber Sessions: Yu & I Duo
Also this month at Weymouth Center:
November 1:
November 10:
November 13:
November 17:
November 18:
November 18:
November 19:
November 25:
Open House and Self Guided Tour
Meet the Author: Katrina Denza
Meet the Author: Meagan Church
Women of Weymouth Meeting
Meet the Author, Dr. Matthew Harmody
James Boyd Book Club
Mildred Barya Poetry Reading
Song Circle Jam Session
Looking forward to the holidays? Weymouth Wonderland is on Saturday, December 6th, 10:00am – 4:00pm!
Tour the festive Boyd House, visit Santa, shop local vendors and the Holiday Shoppe, enjoy treats and food trucks, and catch live performances. Fun for the whole family! Donations accepted at entry.
Scan the QR code for tickets and additional information!
555 East Connecticut Avenue, Southern Pines, NC
Sazerac
"A spirited forum of Gate City food, drink, history, art, events, rumors and eccentrics worthy of our famous namesake"
Just One Thing
There’s nothing like a history museum celebrating, well, its own long history. On November 11, the Greensboro History Museum unveils an exhibit honoring its centennial: GHM100: Treasures. Legacies. Remix. Featured, you’ll find rarely seen museum goodies, including what Curator of Collections Ayla Amon says is her personal favorite in the collection, a Tunisian kaftan that was given to Dolley Madison in 1805 by Sidi Soliman Mellimelli. It is said that Mellimelli wrapped the Tunisian garment — made of red velvet, lined with green silk damask and decorated with gilt silver thread — around Dolley as a gift intended to bring childbearing fortune to her and husband James Madison, who was then serving as U.S. Secretary of State. Fabricated from heavy, luxury materials, it’s not just a cloak, but a work of art that Amon says is a must-see in person. Notably, Mellimelli was the first Muslim envoy to come to the United States. He came, hoping to avert a war between Tunis and the U.S., who had violated a treaty by capturing Tunisian vessels. At the conclusion of his visit, he sent a letter to James Madison. The letter concludes, “With heartfelt regret I shall leave this Country while our affairs wear so inauspicious a complexion . . .” Behold the kaftan along with 100 years of archival treasures at the Greensboro History Museum. Info: greensborohistory.org/exhibition/ghm100-treasures-legacies-remix
Window on the Past
At a 1950s Cone Mills Cooking School demo, we aren’t sure what’s being said, but we imagine it’s along the lines of what came out of Lessons in Chemistry’s Elizabeth Zott: “Children, set the table. Your mother needs a moment.” As Thanksgiving chaos rolls around, we gently remind you to take a moment for yourself, too.
Sage Gardener
Why wait until New Years Day to serve collard greens? If, after reading this, collards don’t make an appearance at your Thanksgiving or Christmas feast, you’re not paying attention.
Collard greens are bristling with vitamins A, C, K and B-6, plus iron, magnesium, folate, potassium — and lots of silica in the form of sand — that is, if you don’t rinse them twice. My rule of green thumb: Rinse thrice just to be nice.
Speaking of the rinse cycle, let’s talk about cleaning your colon with fiber, which reduces inflammation and balances blood sugar. The Cool Kids comedian David Alan Grier observes that collards “get outta you faster than they get in you.”
Before they began making their appearance served upon crisp linen table cloths in tiny boîtes, collards were seen as poor folks’ food, with recipes for cooking them imported by enslaved people along with, unwillingly, themselves. They thrive in nutrient-poor soil and adverse conditions, making them ideal for hard times.
Lutein. Zeaxanthin. Don’t worry about pronouncing them. You’ll soon see that these sulfur-rich compounds (along with our old friend vitamin K) guard against age-related eye diseases.
And go ahead and savor that second glass of wine. The sulfur-rich compounds in collards clean out your liver.
Kamala Harris confessed that her collard green recipe is so popular she uses her bathtub to wash her big mess of collards around the holidays.
If you have a slab of fatback and fry it up, and also have some leftover cornbread from your Thanksgiving Day feast, you have all the makings for a collard-green sammie as featured in Bon Appétit. May we recommend the addition of some Texas Pete.
If people are worried about eating the official state vegetable of South Carolina (where more collards are grown than anywhere else), just tell them they’re eating Brassica oleracea.
— David Claude Bailey
Grey Poupon
One day, when I was 7, the jar of Grey Poupon appeared in our refrigerator, heavy and rare as an apple in our steak-and-potatoes house.
After Dad’s shift at the print shop, I asked him about this new jar of mustard. He turned to me, setting down his Busch Light, shook his head, and said, “Your mother is trying to be all fancy.”
“Have you tried it?” I asked.
“It’s just mustard,” he said.
The next morning, I peeked around the corner as my father made his daily ham and cheese. After dipping the butter knife into the Grey Poupon, he brought it to his tongue, nodded as if satisfied, then slathered a generous helping on his sandwich.
When I stepped into the kitchen, he jumped, as if I’d caught him in some dirty act.
— Steve Cushman
Unsolicited Advice
November is about giving more than just thanks for your many blessings — it’s about giving back. These days, donating money to a near-and-dear cause is just a simple QR code away, but it’s not always that easy when your budget is tighter than your post-pecan-pie pants (never mind that thin slice of pumpkin pie you also ate — it barely counts). True, November might be hard on your waistline, but we’re gonna make it easier on your bottom line with things you can give other than Benjamins.
Stuff. Local organizations are often in need of gently used clothing, toys, furnishings and decor. Closet more stuffed than your vegan cousin Nina’s tofurkey? Clean it out while doing some good in the world. Somewhere, Marie Kondo is sitting at her Thanksgiving table, full of gratitude for the millions of us who are sparking some joy in the world — and her wallet.
Skills. Got a special talent that could be of service? Maybe you’re a website designer who can level up your fav non profit’s site. Service with a smile — and style. As MLK Jr. once
you doing for others?’” Don’t be caught without an answer.
Energy. Instead of giving 5K, register to run a 5K for a cause. Maybe this is the year your family turns into the one we all love to hate. You know ‘em — they show up to the Turkey Trot in matching costumes that should make it hard to jog, but they still finish in the lead, having barely broken a sweat.
Time. Carve out a little of your most precious commodity to spend it volunteering in a soup kitchen or playing with shelter pups. Bonus if you bring home Fido and give him a home for
QW HAPPENINGS & NEWS
• Romance Packages & A La Carte Amenities at O.Henry & Proximity Book online at ohenryhotel.com or proximityhotel.com
• O.Henry LIVE Jazz! Every Thursday from 6-9 PM and Select Saturdays 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
Merry Makers
“I feel like my art is love made visible,” muses Katie Podracky, a teacher and first-time vendor at Merry Merry Market this year. “I love that people who know nothing of that story can come to it and also feel some type of hidden connection.” Katie takes inspiration from North Carolina, the state in which she was born and raised. The vibrant scenery and lively nature — who doesn’t love a galloping white-tailed deer or the sound of a rushing waterfall from time to time? — influence her canvas. After a little mountain climbing and several animal encounters from her local state parks, Katie and her husband became avid outdoor lovers. “I had a friend tell me, ‘Oh you should paint something’ and I was like, ‘Oh that’s a good idea, let’s do that’ and it really connected me to North Carolina.” Katie says she learned a lot about her home state through her art.
Katie has long loved Merry Merry Market and is excited to be on the other side of the vendor table this time around. “I tell all of
my friends and my students that Merry Merry Market is such a great event because they collect quality vendors who happen to be local artists.” Katie’s paintings, plus accessories, home decor and other artisan wares, are among the many items you could buy as a gift for a family member, friend or even for yourself. We always enjoy the saying, “one for you, three for me.” And, as if that wasn’t enough to draw your attention, a portion of the $5 admission will be donated to BackPack Beginnings, a nonprofit that connects children and their families with the resources they need to develop and grow. So, mark your calendars to get some much needed holiday shopping done at Merry Merry Market, 9 a.m.–8 p.m., Wednesday, Nov. 19, at Revolution Mill’s Colonnade Events Center. Did we mention the bar opens at 5 p.m.? Info: merrymerrymarketgso.com. — Joi Floyd
Scorpio
(October 23
— November 21)
There’s a fine — and in your case, blurred — line between passionate and possessive. When Venus struts into Scorpio on Nov. 6 (where she’ll glamp out until month’s end), that line is primed to become a short leash if left unchecked — and nobody wants to be on the other end of that. A word of advice: Don’t smother the fire. Tempted as you may be to cling fast and tight, a little space will keep the coals glowing red hot.
Tea leaf “fortunes” for the rest of you:
Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21)
Stick to the recipe.
Capricorn (December 22 – January 19)
Pack a lint roller.
Aquarius (January 20 – February 18)
Thaw before cooking.
Pisces (February 19 – March 20)
Don’t overwork the potatoes.
Aries (March 21 – April 19)
The shortcut won’t be worth it.
Taurus (April 20 – May 20)
Go easy on the garlic.
Gemini (May 21 – June 20)
Cling wrap, baby.
Cancer (June 21 – July 22)
The dishes are piling up again.
Leo (July 23 – August 22)
Shake the rug, darling.
Virgo (August 23 – September 22)
Dare you to bust out the fine china.
Libra (September 23 – October 22)
Serve yourself an extra slice of grace. 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.
THIS YEAR, STIR UP SOME NEW HOLIDAY MEMORIES.
Let the magic of the holidays surround you in Alamance County, where every street, shop, and celebration is brimming with warmth and wonder.
Celebrate the season by stepping into a charming holiday setting filled with twinkling lights, joyful music, and timeless traditions.
Save the date:
Nutcracker Stroll: 11/7-12/31
Winter Wonderland Craft Show: 11/22
Holiday Magic: 12/13
Christmas in the Park: 12/22
Whether you’re visiting for a weekend or just passing through, come stir up some new memories and celebrate the season in a place that truly shines.
You’ll find small surprises lead to big memories in Alamance County.
Filament Coffee
by m aria JohNsoN
A Pause with Mrs. Claus
A kitchen-table convo with her local ally, Mebane Ham
It’s 80 degrees in September when Mebane Ham answers the door in full red-velvet regalia.
Her floor-length smock is cinched in back with a bow.
Her cuffs are trimmed in white fur.
Her cap, edged in lace.
Her ears, evergreen, dripping with Christmas tree earrings.
Her face is flushed and radiant.
Or maybe she’s just burning up.
“Here, this is for you,” she says, handing me a candy cane adorned with a ribbon while begging me to take extras back to the office. “You can’t buy just one these things.”
Sometimes, it’s hard to tell where Mebane Ham ends and Mrs. Claus, as in spouse o’ Santa, begins.
Twinkly blue eyes?
That’s 71-year-old Mebane, especially post-cataract surgery.
Same goes for Mrs. Claus, who is also 71, give or take a few centuries.
Rosy face and ready laugh? That’s Mebane, once the extra blush is applied. It’s also Mrs. Claus, considering the windburn that comes from living at the North Pole.
A propensity to hug people? That’s Mrs. Claus. And most definitely Mebane.
A fondness for telling it like it is, sparing no adjectives?
That’s Mebane, for sure, when she’s off the elfin clock.
But no way is that her Mrs. Claus, who’s a safe haven for children, a protector of young ears and hearts.
“That’s how I portray her,” Mebane says with a steel thread in her voice.
She — Mebane, that is — first believed in Santa when she was a kid growing up on St. Andrews Road, which was then a dirt road, in Greensboro’s Irving Park.
Her mother was a stay-at-home mom. Her dad was a salesman.
Every December, the family went downtown to take in the department store windows that were dressed for the holidays.
Somewhere in her home in the Dunleath Historic District, Mebane has a picture of her and her siblings with Santa.
“As the youngest of four kids, I learned real quick that the longer you believed, the longer you got stuff,” she says with a hearty heh-heh-heh. She grew up believing in Santa, without paying much mind to Mrs. Claus, who was a minor character, at best, in the Christmas stories she heard.
It wasn’t until she’d moved away then came back home to help care for a mom with dementia that she got the idea that she could be Mrs. Claus, or at least find the Mrs. C in herself.
It helped that her friend, Eloise Hassell, asked in the early aughts if Mebane would take her place as a seasonal Mrs. Claus at the Barnes & Noble bookstore in Friendly Center, where she told stories during a weekly children’s hour.
At first, Mebane winged it, conflating the story of Little Red Riding Hood with the fairy tale of Goldilocks and the Three Bears — and adding a Christmas twist.
“The parents looked at me like, ‘What kind of drugs are you on?!’”
The next time, Mebane read from a new Christmas book for children. It went much better. After the story time, the kids asked questions. Mrs. C was quick on her clogs.
“What’s your first name?” they asked.
Merry, of course.
“Why are you wearing a wig?”
You should see what riding in a sleigh does to your hair.
“What do you do at the North Pole?”
Who do you think teaches the reindeer to fly? Or shows Santa how to use the GPS?
“How long have you and Santa been married?”
Hundreds of years. Or at least it feels like that sometimes.
“Why aren’t you wearing a wedding ring?”
Oh, my gosh! I took it off to bake cookies with the elves last night and forgot to put it back on.
Later, Mebane recounted the ringless story to a friend who then donated her deceased mom’s gold wedding band to the cause.
“She would love knowing that you’re wearing it for this reason,” the friend said.
After a while, word got around about the married lady who dressed in red and could be hired by the hour.
Mebane — who by then ran her own business devoted to helping small businesses and nonprofits do media and community relations — booked more gigs as Mrs. C.
As opposed to Renaissance or a Victorian figure, she fancied herself a 20th-century character, like the ruddy Santa who appeared in Coca-Cola ad campaigns from 1931 to 1964.
She took her jolly self to Christmas parades in Greensboro and Charlotte, where she rode on floats with the Mister.
She popped into office parties.
She strolled the sidewalks, doling out candy canes at the Festival of Lights in Greensboro. If a kid dropped a candy cane and it broke, Mrs. C. asked for it back and replaced it with a new stick. Cracked candy canes, she said, made excellent reindeer chow.
If a child started stomping candy canes in the name of reindeer nutrition, Merry/ Mebane made it clear the reindeer had enough food — so cut it out, kiddo.
Mama Christmas don’t play. But she does have a soft heart.
At retirement homes, Merry/Mebane started Christmas carols for the residents, whose memories were in various stages of repair. They took over after a couple of verses. Some had not spoken in months.
She built gingerbread houses at country-club family events.
In Winston-Salem, she held small audiences with children with auditory issues. Santa, with his booming voice, could overwhelm them.
Mrs. Claus was softer, more approach-
able. They came to her.
floor, reading and playing. They were making eye contact with me. To do that, and see the difference you can make . . . ”
has changed, and Mrs. Claus has changed with them.
agency to nix her visits to retirement homes.
teers at the front desk of Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, keeps popping up, at an hourly rate much cheaper than that of a typical Santa. Pay equity, it seems, has not reached the North Pole.
ing this,” says Merry/Mebane. “I do this because I like it. I get my warm jollies out of this.”
She still does parades.
And office celebrations.
And the Festival of Lights, where kids literally come running for her.
She still visits the kids with special needs in Winston-Salem.
Last year, she volunteered at a children’s home in Crossnore, which had been hit by flooding from Hurricane Helene.
Benefactors paid a locally owned bookstore, Scuppernong, to supply wrapped, hardcover Christmas books for the kids. Merry/Mebane delivered Where’s Waldo? to the children, read with them, encouraged them to be good people.
Here, at her kitchen table, within view of a quote tile that says “If you’re not a bad influence, I’m afraid we can’t be friends,” she allows that Mrs. Claus is another side of worldly, wise-cracking Mebane.
“Mebane Ham cares, is concerned and worries,” she says, her blue eyes growing dewy under frosty curls.
“This is something I can do about it. It’s kindness.” OH
Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry. Email her at ohenrymaria@gmail. com.
As Thanksgiving nears and November settles in, I’m feeling especially grateful. This season of thanks has me reflecting on the incredible people who’ve made this year so special—my friends, family, and the amazing clients who’ve become both. Your trust, support, and kindness have filled my days with purpose, excitement, and a few fun challenges along the way. I truly love what I do, and I’m so thankful to each and every one of you for being a part of this journey. Wishing you a joyful, heart-filled Thanksgiving!
From Poetry to Prose
Creating a finely crafted debut novel
By Stephen e. Smith
On an unseasonably cool August night in Charleston, South Carolina, I’m sitting in Kaminsky’s Dessert Café with Linda Annas Ferguson, whose first novel, What the Mirrors Knew, arrived that day in the form of 500 paperback and hardcover books. (The official release date was Sept. 21.) She’s glowing with that nervous anticipation felt by every author of a freshly published work — she’s proud, exuberant, anxious and pleasantly overwhelmed by her achievement. She’s seen the germ of an idea to completion, and the fruits of her labor are contained in a beautifully designed novel of almost 400 pages that pleads to be read by appreciative readers.
This isn’t Ferguson’s first book. She began her writing career as a poet and has successfully published and marketed five books of poetry. Her poem “On the Way Home” appeared in our September issue.
Still, I am keenly aware that writing poetry can, oddly enough, be an encumbrance. When a writer proficient in one genre tests his or her talent in a different form — a novelist writes poems, a playwright turns to poetry, etc. — we’re often skeptical, wondering how much professional skill will carry over. Who can recite one of the poems from Hemingway’s first book, Ten Poems? How many of us have read Faulkner’s The Marble Faun? So here’s the question: Will the accomplished poet become the clumsy apprentice to the novel?
Turns out that narrative poetry was Ferguson’s training ground, so she experienced a natural transition to prose. Upon reading her novel — having escaped the shadow of Kaminsky’s Tollhouse Bourbon Pecan Pie to delve into the haunting dark-
ness of What the Mirrors Knew — it’s apparent that her poetic skills are readily transferable.
“My writing life began with telling stories through poetry,” Ferguson says. “Unlike many writers who were influenced at a young age, I only started writing seriously when I was around 30 years old. I scribbled my family stories in journals which eventually became poems.”
Ferguson’s novel is a lyrical blend of spirituality and philosophy, featuring sharply drawn characters who emerge as wholly believable. Her use of dialogue is sharp and sparse, and the narrative is enriched by an energized prose style that propels the reader ever forward. Stir in a touch of philosophy, spirituality, mystery and romance, and you’ve got a first-class novel that reads like the work of a seasoned professional. More importantly, the narrative embodies a strong sense of resonance, a lingering afterglow that will leave the reader pondering the moment.
“In some ways my novel is similar to a long poem, with one particular chapter in it serving as a volta, a turning point, as in a sonnet. I haven’t written a great deal of sonnets, but many poems, even free verse and especially narrative ones, have a turning point about two-thirds of the way through.”
Ferguson is also influenced by film, conceiving her chapters as scenes from a movie. “I visualize it all in my mind as if I am present in each scene,” she says. “I’ve always enjoyed the transition from scene to scene in films. At the end of one chapter, I have a bee beating its wings against a glass window, and the next chapter begins with a friend rapping on the back door glass. Because of what film has instilled in me, transitions seem to come without much conscious plotting.”
Leaving Charleston’s blessedly cool weather behind, the question that occurs to me in the moment is what strategy Ferguson has contrived to promote her novel. She’s had experience running a small bookstore and obviously has “a business head,” but the marketplace for books is highly competitive. Chain and local bookstores have partnered with major publishers to feature read-
ings by their new authors. The competition is keen for time and space to make appearances, often squeezing out small, independent presses. Moreover, online platforms featuring books can place another barrier between the writer and consumer. Unless you’re John Grisham, Stephen King or James Patterson, your books aren’t likely to fly off the shelves without some vigorous umph from a promotional entity.
But Ferguson has a plan. “Creating good content on social media is critical in this environment of cyberspace interaction,” she says. “My first step was to expand my presence to two Facebook accounts, two Instagram accounts (one personal and one professional), and one LinkedIn account. I have quite a few followers on Facebook, but I don’t just create posts. I build friendships as I congratulate other writers on their accomplishments, and they connect with what I am doing. I join groups where we can share our successes and issues and support each other.”
Initially, Ferguson vacillated about creating a video trailer for the book, but she’s glad she did. It includes a narrator, music, quotes from the novel and a beautiful video of Ireland. Besides posting it on social media, she can upload it to a personal YouTube platform.
“And one thing I would add, which readers will find prevalent in my writing, is that I take stock in how the universe seems to help those who have a dedication to their path, regardless of where they are on it. ‘Intention, attention and commitment’ are good promises to make to yourself. Keep writing and publishing!”
Which is precisely what Linda Annas Ferguson has done. She’s liberated her imagination, pressed the power button on her computer and written a novel. She’s done something that anyone who’s determined to write a book can do — if they have the skill, nerve and determination to do it. The big job, the hard work of putting it in the hands of readers, lies ahead. OH
Stephen E. Smith’s most recent book, The Year We Danced: A Memoir, is the recipient of a 2025 Feathered Quill Book Award.
Dressed to Depress
A fit about ‘fits
By Cynthia a damS
I’mall for casual wear. Blue jeans outnumber all else in my closet.
My grandmothers would roll over in their graves — probably still in girdles in the afterlife — if they saw me wearing a T-shirt and jeans to a work meeting. Like their friends, they wore dresses daily, unless, say, gardening and sometimes even then. And beneath their simple frocks, torturous girdles held everything firmly in place.
Certainly, until my Mama starved herself to her goal, she wore a girdle anytime she gussied up. Which was almost all the time — because Mama, as she often made clear, had dreams. She dressed for the life she aspired to, a glamorous life like that of the film and soap opera stars she adored.
And she swore up and down they wore girdles.
“Shape wear” is what such undergarments are called now, rebranded as such by reality show celebrities. “Girdle” is an outmoded expression that might just puzzle younger folk. Defined by Merriam-Webster: a woman’s close-fitting undergarment often boned and usually elasticized that extends from the waist to below the hips. A girdle, I will stress, by any other name, be it the cutesy “Spanx” or “Skims,” is still an instrument of torture — and I never intend to wear one.
(Round is a perfect shape, by the way.)
Comfort, certainly among my Southern kin, had no place.
My grandmothers wore hats, too, when they dressed up, which meant no part of their body, not even their head, was comfortable. These were not boho bucket hats. They were as bizarrely shaped as the fascinators beloved by the Brits. Often, they were placed on a perilous angle requiring actual hat pins to hold in
place. Getting a flu shot or a root canal might exempt them from hat wearing, but, even then they wore their Sunday best, strictly necessitating girdles, hose and heels.
Flats were for invalids and old age pensioners, I was taught. Suitable only for shuffling to and fro when reduced to shuffling only.
Of course, the world changed. Girdles (excepting Spanx, or on those recovering from back surgery or suffering from hernias) grew rare. Even fewer folk wore hats. Or dressed up for anything but an occasion, such as a wedding or funeral.
Even a funeral isn’t a sure thing when it comes to graveside mourners kitted out in veils, hose and heels, looking like prime suspects in a British whodunnit.
It’s disappointing, frankly, that funerals don’t merit sartorial suffering anymore.
As far as root canals or any other medical procedure goes, patients no longer put as much effort — if any — into their appearance as my grandmothers once did. I learned this on morning walks, winding through a medical park, where multitudes arrive for medical appointments.
The scrubs-clad staff arrive dressed for business.
But the patients? They check in wearing jeans, shorts, T-shirts, flip-flops or sneakers — basically, whatever they might wear to wash the dog.
Or less.
One morning, a young woman exiting a suite of eye specialists stepped into view, wearing what appeared to be a skimpy twopiece swimsuit. As in an actual bikini.
What an eye test!
I gawped. Speaking of dogs, when did Southerners decide to just let themselves go?
Mama never went to a doctor’s appointment, the DMV
or the A&P without hair and makeup done. Her outfit — heels, purse and, always, clip-on “ear bobs” — carefully chosen. None of it was chosen for comfort. The heels made her bunions throb, and the clip-ons made her ear lobes pulse with pain. But, like Clairee in Steel Magnolias, Mama firmly believed “the only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize.”
As I tugged a garbage can to the street Sunday afternoon, a woman and her daughter walked past with a Collie. The middle-aged mother wore a skimpy nylon sports bra and even skimpier shorts. No top.
The dog was the most modestly dressed of the three.
Mama wouldn’t have gone to her own back porch wearing her underwear with a pair of shorts. Not even if the only creatures in sight were raccoons.
My mind screamed. “God’s nightgown! That woman’s walking down the street in a bra!”
Comfort is a peculiar thing. I get comfort, especially when it comes to shoes, I truly do. And, dear readers, I get body positivity. That mother is comfortable with herself in a way I can never be.
Having never understood Madonna’s embrace of underwear as outwear, bralettes as tops or lacy, colorful bra straps deliberately revealed, it seems I have officially entered the Age of Concealment.
I personally prefer to have all my bits fully covered as my age accelerates past all legal speed limits.
That makes me comfortable.
But to the consternation of my elders, I, too, once rebelled against being trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey in underwire bras and infuriating pantyhose.
“But, Honey,” my Daddy would say as he frowned at my low-slung bell bottoms. “Look at your Mama. Dress like you own the bank, not like you need a loan.”
He groaned as I strutted away on Peewee Herman-style platforms: “What on God’s Earth have we come to?” OH
Cynthia Adam is a contributing editor to O.Henry magazine.
A Family Caring for Families
Established as a family-owned and -operated home care agency, our mission is to enable individuals to remain in the comfort of their own homes. In 2010, Lisa Clapp Hmiel made the difficult decision to leave her family’s nursing home following a devastating race car accident that paralyzed her son. This pivotal moment inspired Lisa and her youngest son, Tyler, to open Home Helpers of Jamestown in 2013. Our goal is to offer everyone the same compassionate and loving care provided to her son, Shane.
By tom m axwell
Alex Maiolo is a creature of pure energy. It’s not that he talks fast or acts nervous — he’s simply an ongoing conversation about electronic music, geography and whatever else happens to capture his interest. He’s also a singular kind of globetrotter, one who doesn’t sound pretentious about it. He loves Estonia’s capital, Tallinn, so much he made music with the place, a 2021 conceptual performance he called Themes for Great Cities.
Sounds of a City
Music with a connection to place
Conceived as one of his two main pandemic projects — the other was getting better at making pizza — the musical idea took on a life of its own even as the flatbread faded. He invited Danish musician Jonas Bjerre, Estonian guitarist and composer Erki Pärnoja and multi-instrumentalist Jonas Kaarnamets to collaborate. What resulted was something that felt improvised, unpredictable and exhilarating.
“Even though I was living in Chapel Hill, I was trying to think about, well, what do you miss when you miss a city?” he says.
The obvious things — favorite restaurants, familiar streets — were only part of it. Beneath that, Maiolo sensed a deeper, subconscious connection to place that might be expressed musically. He seized upon the idea of treating the city itself as a collaborator. “I wanted to write a love letter to this incredible city by gathering elements of it and assembling them in a new way,” he says. Sounds and light readings became voltages; voltages became
notes. “Every synthesizer is just based on the assemblage of voltages,” Maiolo says. “So, if you have voltages — particularly between negative five and plus five volts — you can make music.”
The group collected source material across Tallinn: gulls shrieking overhead, rainwater rushing down a gutter, chatter in a market, the squeak of trams, cafeteria trays clattering at ERR (Estonia’s equivalent of the BBC). A custom-built light meter called the Mõistatus Vooluringid — “mystery circuit” — captured flickering light and converted it into voltages. These inputs were then quantized, filtered and transformed into sound. Tallinn became what Maiolo called “our fifth band member. And just like with any band member, you can say, ‘Hey, that was a terrible idea’ or ‘Way to go, city — that was a good one.’”
From the outset, the goal was to create something that felt alive. “We wanted happy accidents,” Maiolo says. “Quite frankly, I wanted to be in a situation where something could go wrong.”
Unlike a pre-programmed, pre-recorded synthesizer session, Themes for Great Cities was designed to court risk through completely live and mostly improvised performance — to create the same adrenaline rush that test pilots might feel, only with much lower stakes. “No one was going to crash,” Maiolo says.
That philosophy made the project’s debut even more dramatic. Originally slated for a 250-seat guild hall built in the 1500s, the show was suddenly moved to Kultuurikatel, a former power plant that holds a thousand. Then came another surprise: The performance would be broadcast live on Estonian national television, with the nation’s president in attendance. “It was far beyond anything I had imagined,” Maiolo admits. “I thought we were going to
PHOTOGRAPH BY JOHN GESSNER
play to 30 people in a room.”
Visuals by Alyona Malcam Magdy, unseen by the musicians until the night of the show, added a surreal dimension. Estonian engineers captured the performance in pristine quality. “It all came together,” Maiolo says. “The guys I was doing this with are total pros.” The recording was later mixed and pressed to recycled vinyl at Citizen Vinyl in Asheville. Unable to afford astronomical mailing expenses, Maiolo split 150 LPs between Estonia and the United States, carrying them in his luggage.
Though imagined as a one-off, Themes for Great Cities continued to evolve. The group returned to Estonia in 2022 for a new performance in Narva, reworking parts of the score and staging it in a former Soviet theater. “We didn’t record that one because it was similar to the first. But when we do Reykjavik, we’ll record that one and hopefully release it,” he says. Yes, Iceland looks like the next destination. The plan is to work partly in the city and partly in the countryside, where light, landscape and weather can all feed into the music.
The ensemble has grown tighter, but Maiolo emphasizes the lineup will be flexible, with an eye toward incorporating local musicians. Vocals may be added in future versions, perhaps improvised or even converted into voltages to manipulate the electronics. “Anything is possible,” he says.
Though he now lives in San Francisco, Maiolo continues to think of North Carolina as part of his creative geography. He still has his house in Chapel Hill, stays connected to Asheville’s Citizen Vinyl, and carries his records home through RDU.
Maiolo and his partner of seven years, Charlotte, are to be married in Saint-Germain-des-Prés in Paris. Her father, a German who came of age during World War II, once spent a year in San Francisco immersing himself in jazz. Even now, as he struggles with dementia, he plays clarinet and listens to Fats Waller and Oscar Peterson. The sense of music as a lifelong companion, capable of anchoring memory and identity, is yet another thread running through Maiolo’s work.
Ultimately, what began as an experiment has become an ongoing series of collaborations. Each city brings its own textures, rhythms and surprises. Each performance is both a portrait and a partnership. “At the end of the day, it just kind of sounds like music,” Maiolo says nonchalantly, as if jamming with an entire city is an everyday thing. OH
Tom Maxwell is an author and musician. A member of Squirrel Nut Zippers in the late 1990s, his most recent book, A Really Strange and Wonderful Time: The Chapel Hill Music Scene 1989-1999, was published in 2024.
The Powerful Fox Sparrow
Large, handsome and hard to spot
By SuSan CampBell
Sparrows are a common sight throughout central North Carolina in winter. Historically, eight different species could be found in a day across the Sandhills and Piedmont. The gregarious, prolific and very adaptable house sparrow was added to the mix in the 1800s by early settlers who yearned for a familiar bird from the Western Hemisphere — as well as a means to control insect pests associated with human habitation.
At this time of year, the largest and most handsome of the
seem to flock loosely with other sparrows and finches during the colder months. They prefer habitat that is immediately adjacent to water. Although they eat mainly insects during the summer, in winter seeds and berries tend to make up much of their diet.
More often than not, fox sparrows can be found in expanses of bottomland forest, kicking vegetation and debris for food, though there are lucky backyard birdwatchers who regularly observe them taking advantage of millet and other small seeds under their feeders. During very cold and wet weather, they may move farther into drier areas in search of a meal. I don’t usually see them where I live unless it snows — our predominantly grassy yard is too open to appeal to them. However, we have wet woods with dense tangles of evergreen vegetation not too far away.
Because of their size, fox sparrows are quite strong and capable of uncovering food that is buried deep in the forest
Seas the Moment
Andy Zimmerman heads windward with a new documentary
By Billy ingram
“That’s what sailing is, a dance, and your partner is the sea. And with the sea you never take liberties. You ask her, you don’t tell her.” ― Michael Morpurgo
Andy Zimmerman has
performed a Herculean feat in transforming the downtown area south of the railroad tracks around Elm Street. What was once a losing hand of forgotten, abandoned buildings languishing for untold decades is today a royal flush of vibrant hubs where you’ll now find SouthEnd Brewing, transform GSO, Fainting Goat Spirits and Forge Greensboro among other former eyesores he’s renovated elsewhere.
I met with Zimmerman to explore his latest effort on the largely unfinished but impressive second floor of yet another recovery mission, the original Blue Bell jeans plant on South Elm and Gate City Boulevard (rechristened Old Greensborough Gateway Center). The hat he’s wearing today is not that of downtown developer but executive producer. He’s been working on an upcoming documentary entitled Mavericks & Multihulls, a tribute to the multihull legends of seafaring, those amazing young men and their sailing machines.
That’s not a non sequitur. The company Zimmerman founded and retired from before arriving in Greensboro a couple decades ago, Wilderness Systems, was a leader in the production and design of kayaks, “probably the No. 3 manufacturer in the world,” he notes. “Certainly No. 1 as it relates to brand. Between the com-
panies that I owned and started, we made over a million kayaks.”
Under the WindRider label, Wilderness Systems fabricated more trimarans, a variation on the catamaran, than anyone anywhere. “The catamaran, as one of the designers likes to put it, is kind of a condo on the water — it’s commodious.”
“The trimaran has three hulls, the main hull, which is where you live,” Zimmerman points out for those who know little about watercrafts, aka me, “and then the two outriggers. You can call them training wheels,” making them faster and more stable than most other boats.
WindRider also manufactured hydrofoil sailboats, the cool, sleek models where the hull rises up out of the water at top speeds. “For me, it was a manufacturing accomplishment of a lifetime,” Zimmerman remarks about the difficulty of the build, which required some 800 components. The America’s Cup speedsters, he notes, “have trimmer ends, they’re doing 50 plus miles an hour in hydrofoils. The other boats we made money on, but the hydrofoil? No. It was the joy of creating.”
Questing for the creative is what led to his collaboration with Jim Brown, multihull sailing pioneer and high seas adventurer, as well as the impetus of this documentary. Mavericks & Multihulls chronicles the extraordinary lives of six sailing-world superstars, the aforementioned Brown, Woody Brown (no relation), Rudy Choy, Arthur Piver, James Wharram and Dick Newick.
Besides a shared connection with wind, waves and salty spray, Zimmerman points out that every one of the watermen spotlighted in this film was an extreme risk taker. “I met Jim [Brown] and was immediately attracted to his way of life,” he says. “Jim built a boat in his backyard. He took his two kids and his wife in Santa Cruz and said, ‘I don’t like the druggie scene here. I don’t like the Vietnam scene here. I wonder when the world’s going to blow up?’ And he said, ‘We’re getting on a boat.’” Brown and his
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family sailed the seas for three and a half years. “Went to Central America, South America and homeschooled his kids. Then came back when his wife said, ‘OK,
United Kingdom subject James Wharram was polyamorous, and some would call that alone off-the-charts bravery. “He’d have two, three women on his boat, they switched nights, they’d sleep together. This was back in the ’60s. Peace, love and waterbeds,” says Zimmerman. But the ultimate waterbed? “He turned people on to living on the
While Wharram was all wild wanderlust — and just plain lust — Dick Newick was all about speed. “If he could take a pound out of the boat, he’d do it to
Woody Brown, on the other hand, was a self proclaimed nature boy. “‘I want to be out in nature,’ he said,” quotes Zimmerman. “‘I don’t want motors, I want to sail.’” In that pursuit, he devised the first modern catamaran. “He reinvented the fin. He was a big surfer, too,” legendary, in fact. Living to the ripe age of 96, in his later years residing in Hawaii, Brown was a pioneer in chartering catamarans, taking groups of 40 or 50 people out on short oceanic sunset-viewing voyages.
Zimmerman recruited local filmmakers Michael Frierson and Kevin Wells, both with impressive documentary bona fides, to translate these stories to the big screen. To begin with, they conducted multiple interviews with Jim Brown, dating back to 2015. Many others who are passionate about sailing are featured, including Steve Callahan, who survived 76 days adrift in the Atlantic, and multihull designer and Mainer John Marples.
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Frierson and Wells were busy editing when I spoke with them. “There’s an immense amount of footage shot by [Canadian cinematographer ] Scott Brown [again, no relation to Jim or Woody Brown]. That’s the primary source material from the current period,” Frierson says. In addition, Jim Brown contributed thousands of photographs along
with 250 hours of footage he’d lensed over the decades.
The Mariners’ Museum and Park in Norfolk, the largest maritime museum in the country, made available their archives of motion-picture reels dating back to the dawn of the 20th century. “The footage is in every format known to man,” Wells notes. “Super 8, 16 mm film, DV cam video. So dealing with all the different resolutions has been challenging.”
Documentary filmmaking is like assembling pieces of a puzzle, or maintaining that fine line between devil and the deep blue sea, a rewarding yet daunting task crafting a narrative from random clips and pics shot by a multitude of unrelated individuals. “You’re finding the story out of all this,” Wells says about the challenging process to achieve an even keel. “You know there’s a story there — there’s probably a hundred stories there — but where is your focus? That part has been a lot of fun.”
What surprised Frierson and Wells most after diving into Mavericks & Multihulls (mavericksandmultihulls.com)? “That these guys were fairly accomplished carpenters,” Frierson replies. “They’re building their own boats and sailing them to Tahiti before GPS . . . The sense of self-reliance and guts that they had is just amazing.”
Wells concurs. “I think that’s representative of what a lot of these people think. They’re doing things, that to me, are
extraordinary, but they think it’s very ordinary. Building these contraptions and sailing off with their family in the middle of the ocean is still crazy to me.”
“Jim Brown is 92. He lives life so large and he’s writing a book,” Zimmerman remarks with obvious admiration for the film’s unlikely leading man. “He just wants to stay busy and engaged in life. And I’m not sure I know anybody more engaged in life than Jim.” Legally blind now, Jim Brown can no longer navigate, but he’ll never fully surrender his life aquatic. With his own hands, no surprise, he’s constructed a tiny house on top of a trimaran, one manufactured by Zimmerman’s former company. “So he can keep his boat right there on the water at his house in Tidewater, VA. And he goes and stays in that when it’s not too hot or too cold.”
As for Zimmerman’s future, his mainsail is set for steering into the calm blue yonder. “I’ve got one big project left in me.” After that, his licked finger is in the wind. “I wouldn’t mind living on a boat. I’m a minimalist now. It goes back to the overwhelming sensation I had as a young man when I realized that freedom is actually available. I frickin’ love it!” OH
Billy Ingram is a former Hollywood movie poster designer, a key member of the team the advertising world has dubbed “The New York Yankees of motion picture advertising.”
Why I Bought the Economy Size
Because she was not pretty, her overbite designed to rip prey, canines sharp as javelins, slight lisp. Because she could stand to lose a few pounds, and wore a flowing flora, and a gray cardigan strained across her chest. Because she smiled when she talked, her voice soft as a mother soothing a fussy child; because she suggested the best bargain but did not insist, just gently opened the jar, offered it like a sacrament, invited me to dip my finger into the cool face cream, gently imploring, try it; because I needed moisturizer, and she needed that job, I bought the large size, thanked her for the free gift, samples wrapped in tissue paper and tucked inside a pink pouch, the color of her dress.
— Pat Riviere-Seel
Pat Riviere-Seel is the author of Because I Did Not Drown.
Days
These men aren’t kids anymore, but when they were, they forged a legacy
By Ross Howell JR.
PHotogR aPHs By tiBoR NemetH
Stu Roberts
Former Greensboro Generals ice hockey players Ron Muir, Harvard Turnbull and Stu Roberts have a pretty good idea of what our new professional team, the Greensboro Gargoyles of the East Coast Hockey League, have on their minds.
A league championship.
That’s something the Generals, the city’s first professional hockey team, achieved in the 1962–1963 season of the old Eastern Hockey League. (A later franchise, the Greensboro Monarchs, won the ECHL championship title in the 1989–1990 season.)
After I schedule an interview with Ron Muir, I find it to be wonderfully apt that he lives just across the road from the Guilford Courthouse National Military Park and its monument to General Nathanael Greene.
One old general near another.
Muir’s 89 years old now, and I’m greeted at his door by two of his daughters, Elaine Miller and Susie Barham. Elaine teaches elementary school in Blowing Rock and Susie lives in Myrtle Beach.
Muir is sitting in a big recliner and is wearing a Wayne Gretzky jersey — for those of you who don’t follow the sport, Gretzky is a legendary National Hockey League player from Canada who was nicknamed “the Great One.” A hockey game set on mute slashes across the flat-screen TV facing Muir’s chair.
Hailing from small-town Seaforth, Ontario, between Lake Huron and Lake Erie, Muir was an athlete’s athlete — playing soccer, lacrosse, football, baseball and, of course, hockey.
“I decided I wanted to play professional hockey when I was about 10 years old,” Muir says.
“He’s always had his goals,” Elaine laughs.
And play professional hockey he did. Before moving his young family to Greensboro for the 1960–1961 EHL season at age 25, he’d already played professionally in Canada for three years. Standing 5 feet 11 inches tall and weighing a bruising 190 pounds, Muir played left wing.
Because of his experience and age, many of his teammates looked at him as a father figure.
“Many of them were these 18-, 19-year-old boys, and their families were all back in Canada,” Elaine says.
“At Christmas, Mom and Dad would have a huge party, and the whole team would show up in our little house,” she adds.
Muir remembers that the person who convinced him to join the Generals was the late Don Carter, who was from Toronto. The two men were the same age and had first met at a Chicago Blackhawks tryout in St. Catharines, Ontario.
When they saw each other again at a training camp, Muir had been scouted by an EHL team in Johnstown, Penn., and was ready to sign with them.
Carter was already a star with the Generals. Playing defenseman, he stood 5 feet 11 inches tall, and weighed 185 pounds.
“So Carter says to me, ‘Ron, you don’t have to go to Johnstown. Come on, we’ll go to Greensboro. I played there last year and it’s a good town,’” Muir recalls.
“I thought, hell, I haven’t signed a contract,” Muir continues. “So, I signed up with the Generals’ manager, who was also at the camp, and loaded up for Greensboro.”
“My father drove us down,” Elaine says. “It was a two-day trip back then, and Susie and I were toddlers.”
Harvard Turnbull
“And we just ended up staying,” Muir says.
Two more daughters came along, Sandy and Cindy, and both still live in Greensboro. After Muir’s first wife passed away, he remarried, and a stepson, Jason, became family, too. Now Muir has nine grandchildren and four great grandchildren.
The first season Muir and Carter skated together as Generals, the team made the finals. The second season, they won the EHL championship.
In those days, there was no Plexiglas around the rink, just boards and wire. The girls would sit close to the ice, and, when Muir skated by them, they’d shout, “Hey, Dad!”
“The kids from the other hockey families would be all around us in the crowd,” Elaine says. “It was great.”
Greensboro was a hockey town — and “the Generals were superstars,” Elaine says.
“My husband, Eric, played little league hockey,” she adds. “So he knew about Dad long before he met me.”
Susie laughs.
“Oh, yeah, my husband knew Dad before he ever asked me out,” she chimes in.
Elaine smiles.
“We’d date these guys, and they’d say, ‘You’re Ron Muir’s daughters?’ That was a bonus.”
Harvard Turnbull suggests we meet for a drink at Fleming’s Prime Steakhouse & Wine Bar. Turnbull is 84 years old. Originally from Toronto, he skated at the center position for the Generals, standing 5 feet 9 inches tall and weighing 160 pounds.
Though he was an experienced and skilled hockey player, Turnbull was still a teenager with a dream of making the National Hockey League (NHL) when he arrived in Greensboro. Signing with the Generals represented a big step toward achieving that dream.
Turnbull met with members of the Generals’ staff at the Sedgefield home of businessman Stanley Frank, one of the founding owners of the team, to finalize his contract.
“So, they said, ‘What do you want?’” Turnbull recalls.
“I said, ‘You fill it out and I’ll sign it.’ That’s how green I was. I was going to turn pro. It was like I was going to walk on water.”
Fortunately for Turnbull, coach Ron Spong made sure the contract included generous bonuses each time the team advanced in the playoffs.
And that was the Generals’ championship season.
“I went out and bought a new convertible,” Turnbull laughs.
“It was amazing,” he says. “We were treated like kings.”
Turnbull tells me as many as 5,000 fans would show up to watch the team play in a charity softball game. He and his teammates could play the Sedgefield golf course anytime they wanted. They were often invited into the homes of civic leaders and successful entrepreneurs.
The late Anne Cone was one of the owners of the Generals team in its glory days. A benefactor of UNCG’s Weatherspoon Art Museum, she was the wife of Cone Mills heir Benjamin Cone, mayor of Greensboro, 1949–1951, who passed away in 1982. The couple lived in a graceful Greensboro Country Club mansion.
“Anne Cone was absolutely wonderful,” Turnbull says. “She would invite us single guys to her house for dinner about once a month.”
Among the bachelor invitees was Bob Boucher from Ottawa.
As the story is told, when Cone was in Chamonix, France, on a ski trip, she learned that Boucher, who was playing European hockey, had been arrested in Italy for fighting and couldn’t make bail. Cone managed to have him released and flown to Greensboro, where he skated for the championship team at right wing, standing 5 feet 9 inches and weighing 170 pounds.
“Bobby was a character,” Turnbull says. “So, we’d be at one of Anne’s dinner parties, and Bobby’s sitting at the head of the table where she had all these buttons, and he’d push a button and a servant would come in. Then he’d push another and a wine steward would come in.”
“He was just pushing buttons to see what would happen,” Turnbull laughs. “But Anne was cool — she didn’t have a problem with it.”
Yes, the high life was “plush,” as Turnbull likes to say, but the sport of ice hockey could be punishing, especially in those days.
He shows me a photo.
“That’s Ron Muir in front of the net and I’m taking a shot on goal,” Turnbull says. “Listen, I could really shoot the puck back then, probably get it close to 100 mph.”
He places a fingertip on the goalie’s head in the photo. The goalie’s not wearing a face mask, let alone a helmet.
“If the puck had hit him in the head,” Turnbull muses, “it probably would’ve killed him.”
He shows me another action photo, snapped right at the moment an opposing player knocked Turnbull completely over the boards and into the stands.
“That was very painful,” he says. “But I came right back out on the ice.”
Turnbull tells me that his nose was cut so badly once when he was playing in Canada that it had to be sewn back on. He’s had teeth knocked out, fingers broken and suffered numerous concussions.
“You know what they called the EHL back in my day?” Turnbull asks.
“They called it ‘the meatgrinder league,’” he says, nodding slowly. “That’s how crazy it was.”
Turnbull believes if his teams had “proper helmets, proper rules,” maybe he wouldn’t have suffered so many injuries, which continue to plague him in his golden years.
“Still,” he concludes, “I’d do it all over again.”
I meet up with Stu Roberts at the Chick-fil-A just off Battleground Avenue.
Roberts is a native of St. Catharines, Ontario, and arrived in Greensboro in 1966. Although he was just 19 years old, he had already been playing for the St. Catharines Black Hawks, a Canadian junior ice hockey team, for four seasons. He stood 5 feet 7 inches tall and weighed 175 pounds, and didn’t waste any time making an impression in the EHL.
Roberts won the rookie of the year award in 1966–1967.
“I was fast, and that was my game,” he says. “And I could score goals. One year, I scored 62 goals in 72 games. Wonderful year.”
Roberts tells me that he wasn’t a bruiser like Muir and Carter
— he used his speed to avoid the hits.
And he knew how to please the crowd.
“I’m not bragging, but I’m proud of the fact that I won most popular player three years in a row,” Roberts says. “I used to tell Coach Spong I’d rather keep the people happy than win any other award.”
As long as the fans were behind him, he adds, “I knew I could keep my job.”
One of Roberts’ daughters, Ashley Barker, drops by the Chickfil-A to show me some of her Dad’s memorabilia.
Among the items is a newspaper article written by a St. Catharines reporter the summer after Roberts’ second season as a General.
The writer called Roberts “Mr. Excitement.”
“He’s a gambler, often diving, literally, across the ice to get the puck,” the reporter wrote.
The crux of the article?
That Roberts was a huge fan of another speedster — No. 43, stock car driver Richard Petty. So much so that he visited Petty in Randleman, who obliged Roberts by letting him try out the driver’s seat in No. 43. Not on the track, of course.
I ask Roberts about the teams the Generals faced in his eightyear career here.
“I’m telling you, we had some great teams,” Roberts says.
“Our nemesis was the Charlotte Checkers,” he continues. “We used to go to Charlotte on a Friday night and fill the place, and come back to Greensboro on Saturday night and fill the place. It was really good rivalry.”
And there were the Roanoke Valley Rebels, originally the Salem Rebels, in Virginia.
“We used to skate in the old Salem Civic Center, but then they built the Roanoke Civic Center, which was a beautiful rink,” Roberts says.
There were the Nashville Dixie Flyers and the Knoxville Knights in Tennessee.
And, yes, even back then, two teams from the Sunshine state — the Jacksonville Rockets and St. Petersburg Suncoast Suns.
“We carried 18 players on the team and did most of our travel by bus,” Roberts says. The bus had about 20 seats and the remaining space was set up with double-deck bunks.
“We had some good times,” he continues. “I remember a lot of bus rides in a lot of snow, getting from Greensboro to Nashville, or Nashville to Knoxville, or Knoxville to back home.”
Roberts pauses for a moment.
“I think maybe people have forgotten about the Greensboro Generals,” he muses.
I tell him about how many fans I’ve seen — some even high school age — who’ve been wearing old Generals jerseys at the Gargoyles media events I’ve attended. His face brightens.
“You know, I want to thank Greensboro,” Roberts says. “I skated on some great teams. I met my wife, Amanda, here. We raised our kids here. It’s been a wonderful ride.”
And who knows? Maybe our Greensboro Gargoyles in their inaugural season will create some glory days of their own. OH
Sadly, Ron Muir left us while this story was in production.
We sent photographer Tibor Nemeth to capture Gereensboro’s newest hockey team, the Gargoyles, warming up on the ice before their season kicked off in October. You can find the rest of their opening season schedule at gargoyleshockey.com.
PHotogR aPHs By tiBoR NemetH
UNCG Spartan Recovery members partner with The Moth for StorySLAM
By BRia N ClaRey, CouRtesy of uNCg uNiveRsity CommuNiCatioNs
PHotogR
aPHs By ly NN Hey
Ches Kennedy works the room before the storytelling event begins on a late summer Sunday evening in UNC Greensboro’s Elliott University Center Auditorium. As he makes his way down the aisle, he shakes hands with people in the seats, nodding acknowledgements, exchang ing kind words.
He greets newcomers as they come through the doors with the words heard so many times in rooms like these: “Welcome. Glad you’re here.”
Kennedy is here because he speaks the language of recovery. A veteran of the programs that have helped millions recover from drug and alcohol addiction, he’s fluent in the 12-step process, seasoned in the ways of chemical dependency, intricately familiar with the well-trod path from active addiction to . . . something better, something more.
He’s walked it himself.
“I never imagined 23 years ago that I, an alcoholic college dropout, would end up with an undergraduate and graduate degree, working with students in a collegiate recovery program,” he says. “A life in recovery, without the use of alcohol and other drugs, is work, but it is worth it.”
Kennedy is the coordinator of Spartan Recovery at UNCG, an organization dedicated to creating a community of Spartans
— as UNCGeans call themselves — according to the organization webpage, who are in recovery or may be “sober curious.” The organization helps its members “to safely be their authentic selves as they find their way through academic life, while breaking down the stigma associated with mental health and substance use disorders through understanding and education.”
Part of recovery is speaking about the process and the changes it brings. It’s also listening to the stories of others as they’ve become better, more stable versions of themselves. So, this event — a live StorySLAM produced in conjunction with The Moth where members of Spartan Recovery can tell their stories without notes, outlines or rote memorization — falls squarely into 12-step methodology.
Since 1997, The Moth has helped launch many thousands of stories into the world, all told in person, through its radio broadcast on NPR, storytelling workshops, a book series and live events like this one. The idea came from its founder, novelist George Dawes Green, who wanted to formalize the practice of the extemporaneous storytelling like he remembered from the front porch of his boyhood Georgia home, where moths would flicker around the light as the tales were spun. Moth events hew loosely to a theme; this one is no different.
Not all the stories told on stage this night relate specifically to drugs or alcohol. But then, the disease touches everything in the lives of those who abuse them. And recovery is, at its root, about meaningful change.
“There has to be change,” says Amy Blumberg, an instructor from The Moth’s Education Program, from the stage. “The storyteller has to come out a little bit differently at the end. Or a lot differently.” These tenets form the basis of The Moth’s brand of storytelling. Blumberg and a couple other producers from The Moth worked with Spartan Recovery students through the weekend to get their narratives into shape for this final performance.
Blumberg tells the audience, about 50 people from the University community and beyond, that all stories must be true — “as remembered” — and about the storytellers themselves.
“We’re not fact-checkers,” she adds. “If they say it’s true, I believe them.”
So when, in her story, Trinity M. shares, “I was the only gay person I knew,” there are no doubts as to the veracity of her statement. Her coming-out tale begins with a childhood infatuation with Cinderella, drinking as a way of coping with her sexual identity crisis, her time as a “proud baby gay,” and the fellowship and strength she found at Spartan Recovery.
“I am Cinderella,” she finishes. “And Cinderella can get the girl, too.”
Not all stories center on recovery. Ella D. speaks about her complicated relationship with the color orange and how it changed over time. Brian N.’s opening lament, “I’m not good enough,” chronicles his path from community college dropout to UNCG master’s degree candidate. Bennett W. discloses an incident that happened to him during a hyper-competitive game of hide-and-seek. Marc R. reveals how his own insensitivity had wounded his best student, a trans man, and how the incident “showed me that I’m not the person I thought I was.” Queen R. remembers how her grandmother used to leave Post-it notes on the bathroom mirror for her to read while her grandma was at work. And Mike K. documents his path from a troubled youth who loved comics to a real-life hero as a scholar — and father.
Yes, real first names and last initials are being used in the printed program and on stage, as acknowledgement of the outward-facing nature of Spartan Recovery, although the practice goes against the traditions of some other recovery groups.
“The lack of anonymity is not a concession,” says Jennifer Whitney, director of Counseling and Psychological Services at UNCG. “Our members are living out loud, turning stigma on its head and giving a new name to recovery — one of dignity, achievement and pride.”
“There are many anonymous recovery programs in existence,” Kennedy says, “and they are so important. But ours is a program that is fighting the stigma associated with drug and alcohol addiction.”
Recovery features prominently in the story of Regan H., whose alcoholism coexisted with an abusive boyfriend before she fled to Holden Beach and met a woman at a fish market who changed her life.
John M.’s dark tale of pain — “I knew I had to die,” he begins — hews to the more traditional recovery narratives: living in his parents’ dark and windowless basement, a desire to live while pushing through thoughts of death and suicide, a cry for help.
“Now I’m seven years sober, and my life is amazing,” he finishes.
“So many windows.” OH
Spartan Recovery at UNCG is a program of Student Health Services Mental Health & Well-Being that is available, free of charge, to UNCG students in all phases of recovery from addictions to alcohol and/or other drugs. A version of this story is available at uncg.edu/news.
Before joining the UNCG University Communications staff, Brian Clarey spent 30 years in local news as a reporter, editor and publisher, most recently at Triad City Beat .
Travel back to long before online commerce was conceived
By Billy iNgR am
n 1987, the debut album and single by 15-year-old pop star Tiffany hit No.1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, making her the youngest artist to do so. What was truly remarkable was how she accomplished this feat. Industry insiders credited her performing in shopping malls around the country, the de facto town square of just about every city in America.
No nearly-forgotten phenomenon exemplified the halcyon days of the ’80s and ’90s like shopping malls. Those cavernous cauldrons of commercialism bubbled over in abundance, thanks to a booming economy and a populous stricken with consumption-itis. When primetime soaps like Dallas and Dynasty demonstrated that “Greed is Good” and those who die “with the most toys win,” malls were where you showed up to show out. So ingrained in daily life, you could purchase a ticket at a mall cineplex to watch a movie taking place in a shopping mall.
Greensboro’s first shopping mall was more than a decade in the making, dating back to 1961 when real estate speculator Joseph Koury publicly broke ground on a game-changing commercial and residential development with a staggering adjusted-forinflation price tag of half a billion dollars.
For the magnum opus, to compliment his newly-created collage of cul-de-sacs known as the Pinecroft neighborhood, Koury en-
gaged Leif Valand, modernist architect behind Cameron Village in Winston-Salem and Swann Middle School (then Charles B. Aycock Junior High) in Greensboro, to design a 1,000,000-squarefoot retail complex housing 95 businesses, to be anchored by three of the city’s most prestigious department stores: Belk, Thalhimers and Meyer’s, rebranded as Jordan Marsh. He called it Four Seasons Mall.
The city’s first climate-controlled shopping mall was an immediate success, with glass and reflective surfaces abounding, gleaming escalators transporting customers standing practically toe-totoe to a heavenly multitude of unfamiliar storefronts. Each step forward illuminated by a veritable Oz of vibrant logos, wondrous epicenters of excess exuding themselves in every direction, with laminated bricks circling central gathering spaces festooned with flourishing foliage, a brash but bewitching work of architectural wizardry this reimagining of Main Street USA was.
In addition to long-established local merchants such as PragoGuyes, Schiffman’s and Saslow’s Jewelers, Four Seasons assembled an impressive collection of national and regional clothing and accessories merchandisers, peddling wares almost exclusively influenced by what New York City fashionistas were cat-walking that year.
Catering to the ladies were Lerner Shops (stylish but affordable), Joseph R. Harris Co. (understated sophistication), Hofheimer’s shoes, Lillie Rubin (cocktail attire), Miller & Rhoads (high fashion out of Richmond, Va.), and Thom McAn (footwear). For the junior miss, Deb Shops, 5-7-9, Kaleidoscope, Brooks Fashions and Robins, catering to the pleated-skirt and high-waistedslacks set. For men’s attire, there was National Shirt Shop (in business downtown since 1932), Mitchell Tuxedo, Frankenberger’s (with a Charleston flair) and The Hub.
Stylish jeans and westerns shirts were stocked at Chess King, The Ranch, Just Pants and Wrangler’s Roost. Headquartered in Charlotte, Wrangler’s Roost had no apparent relationship to the Wrangler corporation, which might explain why they weren’t around for very long.
the base, which secured the several pound device. After slotting the customer’s BankAmericard into the mechanism, sales slip positioned on top, shop associates shoved a weighted rolling head over them, imprinting the receipt with the raised name and numbers from the card.
Four Seasons shoppers stopped for a quick nosh at Chickfil-A for their new 99-cent, saucy, pulled Chick-n-Q sandwich or Piccadilly Cafeteria. But the unparalleled Mr. Dunderbak’s Old World Market and Cafe served bottled Meister Bräu lager to wash down Deutschland reubens and kraut n’wursts. This was Cherry Hill, N.J.,’s idea of a Bavarian Beerhaus ― the Sopranos would have loved it there.
Record Bar proved to be Greensboro’s premier vinyl purveyor until Peaches Records opened a few years later farther down High Point Road. Paying for your purchases wherever you shopped generally meant having cash on hand. While Bank of America issued the first nationally accepted, general use charge cards in 1958, paying with plastic didn’t actually enter the mainstream before the early-1970s. One reason is that, without a male cosigner, women were ineligible to apply for any line of credit until 1974, which, coincidentally or not, coincided with the proliferation of shopping malls.
Accepting credit cards was time-consuming. Once handed over to the clerk, the card had to be cross-referenced against a weekly-updated booklet of stolen account numbers before a receipt, three carbon copies attached, was filled out by the salesperson detailing the item purchased and amount due. The clerk then retrieved the “Knuckle Buster” stored under the counter and stuck it on the surface with suction cups attached to
Four Seasons’ overwhelming allure prompted Friendly Shopping Center’s owner, Starmount Co., to construct its own enclosed retail complex. Anchored by Montaldo’s and conceived as a more upscale experience, Forum VI emerged in 1976 with 40 storefronts surrounding a distinctly moderne yet cozy courtyard flooded with oversized houseplants, all lit in soothing, golden tones. An elegant jewel box of predominantly local retailers that, for various reasons, never really caught on. Only the restaurants, Japanese steakhouse Kabuto and K&W Cafeteria, were consistently drawing crowds — but at hours not particularly advantageous to the mall’s interior tenants.
Debuting simultaneously was Carolina Circle Mall, by far that Bicentennial summer’s brightest retail star. With a reported $25-million price tag ($142.3 million in today’s dollars), “North Carolina’s Unique Shopping and Entertainment Wonderland” was located on the opposite end of town on what was formerly a 220-acre dairy farm bordering U.S. 29, 16th Street and Cone Boulevard.
As a teenager, I attended the grand opening in August of 1976. I’m kinda like a cat with an urge for exploring every aspect of my environment, but, unlike a cat, I left no scent behind at Carolina Circle. Thanks to its proximity to a nearby sewage treatment plant, a sickening stench was already permeating the air. On warm, breezy afternoons that putridity proved overpowering.
Undeterred, on opening day nearly 4,000 cars jammed the parking lot as UNCG students costumed as Alice in Wonderland characters greeted eager consumers inside. Most impressive was the ’70s futurist Montgomery Ward exterior accented with thousands of individual yellow, orange and red glazed tiles surrounding the entrance.
A disappointing number of outlets migrated over as well as duplicates of Four Seasons’ franchises including Belk, Piccadilly Cafeteria and the ever-present Chick-fil-A. Carolina Circle’s mazelike layout allowed for a more intimate feeling with smoked-glass
Four Seasons Mall in March of 1984
panels, dark-colored handrails and brown, terrazzo flooring.
While the overall effect was warm and fuzzy, the major attraction for many was the first floor Ice Chalet, Greensboro’s only skating rink. Surrounding that slick surface was a food court consisting of Orange Julius, Chick-fil-A and New York Pizza. Started by two Sicilian-Americans from New Jersey, Charles Sciabbarrasi and Ray Mascali, NYP made so much dough they quickly opened another pie hole on Tate Street. That’s still there while Mascali sells slices and pies at NY Pizza on Battleground.
Saturday Night Fever exploded across movie screens in December ’77, infecting the populace with disco fever. Urgent care for disco fever was The Current Event dance club at Carolina Circle, where underaged teenagers gyrated underneath a disco ball rotating on its axis, sending shards of light across its expansive orange, yellow and black under-lit dance floor and backlit pylon barriers. One lingering feverish side effect? An overwhelming desire for ”wild and crazy guys” to possess that white, polyester, three-piece suit John Travolta wore to seduce the nation — and Karen Lynn Gorney. J. Riggings sold them on the second floor, where they were, like every highly desirable item, literally chained and mini-padlocked to the display rack.
The city’s (possibly the state’s) first skateboard park opened along the eastern end of the parking lot, closest to the sewage plant. Those concrete bowls proved a popular spot for both teenagers and younger kids, despite required knee pads and helmets. That skate park was short-lived, as was the outdoor Hawaiian Surf Water Slide retired pro wrestler John Powers opened in 1978.
The proliferation of easily accessible credit cards in 1980s and ’90s ushered in an era of haute couture from designers Betsey Johnson, Donna Karan, Liz Claiborne, Tommy Hilfiger, Perry Ellis, Guess, Ralph Lauren and my favorite, Ton Sur Ton, found at Express, Gadzooks, Claire’s, Merry-Go-Round and Mervyn’s stores. And unless someone possessed a perfectly pear shaped rear end, no man or woman ever looked right in those impossibly tight
Jordache stonewashed jeans.
Sharper Image hawked high-tech gadgets no one knew they needed — computer bridge games, massaging chairs, Truth Seeker vocal stress detectors — with eye-popping price tags. Farrah Fawcett posters, cheap jewelry, infinity mirrors and goofy geegaws were Spencer Gifts’ oeuvre. Would it surprise you that they are behind those invasive pop-up Spirit Halloween shops?
Despite the hype, a requisite steady stream of shoppers never materialized for Carolina Circle. In 1986, the property was offloaded at a loss for $21 million. The new owner pumped an additional third of that investment into major renovations, including a spectacular pink, neon-like facade leading into a significantly brighter interior highlighted by enormous, pastelcolored butterflies, which hovered overhead, along with a new name, The Circle. On re-opening day, a choir resolutely standing center stage belted out the “Hallelujah Chorus,” but the resulting redux proved a resounding flop. Many a heart melted when the Ice Chalet was removed — too expensive they said — in favor of a $250,000 carousel decorated with Greensboro landmarks. The drain circling continued unabated.
Changing hands again for a mere $16 million in 1993, The Circle’s asking price was undoubtedly negatively affected by an incident that happened two years prior. A father, on an outing with his daughters, was gunned down outside of Montgomery Ward. The Greensboro Police Department establishing a satellite station inside the shopping center only served to solidify its seedy reputation.
Imagine my horror upon discovering around that same time that my 70-year-old mother was still frequenting The Circle’s Belk — which was hanging on by a thread, but one of the few retailers left due to rampant gang activity. I implored her to stop, but she liked the salespeople. After that conversation, I accompanied her whenever she shopped there.
Strolling the mall interior as she perused the racks, around
Four Seasons Mall in the 1980s
Interior of Four Seasons Cinema in November 1981
a third of the storefronts were darkened caves, even Great American Cookie Company was crumbling.
“If a terrorist came in and blew up the mall,” one demoralized merchant groused in 1996, “The headline would read, ‘Mall Blows Up, Nobody Injured.’” Well, there’d be my mom . . .
As a Hail Mary play, The Circle descended into an assemblage of storefront tabernacles alongside a fitness center before its 2006 date with the wrecking ball. Currently the site of a Walmart Superstore, the only physical remnant still standing is Montgomery Wards’ one-time tire-and-auto center on 16th Street.
In 2015, the scant remaining Forum VI retailers were unceremoniously evacuated for transforming the interior into an office complex. Kabuto objected; after almost 40 years, its hibachi hadn’t cooled. Determined to continue, its owners built a stand-alone pagoda on Stanley Street, where they still enjoy a bustling business today. The only remaining holdout at Forum VI is K&W Cafeteria, still serving up the same recipes, its mid-’70s dining-room decor perfectly preserved.
Out of curiosity, on a recent weekday afternoon I ventured out to Four Seasons Towne Centre. Employees outnumbered the zombie-like walkers in attendance, and blank wall installations covered over a depressing array of abandoned storefronts. The escalator wheezed, stuttered and clanked under the weight of my 150-pound frame, the sole passenger on its downward trajectory. Today’s star attraction appears to be the senses-shattering, potentially seizure-inducing bowling alley/arcade located in Jordan Marsh’s (later Ivey’s) voluminous former ground-floor entrance.
I asked friends born in the ‘80s and ’90s about their own mall memories. They didn’t have any. One remarked he had no need for the mall because he already had a girlfriend in high school. Perhaps this impression was because, sometime in the 2000s, the mall experience had devolved into a latchkey kids’ land of the lost, somewhat akin to a primitive dating app like Tinder, a convenient hookup venue where joy seekers simply slid left into Forever 21 when spying someone undesirable.
A pity shopping malls ultimately came to represent in-person purchasing’s very own Alamo, where retail desperados collectively mounted one final assault to squeeze the last possible dollar from antiquated business models they knew were totally unsuitable for the new frontier. Now, they’re a relic of our nation’s overwhelming desire for escaping into fortresses where ease of attainment meant atonement; momentarily, that is, until the creditors came calling. OH
During the summer of ’77, I, along with Catawba College classmate Cindi Rorie, embarked on a tour of shopping malls across three states, promoting the newly resuscitated Land of Oz amusement park, an offseason attraction created to augment Beech Mountain’s wintertime ski resort.
The park was an immersive experience where visitors entered through Dorothy’s immaculate clapboard farmhouse, then, after some tossing and tumult, exited the home, now shattered and collapsed, a pair of striped-socked, curled feet jutting from under its fractured frame. Attendees in tow, gingham-clad Dorothy Gale and her puppet, Toto, skipped merrily down the yellow-brick road spread out before them, meeting up with the Scarecrow, Tin Man and Cowardly Lion before being confronted by the Wicked Witch, cackling before her creepy castle. The culmination was a musical stage show before the ski lift, retrofitted to resemble hot air balloons, deposited guests back to the parking lot.
Meanwhile at malls in large cities and smaller towns, Cindi and I, outfitted as Dorothy and the Scarecrow, spent three days each staging a puppet show before greeting the kiddos, who loved interacting with those beloved MGM musical characters come to life.
After months spent inside shopping malls, it became appallingly apparent they were all virtually identical. The cumulative effect of prolonged bathing in fluorescents left me lethargic, eyes wincing in sunlight. Inside those vacuum-sealed sepultures of filthy lucre I cast no shadow. No one did. My bronze-adjacent skin tone adopted a purplish hue, forcing me to consult a mirror to determine whether I had veered into vampirism. When the tour ended, following a week buried in bed, I yanked a turnip out of the ground before swearing never to set foot in another of those airless, ticky-tacky boxes for as long as I lived. Came damn close to keeping that promise.
Many of the area malls where we performed in 1977 are longsince abandoned, demolished or repurposed — Signal Hill in Statesville, Westchester in High Point; Holly Hill in Burlington; even the state’s largest in the 1970s, Charlotte’s Eastland Mall.
While it’s true Dorothy and Scarecrow’s shopping-mall whirlwind was instrumental in boosting attendance for the amusement park, no magic wand existed for rescuing the long-suffering Land of Oz. Failing to flutter over that elusive, financially viable rainbow, Oz closed its imposing emerald painted gates in 1980, a sizable partition of that attraction given over to a housing development where residents no doubt share a common sentiment: “There’s no place like home.”
And before long, one suspects, no place like those shopping malls.
Kuyathi
A potter spins her story in a backyard studio
By Cassie Bustama Nte
PHotogR aPHy By a my fReema N
Mrunalini Ranganathan sits on a rust-orange loveseat in her backyard pottery studio, where golden afternoon sunlight casts tree-shaped shadows onto its blue exterior. Her name, she notes, is difficult for American English speakers to pronounce, so she often tells people to simply call her Miru. Her native Indian language derives from one of the longest surviving classical languages in the world, Tamil, which she uses in the center of her Lotus Stalks Pottery logo. “The four letters in the middle, they spell out ‘kuyathi,’” says Miru, “and I am so proud that I come from a civilization that had a word to say ‘female potter.’”
And the name Lotus Stalks Pottery? That comes from her own name. “Mrunal is one stalk. Mrunalini makes it plural, meaning a bunch of lotus stalks,” she explains.
While “kuyathi” has ancient origins, Miru, 49, has only been behind the pottery wheel for 13 years. Glancing around her studio, its shelves lined with stunning and intricately detailed earthenware, you wouldn’t know it. Born in Southern India where the highly structured class system regulates who can do what, she never imagined she’d ever have the opportunity to dip her hands into wet clay, let alone become a potter. “I don’t belong to the potter family,” she notes, “and in India, as you know, the caste system is so well defined. Sadly, you look down upon [potters].”
Her parents were both highly educated, as was her sister, who’s 14 years her senior and the one who came up with the name Mrunalini. Miru followed suit, never questioning her place and eventually working in the field of science as a lab manager and research biologist. “You go into school, you finish your schooling, then you go into college, become a professional of some sort,” says Miru. “If you’re a woman, of course, get married, have children and that’s it — your life is done.”
Even though it felt out of reach, she recalls, “I was always fascinated by the potter’s wheel.” In India, it is wooden and as large as as a bull cart wheel, with spokes and a hole in the outer rim. The potter inserts a big stick to spin it as fast as possible, then throws the clay and yields two pots before it’s slowed to a stop. “I would be like, oh . . . my . . . God.”
While becoming an artist wasn’t their wish for their daughter, Miru’s parents nurtured her interest and enrolled her in art classes from third to fifth grade, only stopping when her father retired and the family relocated. Her mother also influenced her interest in gardening, which is evident in the natural oasis surrounding her studio. “I was always following her around and around the house, talking to flowers and buds and wondering who was going to open up tomorrow,” she recalls. In fact, she often scratched her creative itch by pressing flowers and making greeting cards. Eventually, art fell to the wayside as Miru followed the expected path. She holds a master’s in biology from Duquesne University, is married to an infectious disease doctor, Balaji Desai, and has two children. Mahinda graduated from Grimsley earlier this year, where he was on the drum line, and just started his first year at the University of Washington in Seattle. Sanga is in her sophomore year at Grimsley and plays on the girls varsity soccer team.
But before calling the Triad home, the family bounced around — from Balaji’s residency at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center to his fellowship at SUNY Upstate Medical University. “The cold north,” Miru quips of Syracuse, N.Y. “People are cold, the place is cold.” It was a stark difference to the hottest part of India. Plus, throughout her husband’s career development — residency, fellowship, preparing for his four United States Medical Licensing Examinations (USMLE), submitting applications and going through rounds of interviews — Miru continued working to support the young family. “It was a lot,” she says.
After two years in Syracuse, Balaji was ready to pursue work with a practice and settle. The family had one major requirement
for their future hometown: The sunshine had to be plentiful. Balaji “matched” — that’s when a practice you want also wants you — with a practice in Danville, Va. Narrowing their search to within a 45-minute radius of Balaji’s new job, the family discovered Greensboro, which featured another checklist item, a Montessori school. The Gate City, she notes, “took us by surprise.”
In September 2012, after eight moves since immigrating to the U.S., the family finally put down roots in a brick, traditional home in Summerfield. Miru, done, at last, with what she calls a “rat race,” was able to catch her breath. “I suddenly felt like, now I really can step into what I have been missing in this life,” she says.
And that was art — to be exact, an art form that dates back to
at least 28,000 B.C. “Clay is probably the oldest material that was used by humankind across the globe and still is relevant,” Miru muses. “How many things can you say that about?”
She registered for her first pottery class in October 2012, an evening class at Art Alliance. Turns out, mornings were better for her family’s lifestyle and she soon swapped to a Thursday morning class, where she found more than clay and creativity — she found community. To this day, her Thursday morning crew remains a circle of friends. “It’s like an alma mater for me, Art Alliance.”
Her first teacher, L.T. Hoisington, who has been an Art Alliance instructor for almost 20 years, is one of the most gentle souls she’s encountered. Plus, she notes, he is the only person of
non-Indian origin who calls her by her first name, challenging because of the way the “R” rolls and is immediately followed by a cupped-tongue “U” sound. “He took time to practice it.” She also studied under Leanne Pizio, known locally for her vibrant, folk-art style pieces.
An Art Alliance comrade — “Fireman Bob, that’s what we called him” — taught Miru how to fire pots at home over a fire pit. His nickname, she notes, comes from his job as a fireman, not his technique. As soon as he demonstrated his process, she knew, “I have found what talks to me.” Now, a couple of metal barrels dot her own backyard.
On the shelves inside her studio sit the very pots she fired that day, which she’ll never sell. “They are so near and dear to me.” The pit-firing process is a delicate balance compared to the kiln and Miru says of all the pieces she puts over an open flame, about 70% survive. The finished look is worth the risk, earthy and unique, mottled in dark, ashen colors.
Seeing his wife blossom in her newfound passion, Balaji had been persistently asking if she wanted her own wheel, almost from the beginning. Her response never changed: “No, not yet. I don’t think I can throw well enough.”
Four years in, he stopped asking, surprising her with her own wheel. The family added a small, backyard shed to house it, which allowed her to shape and prepare pieces for firing right at home.
But the real turning point came in 2018, when Art Alliance launched a short-lived independent study program. An artist was given a time frame, a mentor and a material budget to focus on a singular concept. Miru had recently discovered terra sigillata, a thin, clay solution not to be confused with glaze, and centered her independent study around it. Patrick Rowe, “a kind-hearted, genuine human who wants you to succeed,” served as her mentor. That four-month program gave her the confidence to set off in her own artistic direction.
Her second surprise came in December 2019 when Balaji gave his wife a kiln for Christmas. She recalls squealing with joy, but it was short lived because, two days later, her father suffered a heart attack. Miru rushed to India, but didn’t make it in time to say good-bye. When she returned home, the kiln sat in their garage while she sat on the couch. “I would be blank,” she says.
She gave herself time to grieve and process her loss, slowly tiptoeing her way back to clay at home rather than in a class setting, skipping out on registering for the first time in seven years. And, of course, that spring, COVID happened. That kiln she’d gotten for Christmas made its way to the small backyard shed, where she put it to use beginning in the summer of 2020. “I would have gone crazy otherwise,” she quips.
Clay has become the antidote to nights “when I can’t sleep — perimenopause!” That’s when she fantasizes about her pottery, creating pieces in her mind before she gets to the wheel. “Sometimes it works, sometimes there is something else going on inside my head and the energy that is flowing through my hands is like, mmm-nnnn, not going to work there.”
Other things can go wrong, too. But, she says, “I have
learned to take failures as learning experiences to better that process and see if I can make something even better.”
Case in point, Balaji put in a request for a bird bath — a large bird bath. After all, the couple enjoys backyard birdwatching and gardening. It took Miru a week just to cut all of the pieces. When it came time to flip it, she needed her husband’s help, but before she could get out the words, “Don’t do it like this,” he did it just like that, and, crrrrrrrrck
Now the pieces sit in a large bucket, waiting.
With her kiln and new-found techniques, it wasn’t long before her backyard shed began to feel a little cramped. COVID still rampant, the couple decided to hire immigrant workers, who, she says, “were having a very tough time,” to frame the skeleton of what now serves as her studio. It sits adjacent to the original shed, where her kiln remains.
Once the studio’s shell was in place, the family of four worked together when they had spare time, installing flooring, shiplap walls, a wooden ceiling and shelving, and, of course, painting the blue exterior. From start to finish, it took them
two-and-a-half years, working around the kids’ practice schedules and work schedules.
Miru sourced every part of her studio with the intention of keeping it as local as possible. Antique porcelain lampshades that hang pendant-style from the ceiling were collected over time and taken to a local craftsman, who sandblasted and painted them. The planks used for the ceiling and walls still emit the soft, earthy scent of pine. “This is not Home Depot or Lowe’s,” Miru says, waving her hand toward her walls. “This is from two guys who sell lumber that is discarded because it’s crooked or not up to the mark or something.”
On one wall, framed winter woodland photos of wild animals stand out in snowy contrast against the warmth of knotty pine. “All from Yellowstone,” says Miru. Turns out the motor home parked in their driveway rolls out west almost every year. “We’re avid Yellowstoners,” she says.
The photographer? Balaji. “He has an eye, I should say,” Miru says proudly of her husband. “You might think I am the artistic kind, but I stop with the surface of the clay.”
In fact, Balaji is responsible for the studio design. He’s selected the furnishings and decor, including a blue, vintage typewriter and a couple old, metal-and-wood schoolhouse chairs. He even artfully arranges Miru’s pottery to show off her collections to shoppers.
When Miru has peddled her wares at local art shows, such as ArtStock and Art in the Arboretum, Balaji has been the one to curate her setup. But, she notes, it’s a family affair. “It takes the whole village” when it comes to packing, unpacking, popping up a tent and manning the booth all day.
While she has plans to participate in this month’s Made 4 Market at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market and Creative Clay Works at Revolution Mill, she says that doing shows has become “an energy sucker.” She’s more than happy to open her backyard studio doors and welcome people to “just come over, take a look, feel it, pick it up, look at it, fall in love.” Earlier this year, she even hosted her very first Mother’s Day sale.
Since stepping into that first Art Alliance class, much has changed. She’s grown much more confident, but admits that self doubt can still creep in at times. When it does, she reminds her-
self to trust her instincts: “Make it for yourself,” she tells herself. “You’re not doing this for others.”
And she’s shifted away from taking classes. “Maybe one or two workshops with certain potters, but, other than that, it has just been me practicing and trying to bring out my own style.”
These days, her pottery is the culmination of everything she’s learned as well as where she comes from, combining kiln firing, terra sigillata, pit firing and, often times, a slip-trailed pattern.
“What makes me the happiest is adding texture,” she says, dressed in a deep indigo block-print dress, flecked in a raspberrycolored pattern that mimics the designs she meticulously creates by hand. The slip-trail process itself can take hours, coaxing cream-cheese-consistency clay out of a squeeze bottle’s tiny tip. The lengthy process reminds her of the ancient Indian art of henna, still used today.
But clay has taught her patience. She’s learned to go with the flow. “Don’t control it — let it control you.” And don’t ever sit at your wheel frustrated. “Don’t put that energy into your clay. Then it won’t work for you — you’re making it sad.” OH
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.
ALMANAC November
By a sHley walsHe
November is the mother of quiet wonders. Rainbows in spider silk. Wood ducks, migrating by moonlight. The slow-beating heart of a box turtle in brumation.
She gives and gives, offering her final mild days, her cool-season greens, the last of her berries, nuts and seeds.
But
there is always a November space after the leaves have fallen when she felt it was almost indecent to intrude on the woods . . .
—
L.M. Montgomery, Anne of the Windy Poplars
“Eat up,” she says to the wild ones. “There’s plenty here to go around.”
Bird and squirrel delight in her sweet and earthy fruit. Fox and deer, too. A feathery frost gilds mottled oak leaves on the first frigid morning.
When weary spider spins her silken sac, a cradle for a thousand eggs, the mother leans in close.
“Go now,” she whispers to the weaver. “Your work is done. Your babes shall know the tender kiss of spring.”
Wren song rings through chilly air. The last colored leaves gleam like stained glass in a light-filled cathedral. The altar remains blessed with beautyberries, acorns, persimmons and rosehips.
“Nourish yourself well,” the mother commands, folding moldy fruit and spoiled nuts into her wombdark soil, where even the dead leaves are precious.
“I can use this,” she murmurs of what’s gone to rot. “Nothing will be wasted.”
Deciduous trees drift toward dormancy. Black snakes seek out burrows. Wood frogs prepare to freeze solid.
By and by, the great mother readies herself for winter’s deep, long sleep.
Surrendering her beauty back to the hard, damp earth, she strips away all she has to give: a humble banquet for the wild ones; what precious light remains; a bouquet of blessings in the name of quiet wonder.
Inner Peace Casserole
A no-fuss recipe you’ll return to again and again. Simple, nourishing and gentle on the system, this soothing side dish is an unexpected crowd-pleaser at the most dynamic of family gatherings — and a treat the day after, too.
Prep and cook time: n/a
Yield: immeasurable
Ingredients
6 bushels of gratitude
3 pecks of grace
1 heaping cup of humor
4 dollops of kindness
1 pinch of forgiveness
Directions
1 dash of compassion
A dusting of birdsong
A breath of fresh air
Sunshine (if available)
Combine all ingredients. Stir and breathe slowly. Break for a kitchen dance party. Repeat.
Note: Modify ingredients to your taste. Sprinkle in some new ones. Leave out what doesn’t serve you. Make this recipe your own.
Do the Mashed Potato
If one plans to mash potatoes for the Thanksgiving masses, one knows they must double the batch. But does one have a plan for that whopping load of leftovers?
Three words: mashed potato pancakes.
If you haven’t tried them (there are several recipes available online), do yourself a favor and whip out the skillet. This isn’t a maple syrup-type situation. Think sour cream and chives. Think breakfast, lunch or dinner. Think no further.
You’ll thank yourself for mashing the extra mile. Especially if the fam is still visiting. OH
MISSION S TATEMEN T
Noble Academy empowers st udent s w ith lear ning differences to pursue their highest potential w ithin a comprehensive, suppor tive educational env ironment.
W H Y W E M ATTE R
We develop self- advocac y skills. We develop reading and math confidence We bring back a st udent’s love for lear ning.
HO W TO DON AT E
Donations are received at our website, www.noblek night s.org or directly at Noble Academy to the attention of Director of Development
W HO W E SE R V E
St udent s in g rades 2-12 w ith a primar y diagnosis of ADHD and lear ning disabilities or primarily experiences difficulties w ith at tention, processing speed or memor y, auditor y processing, executive f unctioning, reading, math, or w riting, and academic fluenc y, who match our admission criteria
KE Y FA CT S
• 8:1 st udent/teacher ratio
• 100% g raduation rate
• 1/3 of families receive t uition assist ance or g rant s/scholarships from NCSEA A
• Accreditations from SAIS, IDA, COGNI A, and a Wilson® Accredited Partner
Triad Golden Retriever Rescue (TGRR) is a non-profit, all-volunteer organization dedicated to the rescue, rehabilitation, humane treatment and placement of homeless Golden Retrievers, and to the education of the public about the breed. MISSION STATEMENT
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
https://tgrr.org/volunteer-opportunities/
HOW TO DONATE
https://tgrr.org/donate
The Triad area of North Carolina (Greensboro, Highpoint, and Winston-Salem) WHO WE SERVE
KEY FACTS
Our team prides themselves on providing the best care and finding the best fit so our dogs can live a fulfilled and loving life.
MISSION STATEMENT
Our mission is to rescue, rehabilitate and rehome animals of all shapes and sizes from horses to hamsters, including dogs and cats by utilizing a network of foster homes!
HOW TO DONATE
To donate, foster or volunteer, please visit our website at reddogfarm. com. There you will find foster, volunteer, and adoption applications plus a wishlist of needed items. Monetary donations can be made through our website or by sending a check. Thank you!
KEY FACTS
• Being privately funded and foster based, any donation of time or resources helps!
MISSION S TATEMEN T
Our mission is to promote env ironment al awareness, conser vation and pollution prevention; to speak as a voice for the river in the public arena; and to put into peoples’ hands the tools and the k nowledge they need to be effective guardians of the river. Our Haw Riverkeeper advocates for clean water and against threat s to the river
HO W TO V OL U NTEE R
Visit our event s page and find all the oppor t unities to engage! ht t ps ://www.haw river.org/event s
HO W TO DON AT E
W hen someone donates, they become a suppor ting member of HR A! ht t ps ://www.haw river.org/donate
143 Bynum Church Rd. Bynum, NC 27228 919-542-5790
www.hawriver.org
Established 1982
W HO W E SE R V E
Ever yone in the Haw River Watershed, protecting clean water access for over 1 million Nor th Carolinians
KE Y FA CT S
Founded 1982 • Official Haw Riverkeeper Organization • 500+ volunteers • Protect s 920 miles of st reams, 110 miles of river, and 14,000- acre Jordan L ake across 8 counties • Won landmark PFA S set tlement s and host s the Haw River L ear ning Celebration, over 35 years of t ur ning the river into an outdoor cla ssroom for 4th g raders
WAY S TO GET INVO LV E D
Official Haw Riverkeeper Organization • 500+ volunteers • Protect s 920 miles of st reams, 110 miles of river, and 14,000- acre Jordan L ake across 8 counties • Won landmark PFA S set tlement s • Host s the Haw River L ear ning Celebration; 35+ years prov iding 4th g rade env ironment al education.
We build thriving communities by protecting and renewing our historic and architectural treasures.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
Call our office 336-272-5003 or visit our website https://preservationgreensboro.org
HOW TO DONATE
Visit our website at https://www.preservationgreensboro.org/ donate
WHO WE SERVE
Guilford County
Since 1966, Preservation Greensboro has worked to preserve historic sites, neighborhoods, and streetscapes to create a unique sense of history and place. We provide resources to enhance Greensboro’s distinctive heritage and help the community maintain a tradition of adaptive reuse, renovation, and recycling.
We invite you to tour historic Blandwood, rent the Carriage House for your next event, and shop Architectural Salvage of Greensboro for vintage housewares and hardware.
MISSION STATEMENT
To promote the right of every child to a permanent, safe, and loving family.
Children and families in all 100 North Carolina counties in need of foster care, adoption, family preservation, and education services so that children can thrive. CHS helped more than 21,000+ clients last year, with a statewide staff and offices in 9 cities across North Carolina.
KEY FACTS
• Since our founding in 1902, CHS has placed more than 16,500+ children with nurturing adoptive families.
• We help parents be the best that they can be by providing critical tools and resources for them to build stronger families. Whether that means doing what ever we can to keep families intact and healthy, or finding the right match to create new ones through foster care and adoption.
ThisadmadepossiblebyTruliantFederalCreditUnion.
November is National Adoption Month. Please consider fostering, adopting, or just learning more at chsnc.org.
MISSION STATEMENT
Our mission is to provide support, education, and caring connections to those who have a child with a disability, special healthcare needs, or who have experienced a NICU stay. We envision every child having a thriving family and are committed to fostering an inclusive, diverse, and equitable community.
WAYS TO HELP
Donate money, baby supplies, or your time—check out other ways to give at fsncc.org
See how we’re changing health care for the better at conehealth.com
1200 N Elm Street Greensboro, NC 27401 336-832-6507 www.fsncc.org support@fsncc.org
WHO WE SERVE
Families experiencing a NICU stay and families raising children with disabilities or special healthcare needs in Guilford and surrounding counties.
KEY FACTS
• NICU families receive Family Navigation, bedside peer support, admission bags, weekly groups, parent mentors, and essential supplies. Through Books for Babies, families also receive hundreds of board books each year to promote early literacy.
• Our Disability Support Program helps families through parent support groups, Sibshops, one-on-one parent mentor matching, resources, and community events.
• Family engagement events — such as parent lunches, sibling activities, and monthly meet-ups — offer opportunities each year for parents, siblings, and caregivers to connect in community.
• UNITE Greensboro Festival is our free annual event at LeBauer Park, with resource providers, live entertainment, and activities for familie
7427 Matthews Mint Hill Rd STE 105-167 Mint Hill, NC 28227 www.carolinaboxerrescue.org
MISSION STATEMENT
To balance the health, safety, and welfare needs of Boxers in the Carolinas, Virginia, and parts of GA by providing a loving and safe environment for stray, abused, impounded and owner surrendered dogs by placing them in foster homes and ultimately – forever homes.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
If you are interested in volunteering with Carolina Boxer Rescue, you can fill out an application on our website https://carolinaboxerrescue.org/volunteer-form/
HOW TO DONATE
We have multiple ways of donating. You can do so through Venmo @carolinaboxerrescue25 via Paypal https://www.paypal.biz/carolinaboxerrescue, by check, 7427 Matthews Mint Hill Rd, STE 105-167, Mint Hill, NC 28227
KEY FACTS
Carolina Boxer Rescue is a 100% volunteer-run 501c3 organization that is completely foster-based. The rescue has been saving boxers since 2001. In that time, the organization has saved over 6,000 boxers. Carolina Boxer Rescue has over 200 volunteers.
MISSION STATEMENT
Vintage Fur increases the success rate of senior dog adoption by providing veterinary sponsorships for adoptable senior rescue dogs in the North Carolina Triad.
HOW TO DONATE
We accept donations at www.vintagefur.org/donate or through Venmo @VintageFur
KEY FACTS
Vintage Fur is a volunteer only 501(c)3 started in 2024 and was the recipient of a Gray Muzzle grant in our first year of operation. Senior dogs are often overlooked despite having lots of love left to share! View our adorable sponsored doggums and success stories at VintageFur.org
November is Senior Pet Awareness Month!
MISSION STATEMENT
Our mission statement is “Turning Entrepreneurs into Business Owners”. We teach entrepreneurs and small business owners how to monetize their ideas into successful and sustainable businesses.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
We utilize SCORE volunteers to assist our Associates and entrepreneurs with their start up needs. To volunteer go to https://www.score.org/volunteer.
HOW TO DONATE
Donations can be made through our website. https://nussbaumcfe.com/donate/
1451 S Elm-Eugene St, Greensboro, NC 27406
336.379.5001
www.nussbaumcfe.com
Established 1987
WHO WE SERVE
The Nussbaum Center for Entrepreneurship (NCFE) operates a small business incubator that supports early-stage businesses by offering flexible office, kitchen, and manufacturing spaces. NCFE focuses on empowering entrepreneurs and small business owners to achieve success, promote economic mobility, and create high-paying job opportunities. The organization measures its impact through client outcomes such as job creation, wealth building, and the advancement of long-term business sustainability.
KEY FACTS
• Served 3,451 small businesses in 2024
• 10 local, regional, state and federally funded Agencies to assist start-ups and small businesses
• Shared-use commercial kitchen available for hourly rental
• Manufacturing and Warehouse space in newly renovated Steelhouse
A FRESH APPROACH TO JANITORIAL SERVICES
American Building Services, Inc. (ABS) is a Commercial Janitorial Company that specializes in cleaning multi-story office buildings. Current Customers include commercial office, medical office, industrial, and manufacturing. We also have a division that offers Post Construction cleaning and General Trades for Commercial General Contractors. Our team has the expertise of a national company and the personal touch of a local company. If there is a problem there will be no excuses - we will fix it and work hard so that it won’t happen again. ABS is minority owned and HUB certified. Please reach out if you are in need of a quote for any commercial janitorial related services.
MISSION STATEMENT
We help students find their pathways to college and beyond with confidence by providing free, comprehensive guidance in the college search, test prep, application, and financial aid processes as well as ongoing mentoring and support.
HOW TO DONATE
Support our mission by giving online at www.cptriad.org/support, through Venmo at @cptriad or by sending a donation to the address above. Your gifts will support program components like group and individual advising and test prep, overnight college tours, or professional business attire for interviews.
111 Bain Street #355, Greensboro, NC 27406 704-819-5630
www.cptriad.org harsha@cptriad.org
Established 2022
WHO WE SERVE
We prioritize first-generation college students and students from low-income families and underrepresented backgrounds in our recruiting and selection processes. Our current senior class of 45 students represents 16 different local high schools.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
Sign up for our job shadowing and career exploration program! We pair our scholars with local professionals to allow them to learn firsthand about different career paths and potential fields of study.
KEY FACTS
• The average public school student receives only 38 minutes of college counseling support annually, while a College Pathways scholar has access to over 100 hours of group and individual support from expert counselors and test prep instructors.
• Our 25 students in the class of 2025 earned 129 college acceptances and over $5 million in scholarships. Seven are attending college with a scholarship of full tuition or more!
This holiday season, you can help ensure every neighbor has food on the table and the chance to thrive.
MISSION STATEMENT
Increase food security and create pathways to build a stronger region.
VOLUNTEER WITH US
Whether you sort food, prepare meals, tend our teaching garden, or lend a hand in the office, you’ll make a meaningful difference in neighbors’ lives.
Every $10 you give helps provide 60 meals.
JOIN OUR COMMUNITY OF HELPERS
Second Harvest serves as an essential source of food for a network of 500 food assistance programs; supports individual and community health; provides pathways to employment through job training; and advocates for policies that lift North Carolina families.
WHY YOUR SUPPORT MATTERS
• Food is the foundation for a healthy, thriving community.
• More families than ever are turning to Second Harvest for help.
During the holidays—and all year long—your gifts of time, food, and funds bring hope, health, and opportunity to our neighbors. Donate and learn how to get involved at SecondHarvestNWNC.org.
Thisadmadepossiblebyananonymoussponsor.
info@doxiebyproxy.org www.doxiebyproxy.org
Established 2019
MISSION STATEMENT
We are a foster home based rescue accepting shelter intakes and owner surrenders from NC. We try to counsel and offer advice to owners considering surrendering their dachshund as a way of keeping pets in loving homes to prevent the burden on rescue.
HOW TO DONATE
We accept donations in the following ways: Venmo - @DBPRInc • PayPal - info@doxiebyproxy.org
Mailing Address: PO Box 9671, Greensboro, NC 27429-9671 Facebook Donations
KEY FACTS
• We have rescued and placed 1320 dogs since 2019
• Average cost for medical care on each rescue dog is $1,200
As a private, limited-admission shelter, we save homeless animals and support the people who love them. Through rescue and caring, free and low-cost programs and services, and community engagement, we help pets and their people thrive together.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
Not All Heroes Wear Capes & Tights, Some Carry Leashes & Poop Bags! Learn more about our volunteer program at triadspca.org/ volunteer. We allow families to volunteer together!
HOW TO DONATE
Every gift saves lives—donate online (credit card, PayPal, Apple Pay), Venmo @spca_of_the_triad, send supplies from our Wish List, or make your love for animals last forever with a DAF or estate gift.
KEY FACTS
• 31+ years as rescue with shelter helping pets in this community
• Post adoption support, low-cost vaccines, pet food bank & more
• Big news: new shelter facility + low-cost clinic coming soon!
www.mbcmuseum.com comeplay@mbcmuseum.com
MISSION STATEMENT
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
We are currently working on a volunteer program to launch in the Winter. Stay tuned!
https://mbcmuseum.com/donate/ or contact Stephanie Clifford: sclifford@gcmuseum.com 336-574-2898 extension 313
WHO WE SERVE
• 20+ interactive exhibits
• Outdoor Play Plaza with 30-ft climbers
• Edible Schoolyard garden & kitchen classroom
• Indoor Water Wonders exhibit
MISSION S TATEMEN T
Making disciples who ser ve, g row, and go!
OUR VAL U E S
Gospel-centered worship • Fer vent prayer
Multigenerational fellowship
Intentional discipleship • Ser v ice in minist r y
Missional Liv ing
Established 1860 2300 Scalesville Rd, Summerfield, NC 27358 336.643.6383 www.summerfieldfbc.com
W HO W E SE R V E
By God’s g race we st rive to be a multigenerational, gospel-centered, disciple -making church family reaching Summerfield and beyond for the cause of Christ We actively ser ve our communit y through our food pant r y, school par t nerships, ser v ing meals to those in need, building ramps for those needing handicap home accessibilit y and other ways. Our multigenerational minist ries ser ve all ages including children, youth, adult s, and senior adult s
PLE A SE JOIN U S T O
Worship on Sunday mor nings at 9:00am or 10:45am.
1514 N. Church St. Greensboro, NC 27405
336.275.HOME (4663)
greensborofirefoundation.org
Established 2025
Our mission is to enhance the well-being of the Greensboro FireFighters Foundation members by fostering a culture of recognition, strengthening community engagement, and promoting physical and mental health. MISSION STATEMENT
Call 336-574-4093 HOW TO VOLUNTEER
HOW TO DONATE
Visit our website a select “donate”
WHO WE SERVE
The Greensboro FireFighters Foundation aims to support and enhance the Greensboro Fire Department’s capacity to maintain operational excellence, deliver impactful fire and life safety programs to the community, and ensure that personnel have access to the highest-quality training, equipment, and wellness resources. By securing necessary funds, the Foundation enables the department to continue its legacy of excellence in service and safety for all citizens of Greensboro.
KEY FACTS
The Foundation is providing the Greensboro Fire Department support in three critical ways:
The P.O.W.E.R Of Play Foundation is a 501 c (3) organization. We want to provide financial assistance to at-risk children in the Triad and throughout North Carolina. We serve these children through scholarships, programming, sports leagues, after school/summer care, Christmas gifts, etc. We believe every child deserves to grow and develop in a safe and loving environment, whether that means spending time at Proehlific Park or with another non-profit in North
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
To volunteer you can reach out to Natasha Hilburn at foundation@proehlificpark.com.
HOW TO DONATE
Please go to our website at www.proehlificpark.com under the Our Foundation tab to donate.
WHO WE SERVE
We serve school age children from the ages of kindergarten to middle school for our after school and summer care. We also serve over 300 foster children each Christmas with Christmas gifts.
KEY FACTS
• Our Trunk or Treat will be held on Thursday, October 30th from 5:00-7:00pm.
• The P.O.W.E.R Of Play Foundation supplies Christmas gifts for over 300 children each year in our Santa’s Helpers program. Mentoring, sports programs, and most importantly financial assistance for after school and summer care for youth in our community ranging in age from kindergarten through middle school. Santa’s Helpers/Gia private event will be held on Friday, November 7th from 6:30-10:00pm. Tickets and sponsorships still available. Go to the website for information.
SANTA’S HELPERS
Please consider being a part of something bigger than yourself this Christmas by blessing local foster children. The POWER of Play helps these children have gifts Christmas morning because of people like you. Wish lists can be picked up the week of November 5th, and all gifts need to be delivered to Natasha Hilburn no later than November 26th, unwrapped with the wish list attached.
| www.proehlificpark.com
MISSION STATEMENT
Seeking to put God’s love into action, Habitat for Humanity brings people together to build homes, communities, and hope.
HOW TO VOLUNTEER
Volunteers are at the heart of each Habitat home. Every volunteer helps families build a foundation for a brighter future. For more information and to register to volunteer, please visit: HabitatGreensboro.org/ volunteer
HOW TO DONATE
Every donation helps build safe, stable, and affordable housing. Donate securely online at: HabitatGreensboro.org/give
WHO WE SERVE
Habitat Greensboro works toward our vision of a world where everyone has a safe and affordable place to live. Families with low-income, who have a demon-strated need, an ability to pay an affordable mortgage, and a willingness, partner with Habitat Greensboro to achieve the strength, stability, and self-reliance they need to build better lives for themselves and their children.
KEY FACTS
• Since 1987, Habitat Greensboro has helped nearly 550 families in Greensboro achieve their dream of homeownership.
• Habitat Greensboro has been instrumental in the development of over $51,500,000 in taxable home value to the local community.
• The current equity of Habitat Greensboro homeowners is more than $38,000,000.
The
safe, quality housing good jobs
safe, quality housing good jobs
visual and performing arts
visual and performing arts
healthy meals
healthy meals
clean parks
clean parks
accessible healthcare
accessible healthcare
apprenticeships
apprenticeships
disaster relief
disaster relief
senior
senior
Learn
Learn
UNITED IS THE WAY
When Jerome Davis turned to United Way of Greater Greensboro, he was working hard but struggling to find reliable transportation and a steady, well-paying career. Through the Family Success Center, he found mentorship, a path forward, and the confidence to build a better future for his daughter.
Together with partners across the city, we’re pursuing a Bold Goal — to move 3,000 households beyond poverty by 2030 through education, career guidance, and health resources. We’re ahead of pace, but continued progress depends on you.
November 2025
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!
November 1–30
MAKING CONNECTIONS. This installation of works from the Weatherspoon’s attic showcases the gallery as an academic museum with abiding connections to its campus, Greensboro and broader communities. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/exhibitions/ current-exhibitions.
CONSTANT/CHANGE. Explore the works of eight emerging North Carolina artists in this juried exhibition. Free. GreenHill Center for NC Art, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc.org/exhibitions.
PATTERN RECOGNITION. Explore the power of pattern in this exhibit featuring works from the Weatherspoon collection. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/ exhibitions/current-exhibitions.
November 1–29
FIGHTERS FOR FREEDOM. Peruse paintings by Harlem Renaissance artist William H. Johnson created to pay tribute to African American activists. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/exhibitions/current-exhibitions.
November 1–8
TARA THACKER. Stroll through the artist’s 2D and 3D creations fabricated using ceramics and mixed media, on display in the brand-new Betty and Benjamin Cone Jr. Alcove Gallery. Free. GreenHill Center for NC Art, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc.org/ exhibitions.
November 1 & 2
ROUGH MAGIC. Times vary. This play, produced and performed by UNCG theater students, answers the question, “What happens when Shakespeare collides with superheroes in the heart of the Big Apple.” Tickets: $5.49+. Sprinkle Theatre, 402 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: vpa.uncg.edu/events.
CEMETERY STROLL. 10–11 a.m., Saturday; 2–4 p.m., Sunday. Share your grave concerns in a walking tour, “The Plants and the Planted,” led by Friends of Green Hill Cemetery. Tickets: $5, cash only; no reservations required. Green Hill Cemetery, Wharton Street, Greensboro.
Film: The Outsiders
Saturday, November 8 • 7 p.m. LeBauer Park
Info: friendsofgreenhillcemetery.org/tours.
November 1, 8, 22
LIVE MUSIC. 6:30 p.m. Enjoy live music from an array of artists including Rusted Luck, Bad Penny and Tracy Bates. Free. Starworks Cafe & Tap Room, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: starworksnc.org/starworks-events.
November 1 & 15
WRITING TOGETHERNESS. 3–4:30 p.m. Gather with other writers to discuss what you’re working on, offer and receive feedback. Free. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: scuppernongbooks.com/events.
November 1
DÍA DE LOS MUERTOS. 10 a.m.–2 p.m. Enjoy family entertainment and crafts while learning about the holiday celebrated in honor of the loved ones no longer with us. Free. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.
PAULA POUNDSTONE. 7:30 p.m. The comedian known for her smart, observational humor takes the stage, kicking off the month with a night of laughs. Tickets: $46+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.
BRANDY & MONICA. 8 p.m. Two iconic singers plus several special guests come together for one night at The Boy Is Mine tour. Tickets: $93.30+. First Horizon Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.
MAKEUP BATTLE. 1 p.m. Fashion, beauty and cosplay collide at the boldest makeup event of the year. Tickets: $26.13+. Piedmont Hall, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.
November 2
THE EYES OF BACH. 3–5 p.m. Musician and author Marc Moskovitz delves into his historical novel, which transports the reader into the milieu of 18th-century Europe’s cobblestone streets and music-filled churches. Free. GreenHill Center for NC Art, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensborobound.com.
ROCK THE NIGHT AWAY. 5:30–7:30 p.m. Enjoy a night of music by the Ladies Auxiliary Band and delightful drinks crafted by 1618 On Location, while raising funds to support women and girls in Guilford County through the Women’s Professional Forum Foundation grant fund. Tickets: $50. Van Dyke Performance Space, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: wpforum.org/rock-the-night-away-for-wpff.
November 4, 18, 25
NOIR-VEMBER FILM SERIES. 7 p.m. Catch your fav film noir classics on the silver screen — Double Indemnity, The Third Man and Phantom Lady. Tickets: $9. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: ctgso.org.
November 5
READING THE WORLD. 7–8 p.m. Discover and discuss contemporary authors’ works in translation, such as this month’s pick — At Night
All Blood Is Black by David Diop — a dark novel of terror and transformation during the First World War. Free. Online. Info: scuppernongbooks.com/events.
November 6
UNCG JAZZ II. 7:30 p.m. The ensemble celebrates the music of Vince Guaraldi, known especially for composing Peanuts soundtracks. Tickets: $9+, The Crown at the Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.
LETTERS FROM HOME. 7:30 p.m. The world premier of the documentary Letters from Home features footage of a six-person tour team as they made their way across the United States over four months honoring the classic style of war-time music. Tickets: $15; Veterans, $10. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.
ARTIST TALK. 5:30–6:30 p.m. Weatherspoon curator Emily Stamey discusses the Making Connections exhibit with 2025–26 Falk visiting artist Stacy Lynn Waddell. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/calendar.
OVATION GALA. 6:30–8:30 p.m. TowneBank presents the First Annual Ovation Gala, an unforgettable evening of dining, music, dancing and celebration of Greensboro Opera’s work in the community. Tickets: $125+. Temple Emanuel, 1129 Jefferson Rd, Greensboro. Info: greensboroopera.org/tickets.
November 7 & 8
POTTERY SALE. 10 a.m.–9 p.m., 10 a.m.– 5 p.m. Peruse the “Creative Clayworks” of several Art Alliance makers. Free. Revolution Mill, Suite 103, 2001 Yanceyville St. Greensboro. Info: artalliancegso.org/pottery-sales.
November 7
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.
FIRST FRIDAY MUSIC. 6–8:30 p.m. The Original Blue Star Travelers provide an old-time string soundtrack to your gallery perusing. Free. GreenHill Center for NC Art, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc.org/events.
CURATOR’S TALK. Noon–1 p.m. See the Pattern Recognition exhibit through the eyes of museum curator Emily Stamey. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/calendar.
IL DIVO. 8 p.m. The multinational, classical crossover group delivers a gripping concert by
candlelight. Tickets: $74.20+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
CHORAL SOCIETY OF GREENSBORO. 7:30–9 p.m. Creative Greensboro kicks off its City Ensemble Concert season with a choral performance. Free, donations appreciated. Christ United Methodist Church. 410 N. Holden Road, Greensboro. Info: greensboronc.gov/departments/creative-greensboro/ arts-and-culture-calendar.
SHOPPING AND CHAMPAGNE. 6–9 p.m. Sip some bubbly, munch on heavy hors d’oeuvres and be among the first to shop from local artisan-made wares. Tickets: $40. Alamance Arts, 213 S. Main St., Graham. Info: alamancearts.org.
November 8 & 9
THE THORN. Times vary. Often described as cirque meets the passion, this show combines dance, martial arts, aerial acrobatics and emotionally powerful performances to tell the story of God’s love. Tickets: $54.60+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
November 8
NATURE JOURNALING. 10 a.m.–noon. Pack your pen or pencil plus journal and enjoy a group session of mindfulness and nature reflection. Free, registration required. Meeting Place, 801 W. Smith St., Greensboro. Info: downtowngreenway.org/events.
INDIGENOUS COOKING. Noon.–4 p.m. Celebrate Native American Heritage Month as costumed interpreters create dishes and discuss historic methods of native backcountry cooking. Free. Historical Park at High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.
EXHIBITION TOUR IN SPANISH. 11 a.m. Spanish-speaking museum visitors can catch a guided tour of Making Connections Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/ calendar.
BLANDWOOD BOURBON FESTIVAL. 1–5 p.m. Celebrate Blandwood’s rich history while sipping local whiskey to support the mansion’s continued preservation. Tickets: $40+. Blandwood Mansion, 447 W. Washington St., Greensboro. Info: preservationgreensboro.org/ blandwood-bourbon-festival.
THE OUTSIDERS. 7 p.m. Bring a blanket or chair and plop yourself on the park lawn to watch this iconic film on the outdoor screen. Free. LeBauer Park, 208 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensborodowntownparks. org/calendar.
November 9–30
HONORING WILLIAM H. JOHNSON. Inspired by Weatherspoon’s Fighters for Freedom exhibit, neighborhood artists celebrate the influence of William H. Johnson’s art and themes on their own artistic vision. Free. African American Atelier at the Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/calendar.
November 9
JAZZ WORKSHOP. 2–3:30 p.m. All levels of musicians are welcome to listen, discuss and jam with other musicians while learning technique. The theme is insta-bop, featuring the music of Charlie Parker. Free. The Music Academy of North Carolina, 1327 Beaman Place, Greensboro. Info: musicacademync.org.
SPEED FRIENDING. 5:30–7:30 p.m. Looking to make new friends and spark great conversation? Register for your age group’s time slot and come away with new buds. Free, registration required. LoFi Park, 500 N. Eugene St., Greensboro. Info: downtowngreenway.org/ events.
MADE 4 THE HOLIDAYS. 11 a.m.–4 p.m. Shop a juried show of art makers and artisans selling handmade wares such as jewelry and pottery. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro. Info: facebook. com/gsofarmersmkt.
BIG BAND. 3–5 p.m. Swing dancing — or sitting back and relaxing — is encouraged as the Greensboro Big Band performs. Free, donations appreciated. Van Dyke Performing Space, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: https://www.greensboro-nc.gov/departments/ creative-greensboro/arts-and-culture-calendar.
SILENT BOOK CLUB. Noon–2 p.m. Shhhh! BYO book or purchase a new one and settle in to read quietly alongside others. Free. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: scuppernongbooks.com/ events.
November 10
HISTORY MUSEUM DINNER. 6:30–8:30 p.m. Smithsonian distinguished curator and ambassador-at-large Richard Kurin speaks at the annual Greensboro History Museum dinner. Tickets: $150+. O.Henry Hotel, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: greensborohistory.org/events.
November 11–30
TREASURES. LEGACIES. REMIX. Explore 100-years-worth of hidden treasures from the museum’s collections. Free. Greensboro History Museum, 130 Summit Ave., Greensboro. Info: greensborohistory.org/events.
November 12 & 13
TINA. Times vary. Take a journey back in time to witness Tina Turner make the ultimate comeback to become the “Queen of Rock‘n’Roll” in this Broadway adaptation of her life story. Tickets: $48+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/ events.
November 12
PLAYWRIGHTS FORUM. 7–9 p.m. Meet with other creative individuals to workshop your own scripts and follow creative monthly assignments. Membership: $40/year. Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov/departments/ creative-greensboro.
GWAR. 6:30 p.m. If heavy metal is your jam, don’t miss a night celebrating 40 years of GWAR with special guests Helmet, The Dwarves and Blood Vulture. Tickets: $46.30+. Piedmont Hall, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.
November 13
90 YEARS UNITED. 5:30–7 p.m. Attend the opening reception for an exhibit celebrating United Way of Greater High Point’s impact
on the city. Free. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.
HOT GLASS, COLD BEER. 5:30 p.m. Enjoy glass blowing demonstrations while grooving to live music, sipping craft beers and noshing on food truck fare. Tickets: $5. Starworks, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: starworksnc.org/ starworks-events.
November 14–23
THE NIGHT LARRY KRAMER KISSED ME. Times vary. David Drake’s hit one-man show has been reimagined for an ensemble that tells the story of his call to gay pride and activism through a series of vignettes. Tickets: $15+. Congregational United Church of Christ, 400 W. Radiance Drive, Greensboro. Info: triadprideperformingarts.org.
November 14
DR. NEIL DEGRASSE TYSON. 7:30 p.m. The NASA Distinguished Public Service Medalwinning astrophysicist explores “The Search for Life in the Universe.” Tickets: $75.95+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
UNCG JAZZ VOCALS. 7:30 p.m. From Ella
Fitzgerald to Duke Ellington, this inaugural UNCG Jazz Vocal concert dubbed Shades of Blue explores innovative arrangements. Tickets: $7+. The Crown at the Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: ctgso.org.
ROYAL BINGO. 7 p.m. Brenda the Drag Queen hosts an evening of Green Queen Bingo for ages 15 and up. Tickets: $20+. Piedmont Hall, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.
JAM SESSION. 3–5 p.m. GSOul’s DJ cranks the hip hop, Afrobeats and house tunes for you to catch a vibe or make some moves. Free. LeBauer Park, 208 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensborodowntownparks.org/calendar.
November 15–23
THE WIZARD OF OZ . Times vary. The Community Theatre of Greensboro’s annual production of the L. Frank Baum classic tornadoes down the yellow brick road onto stage. Tickets: $10+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: ctgso.org.
November 15
AMERICAN CLASSICS. 7:30 p.m. Pianist Gabriela Martinez is accompanied by the Greensboro Symphony to celebrate American
compositions. Tickets: $45+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
WALKING TOUR. 9 a.m.–noon. Explore the heart of the city with a guided Downtown Greenway walking tour, covering the full 4-mile loop. Along the way, discover insights into the project itself, local history, surrounding neighborhoods, public art, environmental efforts, economic impact and more. Free, registration recommended. LoFi Park, 500 N. Eugene St., Greensboro. Info: downtowngreenway.org/ events.
CAROLINA CHRISTMAS BAZAAR. 8
a.m.–3 p.m. Shop from 75 vendors, a tag sale, a book sale and a bake sale, plus grab a sandwich, hot dog or soup for lunch — or come early and hungry for the sausage biscuits and muffin breakfast. Free. Wesley Memorial Methodist Church, 1225 Chestnut Street, High Point. Info: carolinachristmasbazaar.com.
GUITAR CONCERT. 4 p.m. Music Academy of North Carolina guitar department chair Ken Brown and Guilford College professor Kami Rowan perform original music, including a duet between Rowan and Tucker Gamble. Free. The Music Academy of North Carolina, 1327
THE SOUND OF MUSIC. 5:30 p.m. The hills — and lawn — are alive with the sound of this musical sensation as it hits the outdoor movie screen at the park. BYO chair or blanket. Free. LeBauer Park, 208 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensborodowntownparks.org/calendar.
November 16
SUNDAY OPENING. Noon–5 p.m. In celebration of the Fighters for Freedom exhibit, the museum opens its doors on a Sunday, featuring informal panel discussions and refreshments. Free. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: weatherspoonart.org/ calendar.
November 17
ACCELERATING IMPACT LUNCHEON. 11 a.m.–1 p.m. Come together over food and education while hearing from keynote speaker Maurice “Mo” Green, our state’s superintendent of schools. Tickets: $60+. GCS Community Education Center, 2703 E. Florida St., Greensboro. Info: shift-ed.org/events.
November 19
MERRY MERRY MARKET. 9 a.m.–8 p.m.
Peruse a bounty of goods created by local artisans and crafters. Tickets: $5; kids under 12, free. The Colonnade at Revolution Mill, 1000 Revolution Mill Drive, Greensboro. Info: merrymerrymarketgso.com.
THE ROCK ORCHESTRA. 8 p.m. During a candlelit concert, rock and metal anthems are performed like never before. Tickets: $61.50+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
GABBY’S DOLLHOUSE. 6 p.m. Puppets, dynamic staging and songs come together to create a live show your kiddos will remember fur-ever. Tickets: $34.45+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
November 20
PHILHARMONIA. 7–8:30 p.m. Creative Greensboro presents its City Ensemble Concert series, featuring the Philharmonia of Greensboro. Free, donations appreciated. Van Dyke Performing Space, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: https://www.greensboro-nc.gov/departments/ creative-greensboro/arts-and-culture-calendar.
TRANS-SIBERIAN ORCHESTRA. 7 p.m. The group performs a night of its quintessential
holiday grooves during Ghosts of Christmas Eve. Tickets: $55+. First Horizon Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex. com/events.
MEMPHIS MAY FIRE. 7 p.m. What’s better than one metalcore band? Four — catch MMF with Rain City Drive, Nevertel and If Not for Me. Tickets: $41.15+. Piedmont Hall, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.
Jazz at the O.Henry
Thursdays 6 • 9 p.m.
O.Henry Hotel Social Lobby
November 21
CIRQUE CHRISTMAS. 7:30 p.m. You’ll be dazzled and enchanted as A Magical Cirque Christmas gets you in the holiday spirit. Tickets: $41+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
November 22
COOKING DEMONSTRATION. 11 a.m.–4 p.m. Costumed interpreters cook a traditional fall harvest meal over an open hearth. Free. Hoggatt House at High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.
CONCERT BAND. 7:30–9 p.m. The Greensboro Concert Band performs classic songs for the afternoon. Free, donations appreciated. Dana Auditorium at Guilford College, 710 Levi Coffin Drive, Greensboro. Info: greensboro-nc.gov/departments/
creative-greensboro/arts-and-culture-calendar. LEGENDS OF LAUGHTER. 8 p.m. Sommore, Lavell Crawford, Earthquake, Arnez J and Drankin come together for one hilarious night that will leave you wanting Sommore. Tickets: $84.10+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
HOLIDAY MARKET OPENING. 9 a.m.–5 p.m. Peruse one-of-a-kind glass-blown ornaments and holiday baubles for giving and keeping. Free. Starworks, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: starworksnc.org/starworks-events.
November 23
ANNE WILSON. 7:30 p.m. One of Nashville’s young trailblazers, the rising ChristianAmerican star takes the stage. Tickets: $43+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.
LUNCH WITH DOROTHY GALE. Noon. Snag a unique opportunity to snap pics with Community Theatre of Greensboro’s favorite Ozians. Tickets: $13+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre. com/events.
November 24
ROMANCE BOOK CLUB. 7 p.m. Romance is not dead — it’s alive and well at Scuppernong Books’ monthly online book club. Free. Info: scuppernongbooks.com/events.
November 26
JAZZ NIGHT. 6:30 p.m. Sip brews and munch on tasty eats while tapping your feet to Soul Noises. Free. Starworks Cafe & Tap Room, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: starworksnc.org/ starworks-events.
THANKSGIVING EVE JAM. 8 p.m. While the whole family’s in town, take them to jam out with Carri Smithey Band, Josh King and a lineup that’s more stuffed than your turkey. Tickets: $11.80+. Flat Iron, 221 Summit Ave., Greensboro. Info: flatirongso.com/events.
November 30
MOTOWN CHRISTMAS. 7:30 p.m. An ensemble featuring members of The Temptations, The Miracles and The Capitols performs classic Motown hits plus holiday tunes. Tickets: $49+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.
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-inresidence Chip Holton paints. Free. Lucky 32. 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: lucky32.com.
FAMILY NIGHT. 5–7 p.m. Enjoy an art-driven 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.
MUSIC IN THE PARK. 6–8 p.m. Sip and snack at LeBauer Park while grooving to local and regional artists. Free. Lawn Service, 208 N. Davie St, Greensboro. Info: greensborodowntownparks.org/calendar.
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
POTTERS’ PUMPKIN PATCH. Take a self-guided tour through five artist galleries featuring unique fall-themed ceramics along Seagrove’s Pottery Trail. Free. Seagrove, NC. Info: potterspumpkinpatch.com.
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.
BLACKSMITH DEMONSTRATION. 10 a.m.–4:30 p.m. Watch the sparks fly and redhot 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. 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.
GreenScene
ArtStock Opening Gallery Party
Center for Visual Artists
October 2, 2025
Photographs by Becky VanderVeen
Sylvia Shade, Lenner Williams
Andrea Lewis, Angela Gunter, Lisa Eithier
Jazmine Boykins, Olivia Brooks
Gail Kelly, Crystal Miller, Jimmy James
Brenda Olds Carter, Nancy Seay, Tracie Lewis
Cris & Dan dos Santos, Rudy Gauthier, Tessa Minchew, Jenny Ballard
Natalie Schorr, Linda Schumacher, Mary Coyne Wessling, Christopher Koenig
Phyllis Sharpe, Jerry Cartwright, Natalie Schorr, Linda Schumacher
Aidan Loughran, Sage Betts
Roxy Ulmsten, Michael Clapp, Kristi Benedict
Arlene Gutterman, Kate Panzer
Elizabeth Flax & Sid Branch
Cameron Butler, Linda Spitsen
Monica Hilario, Deb Ruffino, Nataliya Strumyla
GreenScene
O.Henry Magazine Author Series
Sarah McCoy & Hank Phillippi Ryan
Grandover Resort
September 21, 2025
Photographs by Becky VanderVeen
Hank Phillippi Ryan, Sarah McCoy
Britainy Ambrosino, Lee Mortensen, Kelly Wainscott
Kim Eberhard, Paula McMillan, Barbara Sanders, Sanerra Kinney
Thanksgiving traditions? Everyone has ’em. Some families habitually sign up for the local turkey-trot races, dressed in matching tees with some cutesy saying like “First we run, then we eat” paired with fall-colored tulle skirts at their waists and coordinating, striped, knee-high socks. We are not that family.
And yet, in 2023, I ambush my oldest, 18-year-old Sawyer, begging him to turkey trot with his momma in the Greensboro Gobbler 5K. My motives are not entirely self-centered: A crosscountry and track athlete when he graduated from Grimsley earlier that year, since then his sneakers have been collecting dust — not the kind kicked up on a trail.
An avid, albeit slow, runner myself, I know the benefits exercise has on my mental health. Trust me when I tell you that my family has many times breathed a sigh of relief when I hit the pavement. Of course, tell a teenager you think anything would be good for them and watch their eyes roll. Even if you can’t see the movement in their eye sockets — trust me — you can feel it.
Nevertheless, Sawyer oh-so-reluctanty agrees to join me in the race. I get to work training, suggesting that he do the same. And yet the weeks tick by without him so much as glancing at his Asics. But he’s a cross-country runner, after all, and confident that he can just wing it and be absolutely fine. Oh, to have that kind of confidence!
Race day arrives and we make our way to the starting line. Music blares on nearby speakers, families decked out in the
aforementioned outfits huddle together and Davie Street thrums with energy. The gun goes off, and off we go. Within seconds, Sawyer’s feet swiftly take him way ahead of me. After less than a block, Sawyer’s gone from my line of vision and I know I won’t see him again until the end, but that’s OK. I am not trying to prove anything — to my son or to myself. Surprisingly, I cross the finish line a full minute and a half earlier than I’d expected and I feel great.
Smiling and panting, I scan the crowd for my son. Finally, I spot him. He’s fair-skinned as it is, but his face is as white as a ghost. I hate to call my own child pasty, but there’s no other word to describe him just then.
“Let’s take a selfie and commemorate this moment!” I say, excitedly whipping out my phone. He winces as I snap the photo and does a quick about face. “I don’t feel so good,” he ekes out. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
So, in the middle of downtown Greensboro’s Center City Park, Sawyer leans his head over a garbage can while I look around to make sure we aren’t in the background of anyone else’s photos.
As quickly as we can, we hop in the car and head home. Sawyer, gripping a half-drunk bottle of water, once again has color in his cheeks.
When we pull up in our driveway five minutes later, the lucky teenager has bounced right back as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. He turns to me before opening his car door and says, “Well, Mom, I think we’ve just started a new tradition.”
“I’d love that! And maybe next year we can get fun outfits,” I say, already picturing them in my head and wondering if I can run with a heavy stuffed-turkey hat on my head.
“Not happening,” he says, quickly squashing that dream. “But next year I might train a little bit.” OH
