O.Henry November 2017

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Opus 2017-2018

CONCERT SERIES

GROUP

The City Arts and Events Music Center of the Greensboro Parks & Recreation Department proudly presents the Opus Concert Series, free of charge! The popular concert series showcases outstanding musical entertainment at exciting venues throughout our community. Join us!

CONCERT DATE

TIME

Choral Society of Greensboro Jon Brotherton, Conductor

Friday, November 10, 2017

7:30 PM

Christ United Methodist Church 410 North Holden Road

Philharmonia of Greensboro Peter Perret, Conductor

Friday, November 17, 2017

7:30 PM

Dana Auditorium, Guilford College 5800 West Friendly Avenue

Saturday, November 18, 2017

7:30 PM

Dana Auditorium, Guilford College 5800 West Friendly Avenue

Monday, November 20, 2017

7:30 PM

Van Dyke Performance Space 200 North Davie Street

Greensboro Oratorio Singers - Messiah Jay O. Lambeth, Conductor

Saturday, December 2, 2017

7 PM

Greensboro Youth Chorus Ann Doyle and Teresa Allred, Conductors

Saturday, December 16, 2017

7:30 PM

St. Francis Episcopal Church 3506 Lawndale Drive

Sunday, February 11, 2018

6 - 8 PM

Berry Hall, Canterbury School 5400 Old Lake Jeanette Road

Friday, February 23, 2018

7:30 PM

Christ United Methodist Church 410 North Holden Road

Sunday, March 4, 2018

3 PM

Saturday, March 10, 2018

7:30 PM

Sunday, April 29, 2018

3 PM

Friday, May 4, 2018

7:30 PM

Christ United Methodist Church 410 North Holden Road

Saturday, May 5, 2018

7:30 PM

Christ United Methodist Church 410 North Holden Road

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

7:30 PM

Van Dyke Performance Space 200 North Davie Street

Friday, May 11, 2018

7:30 PM

Christ United Methodist Church 410 North Holden Road

Greensboro Concert Band Kiyoshi Carter, Conductor

Saturday, May 19, 2018

7:30 PM

Dana Auditorium, Guilford College 5800 West Friendly Avenue

Greensboro Brass Ensemble & Greensboro Trombone Ensemble Kiyoshi Carter, Conductor & Larry Porter, Conductor

Sunday, May 20, 2018

3 PM

Greensboro Concert Band Kiyoshi Carter, Conductor Greensboro Percussion Ensembles with Special Guests: NC A&T State University Percussion Ensemble

Mike Lasley, Conductor

Greensboro Big Band - Sweet Sound Valentine’s Dance includes dancing and music

Mike Day, Conductor Greensboro Tarheel Chorus Carol Stephenson, Conductor Philharmonia of Greensboro - Pillow Pops Concert with Special Guests: Dance Project: the School at City Arts

Peter Perret, Conductor Greensboro Concert Band Kiyoshi Carter, Conductor Greensboro Youth Jazz Ensemble Wally West, Conductor Philharmonia of Greensboro Peter Perret, Conductor Greensboro Youth Chorus - 30th Anniversary Concert Ann Doyle and Teresa Allred, Conductors Greensboro Percussion Ensembles Mike Lasley, Conductor Choral Society of Greensboro Jon Brotherton, Conductor

LOCATION

Christ United Methodist Church 410 North Holden Road

Lindley Recreation Center 2907 Springwood Drive Dana Auditorium, Guilford College 5800 West Friendly Avenue Trinity Church 5200 West Friendly Avenue

Stephen D. Hyers Theatre 200 North Davie Street

For details about the concert programs: www.gsomusiccenter.com 336-373-2549 • music@greensboro-nc.gov www.facebook.com/cityarts1

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November 2017 DEPARTMENTS 17 Simple Life

By Jim Dodson 20 Short Stories 23 Doodad

By Grant Britt 25 Life’s Funny

By Maria Johnson 27 Omnivorous Reader

By Stephen Smith 31 Scuppernong Bookshelf 33 Papa Daddy’s Mindfield

By Clyde Edgerton 35 The Evolving Species

By Tom Allen 37 True South

By Susan Kelly 39 Gate City Journal

By Antionette Kerr 45 The Hungry Traveler

By D.G. Martin 51 In The Spirit

By Tony Cross 55 The Pleasures of Life Dept.

By Grant Britt 59 Birdwatch

By Susan Campbell 61 Wandering Billy

By Billy Eye

FEATURES 65 The Neighbor’s Pears Poetry by Terri Kirby Erickson 66 Fickett’s Charge By Maria Johnsont

Five friends, a thousand paintings and the extroardinary legacy of Greensboro’s greatest street artist

78 Patron Saint of The Farm By Jim Moriarty

How an unheralded pioneer of women’s golf created a life of meaning and joy

82 Physician, Heal Thyself

Five local doctors use art to heed time-honored biblical advice

88 Radiant Bride By Billy Ingram

The Weir-Jordan house is firmly wedded to Greensboro’s past

97 November Almanac By Ash Alder

Pumpkin bars, paperwhites and the Venus-Jupiter conjunction

98 Arts Calendar 120 GreenScene 127 Accidental Astrologer

By Astrid Stellanova 1 28 O.Henry Ending

By Nancy Oakley

Cover Art and Art on

8 O.Henry

this page by Maggie Fickett

November 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Holidays

at old salem Experience a uniquely Moravian Christmas with putzes and pyramids as well as fresh-baked treats, unique holiday gifts, seasonal concerts, and the holiday spirit.

november 14–december 31 Beginning November 17 candlelight tours: “putzing” through salem – all new intimate, hands-on experience December 9 & 16 st. nicholas in salem – family activities and a visit with St. Nicholas December 9 salem christmas – a full day of hands-on activities and holiday fun!

December 22 a christmas evening in old salem – a family friendly self-guided evening of Christmas traditions by candlelight For a full list of events, classes, concerts, and hotel packages, visit oldsalem.org or call 336-721-735o

old salem museums & gardens, winston-salem, north carolina plan your visit to winston-salem and book a holidays at old salem hotel package. Package includes tickets to Old Salem and accommodations at either the Brookstown Inn or the Kimpton Cardinal Hotel. Find out more at oldsalem.org/holiday.

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M A G A Z I N E

Volume 7, No. 11 “I have a fancy that every city has a voice.”

336.617.0090 1848 Banking Street, Greensboro, NC 27408 www.ohenrymag.com PUBLISHER

David Woronoff Jim Dodson, Editor • jim@thepilot.com Andie Stuart Rose, Art Director • andie@thepilot.com Nancy Oakley, Senior Editor • nancy@ohenrymag.com Lauren M. Coffey, Graphic Designer Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer CONTRIBUTING EDITORS Cynthia Adams, David Claude Bailey, Harry Blair, Maria Johnson CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Sam Froelich, John Gessner, Bert VanderVeen, Mark Wagoner CONTRIBUTORS Ash Alder, Jane Borden, Grant Britt, Susan Campbell, Wiley Cash, Clyde Edgerton, Billy Eye, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Susan Kelly, Sara King, Brian Lampkin, Meridith Martens, D.G. Martin, Ogi Overman, Romey Petite, Stephen Smith, Astrid Stellanova

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O.H

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For more information about Dr. Olin and surgery visit www.GreensboroOrthopaedics.com

12 O.Henry

November 2017

©Copyright 2017. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited.

O.Henry Magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Simple Life

The Most Revealing Month Savoring the bittersweet fruits of November

By Jim Dodson

For a number of reasons, I call No-

vember the Most Revealing Month.

To start, the gardener in me likes to see my gardens nicely mulched and tucked in for a decent winter snooze. This is when I step back and take stock of my brilliant and bonehead gardening maneuvers conducted over the long hot summer, while awaiting the post-holiday avalanche of spring gardening catalogs, which a fellow gardener pal calls “porn for plant people.”

The outdoorsman in me loves the soulful sight of November’s bare hardwoods stripped clean of leaves, revealing nature in all her naked glory, “That time of year thou mayst in me behold,” as my fellow autumn-lover Will Shakespeare described in his 73rd sonnet, “When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang/ Upon those boughs which shake against the cold / Bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang.”

During the two decades we lived in a house I built on a forested hill near the coast of Maine, surrounded by 600 acres of old-growth birch, maple and hemlock, November was prime time for topping up my woodpile and erecting my elaborate Rube Goldberg plant protectors that never failed to amuse the FedEx guy when he found his way up our lonely road into the forest. More than once he asked me why I went to all the trouble to build an elaborate garden deep in a wood that only family, friends, occasional lost strangers, the odd moose and the FedEx Guy himself would ever see.

“Summer’s lease is brief. And bittersweet November simply reveals how far I’ve progressed on this earth,” I continued, though I don’t think he cared a fig for either bare ruin’d choirs or boughs shaking against the cold.

Owing to the angle of the retreating sun, that said, the November sunThe Art & Soul of Greensboro

light always seemed deeper and richer on late autumn afternoons, a benediction through stained glass, throwing the contours of my wooded patch of earth into stunning relief, while the rocky soil underfoot offered spicy scents of decaying leaves and the garden’s last gasp as my private world turned inward. As a bonus in the department of sidereal affairs, the stars on any clear November night tended to glitter like diamonds splashed across black velvet — ideal for catching the Milky Way, the year’s final meteor showers and in some years the rare treat of the Northern Lights.

To my November-loving way of thinking, blazing fires, the earlier darkness and the annual gathering of the tribe for the slower, unrushed Thanksgiving rituals — cook, eat, watch football, doze in an armchair, take a walk in the woods, eat again, doze again, have a final slice of pumpkin pie before bed — made the holiday my top designated feasting day of the year.

(Though I’m thankful it comes but once a year. Otherwise I’d resemble either Shakespeare’s Falstaff or at the very least Clifford the Big Red Dog balloon from the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.)

Not surprisingly, November is the keeper of many of my favorite memories.

Three decades ago, having uprooted my life and moved from Atlanta to a bend in the Green River outside of West Brattleboro, Vermont, I found myself unexpectedly renewed owing to the charms of the eleventh month.

Having taken possession of a small wooden “solar cabin” owned by a pair of delightful aging hippies who’d grown wealthy selling chemical toilets to fellow urban escapees, I heated the place with apple wood I split by hand, falling asleep most nights under a down quilt, warmed by the glow of my Intrepid woodstove and a young golden retriever from the local Humane Society who believed two-dog nights were better than one.

Before month’s end, I’d taken up fly fishing and playing golf again on a 9-hole course in town. An old-timer informed me Rudyard Kipling played November 2017

O.Henry 17

Simple Life

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there during the time he lived in Brattleboro, allegedly not long after he published The Jungle Book. I never managed to confirm this story but the very idea of it helped me rediscover my favorite boyhood game.

That November, my neighbors along the river road invited me to a community “alternative” Thanksgiving supper at a local hay barn. There was a fiddle band and lots of covered dishes made from local organic gardens, “all natural” dishes that to my traditional Southern palate tasted suspiciously like sautéed boxwood, including something that looked just like turkey but turned out to be my first encounter with tofu.

To a slightly homesick Southern boy far from home, missing his mama’s famous collard greens, cornbread and fried okra, this constituted a walk on the wild side of American counter-culture that I cherish to this day. That evening, I danced with a beautiful gal named Snowflake who ran a mushroom farm and had more underarm hair than me and innocently inquired if — my being from “The deep South” — I’d ever met anyone who was “actually in the Ku Klux Klan.” I replied with a tongue firmly planted in cheek that my daddy his own self was once in “our local Klan – until his klaxon switched from wearing all-natural cotton sheets to perma-press.” For some reason, she did not find this amusing. The dance ended quickly and I never did get to try one of her gourmet mushrooms.

The next time November rolled round, however, I went on a first date with a beautiful dark-haired girl who’d just graduated from Harvard and had come to work at the magazine where I was not only the senior writer but also the first Southerner in Yankee Magazine’s 75-year history. By then I was living in the middle of a New Hampshire apple orchard just outside Peterborough and having the time of my life writing about life in every cozy corner of rural New England — working at a legendary magazine where I learned most of what I know about the power of great storytelling.

That next autumn, that beautiful girl and I got married in a salt marsh north of Boston, days after a hurricane swept up the coast from Carolina.

Our colorful Yankee neighbors in the village of Essex brought covered dishes — baked beans, turnip pie, Indian pudding and homemade wine.

The dancing went on until well after midnight, about the time the dance floor began to sink in the mud.

I’d come far and my romance with November continued — and grew — over the next two decades. It was the month I most loved for working in my large faux English garden at summer’s end in Maine, topping up my woodpile for the winter, cleaning my tools, tucking in plants, drinking hot cider, watching fires and changeable skies and the southward flight of birds, savoring the solitude and beauty of nature’s most revealing month.

Between us, I thought I would never part with that house I designed and built on that beautiful forested hill of birch and hemlock; I had always imagined my ashes someday being spread over a garden I spent almost a third of my life building and tearing apart, fussing over and planning, digging into the soil and delving into its soul.

But as Truman Capote once pointed out, every Southern boy comes home again — if only in a box.

In time, after my children had grown and headed off on their own life journeys, I succumbed to a quiet longing for home that had to be answered.

It was a decision I’ve never fully regretted, for memories are like glowing coals in winter and life is full of lovely compensations. One is this magazine and the circle I’ve somehow closed.

Another is November in North Carolina where I can grow roses almost to December, a month just as sweet and revealing as it ever was on my soulful Maine hilltop . . . though I do miss the naked forest, that lonely moose and the mystified FedEx Guy from time to time. OH Contact Editor Jim Dodson at jim@thepilot.com.

18 O.Henry

November 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Short Stories Gourder of the Day

Summer’s well in the rearview mirror and though it pains us to bid farewell to fare such as tomatoes and cucumbers, there’s hope: ’Tis the season of cucurbitaceae, the plant family that includes pumpkins and squash, as well as gourds. Learn all about the different varieties, how to cultivate them in your garden and how to create works of art with their hard shells as a canvas at “Gourds — From the Garden to the Kitchen and Craft Room,” a Lunch and Learn discussion on November 9 at noon led by Judi Fleming at Paul J. Ciener Botanical Garden (215 South Main Street, Kernersville). For nonmembers, the cost is $2; bring your own eats and the Garden will provide beverages. To register: (336) 996-7888 or pauljcienerbotanicalgarden.org.

Gather Together

On November 22 at a special holiday version of the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market (501 Yanceyville Street), where you can pick up your pre-ordered Thanksgiving turkey on November 22 from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. As a preliminary celebration of the holiday, enjoy cruising among the stalls, and amassing more treats for America’s national eat-fest: flowers for your table, sides galore — greens, turnips, sweet potatoes — and don’t forget those oh-sosinful layer cakes and pumpkin pies . . . every bit of it worth saying grace over. Info: (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.

Eye Candy

Roald Dahl’s classic children’s tale, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory comes to Taylor Theatre (406 Tate Street) November 11–18 courtesy of UNCG’s North Carolina Theatre for Young People.

Lose yourself in a world of confection in which young Charlie wins the golden ticket to tour the chocolate factory of the eccentric and mysterious Willy Wonka.

A series of adventures and misadventures ensues, wrapping up the storyline in the old saw that sweets really are intended for the sweet. Performance times vary.

Tickets and info: (336) 272-0160 or vpa.uncg.edu.

Gather Ye Rosebud While Ye May

And you thought today’s media was corrupt? Catch Orson Welles’s 1941 masterpiece, Citizen Kane, which will be screened at 8 p.m. on November 14 as a part of the “Decades of Film” series at the Carolina Theatre (310 South Greene Street).

Often considered the greatest and most influential film of all time, Citizen Kane broke ground on several fronts: cinematography, lighting, and unusual for the studio system of its day, complete creative control for Welles.

The auteur wrote, directed and starred in the oeuvre about a ruthless and mysterious media mogul, Charles Foster Kane, believed by many to have been a thinly disguised portrait of newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. Info and tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

Swish!

Tired of binging on football along with turkey and leftovers? Then turn your attention to nothin’ but net! On November 26 at 5 p.m., Greensboro Swarm, along with USA Basketball, will host the USA’s inaugural home game on the hardwood at the Fieldhouse at Greensboro Coliseum (1921 West Gate City Boulevard). And these hoops should be a humdinger, because the contest is the FIBA (International Basketball Federation) World Cup Qualifying Round, in which the Red White and Blue go toe-to-toe, jump shot-to-jump shot, and more against Mexico. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

Persimmon Power

It started out as a party for the neighborhood folks who’d helped restore his mother’s property after she passed away in 2008. And then, according to founder Gene Stafford, “It sorta got out of hand.” And then it really got out of hand. And this year, being its 10th anniversary, the Colfax Persimmon Festival may get out of hand yet again.

Stafford, a landscape photographer and instructor by profession, holds the festival at his old home place (558 N. Bunker Hill Road, Oak Ridge). Set on 17 acres of land, it has been in the Stafford family at least since 1781. This year’s event will take place Saturday, November 4, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Admission is $10, with kids 12 and under free. The history-themed event will feature no fewer than 50 vendors, artisans and historical interpreters. Among them are a blacksmith, chainsaw artist, flint knapper and a tobacco-stick maker, Also featured will be a cider press, molasses maker, Model A car show, plus Civil and Revolutionary War re-enactors. Two bands, the Daniel Baker Band and Cornbread Revival, will provide entertainment. Numerous food vendors will be on hand, but the star of the show is the persimmon pudding and pulp, for sale in the Stafford Store. “The persimmons have been picked, and the pulp and pudding is being made,” says Stafford. “I guess we’re ready.” Info: (336) 682-5328 or colfaxpersimmonfest.com

Sauce of the Month

Ogi Sez Ogi Overman Generally this job consists of researching all the area venues and narrowing each month’s concerts down to what I consider the top five. This month, for some strange reason, many of the premier hot spots did not book any worthy national or regional shows, making my job a bit tougher. But, bird dog that I am, I found five that are guaranteed to sate our musical cravings.

• November 1, Carolina Theatre: I hope you picked this issue up hot off the presses, because incomparable sax maniac Boney James is in town. Four Grammy nominations and 16 albums, including a brand-new one, speaks volumes.

“BITE BACK! reads the label. Despite the name, this new sauce that I picked up at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market nips more than it bites. Then again, I purchased the mild variety. With the thick, red appearance of so many other sauces, I expected a Memphis or Kansas City rib sauce. Or maybe a Texas brisket sauce. But it was more like a combination of all of the above — sweet, but without being ketchupy, peppy without being hot. Hops are listed as an ingredient(!), as well as balsamic vinegar and Worcestershire sauce. The end result is an aromatic, come-hither undertone that sneaks up on you. In fact, BITE BACK is a toothsome treat. Check www.facebook.com/ ncwineanddine/ for availability. — DCB

• November 3, Blind Tiger: The BT seems to be going for a younger demographic lately, but our own rock god Patrick Rock is a cross-generational monster. His killer band will be joined by the Josh King Band.

• November 4, High Point Theatre: If it’s Zydeco, Cajun and swamp boogie you crave, this is your lucky month. Mojo and the Bayou Gypsies are certified masters of Mardi Gras and bring the party with them wherever they roam.

• November 11, Cone Denim Entertainment Center: Considered by many (including me) to be the greatest electric guitarist alive, Yngwie Malmsteen is the standard by which all Stratmasters are measured. Whether jazz fusion, metal, prog rock or whatever, he truly has to be seen and heard to be believed.

Concert-ed Efforts

They’re back! The OPUS Concert series opens its 2017–18 season on November 10th with Choral Society of Greensboro’s performance of “Petite Messe Solennelle,” by Rossini, with Jon Brotherton conducting (Christ United Methodist Church, 410 North Holden Road). Next up on the 17th and 18th: Philharmonia of Greensboro and Conductor Peter Perret with a program of Haydn, Brahms and Tchaikovsky, and Greensboro Concert Band led by Kiyoshi Carter (both at Dana Auditorium, 5800 West Friendly Avenue). Winding up the month on the 20th is Greensboro Percussion Ensemble, with special guest N.C. A&T Percussion Ensemble, all under the baton of Mike Lasley at Van Dyke Performance Space (200 North Davie Street). All concerts start at 7:30 p.m. and are free of charge, though donations are appreciated. To see the entire season schedule, go to gsomusiccenter.com.

• November 25, O.Henry Hotel: Forget the turkey leftovers and get thee to the Saturday Select Series, for there you will find the cat daddy of jazz pianists, Ed Paolantonio. But wait, there’s more: Angela Bingham Longino on vocals, Scott Sawyer on guitar and Ron Brendle Brindle on bass. Now there’s something to be thankful for.

Rossini

Doodad

A Little Goat Music The Anne-Claire Niver story begins with unexpected baaackup singers

PHOTOGRAPHS COURTESY OF JAVIER HERNANDEZ

W

arbling while goats nibble at the hem of your shorts is a good way to break into show bidness. It’s a technique Anne-Claire Niver, known for fronting Anne-Claire and the Wild Mystics, found useful to jumpstart her musical career. But it was no novelty act. When she actually took the stage, the goats stayed home.

After getting her degree in classical voice performance at UNCG in 2013, the N.C. native was burned out on the genre. “There were just a lot of people it came more naturally to,” she says. “I’d been in school for five years at that point, I was done, so I unofficially quit music.”

After moving home with her parents following graduation, Niver was feeling lost. Then she met Laurelyn Dossett’s daughter Amelia, who had lived and taught in Thailand for two and a half years. The chance encounter sent her to Thailand, where she also taught. “It seemed like sort of the opposite of my life at the moment, and I just decided to go ahead and do it,” Niver says of her decision to follow Amelia’s example.

“It was the hardest thing that I’ve ever done and an endlessly rewarding thing,” Niver says of her 6-months-long adventure. “I came to terms with a lot of things about myself: That I was a survivor, that I was going to be able to push through any situation because I had to, and even more so, no matter where I go, what I do, I’m a person who makes music.”

After teaching her high school–age students the lesson for the day, she’d teach the kids a song, in English, under the guise of helping them with their English skills. “But really, I did it because it was fun and they loved it, and I found I just couldn’t escape what I was doing, couldn’t escape music; it was just who I was.”

After returning from Thailand, Niver took a job at Prodigal Farms near Rougemont, overseeing the care and feeding of several hundred goats as well as helping with the family-owned farm’s goat cheese operation. The goats were the perfect audience for Niver’s blossoming songwriting career, gently heckling her The Art & Soul of Greensboro

with insistent “baaas” as she delivered her material, even interacting with her, chewing on the bottoms of her shorts as she was trying to sing, as evidenced in this News and Observer video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPpWv8I ANi0&feature=youtu.be “I treasure that video,” Niver says. “It was one of the first songs I had ever written, and a very particular time in my life where I was trying to figure out, I’m writing all of this stuff, what am I gonna do with it?”

Coming from a classical tradition, Niver had been singing music written by others for her entire life. “I was never encouraged to write my own music, didn’t believe that I could. I wasn’t seeing a lot of girls or women my age writing music, at least not in my program. So this was a time when I was just writing music for myself because it was a therapeutic process, an outlet just for me.”

Niver’s career has blossomed in the three years since, fronting Anne-Claire and the Wild Mystics, as well as a regular O.Henry Hotel’s Jazz and Cocktail series, singing jazz standards. She also was a part of the Stax tribute show this summer organized and led by singer/guitarist Sam Frazier for the Levitt AMP Music Series at Barber Park.

Niver delivered a soulful rendition of William Bell’s 1968 “Private Number, channeling Cara Thomas’s sultry ’66 classic “B.A.B.Y,” and Jean Knight’s ’71 hit “Mr. Big Stuff.” The song “really speaks to me on a personal level,” Niver laughs. “I knew I would be able to do a pretty good job with that because it’s so sassy and fun.”

The singer is not averse to doing a regional soul review, but is more focused on the Wild Mystics. “We’re settling on what the sound is because I have so many disparate musical interests, so many styles speak to me,” Niver says. “I’m young enough I’m still trying to land on what I sound like. I really enjoy doing a vast amount of musical styles, but I don’t know where I’m gonna end up yet.

Singing is my favorite thing to do. I want to impart the joy I feel while singing to other people.” Never mind the nibbling goats.

— Grant Britt November 2017

O.Henry 23

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Life’s Funny

Pew Research “Eau-de-toilette” takes on new meaning

By Maria Johnson

Recently, my husband and I

visited some friends at their lake place.

It was a wonderful overnight stay, and our hosts, being generous souls, rolled out stimulating conversation, tasty food, delicious drink, thoughtful walks and — following the general story arc here — a bottle of Poo-Pourri strategically stationed in the guest bathroom.

I did not realize this at the time because I had no reason to “study,” shall we say, the small spritzer poised on the tank.

I did, however, recognize the distinctive Victorianlooking label when I saw a small bottle of Poo-Pourri in a store a few weeks later. Curious, I went home, hopped online and found a load of clever advertisements for the product, which bills itself as the World’s Best Before You Go Spray (www.poopourri.com).

The lengthy ads — which are created by the company’s in-house team, Number Two Productions — feature a prim and proper English lass spouting potty puns and explaining how Poo-Pourri works: You spray the sweetsmelling oil in the bowl; then you go; then the film of Poo-Pourri on the water’s surface supposedly traps the odors; then you flush; then everyone comes out smelling like roses.

Or lemongrass.

Or rosemary.

Or cedar.

Or any of the fragrances imparted by Poo-Pourri’s “essential oils.” Hence the “Unconditional Stink-Free Guarantee.”

I shared this with my husband and pointed out that our lake hosts had set out Poo-Pourri in their guest bathroom, which opened onto a central hallway.

“Oops,” he said. “Didn’t notice.”

Which is fine. I guess. We’ll see if we get invited back. In the meantime, as a sometime hostess, I decided it would be good to test the spray, what with the holidays being right around the corner.

Most houseguests try to be discrete, thank God. They figure out, with remarkable accuracy, which bathroom is farthest from the family room.

This is a gift to be treasured.

The exception here — and this is a real subtlety — would be going in the master bathroom. If you’re not immediate family, don’t go there. I can’t really explain why. It’s just wrong.

Anyway, up to this point the best coping strategies for guests have been using exhaust fans, opening windows, striking paper matches (which have become rare; thanks a lot, health-conscious bars and restaurants), and spray-

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

ing pine-scented air fresheners that billow into adjoining rooms to announce: “Guess who just went in the woods — not?”

Now, apparently, the fog of guilt is unnecessary.

My husband, the engineer,­was doubtful about the effectiveness of Poo-Pourri. What about transit time before splashdown?

What about other emissions? What about toilet paper — it isn’t really submerged, now is it?

Sometimes, being married to an engineer makes life challenging.

There was only one way to answer these questions. I trotted back to the home accessories store. Truthfully, I hoped to find Poo-Pourri’s Secret Santa scent, thinking that if I didn’t like it, I could give it away.

This holiday edition promised “a nostalgic warm blend of vanilla and cinnamon,” a cozy gift sure to embarrass the hell out of any recipient at an office party.

Hint: If your Secret Santa gives you Poo-Pourri, use it. This is similar to when a friend offers you a breath mint.

Alas, the shipment of Secret Santa had not arrived, which left me contemplating Tropical Hibiscus and Original Citrus, neither of which seemed indigenous to a home at the holidays.

I mean, if you’re trying to mask an odor, shouldn’t it be by spraying a more pleasant smell that’s already in the house? Something like Apple Pie, or Turkey Leg, or Yeast Rolls or Cabernet on the Carpet?

In that vein, I settled on Original Citrus because, being the last-minute housekeepers that we are, our house inevitably smells like Lemon Pledge and Windex when guests arrive — and Poo-Pourri is not yet available in the Ammonia-D scent.

Another reason Original Citrus appealed to me is because it contains bergamot, the distinctive ingredient in Earl Grey tea, and that made me feel classy. Marketing goal achieved.

The next morning, I gave it a whirl. I spritzed the bowl three to five times, per the instructions, lingered long enough to read the Poo-Pourri box, and violà.

My bathroom smelled like a lemon-scented sewage treatment plant.

At tea time.

The manufacturer seemed to anticipate this, as I now know from reading the box, which plainly states: “Use in a well-ventilated area.”

In other words: Cover up if you must, but give thanks when it hits the fan. OH Maria Johnson is allowed one column of potty humor a year, so you can breathe easily until 2018. If you absolutely cannot hold your reaction, contact her at ohenrymaria@gmail.com.

November 2017

O.Henry 25

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

The Omnivorous Reader

Words to Ponder

David McCullough’s speeches deliver gentle sermons on the American character

By Stephen E. Smith

“If we are be-

set by problems,” David McCullough wrote in a 1994 commencement address, “we have always been beset by problems. There never was a golden time past of smooth sailing only.”

McCullough’s The American Spirit: Who We Are and What We Stand For has arrived in bookstores at an opportune moment. Whatever your political persuasion, there’s little doubt that we’re in need of inspiring words that suggest where we go from here — and David McCullough is superbly qualified to point us in the right direction.

He’s the recipient of Pulitzer Prizes for Truman and John Adams, National Book Awards for The Path Between the Seas and Mornings on Horseback, and he’s the author of 12 bestselling popular histories. Moreover, McCullough doesn’t shrink from his responsibility as a forward-looking historian, reminding us in his introduction that we live in a time of uncertainty and contention and that we need to recall who we are and what we stand for and “. . .the importance of history as an aid to navigation in such troubled, uncertain times.”

To that end, The American Spirit is a collection of 15 chronologically arranged speeches delivered by McCullough over a 25-year period, most of them college commencement addresses or remarks offered at the anniversaries and the rededications of monuments and historic structures such as the White House, the Capitol, and Carpenters’ Hall in Philadelphia. Using these ceremonies as a platform, McCullough focuses on the contributions

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

of the famous and near famous — John and Abigail Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Rush, Simon Willard, James Sumner, John Quincy Adams, Margaret Chase Smith and JFK — whose spirit and commitment to the nation helped shape our moral core.

McCullough is a believer in the Great Man theory, a biographical approach to history that offers access to a wealth of the inspiring words spoken by the founding fathers and their intellectual descendants. Quotes, memorable and repeatable as they are, are the stuff of thought-provoking commencement speeches — Stephen Hopkins, who suffered from palsy, scrawled his signature to the Declaration, saying, “My hand trembles, but my heart does not”; Margaret Chase Smith stood up to Joseph McCarthy by announcing that she didn’t want to see the Republican Party achieve political victory through “fear, ignorance, bigotry and smear”; physician and patriot Benjamin Rush reminded his fellow citizens that they were in need of “candor, gentleness, and a disposition to speak with civility and to listen with attention to everybody”; and John Adams offered a simple, timely truth: “. . . facts are stubborn things.”

Predictable themes emerge from the collection — the importance of education, the significance of history, the impact of language, and the value of selective reading — and McCullough brings up the oft repeated assertion that we’re raising a generation of ill-informed Americans who are historically illiterate and that it’s imperative that we redouble our efforts to teach our citizens to value their forebears.

But the strength of these essays is also their weakness. Commencement addresses and most dedication speeches are essentially mildly annoying sermons, timely reminders of the better citizens we ought to be. Americans, November 2017

O.Henry 27

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November 2017

unfortunately, have a long tradition of ignoring good advice (jurist Clarence Darrow claimed that no American is absolutely sure he’s correct unless the vast majority is against him). On the other hand, McCullough’s faithful readers will find reinforcement and encouragement in his lofty words. He’s most persuasive, and insofar as preaching to the choir is productive, these speeches succeed admirably.

Not all the essays are straightforwardly instructive. In a 2007 address at Lafayette College, McCullough emphasizes the bonds that have long existed between Americans and the French, connections that are often overlooked in a world where the French chart an impartial course. (We may have changed “French fries” to “freedom fries” when the French claimed Iraq had no WMDs, but events proved them correct.) He reminds readers that the Marquis de Lafayette and the French military were instrumental in winning our struggle for independence and that 80,000 Americans died in France during World War I and 57,000 during World War II. “Time and again,” McCullough writes, “Paris changed their [young Americans’] lives and thus hugely influenced American art, American literature, music, dance, and yes, American science, technology and medicine.”

In a 1994 commencement address at the University of Pittsburgh, McCullough proposed that the university take responsibility for rehabilitating the inner-city, working to eliminate drug addiction, violent crime, racial tensions, illiteracy, homelessness, and the cycle of poverty — the selfsame problems that trouble the country still.

“And why not let it begin here in Pittsburgh,” McCullough said, “this city of firsts, with the University of Pittsburgh leading the way?”

Taking a purely cynical view, it will no doubt occur to readers that The American Spirit will make a thoughtful birthday, holiday or graduation gift, and that McCullough and/or the publisher are in it for the money. After all, the book’s contents were written long before we found ourselves in our present dilemma. But it’s more likely that readers who carefully consider McCullough’s words will take the book in the generous spirit in which it’s offered. As McCullough writes: “Yes, we have much to be seriously concerned about, much that needs to be corrected, improved, or dispensed with. But the vitality and creative energy, the fundamental decency, the tolerance and insistence on truth, and the good-heartedness of the American people are there still plainly.” OH Stephen E. Smith is a retired professor and the author of seven books of poetry and prose. He’s the recipient of the Poetry Northwest Young Poet’s Prize, the Zoe Kincaid Brockman Prize for poetry and four North Carolina Press awards.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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O.Henry 29

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Scuppernong Bookshelf

Read Local

For new books, look no farther than our own backyard

By Brian Lampkin

We are all local occasions of the

universe, or so the poet Charles Olson once insisted.

Charles did a lot of insisting, and in this instance, his insight is inspiring. Greensboro is its own center of the writing universe and the recent spate of new releases by writers inhabiting our environs continues unabated.

After September’s back-to-back releases of The Salt Line

by UNCG’s Holly Goddard Jones and Guilford College’s Mylène Dressler’s The Last to See Me, we have books from Stuart Dischell, Michael Parker, Mike Gaspeny, and Lea Williams just released or coming this month. Of course, there are many others (who I will hear from!), so keep your eyes turned to the local streets for literature to believe in.

November 1: We Who Believe in Freedom: The Life & Times of Ella Baker,

by Lea E. Williams (North Carolina Division of Archives & History, $17).

Ella Baker, who grew up in Littleton, North Carolina, is best remembered for the role she played in facilitating the organizational meeting of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee in April 1960 at Shaw University, her alma mater. With passion and clear understanding, Lea E. Williams outlines the life that brought Baker to this crucial point in U.S. history.

November 3: Re-Write Men, by Michael Gaspeny (Finishing Line Press, $14.99). Gaspeny’s singular voice is a reason to get out of the house and go to the poetry reading. A mix of humor, wry observation and a moving continued belief in the necessity of human connection, his voice wavers over Greensboro in a gravely cackle behind a falling tear for the times we live in.

November 14: Everything, Then and Since, by Michael Parker (Bull City

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Press, $13.95). If there’s a more perfectly crafted short short story than UNCG professor Michael Parker’s “Widow’s Walk,” then I haven’t read it. This collection of stories equally highlights the work of Durham’s great Bull City Press.

Check them both out at Scuppernong Books on November 14 at 7 p.m..

OTHER NOVEMBER NEW RELEASES: November 7: How to Cook Everything Vegetarian: Completely Revised Tenth Anniversary Edition, by Mark Bittman (Houghton Mifflin, $35). Ten years ago, this breakthrough cookbook made vegetarian cooking accessible to everyone. Today, the issues surrounding a plant-based diet — health, sustainability and ethics — continue to resonate with more and more Americans, whether or not they’re fully vegetarian. This new edition has been completely reviewed and revised to stay relevant to today’s cooks: New recipes include more vegan options and a brand-new chapter on smoothies, teas and more.

November 14: Bunk: The Rise of Hoaxes, Humbug, Plagiarists, Phonies, Post-Facts, and Fake News, by Kevin Young (Gray Wolf Press, $30). Awardwinning poet and critic Kevin Young takes us on a tour through a rogue’s gallery of hoaxers, plagiarists, forgers, and fakers — from the humbug of P.T. Barnum and Edgar Allan Poe to the unrepentant bunk of JT LeRoy and Donald J. Trump. Bunk traces the history of the hoax as a peculiarly American phenomenon.

November 21: 30 Years of Swiss Typographic Discourse in the Typografische Monatsblätter: TM RSI Sgm 1960-90, Various Editors. (Lars Muller Publishers$375) OK, just seeing if you’re paying attention.

November 21: The Complete Sookie Stackhouse Stories, by Charlaine Harris (Ace Books, $24). The author who inspired True Blood brings together in one volume the complete short story collection starring Louisiana’s favorite telepathic waitress.

November 28: A War of Gifts: An Ender Battle School Story, by Orson Scott Card (Tor Teen, $14.99). Greensboro’s most widely read writer brings a stand-alone holiday story set during Ender’s time at Battle School. OH Brian Lampkin is one of the proprietors of Scuppernong Books.

November 2017

O.Henry 31

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Papadaddy’s Mindfield

What the Cell ?

Your service provider is here (or somewhere) to drive you crazy

By Clyde Edgerton

You know your phone ser-

ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR

vice provider? The organization that helps you with cellphone matters in their store, a place where the walls are covered with gadgets (like a hard shell case that costs more than your phone), gadgets that you and your children needed yesterday? The place where you — if you ask about your phone bill — are politely taken to a large blackboard with a chalk tray and erasers, or to a blank sheet of paper, and somebody starts politely writing down tiny lists of numbers and explaining the charge for many things, including the data-connection-bluemoon-raythonregulator charge?

That place.

I decided to call the billing department on my cell the other day — the billing people up the chain of command. I wanted to save some time by not going into the place described above. The reason I called was because I got a text from my wife that said, “Please call our service provider. I think they are offering some kind of new discount.”

I called. I got a message that went something like this: “Please enter your nine-digit phone number, including your area code and the six numbers that follow. Si quieres, press four. If you are a robot, say ‘no’ and sing the first verse of ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’ If you are calling about a medical emergency, hang up and dial 911. If you have hemorrhoids and sometimes have pain during a backyard barbecue or while frolicking through a field of flowers, then tell your doctor about Lo-Evorona. You’ll be glad you did, because your doctor may follow your suggestion rather than follow her knowledge about treatment — but remember that during your visit with your doctor, just say ‘Lo-Evorona’ because that’s probably all you will have time to say during your short time with your doctor, who is hurrying to a conference with a drug rep. But while waiting in the doctor’s waiting room, on the other hand, you perhaps had time to write a short novel.”

I started pressing random keys on my cellphone, and on the number 7, I got this: “Because of the recent hurricane, we are experiencing a high volume of water. Stay on the phone while you evacuate. A service representative will be with you shortly.”

I press “Speaker” on my cellphone face and place the phone on the couch.

Some music starts. I continue watching Shark Tank.

A few days later, a service representative comes on the line. “Hello, my name is Indiana. Your phone number please — including area code and the six digits that follow.” (These are the people who 21 years ago invented the possibility of The Art & Soul of Greensboro

reading, on the receiving end of the call, the number of the person calling you.)

I give Samantha my number. She says, “And with whom am I speaking?”

And I tell her. She says, “How are you today?” I say, “Fine, and you?” She says, “I’m doing well. Thank you for asking.”

I think, this might be easy. I tell her why I am calling, and she says, “Let me get your records up in front of me.” I wait a little while and she says, “I see that you have recently received a discount of $7.”

I say, “I’m not sure about that. I recently got a text from my wife that said we might qualify for some discounts.”

“Let me check on that,” she says. “Please hold.” I start to say something, but music begins. The music I’m listening to is the kind of music that if you held a survey among 4 million Americans of every ethnicity, of every social class, of every wage bracket and most occupations, of most ages, heights and weights, each person would, individually and independently, swear that this music I’m listening to now is the most God-awful, worst music they’ve ever heard.

The music plays through the phone on the couch as I watch another Shark Tank and then Naked and Afraid, How I Learned to Gain Weight, and Hanging Out With Your Neighbor’s Spouse. What happens during this time is that the music gets interrupted by spoken lines like this: “Did you know you could reduce your phone bill by up to 50 percent if you rent your car with Thrifty at any stop-over during a Carnival Cruise adventure before Christmas 2017?”

And then, “Thank you for continuing to hold. We are experiencing a high volume of calls because we don’t hire enough operators with our 9-billion-dollar profit margin each month. If you ever have to not wait then we are too lax with profits and our way-cool, wealthy shareholders will fall into a tizzy-fit.”

A little bit of the above may be slightly exaggerated.

The rest is not.

I hang up. Within 15 minutes the phone rings. I answer. A perky automated voice says, “Would you like to take a short survey regarding the service you received in your most recent call to your service provider?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Are you satisfied with your service?”

“No.” “I see,” the voice artfully muses. So artfully that I picture her hand to her chin. “At the tone,” the voice continues, “would you please comment briefly?”

The tone sounds. I start talking and within — it could not have been more than six seconds — I hear another tone and this: “Please listen to your recording and if you are satisfied, disconnect, or press 1 to continue recording.”

As I’m listening to the start of my complaint (which is that Samantha never returned to our first conversation as promised) there is a beep and I’m disconnected. I swear. If I had an old-fashioned phone I’d hang up. Come to think of it, when I did have an old-fashioned phone I could dial “0” and immediately talk to a human being. OH Clyde Edgerton is the author of 10 novels, a memoir and most recently, Papadaddy’s Book for New Fathers. He is the Thomas S. Kenan III Distinguished Professor of Creative Writing at UNCW. November 2017

O.Henry 33

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

The Pleasures of Life Dept.

Hey, Toss Me a Packa Nabs Good things can come in small packages

By Tom Allen

Occasionally, my wife’s

PHOTOGRAPH BY JOHN GESSNER

Georgia family observes Thanksgiving another day that week, depending on when everyone arrives. One year, halfway to Georgia and close to lunchtime, our mini-van pulled up to a gas pump.

A memorable and moveable Thanksgiving feast found the four of us, dining in a convenience store. The menu included the contents of our cooler — chicken salad and Dr. Pepper — along with grapes, pretzel sticks and the Southern go-to snack, Nabs.

If the word “nab” conjures peanut butter sandwiched between orange crackers, chances are you’ve lived below the Mason-Dixon line. The Southern snack has become a staple for mill workers and attorneys alike. Throw a pack into a kid’s bookbag. Toss one to a hunting buddy. Nabs travel well in a golf cart. Lunch? Bedtime? Tear open a pack of Nabs with your front teeth. Wash down with a diet Mountain Dew. That’ll tide you over ‘til supper or you’ll sleep guilt free. Be forewarned — orange cracker crumbs leave sticky evidence. Nibble with caution.

Nabisco (short for National Biscuit Company), known for good eats like saltines and Oreos, introduced its Peanut Butter Sandwich Packet in 1924. “Nabs” soon appeared at soda fountains, filling stations, and vending machines. Fifty years later, Nabisco discontinued production but Lance, a Charlotte snack company, had been cranking out its own version of the salty wafer since 1915.

In 1913, Phillip Lance loaned a customer a few bucks. The fellow paid up with 500 pounds of peanuts, which the inventive Lance roasted and sold for a nickel a bag. Those roasted goobers made money for the entrepreneur.

Two years later, when Mrs. Lance and her daughters spread peanut butter between two crackers, the Lance “Nab” was birthed.

Speaking of birth, my wife lived off Nabs while pregnant with our first child. When waves of morning sickness rolled in, Lance came to the rescue.

A pack of Toast Chee kept things stable until lunch. I can imagine a prescription: “Eat one cracker every hour, for six hours, with sips of ginger ale.”

Cracker competition was fierce, maybe not on the same level as Duke’s

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

and Hellmann’s, but folks definitely had a preference. Tom’s Foods, another Charlotte-based snack company, had their own brand of the salty snack wafer. By acquiring Tom’s in 2005, Lance cornered the market on peanut butter crackers.

The most popular brand is marketed as Toast Chee but most folks simply refer to the iconic Southern snack as “Nabs.” Nip Chee, with a cheddar center, is my favorite.

Snack cracker customers want options, so Lance introduced Toasty — real peanut butter (is there any other kind?) spread between two round buttery crackers. Grape jelly eventually entered the mix — a Toasty PB & J. Lance squared up their rectangular soup and salad staple, Captain’s Wafer, and glued it together with a layer of cream cheese and chives.

Voila! A cracker fit for high tea. Today, a Captain’s Choice variety Pack features the cracker with peanut butter and honey, a grilled cheese-flavored spread and jalapeño cheddar.

For a bit more sweetness (and an elegant scalloped edge) consider Nekot, a sugary wafer spread with peanut butter or lemon cream. A buddy who worked as a Lance driver confirmed the correct pronunciation — “knee-cot.” Urban legend has it that Lance approached the maker of a popular cookie, the Token, and asked to make a peanut butter version. The company declined. Lance made the cookie anyway, reversing the spelling. While Toast Chee goes well with a Coke or Dr. Pepper, the more substantial Nekot dunks nicely in a cuppa joe.

In recent years, Lance introduced new bold flavors, something for the not-so-faint of tongue. Smokehouse Cheddar and Buffalo Ranch find their way into everything from quilted lunch bags to tackle boxes. A whole grain snack cracker was produced for the health-conscious. Packaging advertises protein grams and proudly declares “No Trans Fats.” Lance’s newest offering, the PowerBreak, boasts 12 grams of protein, boosted by peanut butter and a granola-based cracker.

Holiday trips to Georgia remain a family tradition. A Ford Explorer replaced the minivan. One daughter is married, the other in college. But the next time we take a road trip, if someone hankers for a nosh, I’ll toss ‘em a pack of Nabs. Thankfully, variety packs offer something for everyone.

Is biscuits and gravy or pumpkin spice latte the next snack cracker coming down the line? I hope not. Let Cracker Barrel do the biscuits and gravy thing. Leave pumpkin spice lattes to Starbucks. In this season of gratitude, give me family and a traditional meal with all the fixin’s. Just don’t be surprised, when the pigskin rivalries begin, if you find me tearing open a pack of Nip Chee, then dozing off with a happy stomach, a content soul . . . and orange, salty fingers. OH Tom Allen is minister of education at First Baptist Church, Southern Pines.

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O.Henry 35

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36 O.Henry

November 2017

9/18/2017 1:34:46 PM

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

True South

Farewell to the Yankees A Southerner loses that lovin’ feelin’

By Susan S. Kelly

A love affair of 55

ILLUSTRATION BY MERIDITH MARTENS

years is coming to an end. All the symptoms are there: the nitpicking, the tetchiness, the gradual disaffection, even annoyance. Plus the self-searching question — Is it really worth it? — and the go-to from Ann Landers: Am I better off with or without him?

The romance began when I was around 7, and discovered among the Lifes and Times a magazine with a colorful cover drawn or painted — not photographed — with pictures I understood: beach scenes, city scenes, seasonal scenes. Scenes with dogs or kites or sailboats. Most surprisingly of all, there were cartoons inside. Cartoons in an adult magazine?

I was raised on the cartoons, on hardback collections of Peter Arno and Charles Addams and George Booth cartoons. When my parents had parties, I was allowed to eat Spaghettios in the kitchen and pored over those collections so long that I memorized them, and automatically use the punch lines in situations — Put us in the rear, we’re bound to make a scene, and Boo, you pretty creature! — and no one has the slightest idea where the non sequitur came from. When my sisters and I divided items before our family home was sold, the flatware sat there unnoticed while we eyed each other over who would choose the cartoon our father had framed and hung in our swimming pool dressing room: Do you realize there are hundreds of little girls who’d be happy to have a pool they had to clean?

I’m speaking, of course, of The New Yorker.

I have read The New Yorker, or at least parts of it, since I was old enough to read. As with any long-term relationship, we “went on a break,” in today’s parlance, during the partying years of college. But Nancy Bryan Faircloth of Greensboro’s own Bryan family, who saw a future writer in me, gave me a subscription at 20, which continued until her death, by which time I had been mainlining the mag so long that I re-upped and upped and upped. I’ve read The New Yorker on the treadmill and road trips and vacations and by the fire and by the club pool when my children were swimming and friends thought I was deeply weird.

I wallpapered my first apartment bathroom in its covers, as one does when in love. I framed the covers and hung them, checkerboard-like, over the sofa. I have poster-sized prints of a pair of covers (William Steig, illustrator of The Phantom Tollbooth), beautifully framed and hanging in my daughter’s bedroom.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

I have gone to hear speakers based on their articles and stories in The New Yorker, including Calvin Trillin at UNCG. I’ve searched the internet for photographs of its writers (especially the cartoonists). I’ve sat in an otherwise depressing Algonquin Hotel lobby to see if the scalawag wits of the Round Table would speak to me. I’ve written an outraged letter to the editor — How dare you overlook a typo in a John Updike story? I’ve turned down hundreds of pages to look up vocabulary words, scissored sections for my To Keep Forever file, sought out books by and biographies about its writers, from E. B. White to J.D. Salinger and even the editor who decided where the commas belonged. Based on its reviews, I’ve gone to see movies that make me even weirder in the eyes of my friends, and endured my husband’s thinly veiled scorn for the magazine’s self-superiority. I’ve submitted stories — a truly laughable exercise in futility for a publication that receives some 300 submissions a day — perhaps just to get the rejection slip to tack on my bulletin board beside another cartoon; this one of a fellow speaking into a phone: “How about never? Is never good for you?”

And I’ve learned so much. About Shakespeare and sand. About Spanx and Zappos. About Stephen Sondheim and Willa Cather and chefs and foragers and long-distance swimmers and celebrities and scientists and what happens to unsold books. Personal histories about summer camp or losing a child or aging or writing, the tragic childhoods of aristocrats — wide-ranging and informative with a dose of human interest. Topics that appeal to the essentially voyeuristic personality of a writer, or someone who’s pretty good at Jeopardy!

And therein lie the reasons for the thinning of devotion, the dissolution of loyalty, the slow, painful, deliberate bust-up with the mother lode of linguistic perfection. More and more, the beloved covers have morphed to political caricatures and cartoons rather than sprightly, witty, whimsical art. Inside are articles about child soldiers and genocides and uprisings and corrupt leaders and terrorist strategy and the judicial system and failing — well, everything. So that, like texts that go unanswered in contemporary romances, two and three unread issues pile up, where they once were eagerly devoured. Glad anticipation has been replaced with relief, when an issue arrives with zero articles I want to read.

Ever heard this one? “You’re just not fun anymore.”

And so, goodbye luminous literary stars. Goodbye cartoons. Goodbye big words. Instead of a bang or a whimper, there’s just this variation on a Dear John: Dear The New Yorker, No need to renew my subscription. But I’ll never forget you. OH Susan Kelly is a blithe spirit, author of several novels, and proud new grandmother.

November 2017

O.Henry 37

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38 O.Henry

November 2017

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Gate City Journal

Rumor Has It

Whispers of the old Piedmont Hotel from brothel to brew pub

By Antionette Kerr

PHOTOGRAPH BY SAM FROELICH

The current occupants of 348 South Elm

are not bashful about the rumors related to their building.

Well, maybe they were at first. Brewing buddies Jeff Collie and Daniel McCoy stumbled into this story while eagerly hunting for a downtown location in Greensboro’s budding beer district. In Collie’s mind, they needed a spot “with character” to be the brand-new home of the finance guy’s hobby-turned-enterprise. The name? Little Brother Brewing, a tip of the hat to their both being beholden to big sisters. They are also reverent about moments when opening a smaller shop felt like standing on their tiptoes to compete.

These two underdogs needed a place with some oomph.

The beer guys were swept away by the building’s charm and location in Greensboro budding beer district at the corner of Elm and McGee long before they heard the whispers. McCoy, too young to have heard all the murmurs, recalls owners Simon and Lynn Ritch mentioning a tidbit about the hotel once located on second and third stories of the building, but he was not certain it was true. The duo toured what, over the years, had hosted many venues — eateries, shops and formerly an expansive 24-room

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

hotel. After being unoccupied for at least a decade, the bedroom walls have been stripped away on the two floors that at one time featured a long hall lined with eight small rooms. Only rumors are left of those rooms, which housed larger-than-life characters like Boots, Sarah and Eileen. Rumor had it that ladies of the night, procurers and their callers made the intersection notorious from 1920 until the early 1960s. The bustling corner of the world known as Hamburger Square received its name because there were once burger and hot dog joints in buildings on most of the four corners that apparently served up spicier dishes.

But Greensboro is known for fanciful folklore. What makes the Hamburger Square Bordello any different from rumors of Civil War treasurers being buried beneath the streets, the LBB team decided as they hired a contractor and a general manager and started the process of transforming the downstairs into a brewery and tap room.

The planning for the grand opening of LBB was going smoothly; the proprietors felt the urge to develop a theme of Craft Your Own Story and while they were in the midst of planning their grand opening and launching their marketing plan, the brothel rumors roared to reality. Mere months before opening everyone was asking about the brothel thanks to encyclopedia and short story writer Ian McDowell who wrote “A Brothel on Elm Street” for Greensboro’s Yes! Weekly. McDowell uncovered a truth stranger than the fiction he writes through provocative testimonies, old family photos, accounts and detailed police records of the hotel’s more nefarious activities. Past inhabitants such as the aforementioned Boots, Sarah and Eileen took over the building before LBB got its marketing off the ground. “It’s one of these cases where one hears an urban legend for years and years. I’ve been familiar with that building for a long time,” says McDowell. “I would walk downtown to Elm back in the ’80s to go to Acme November 2017

O.Henry 39

Gate City Journal

Comics.” Parts of downtown were a little sketchy then and although the hotel was no longer in operation, McDowell still remembers “working women” hanging out of the windows. “And a bartender told me the brothel story as far back as then.”

The building’s history intrigued the writer so he put out a request for information on social media and reconnected with old friend David

Gwynn, who just so happens to be the greatgrandson of infamous Luther Broadus Coleman, manager of what was once listed in public record as “a house of assignation.” Gwynn, whose mother lived in the hotel with her grandparents, noted that his family was once shy about the story. “We finally got comfortable with calling it the family business.”

Coleman, a procurement specialist of sorts, lost his job at the mill and had to find work during the Depression. “It was a different time,” recalls Gwynn’s aunt who asked if she could go by the alias “Jean.” Jean picks up a couple of photos.

Pictured are two seemingly demure girls. Though they worked for Coleman, they also used to read bedtime stories to his daughters. Gwynn’s mother remembered the hotel where she spent her elementary school years so fondly that she created a storyboard with photos she kept in her sewing room. The two even took a trip to see the abandoned building in the early ’80s before Gwynn’s mother became ill. “I knew Boots, Sarah and Eileen but they were just normal women to us. They had rental rooms on the second floor where Grandmother and Granddaddy lived.” Later, Jean learned people would come to the restaurant downstairs, which was Jim’s

40OHenryOctober17.indd O.Henry November 2017 1

9/15/2017 1:43:16 PM

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Gate City Journal

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42 O.Henry

November 2017

Learn more at www.hospicegso.org/light or call 336.621.2500.

Lunch, a place Jean recalled being well-known for moist buns. She discovered later it was a place where men ordered all sorts of hot dishes in addition to hamburgers. “The third story had rooms where the girls were taken. I remember strange things happening, but I didn’t know they were ‘ladies of the evening.’”

And while none has connected the photos with the women’s real names, police records indicate several complaints filed against Coleman and the property owners. On September 8, 1940, the salesman du jour was convicted of operating a brothel of sorts and given a suspended sentence and a $25 fine. Although the Colemans have recently stepped forward to share their story, they were not alone in the industry. A little over a year later, the Greensboro Daily News reported a raid of 11 hotels “on the eve of the arrival in the city of 17,000 soldiers.” Jean isn’t sure if her family friends were part of that raid.

Jean didn’t suspect anything out of the ordinary, but Gwynn recalls stories from his mother as a child. “I’m probably the only person I know of who has that family history in my background,” Gwynn, the self-described history junkie, says unabashedly. “I think it gives me some Greensboro street cred.”

The folks at Little Brother Brewing aren’t shying away from the story behind the building although McCoy is a bit uneasy with capitalizing on its notorious history by using the term “brothel.” “It certainly makes for an interesting story, but you have to be careful not to romanticize stories from the past that involve people’s suffering and inequality,” he says.

LBB is hosting a women’s poetry performance this month with Speak Up! NC as one of its first events. General manager Brittany Wilson is one of the event’s organizers and she approached the crew at LBB with the idea shortly after the Yes! Weekly article was published. Proceeds from the evening of music and poetry will be donated to Women AdvaNCe, a statewide nonprofit dedicated to empowering women of all ages. Collie offers, “Although Greensboro has a checkered past, stories like this remind us of how far we’ve come and how much further we need to go.”

Meanwhile, the owners of LBB are eager to learn more about the men and women who were a part of the building’s colorful history — drinking in the entire saga — from brothel to brew. OH Little Brother Brewing will host Speak Up! at 7 p.m. on November 3. For tickets and information go to womanadvancenc.org. For more information on the brewery: littlebrotherbrew.com.

Antionette Kerr is a freelance writer, lake enthusiast and poetry lover.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

treating every patient

LIKE FAMILY You should be treated with respect and care when you visit your Greensboro dentist‌ as if you were a member of the family. Trust Dr. Farless to meet your family and cosmetic dentistry needs and provide the comfort and peace of mind you deserve!

Call today to schedule an appointment (336) 282-2868 Meet GrahaM e. Farless, D.D.s.

Dr. Farless was born and raised in northeastern North Carolina on a family farm in Merry Hill. He attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, receiving his B.A. in Biology, and later attended UNC School of Dentistry where he earned his Doctorate of Dental Surgery. Dr. Farless is very involved in many professional organizations, from the Guilford County Dental Society to the American Dental Association. Dr. Farless and his team are committed to technology, continuous education and providing the best care one can get! Outside the office, he enjoys spending time with his wife and 3 boys, playing sports, F3 workouts, hunting, fishing and just enjoying the outdoors.

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

O.Henry 43

Country Sausage

Sausage Dip 1 lb. Neese Sausage (hot or mild) 1 pkg. (8 oz.) cream cheese 1 can Ro-tel Tomatoes and Chilies

Sausage Pinwheels

1 lb. Hot Neese’s Sausage 2 cups all purpose flour 1 Tbsp. baking powder 1 tsp. salt

1/4 cup shortening 2/3 cup milk grated cheese (optional)

DireCtionS: DireCtionS: Brown sausage, drain and crumble.

Add cream cheese and Ro-tel. Heat and stir until cream cheese has melted and all ingredients are mixed well. Serve with tortilla chips.

Combine flour, baking powder and salt. Cut in shortening and add milk. Turn dough out onto floured surface. Roll dough into 18″ x 12″ rectangle. Spread uncooked sausage over dough. Spread grated cheese on top of sausage. Roll dough into jelly-roll fashion starting with the longest side.

Cover and refrigerate one hour. Slice dough into 1/4 inch slices. Back at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. Makes 3 1/2 dozen.

neesesausage.com

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

The Hungry Traveler

Foothills Fare In Yadkin County, you’ll never go hungry again

By D.G. Martin

PHOTOGRAPH BY SAM FROELICH

On the way to see the colorful leaves in the

mountains, many travelers from all parts of North Carolina pass through Yadkin County along U.S. Highway 421 between Winston-Salem and Boone without considering a stop for a meal and a chance to experience a touch of Yadkin’s rich history and culture. The local eateries described below are well worth a visit. Each offers something special: Have a chance to learn about Revolutionary War history; experience the Yadkin cultural scene; eat with the courthouse gang; have lunch with burley tobacco farmers; enjoy seafood or barbecue; or have a meal in one of the happiest eateries anywhere. Note that opening times are always changing so it is a good idea to call ahead.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Battle Branch Café, Huntsville community Battle Branch Café fits my ideal for a local eatery near a big highway. Good food, friendly staff, loyal local clientele and comfortable surroundings. It also has something extra special — a connection to important history. The restaurant’s name gives a clue: It sits near a Revolutionary War site. At the Battle of Shallow Ford on October 14, 1780, a group of Patriots (American revolutionaries) stopped and defeated a company of Tory militia (British Loyalists) that had crossed the Yadkin River at the ford and was on its way to join General Cornwallis in Charlotte. Large mounted illustrations inside the restaurant show battle scenes.

A comfortable homelike fireplace and an open-air feeling greet visitors.

Mrs. Connie Spellman, who has been working there for many years, explains why the atmosphere is so comfortable. “When the Yorks, the original owners, built this restaurant 20 years ago, they made a plan just in case the restaurant didn’t make a go of it. They built the building so it could be transformed into a home with a big living room and fireplace.” No need to do that because the restaurant is thriving under its new owners, Nuri Llanaja and wife Lida. 2505 Farmington Road, Yadkinville;(336) 463-2122; www. facebook.com/battlebranch/

November 2017

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4572 Peeples Road Looking for something different on 3.43 acres with great schools & convenient to all areas of the Triad? Charming & unique 4000sf, 4 bedroom, 3.5 bathroom home with wide plank hardwoods throughout. 4 fireplaces including in the master bedroom. Big eat in kitchen with island, granite, stainless appliances. Master bedroom suite on main with vaulted ceilings & wall of windows. Second master upstairs with fireplace. Bonus & 2-car garage in basement. Large deck overlooks mountain-like setting. $393,000.

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46 O.Henry

November 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

The Hungry Traveler Third Branch Café, downtown Yadkinville The Third Branch Café is a welcome surprise for an out-of-town visitor. In existence for about seven years, it is a part of an ambitious and successful effort by the local arts council to develop a downtown art center. It is not a typical country cooking eatery. Instead of meat and threes, there are bean dips, salads, quiche, quesadillas and other eclectic dishes. But the prices are right, and it is a community gathering place for everybody downtown.

The café adjoins display areas for changing exhibits of artwork from all over Yadkin County. 226 East Main St., Yadkinville; (336) 677-6006; www. yadkinarts.org/our_facility/third-branch-cafe/

Ace’s Restaurant, downtown Yadkinville Across the street from Third Branch, Ace’s small county-seat restaurant serves as a gathering place for lawyers and the courthouse gang, especially at breakfast time.

From the outside it may look to some like a “hole in the wall” eatery. But owners Shirish Patel and his wife Trupti brag about their “quality country cooking.” They offer weekday lunch specials with mashed potatoes, pinto beans, salads, green beans, fried okra and coleslaw, and changing featured meats of fried pork tenderloin, country style steak, fried chicken, potpie and, on Friday, fried flounder. But on some days you can also get beef liver with grilled onions. 225 East Main St., Yadkinville (336) 679-2193

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Jim’s Grill, north of Yadkinville My friend and retired UNC Professor Fred Hobson grew up in Yadkin County. When he was in high school, Jim’s Grill was his crowd’s favorite gathering place. Fred was surprised when I told him Jim’s is still thriving. Not much has been done to it since Fred last visited about 50 years ago.

Located about two miles north of Yadkinville on U.S. Highway 601, it sits by itself close to the road.

Its nearest neighbor is a lush field of burly tobacco.

Long time employee Dana Watts told me that the eatery is covered up with farmers beginning a little before noon on weekdays. Country-style steak and mac and cheese are the farmers’ favorites. But there is a different special each day. 5101 U.S. 601, Yadkinville; (336) 679-7610, www.facebook.com/ jims.grill.country.cooking/?rf=121767177836705

Yadkin Valley Seafood, Yadkinville

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Yadkin Valley began its history in 1985 when Gus Janus, who grew up in the Greek community in Winston-Salem and learned his cooking skills The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

O.Henry 47

Don’t be without power this winter!

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Honeywell 20kw Home Generator Innovative design & prototype testing are key components of our success in “IMPROVING POWER BY DESIGN.” But it doesn’t stop there. Total commitment to component testing, reliability testing, environmental testing, destruction and life testing, plus testing to applicable CSA, NEMA, EGSA, and other standards, allows you to choose Honeywell generators with the confidence that these systems will provide superior performance.

The Hungry Traveler

A season to be

there, came to Yadkinville. He built a small building just off the Yadkinville exit from U.S. Highway 421. He did such a good business serving seafood to locals and travelers that in 1997 he built a new large white building that stands out and is clearly visible on the north side of 421. Billy, son of Gus and his wife, Vivian, recently finished community college and was on the scene when I visited. It was clear his parents have prepared him to take charge should they ever decide to retire. I asked Billy what is his customers’ favorite dish? “Everything,” he asserted, and then said, “It’s probably popcorn shrimp.” 154 Beroth Drive, Yadkinville; (336) 6798191; www.facebook.com/Yadkin-Valley-SeafoodRestaurant-119990264683788/

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Little Richard’s Lexington BBQ, Yadkinville The first question barbecue fans ask is, “Is it the same as the famous Little Richard’s in Winston Salem? Not now, but it once was. Today, however, the Yadkinville branch is part of a group that includes Clemmons, Walkertown, and Mount Airy. It is no longer connected to Richard Barrier’s WinstonSalem Little Richard’s. If that is too complicated, forget the ownership and think about enjoying a Lexington-style barbecue plate or sandwich or something else from an expansive menu. You will find this Little Richard’s in a shopping center setting. It is a little more upscale than the usual old time barbecue shack, but don’t pass it by if you are hungry for barbecue. 916 South State St., Yadkinville; (336) 679-7064; littlerichardsbarbeque.com

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FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQ FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQUES Debbie’s Snackbar, FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQ Hamptonville FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQ FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQ FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQ FINE ART & ANITQUES FINE ART & ANITQUES There are lots of things to like about this small modest place that has been around since 1961. It is just off U.S. Highway 421’s exit 264 and easy to find. The home-style cooking is bountiful, good and reasonably priced. What I like best, though, is that it is a happy place. Its family atmosphere is almost overpowering as cheerful young servers rush in and out of the kitchen area. Debbie’s doesn’t pretend to be anything other than a small diner populated by locals, but I felt very welcome and my smiling waitress made the food taste even better. 3008 Rocky Branch Road, Hamptonville; (336) 468-8114; www.facebook.com/DebbiesSnackbar-175642289113388/ OH

D.G. Martin is the host of UNC-TV’s Bookwatch, a contributor to The Omnivorous Reader column in this magazine and author of North Carolina’s Roadside Eateries: A Traveler’s Guide to Local Restaurants, Diners, and Barbecue Joints (UNC Press). Look for a roundup of his treasured local eateries in Wilkes County in a forthcoming issue.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Barbara Mory “Magical Mystery Keys” 36”x30” • $3,800

664. S. Stratford Road • Winston-Salem Less than 1 mile from Trader Joe’s!

336.765.5919 www.LastersFineArt.com

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

In The Spirit

New Drinking Toys Before the holiday rush, treat yourself to a spirited gift or two

By Tony Cross

It’s official:

Black Friday approaches. Everything on the airwaves and Interweb will be screaming Christmas, and your pockets will bleed out all of your money for your family and loved ones. Even though the commercials start earlier each year, Black Friday truly marks the first day of the month for insanity. Recently, I’ve acquired some new spirits, mixers and toys; I’d like to share some of them with you. Buy these for yourselves before you run out of money spending it on others.

PHOTOGRAPH BY TONY CROSS

Wintersmiths Ice Chest

When I first got into cocktailing, I read a lot. I mean, a lot. I had no other bartenders to guide me through the basics, so the internet, GQ articles from David Wondrich, and a book from the head barmen at Employee’s Only in New York City were my mentors. In the latter, one of the first topics in the Speakeasy book was devoted to ice. On first read, I thought, “This is a bunch of pretentious garbage.” The authors described how important ice is . . . as in it’s the most important ingredient in your cocktail. After rolling my eyes, I finished the chapter, and decided that I wouldn’t knock it until I tried it.

Of course, they were right. Having terrible ice will make a great cocktail just OK, or not good at all. Case in point: I have a friend who lived in a home in Whispering Pines. It was a lovely house, but every time I’d come over and bring my goody bag to make drinks, I’d always bring my own ice.

The water in her house reeked of sulfur. I felt terrible for her dogs’ drinkThe Art & Soul of Greensboro

ing water; it was that bad. If I used the ice from her fridge, for even a simple Moscow Mule, the water would dilute into the Mule mix, and it would make me spit out my drink.

Guaranteed.

Other (big) reasons ice is important is shape and size. Crushed ice is ideal for juleps and tiki-style drinks, but you wouldn’t want it in your whiskey on the rocks. By now, I’m sure most of you have seen spherical ice served in rocks glasses for cocktails and whiskey. I’ve got the molds to make them; they’re pretty much everywhere, and you can definitely grab some online. I’ve made them plenty, but more important, I’ve tried to make them come out crystal clear. Why? When they’re cloudy, it’s because gas is trapped inside the ice. That causes your ice to melt faster, and gives it a higher chance of breaking inside your glass. I’ve tried different methods of achieving clear ice. I’ve boiled water to freeze, double-boiled water to freeze, used highquality water, and stacked my molds covering up the soon-to-be cubes but I never perfected one single see-through piece of ice, cubed or sphere. Until now.

Thanks to Instagram, I saw a comment from a lady who makes fantastic cocktails (and has gorgeous pictures of them to boot). She was marveling about her spherical icemaker. Wintersmiths Ice Chest is a total do-it-yourself ice maker that gives your cocktails the elegance you’d otherwise get from a craft cocktail lounge. Just fill up the container with water (distilled preferably, but not necessarily), put in the top piece, and put it in your freezer. Twenty-four hours later, you’ll have crystal clear spheres.

B.G. Reynolds Passion Fruit Tropical Syrup

I am a big fan of making everything from scratch when it comes to syrups for drinks. Making these by hand usually means it will taste better. Grenadine, orgeat, tonic — these are a few of the many that I’d rather make myself than spend at the store or online. Once you’ve figured out a good recipe, it’s hard to find a bottle of syrup on the shelf that can top your own. There are some exceptions, and this is one of them. I was recently asked to create a Hurricane cocktail to carbonate and put on draft for the new Longleaf Country Club.

November 2017

O.Henry 51

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

In The Spirit I was excited to add my own grenadine to the mix with a blend of rums (including Fair Game Beverage Co.’s Amber Rum). I wasn’t, however, too stoked on doing passion fruit syrup. Time was of the essence, and I knew that I might not have enough time to perfect a syrup that I’ve never tinkered with. Luckily for me, I remembered seeing a Hurricane recipe from NOLA bartender Chris Hannah. In it, he uses someone else’s passion fruit syrup. I ordered it immediately to give it a try, and was happy when it arrived in the mail. I hope you’ll be as pleased as we are. At home, you can use this sweet and tangy syrup for bartender Jim Meehan’s

What matters to you, matters to us

Mezcal Mule recipe: 3 cucumber slices 3/4 ounce lime juice 1 1/2 ounces Vida Mezcal 1/2 ounce agave syrup 3/4 ounce passion fruit syrup 3 ounces ginger beer Muddle cucumber slices and lime juice in a copper mug or rocks glass. Add mezcal and syrups. Add ice, and top with ginger beer.

Pikesville Straight Rye Whiskey I picked up this big boy from the ABC store in Chapel Hill (the one formerly in front of Whole Foods, but now located around the corner at the Food Lion plaza). One of the gentlemen who works there recommended this whiskey out of the two that I picked up (clearly unfamiliar with both).

He told me it was phenomenal, and he was right.

This is almost the way mezcal is the older brother to tequila. It has a ton of wood and spice. If you’re new to rye whiskey, I’d suggest starting with either Old Overholt (very soft, and smooth for a rye), or Rittenhouse (a great bang for your buck rye, with an appropriate amount of spice). Try the Pikesville Rye in this 1890s’ version of a Manhattan.

Manhattan

(credit to The Only William’s 1892 book, cited by David Wondrich in 2007) 2 ounces Pikesville Straight Rye Whiskey 1 ounce Carpano Antica 1 barspoon Luxardo Maraschino liqueur 1 barspoon absinthe 2 dashes Angostura Bitters Combine all ingredients in a chilled mixing vessel. Stir for 50 revolutions (or at least, I do), and then strain into a chilled cocktail coupe. You can garnish with real Luxardo cherries, but I prefer a swath of a lemon peel. Santé! OH Tony Cross is a bartender who runs cocktail catering company Reverie Cocktails in Southern Pines.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Front row (left to right): LuAnn Dove-Ramsey, Private Banker; Pam Beck, Private Banker; Karen Button, Fiduciary Advisory Specialist; Ryan Newkirk, Wealth Advisor; Parrish Peddrick, Senior Wealth Planning Strategist; Fritz Kreimer, Senior Investment Strategist; Kyle Quinlivan, Senior Fiduciary Advisory Specialist

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November 2017

O.Henry 53

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November 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

The Pleasures of Life Dept.

Bel Canto Raises the Roof Celebrating 35 years of ethereal music

By Grant Britt

You might be forgiven if you

PHOTOGRAPHS BY YOUNGDOO CAREY.

mistook the dust sprinkling from the rafters of Greensboro’s Christ United Methodist Church for heavenly manna jarred loose by the magnificent voices of Greensboro’s Bel Canto Company. When all 40 members lift their voices in song, aural and spiritual blessings drop down and uplift members and audience alike. Celebrating their 35th anniversary this year, the company’s mantra is to “entertain, inspire, heal, build community and express that which words alone cannot.”

That takes care of the aural part, but some of the words that get tossed around about Bel Canto are subject to misinterpretation. Nobody seems to be able to agree whether Bel Canto is a style of singing or a style of opera.

“Everything you’ve read is right depending on who’s talking about what,” says Bel Canto executive director Jeffrey Carlson. “Bel Canto opera is a period of opera which encompasses some composers like Vincenzo Bellini, Gaetano Donizetti and Rossini. But Bel Canto is also a school or style of singing that comes out of Italy and emphasizes the beauty of the voice, the flexibility of the voice and purity of vowels. That has a little bit to do with our name, although I’d say that the opera definition doesn’t really matter.” Carlson, who has been on the job for 11 years, says that even though he wasn’t around at the company’s beginning, he’s familiar with the genesis of this Bel Canto company.” The first year the Greensboro Opera company performed, their choir said, ‘Hey, this is a lot of fun, we should do this more.’ So they formed the choir of the Bel Canto company, it came out of that opera chorus.”

But the verbiage can still trip up newcomers. It also has the double meaning of being not just opera, but a style of singing. The literal translation from the

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Italian is “beautiful singing.” “So in all of our tracts, we just talk about it being the literal translation, ‘beautiful singing,’” Carlson says. “All the other connotations and definitions lurk in the background for all the musical aficionados.”

Also lurking in the background is a surprising versatility of subject matter.

The repertoire is not all black-tie, stiff-collar classical. Although the company performs predominantly classical choral music, that designation encompasses everything from madrigals from the Renaissance period, to classical composers. But with this company, when you start trying to define classical, the line starts to blur. “We’re generally classical,” Carlson insists, “but we perform spirituals and gospel music in concerts, occasionally arrangements of pop tunes.”

Billy Joel emerged in the repertoire recently, the company rendering his “Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel),” from ’93’s River of Dreams. “This was a tune that spoke to me,” says Welborn Young, artistic director and conductor of Bel Canto Company since 2005. “Often times I will select repertoire that creates the emotional journey I’m thinking for my singer, my audience to have for each concert, make each concert be overarching throughout the entire season chorally.”

But just because Billy sneaked in doesn’t mean Beyoncé and Taylor and Katie and their pop cohorts are gonna jump in as well. “We are not Glee, we’re not doing show choir arrangements of Lady Gaga or things like that,” Carlson promises. “That’s not who we are.” This season features Bach primarily, a look back at the early Baroque period of music. There is a Brahms piece as well, then a few degrees of separation by inserting a piece by thirtysomething composer Dan Forrest’s arrangement of a Bach tune. “That’s part of our mission,” Carlson explains, “to explore the whole range of the choral repertoire.”

The approach is similar in the group’s selection of spirituals. “We do a bunch of Moses Hogan pieces, ‘Wade In The Water,’ ‘Everytime I Feel the Spirit.’ We do Shaw Parker arrangements of things like ‘Nobody Knows,’ ‘He’s Gone Away,’ ‘Deep River,’ those are things people recognize,” Carlson says.

The company treks up the mountain to Pigeon Forge territory for a choral arrangement of Dolly Parton’s “Light Of A Clear Blue Morning,” Parton’s hillcountry hymn, uplifted and underscored by a thrumming pipe organ chorus of Bel Cantos. “We stretch beyond just the concept of classical or church-oriented repertoire to a broad base of that is not only enlightening but also challengNovember 2017

O.Henry 55

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ing and entertaining,” says conductor Young, who is also director of choral activities and an associate professor of music at UNCG. “Basically, I want [to recruit] people within the ensemble that love to make choral music with other people,” Young says. But loving the material as well as their musical peers and being able to perform it at a high level aren’t the only qualifications for becoming a potential Bel Canto member.

“Besides just beauty of tone and accuracy, I want that experience to show in how they approach their preparation for the music,” Young says. “We typically get five or six rehearsals, then we put on an hour-and-a-half program. So their ability to work outside of our rehearsals and prepare for the rehearsals is vitally important.

That doesn’t mean every applicant has to come out of a prestigious music school, but it does mean having a level of dedication and flexibility.

An applicant with an outstanding ear can often develop what they need to add to the ensemble through listening and observing the scores. “We have a more Western European approach, but we also sing in various styles,” Young says. “I do have singers who are more comfortable in jazz idioms than they would be in singing Bach, and I do have some who are more into folk idioms, but they are flexible enough and love the music enough to align themselves to whatever it is we’re singing.”

Bel Canto soprano Felicia François was a vocal performance major at UNCG, and a member of Young’s choir when she was in school. “I had heard of Bel Canto and seen a couple of his concerts, so when I graduated, I decided to audition,” François says. Her participation in the Bel Canto company provides benefits not listed in her contract. “Being a middle school chorus teacher, I’m spending my whole day doing middle school music, which is totally great. But it’s nice to get an outlet for that creativity, sing some higher level music with some really awesome musicians.” In addition to her Bel Canto appearances, François has performed at the Blind Tiger with Dirty Laundry, a group of UNCG jazz musician graduates, and has also sung backup for Anne-Claire Niver (See page 23).

But for François, even though other gigs might have her focus from time to time, Bel Canto, which she says is the best group she has ever performed with, has her heart, and her soul. “Singing great music and being able to express my musicality and creativity, it’s an escape for me whether either in a rehearsal setting or a concert, however long it is, to take a break from whatever is going on in life or in the world, be in the music for that time, just focus on that, and live in that instead.” OH Shunned by any legitimate vocal organization, Grant Britt makes beautiful singing noises from the confines of his front porch every time there’s a full moon.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Birdwatch

The Bald Eagle Flies Again Though still endangered in these parts, our national symbol is on the rise

By Susan Campbell

Anyone who has had the good fortune

to spot a bald eagle, whether soaring overhead or perched along a waterway, cannot help but be awed by its noble appearance. And to think: This large raptor, the only eagle found solely in North America, narrowly missed becoming our national symbol. Benjamin Franklin lobbied hard for the wild turkey, the only endemic bird species to the United States, but Congress decided on the bald eagle in 1782, as a result of the bird’s perceived fierce demeanor. In actuality, bald eagles are mainly carrion eaters, although they will attack wounded mammals, birds and aquatic animals, as well. They are very opportunistic and will also snatch prey from crows when given the chance.

During the first half of the 20th century, eagles were erroneously and relentlessly persecuted by raptor hunters, often by ranchers who were attempting to protect their investments. They were also affected by metal toxicity as a result of feeding on game containing lead shot. Additionally, during the period of broad scale DDT application, as most people know, the toxin tended to accumulate in carnivores at the top of the food chain. And, as was the case in several bird species, it caused eggshell thinning to the extent that The Art & Soul of Greensboro

eagle eggs broke long before they could hatch.

Bald eagles were declared an endangered species in 1967. Following the ban on DDT and the passage of the Endangered Species Act in 1973, their numbers began to rebound. On June 28, 2007 the species was declared recovered.

Here in North Carolina they are being closely monitored by state biologists.

Although the number of nests and young has been increasing, they are still considered threatened here.

In the Sandhills, there are year-round sightings of individuals, most commonly on our larger lakes such as Lake Surf (Woodlake) or Lake Pinehurst.

Farther north they can be frequently spotted around Falls or Jordan Lake in the Triangle. In February of 2012, O.Henry documented the avid eagle-watching activities at Lake Higgins, Brandt and Townsend (issuu.com/ohenrymag/ docs/ohenry_february_2012/53) in Greensboro.

In mid-winter birdwatchers and endangered species biologists are on the lookout for eagle nests. Bald eagle pairs return to their breeding territories and lay eggs ahead of most other raptors (the exception being great horned owls that begin breeding activities a bit earlier). Their sizable platforms of dead branches and large sticks may or may not be easy to spot. Eagle nests, if they are reused from year to year, will be gradually enlarged but not massive affairs. But newer nests can be well concealed in the top of a live evergreen or large snag.

Eagle young, who typically fledge in April, take three to four years to mature. They will not successfully attract a mate until they have a fully white head and tail. Should you see an adult early in the New Year, keep an eye out for a second bird. A pair of adults may mean there is a nest somewhere nearby. If you suspect that you have found a nest, definitely give me a holler! OH Susan would love to receive your wildlife observations and photographs at susan@ncaves.com.

November 2017

O.Henry 59

Guide to GivinG Established 1980

Hospice and Palliative Care of Greensboro enhances quality of life by providing expert interdisciplinary care, consultation, support and education for those affected by serious illness, death or grief.

HPCG relies on contributions to provide care for the indigent, services for grieving and medically fragile children and bereavement counseling and education for adults. Each year, HPCG must raise more than $1 million to provide these services.

2500 Summit Avenue Greensboro, NC 27410

336-621-2500 www.hospicegso.org

Established 1996

To develop, sustain, and ensure the social welfare, cultural heritage and continuity of the Jewish community through the creation and growth of endowment funds.

Guided by Jewish values of tzedakah (justice), tikkun olam (healing of the world), and klal Yisrael(Jewish peoplehood), the Mission of the Foundation is to provide continuity of financial support to Jewish institutions and programs, as well as community organizations through: the encouragement of Jewish philanthropy; the creation and growth of endowment funds for institutions and programs; the provision of flexible services that aid donors in achieving a broad range of charitable purposes; and the support of humanitarian, educational, social service, health, environmental, arts and cultural programs.

5509-C W. Friendly Avenue Greensboro, NC 27410

336-852-0099 www.JewishFoundationNC.org

Established 1999

Ruff Love Foster Care and Dog Rescue is a no-kill, 501(c)(3) Non-Profit Organization, that is 100% funded by donations and run entirely by volunteers.

Founded in 1999 by Sue Rogers, our mission is rescuing, caring for, and providing all medical treatment and rehabilitation for homeless, abused, abandoned and neglected dogs and finding them loving, forever homes.

The Mental Health Association in Greensboro provides leadership in identifying and addressing mental health needs and serves as an advocate for those dealing with mental health challenges by promoting hope and recovery.

MHAG improves the mental wellness of individuals, families and communities through education, services and collaboration. We are Greensboro’s only peer support recovery organization, with a proven track record of reducing mental health hospitalizations and crises by assisting individuals to manage their symptoms, stay in recovery, rebuild relationships, and pursue life goals such as higher education and employment opportunities.

301 East Washington Street, Suite 111 Greensboro, NC 27401

336-373-1402 www.mhag.org

Established 1966 Established 1961

Eastern Music Festival promotes musical enrichment, excellence, professional collaboration, innovation and diversity through a nationally recognized teaching program, a five-week music festival, concerts and outreach programs.

We do not turn dogs away because of health issues. Our dogs are kept in foster homes, and are spayed/neutered and fully vetted. Donations are 100% tax-deductible under IRS rules. Donate at www.ruffloverescue.com.

Your gift to EMF enhances the quality of life and vitality of our region and touches every aspect of our operations: student scholarships, guest artist compensation, production costs, faculty support, housing and more.

Your donation will help carve new paths in young artists’ lives through scholarship assistance and will continue to bring world-renowned classical music to the Triad.

PO Box 2013 Thomasville, NC 27361

P.O. Box 22026 Greensboro, NC 27420

336-880-5431 www.ruffloverescue.org

Established 1940

336-333-7450, ext. 223 www.EasternMusicFestival.org

We build thriving communities by protecting and renewing our historic and architectural treasures.

Why give: Have you participated in our fun events such as walking tours of Revolution Mill, presentations at Blandwood, or shopping at Architectural Salvage? As the only non-governmental membership organization dedicated to saving our treasured places, we have more than 50 years of experience working with partners and citizens like you to help our city maintain a tradition of historic preservation, adaptive reuse, recycling and tourism. Join us in 2018 for tours of the Hillside Estate and Lindley Park!

P. O. Box 13136 Greensboro, NC 27415

336-272-5003 preservationgreensboro.org

Wandering Billy

The Beat Goes On From hippie days to now, Tate Street keeps on keeping on

I was in 8th grade at Mendenhall

would be a lot more salacious than the truth, trust me.

That evening my mother couldn’t have been more thrilled that I was finally making friends with girls my age, thinking maybe I’d put down those damn comic books and start focusing on the opposite sex. Instead she was horrified when I told her we’d been down on Tate Street. “Who were these tramps you were with?!?” Could juvenile delinquency be far behind — switchblades, tiedyed T-shirts, a tightly wound joint hanging off my bottom lip? (A much more apt description of me today than it ever could have been then.) Naturally, I was forbidden to ever set foot on Tate Street again. So I set foot there practically every weekend, especially after Daedalus, a hip bookseller opened in a rundown, two-story house on Walker, now a parking lot behind the shopping center.

So we met up on Saturday and ventured in a direction I’d never gone, to this seemingly magical, funky plateau at the edge of UNCG’s campus teeming with college kids, high school misfits and newly minted hippies spread out across a grassy knoll overlooking the street. The ’60s were just getting underway in Greensboro around 1970; we always were behind the times, so that Summer of Love, flowers-in-the-hair vibe was palpable.

In reality, there wasn’t a lot going on down there. We leafed through thousands of vintage postcards at The Corner, were too young to get into the Jokers Three at the top of the hill, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World was showing at The Cinema Theatre, no interest in that, so we tried on jackets and hats at Britton’s Guy Leather & Jewelry browsed the tchotchkes at College Shop, then ate at Pizza To Go next to Bi-Rite. I’ll skip the part about how the girls and I ended up in a sixth floor room at the high-rise Hilton Hotel across from Greensboro College. Anything you’re conjuring up in your mind right now

Did someone mention pizza? Charlie Sciabbarrasi and Ray Mascali were two Sicilian-American transplants from New Jersey when they opened the original New York Pizza at the Carolina Circle Mall in 1976, across from the skating rink. Two years later, they opened a second restaurant on Tate in what had been a Northwestern Bank branch. To add a bar in 1979, they leased the vacant storefront next door facing Walker, formerly The Campus Cupboard.

With NYP on Tate’s 40th anniversary approaching, I wandered over to All Fresh Produce off Spring Garden, a side business Charlie started in 1984. You see his trucks all over town delivering farm fresh veggies to the finest restaurants. When I walked into his office, with no advanced notice, I was surprised to see how happy he was to see me after more than 15 years. And I, him.

Of those early days on Tate, when a medium Neapolitan pie sold for $2.75, Charlie said, “It was the only decent place to eat in the area. There was nothing out there, food-wise. Students had the cafeteria and us.” It became generally accepted that NYP had the best pizza in town. As for the bar, “Liquor by

By Billy Eye “Do I want the Seventies to come back? No. The haircuts were terrible. Everyone stank. The food was awful.” — Douglas Coupland, Canadian novelist and artist

in 1970 when a couple of female classmates, who were a little rough around the edges and a lot savvier than I was, asked if I wanted to hang out with them on Saturday afternoon. I said, “Sure, but what are we gonna do?” They suggested Tate Street. “What the heck is Tate Street?”

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

***

November 2017

O.Henry 61

Guide to GivinG Established 1968 Established 1902

To promote the right of every child to a permanent, safe, and loving family.

To conserve and enhance the beauty and ecology of our community through public and private cooperation.

We believe in families. Since 1902, Children’s Home Society has worked to build strong families and communities in North Carolina. Each year, CHS serves more than 20,000 children and families, with services ranging from adoption and foster care to family education to post-adoption support. With help from friends like you, CHS will create even more families. Please consider making a difference in the life of a child with your gift to Children’s Home Society today.

When you connect with our mission to conserve and enhance the beauty and ecology of our community, you gain the satisfaction that comes with contributing to our community. Each year, thousands of volunteers lend their time and energy to our tree plantings, litter cleanups, educational programs, and free garden events. When you connect with Greensboro Beautiful with financial support, you make it all possible.

And because of our 50-year partnership with the City of Greensboro, 100% of your contribution is used for projects, events, and programs. You make a visible difference!

P.O. Box 14608 Greensboro, NC 27415

1001 Fourth Street Greensboro, NC 27405

800-632-1400 www.chsnc.org

336-373-2199 www.GreensboroBeautiful.org

Established 1995

Established 1963

Earlier.org, Friends for an Earlier Breast Cancer Test® has as its mission, finding a new and innovative biological test to detect breast cancer far earlier than is now possible. We are the nation’s only nonprofit breast cancer organization focused solely on this mission.

Goodwill Industries of Central North Carolina, Inc. promotes the value of work by providing career development services and work opportunities for people with employment needs.

Scientific discoveries are dependent on new ideas and moving beyond the status quo. Earlier detection may prevent invasive surgery, minimize treatment and dramatically increase survival chances.

By supporting researchers with promising work to have an opportunity to investigate and discover new data, you and your donations are releasing power that could have been lost from lack of funding.

P O Box 10363 Greensboro, NC 27404

336-286-6620 www.Earlier.org

85 cents of every dollar earned in Triad Goodwill stores supports our mission of helping members of our community find meaningful employment opportunities. Triad Goodwill operates 7 Career Centers in Alamance, Guilford, Randolph and Rockingham Counties. The centers are open to the public and offer job training and placement services - many of which are FREE for the unemployed and underemployed. We put people to work!

1235 South Eugene St Greensboro, NC 27406

336-275-9801 www.ILoveGoodwill.org

Established 1964

To inspire, invigorate and excite our audiences and our artists through the ever evolving art of Classical Ballet.

Donations allow Greensboro Ballet to offer Scholarships, our special needs program (Dancing Above the Barre) and numerous Educational Outreach programs which bring dance to the under-served population.

200 N. Davie Street, Box 12 Greensboro, NC 27401

336-333-7480 www.greensboroballet.org/donate

Established 1982 Commemorating 35 Years of Service

To provide essential food assistance through a network of partners, while educating and engaging our communities in the elimination of hunger and its causes.

Every $1 provides 7 meals Healthy food for families. Nutrition education. Culinary job training and employment. Capacity grants for local partners. Advocacy for North Carolina families. All of this and more is made possible through your gifts of support.

3655 Reed Street Winston-Salem, NC 27107

336-784-5570 www.hungernwnc.org

Wandering Billy

the drink had just been approved, our license was one of the very first in Guilford County. Legal drinking age was 18. Most of the students were 18.

And what do college students do? I rest my case.”

It wasn’t uncommon for professors to meet up with students after class for test prep over beer and pizza. There was a sense of community, as Charlie noted, “With no parking, everyone was within walking distance.”

In the mid-80s, New York Pizza’s $2.50-pitchernight special on Tuesdays and Thursdays was about the only excitement on Tate Street. Music venues Nightshade Cafe and Friday’s had closed a few years before the drinking age rose from 18 to 21 in 1985. Fake IDs flooded the zone. Urban myth had it that NYP was part of a multistate heroin distribution scheme in the 80s. In reality, folks became confused when they read months of headlines about the infamous New York Pizza Connection trial that took place up north but had no local connection whatsoever. Still, the area’s undeserved reputation as a trouble spot was reinforced in the 1990s when, at freshmen orientation, UNCG admonished students to stay away from Tate Street. For all I know they still do that.

By the time I moved back to town in 1994, New York Pizza was still packing them in on Tuesday and Thursday pitcher nights. The young crowd was musically oriented, some of the brightest and most creative people I’ve ever met, not yet jaded by life’s oncoming train wrecks. In the late ’90s, when it was feast or famine for me, Charlie Sciabbarrasi and NYP kept me in strombolis and bourbon during the lean weeks. It wasn’t uncommon for my running tab to be in the hundreds of dollars. “It was a wonderful time actually, I enjoyed every day,” Charlie told me recently. The partners sold New York Pizza in 2001, “I’m very proud. I had fun with it, but this other business [All Fresh] needed more involvement in it. Also, after 25 years, I moved on to something more relaxing, you know?”

NYP changed hands again this summer and the latest caretakers of Greensboro’s cultural mosh pit, Orience LLP, are enthusiastic about carrying on this 40-year institution. There’s live music again on Tate, deejays, bohemian bartenders and cheap draft beer on Tuesdays, for old times’ sake. “At night the restaurant turns into a venue, the most eclectic mix of talent in Greensboro,” bar manager Jeff Losh enthuses. “A lot of Heavy Metal but on Jam Nights, we have a band called Jeb Trio that features members of Imperial Blend.” The best part for local talent and touring acts is they get pizza, PBR and 100 percent of the door. “The new owners are amazing. I’m really excited,” Losh called out as the bouncer tossed me out the door and over the curb.

What do you mean I can’t run a tab? OH Billy Eye is O.Henry’s favorite — and only — Man About Town.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Fall & Winter Specials for North Carolina residents, learn more at grandover.com/backyard grandover.com | 336.294.1800 | 1000 Club Road • Greensboro, NC 27407 | Just off I-85 & I-73 Get comfortable, you’ll be seeing a lot more of us in the future.

November 2017

The Neighbor’s Pears The last of the pears dot the neighbor’s yard, their taut green skins giving way to brownish pulp. Yellow leaves flung from wind-tossed branches scud across our lawns like golden clouds — the sun’s slim rays a decoration, a bit of gilding with no real warmth. It seems the time has come when all of life seeks its place before the soil hardens beneath a skein of frost and pale blue skies turn gray.

Even pear trees go dormant, dreaming of budburst and blossoms — little green bells swinging again, from every limb.

— Terri Kirby Erickson

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Fickett’s Charge Five friends, a thousand paintings and the extroadinary legacy of Greensboro’s finest street artist

By Maria Johnson • Photographs by Lynn Donovan

I

t was a twist worthy of Maggie’s creativity.

There was a guy named Mike at the dog park. He had a basset hound, Buster. We got to be friends.

Mike and I did, too.

One day in 2014, as our pups snuffled around, Mike mentioned that he’d been helping an older lady who lived next door to him. She was having memory problems. She was an artist.

“What’s her name?” I said.

“Maggie Fickett,” he said.

My mouth dropped open. If I’d been running, I could have caught a Frisbee in my teeth as easily as any dog.

Thirty years before, as a newbie to Greensboro, I’d wandered into Maggie Fickett’s booth at a street fair. It was probably at Fun Fourth or CityStage, a now-defunct fall festival.

In any case, Maggie was minding a stall lined with her watercolors. As the daughter of an artist, I’d been taught to appreciate a keen eye and a quick hand. Here it was, right in front of me. A painting of Elm Street in downtown Greensboro caught my eye. It cost more than I wanted to part with, given my reporter’s salary. I exchanged greetings with the ash-blonde lady in the booth and left without the painting.

I regretted not buying that piece for a long time, but it did not diminish my fondness for Maggie’s work. I kept up with her loosely, through word of mouth

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and sightings around town. She was known for working en plein air, or on location. It wasn’t unusual to see her perched on a folding stool, sketching in a park or at a construction site.

She was a favorite subject of photographers at the News & Record where I worked. They often turned in Maggie’s picture as a stand-alone feature photo.

It usually fell to a reporter who worked nights to write a cutline about the photo while weaving in, not very subtly, the next day’s weather forecast.

“Fickett spent Wednesday afternoon in Lake Daniel Park in Greensboro painting,” said a cutline that accompanied Maggie’s picture in January 1986. “‘When the weather gets good, I’ve got to get out and do something,’ she said.

But the mild weather will end today with a high only in the low 40s . . .”

I saw Maggie’s work around town, in galleries and offices. Her prices climbed, and so did my appreciation for what she was doing. I came to regard her as the finest artistic chronicler of daily life in Greensboro in the waning years of the last century.

It wasn’t just how she painted, with a looseness that signaled deep study, but what she painted, which was basically everything she saw.

She preserved the unvarnished truth. Her streetscapes contained landmark buildings, yes, but also fire hydrants, and telephone lines, and birds, and traffic signals and campaign signs. There, on display, were all kinds of people, fashion, cars, seasons and animals.

Where other artists might edit out the “junk,” Maggie understood that reThe Art & Soul of Greensboro

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cording the details was essential to recording the era. She froze time, but her work wasn’t frozen. It was fluid, full of life.

And yet, in the midst of the hubbub, her paintings were balanced, harmonious.

I might have been the biggest Maggie Fickett fan who didn’t own a Maggie Fickett painting.

Mike’s aside at the dog park brought all of that back to me.

I was happy that Maggie had a neighbor as trustworthy as Mike. Others had taken advantage of her kindness and her checkbook. Mike looked out for her. He communicated with Maggie’s nephew and wife in Maine.

Several months later, in April 2015, Mike broke the news.

Maggie, who’d never married or had children, had left Greensboro. Her nephew, Bob, and his wife, Debbie, had moved her back to Maine, where Maggie had been born 84 years before. Bob and Debbie were coming to Greensboro to finish cleaning out Maggie’s house before selling it.

Would I like to meet them?

Absolutely.

It was pouring rain when I rolled to a stop in front of Maggie’s brick bungalow on Mayflower Drive near UNCG. Mike was there. So were Debbie and Bob. So was Lynn Donovan, an O.Henry photographer with a deep knowledge of the Greensboro arts scene.

The house was musty and smelled of cats, Maggie’s companions for years.

It was a tired house, a dated house, in the way that the homes of the elderly often become. Also, the place was being dismantled, so it was half-dressed, a

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state that always embarrasses me a little, as if I’ve walked in on someone stepping out of the shower.

Bob and Debbie had already taken the art they wanted to keep. They would stash the rest in a storage unit while they figured out what to do with it.

“The rest” amounted to more than 1,000 pieces. They were scattered about, stacked on shelves, on tables, in closets. Some of the work was framed. Most of it was unframed.

Hundreds of unsold prints were sealed in plastic. They depicted iconic Greensboro places: the F.W. Woolworth store downtown, home of the 1960 sit-ins; Yum Yum Better Ice Cream and Hot Dogs; War Memorial Stadium; Ham’s restaurant on Friendly Avenue; the Boar and Castle drive-in; West Market Street United Methodist Church.

We thumbed through Maggie’s original work, hundreds more pieces. Like The Art & Soul of Greensboro

the pulpy paper they were painted on, her renderings were rich to the touch and to the eye.

Flipping through her work was like taking a tour of Greensboro, with recognizable homes, streets, parks and gardens. Her still-life paintings juxtaposed flowers, vegetables, bottles, and knick-knacks, some still visible in in the house.

There, too, were paintings of places we did not recognize — beaches, city skylines, mountain valley farms, woody hillsides. And cats. Lots and lots of cats.

One of the cat paintings, an unframed watercolor on paper, stopped me.

It showed two felines, both black and white, lounging in the folds of a red throw. The little leos were curled, facing each other. The background was impressionistic. The cats were sharper.

The thing that arrested me was a flap of onionskin paper. Maggie had used masking tape to attach a scrap of onionskin to the edge of the sketch paper. On the underside of the onionskin, she’d rubbed a graphite patch with the broad side of a pencil. On the top of the onionskin, she’d traced the contours of one cat’s face, applying pressure to literally make a carbon copy. She hadn’t been happy with the cat’s original face, and she wasn’t going to quit until it fit her The Art & Soul of Greensboro

vision of what it should be — or at least got closer.

That told me everything I needed to know about Maggie as an artist.

“That’s Jimmy and Emmett,” Debbie said, identifying the father and son that Maggie once owned. When she moved, she was down to one cat, Shadow. Mike was taking care of Shadow.

I made my case to Debbie quickly. I wanted to do a story about Maggie and her art and what it meant to Greensboro. But where to start?

I couldn’t interview Maggie, and it would be hard to grasp the scope of her work without sorting through the brimming gallery of paintings she left behind.

Later, Debbie and I made a few calls to local organizations. No one wanted the job of cataloging Maggie’s work.

So a few of us made a pact. We would go through Maggie’s work in storage, describe and record what we deemed the sellable pieces, then turn the ledger over to Maggie’s family, hoping that — when they found someone to dispose of it — Maggie would get her due, artistically and financially.

We were quite a team, Fickett’s Charge. We consisted of her devoted neighbor, Mike Decker; photographer Lynn Donovan and her husband Dan; my dear friend and former colleague Jim Schlosser, who’s a walking encyclopedia of Greensboro history; and yours truly.

We met a dozen times at the storage unit, working for a couple of hours every time, usually on a weekday afternoon.

We learned a lot in those visits, chiefly that we all enjoyed each other and Maggie, too. She made us laugh. She had a delicious sense of humor. Sometimes, she jotted witty comments beside her preliminary drawings.

Her satirical posters were a hoot. One depicts the evolution of women’s fashion as a circle, starting with a cave woman wearing a leopard skin, progressing through women in corsets and pencil skirts and business suits, cycling all the way back to a modern woman in a leopard dress and platform sandals.

The two leopard-clad women stand face-to-face, regarding each other with looks that say, “Don’t I know you?”

Sometimes, we laughed at things that Maggie didn’t intend to be funny, but that probably would have tickled her, too.

One example was a series of the same scene — the taillights of a car on a highway. It was painted from the viewpoint of a trailing car.

Maggie tackled that scene over and over and over again. In different lights.

In different colors. In different styles. In different levels of detail.

Delirious from the repetition and numb from the meat-locker temperatures, we cracked up with laughter on the day we came across those paintings.

“Really, Maggie?” we teased aloud. “Who the hell was in that car ahead of you?!”

Piece by piece, we grew to love Maggie’s spirit, her sensitivity, her work ethic.

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She painted or drew every day. She once told her dear friend and fellow Greensboro artist Jane Averill that she thought she might have Attention Deficit Disorder. She couldn’t focus, she told Jane, unless she was drawing or painting. Art delivered Maggie, and she gave in to her muse, which made beautiful things happen between her eye and hand.

Our respect for Maggie filled in, like glue, between the biographical bits of her life we already knew — and those we would come to find out.

A child of the Great Depression, Margaret Ellen Fickett was born in South Portland, Maine, in 1930. Her parents were farmers. They directed most of their attention to their son, Robert II, Maggie’s younger brother and only sibling. Maggie’s early life was difficult.

“It was just a very, very harsh, cold family,” says Debbie Fickett, who’s married to Maggie’s nephew Bob. Maggie knew at a young age that she was an artist, but her family had little use for art.

After graduating from high school, she worked in a Catholic hospital, prepping slides for a pathologist. The nuns at the hospital found out about her artistic ability. They encouraged her to attend fine arts school.

Maggie’s father refused to pay for a fine arts education, but he agreed to pay for commercial art school so Maggie could get a job. He took her to Boston and left her in a basement apartment.

She had one year to make it, he said.

Maggie was on her own. She might have been emotionally starved, but she had been dropped in a visual Valhalla, and she feasted her eyes on Boston.

The macro and the micro enthralled her. She sketched and painted architectural details – cornices, iron railings, bay windows, columns, steps – as well as wide-angle views of Boston Harbor, Boston Common, Boston Public Garden, Beacon Hill and the Charles River.

She finished the School of Practical Art and worked as a commercial artist in Boston, but she didn’t enjoy it. She sought refuge in her days off, wandering the streets with pad, pencil and paint. She honed her skills by taking more classes at the Museum of Fine Arts and the Massachusetts College of Art. She played with different styles. At times, her work appeared cartoonish. At others, abstract or impressionistic.

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

She experimented with acrylics and oils before settling into the medium that would define her work: watercolor.

“I enjoy working in WC because its light weight and fast application are very well suited to my temperament,” she wrote years later.

She painted scenes for a greeting card company. She worked at a Boston ad agency for 15 years. Her sketchbooks, dotted with self-portraits and snippets of herself, such as a curled hand holding a cigarette, suggest that she lived alone during most this time, but she was not without company. Lithe and blonde, with crackling blue eyes, Maggie dated several men, including a fellow from her hometown.

They were engaged for a while, but he was too quiet, she told friends. When she asked him why he spoke so little, he told her it was because she had a mind like a steel trap; she remembered everything he said.

His answer did not inspire confidence. Maggie gave back the ring.

Other developments pushed her out of Beantown.

“After being evicted several times to make way for condominiums in Boston’s Back Bay, I quit the job and came South at the suggestion of a friend here,” she wrote in one of her sketchbooks.

Driving a car packed with a sedated cat and her belongings, Maggie landed in Greensboro in May 1979.

“Didn’t know what I would do, but knew it wouldn’t be commercial art,” Maggie wrote. “Once I discovered Old Greensboro, I got the urge to do street scenes again . . .While working there, I was approached by a merchant who asked if I would do a watercolor of his home. This opened a whole new field for me . . .”

Thanks to Bob Blumenthal, who owned Blumenthal’s clothing store, Maggie had found her bread and butter: preserving private dwellings on paper.

Her patrons became her friends and champions, touting her work to others, who hired her to paint their own homes.

Maggie briefly considered leaving Greensboro. About a year after she arrived, her former employer, the Boston ad agency, wanted her back. She was tempted, but Greensboro had a lot to offer. She felt safe here – she’d been mugged twice in Boston – and people recognized her on the streets. They called her by name. It meant a lot to someone who was plagued by self-doubt.

She stayed and painted a new life for herself.

Her career rested on house portraits in Greensboro’s toniest neighborhoods: Old Irving Park, Starmount and Sunset Hills. She worked in Jamestown and High Point. Often her clients had second homes, and they The Art & Soul of Greensboro

hired Maggie to paint those, too.

Known for refusing to edit the gritty details out her street scenes, Maggie obliged her house-proud patrons.

“I can take out telephone poles and wire,” she told an interviewer. “I can change the seasons, put blossoms on the trees.”

She recorded landmark public buildings, too.

Occasionally, she painted a building that had been demolished, using pictures as her guide, but she wasn’t terribly interested in painting long-gone structures. The buildings she painted would be historical soon enough, by dint of development or disaster, she believed.

In 1981, fire confirmed her approach, gutting the Carolina Theatre on South Greene Street. The shell of the building survived. The interior was overhauled. Maggie made a print of the theater to coincide with its reopening the following year.

She captured South Davie Street in 1984, a year before a fire ravaged the area. She painted the George C. Brown & Co. plant, a cedar mill, before the complex ignited in 1997. She stuck to the present day while it lasted.

“I prefer to work on location and endeavor to catch the fleeting moment,” she wrote in a sketchbook. “Very often an unsuspecting pedestrian wanders into my scene and . . .”

Maggie immortalized the bystander. Typically, she sketched on location and trundled her pieces home, to a rental house on Spring Garden Street, to finish them.

“Although my scenes take two or three days to complete, I try to convey the feeling of spontaneity,” she wrote.

Often, she sold two versions of her landmark scenes: black-and-white prints of her pen-and-ink drawings; and hand-colored versions. She charged $10 for the plain prints, and $30 to $50 more for hand coloring, depending on the complexity of the subject.

She sold her work through the Greensboro Artists’ League, galleries, inhome shows and exhibits in office hallways.

Jim and Diane Stanley decorated the walls of their accounting firm with what they called a “Greensboro Collection,” local scenes by several artists: Wendy Wallace, Bill Mangum, Dale Gallon, Larry Johnson, Craig Hyman, Maggi Clark, Allan Nance and others.

Fickett’s work, more than 40 pieces in all, formed the foundation of the Stanleys’ 100-piece collection.

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“Her style was so easy,” says Diane Stanley.

And portable.

Maggie left Greensboro in 1986, moving to coastal Wilmington, possibly to follow a man. She drew a light-hearted postcard to announce the move. The card shows Maggie in sunglasses, on the beach, surrounded by four cats. A paintbrush is tucked behind her right ear.

“WE’RE MOVING!,” the postcard says. “Our new home will be 501 S. Front Street effective 6-30-86.”

Two years later, she came back to Greensboro alone. Debbie Fickett guesses that there could have been another broken engagement. Maggie, a model of New England reserve, divulged little to family and friends.

She soothed herself with art.

“It was her escape,” says her friend, Jane Averill.

Old Greensborough, the historic area around South Elm Street between McGee Street and Gate City Boulevard, was Maggie’s favorite stomping ground. Southern Living magazine wrote about the district in March 1992.

Maggie was the lead.

“I like to work on Sundays when there isn’t much traffic,” she told the writer.

“Just me and the street.”

The changing face of downtown fascinated her. Wherever cranes swung wrecking balls and hoisted girders, Maggie was sure to be nearby.

She captured the construction of a second tower at Jefferson-Pilot headquarters, now a part of Lincoln Financial Group. She caught, in progress, an addition to the Greensboro History Museum. She recorded the birth of the downtown Marriott hotel.

She resumed painting homes, including her own. After returning from Wilmington, she bought the bungalow on Mayflower Drive. She found inspiration in every corner.

Outside, she painted her garden, her home, her neighbors’ homes.

Inside, she painted her cats, her kitchen, the views from her windows and The Art & Soul of Greensboro

doors. A night owl, Maggie worked into the wee hours. The snowy screen of her rabbit-eared television kept her company.

Before screen shots were a thing, she captured Aretha Franklin. And Diahann Carroll. And people in courtroom reality shows. “Hootchie Mama (judge’s words)” Maggie wrote under the rendering of a provocatively dressed woman.

Everything was fair game to Maggie. What others might express in writing or by telling a story verbally, Maggie communicated in art. She talked in pen, pencil and watercolor.

When she traveled to Bermuda, she spoke of sun-bleached walls and impossibly blue water. Virginia was patchwork farms laid across valleys like quilts; Seagrove was kilns tucked under sloped sheds. In Maggie’s vernacular, Burlington was the carousel; Graham, the movie theater on Main Street; Winston-Salem, R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Buildings. And Pinehurst? Not the golf courses that typically come to mind but horses that circled the harness track.

Her friend and patron, Greensboro developer George Carr, drove her to Pinehurst to capture the trotters.

“I liked the way Maggie could create a good image without it being too architecturally perfect,” Carr says. “I never wanted to use another artist after her. She would capture the relevant things that you didn’t know where relevant until you saw her art.”

Maggie pushed herself to improve, even when most people considered her accomplished. In preparation for a watercolor class, she filled out a survey assessing her skills. She rated herself strong in realism and description. She wanted her work to be simpler, looser, more painterly.

The survey ended by asking the students what their goals were. Among the many choices were “sell paintings,” “win an award,” and “produce paintings I find satisfying.”

Maggie checked only the last one.

No one who knew her would have been surprised.

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If Maggie had enough money to live on, she considered herself a success.

Her art came first. The rest of her life molded around that. She lived simply.

On Sundays, she attended mass at downtown’s St. Benedict Catholic Church.

She ate tuna fish, noodle casseroles and vegetables from her garden.

She splurged on tickets for the symphony, where she sometimes sketched right over the program notes, and on clothes from consignment shops. She gravitated to denim skirts, Bohemian tops and purses that did not match her shoes.

“She wanted funky clothes, nice funky clothes,” says her friend Jane Averill.

Maggie’s free style was an extension of her values. Her inclination was to nurture and let be. She fussed at her neighbor, Mike, when he mowed over flowering weeds in her yard. She paid for ballet lessons for Debbie and Bob’s daughter. She donated to her church, to firefighters, to St. Jude Children’s Hospital, to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

Toward the end of her years in Greensboro, she became an easy mark for scammers.

She knew she was slipping.

She left a note for a friend who stayed with her.

“I want to apologize for not being fully ready for your arrival tonight. As you and everyone knows by now, my memory has gone down the road and around the corner. Much to my dismay,” she wrote.

Her fender benders mounted. She missed appointments. She lost weight because she forgot to eat. Then came the calls from police saying that Maggie had been found acting confused at a grocery store or gas station.

Maggie had always been a little scatterbrained, like many artists, but finally it dawned on her relatives and friends that she had dementia.

She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. A doctor said that Maggie should not be driving. Maggie was angry. She told her friends to mind their own business. She was determined to drive. Her friends hid the keys and took

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the distributor cap from her car’s engine. Maggie started walking. She drifted for miles, unable to find her way home. She wouldn’t stay in the house.

It was time.

Mike, her neighbor, and Jane, her friend, cried as Debbie drove away with Maggie that June.

By the time they got to Maine, Maggie had forgotten what Greensboro was.

She sketched the whole way.

She seems happy today, in the assisted living center that cares for people with memory loss. Whenever Debbie appears, Maggie stares at her.

“Maggie! It’s wonderful to see you!” Debbie will say.

Maggie, now 87, always breaks into a smile.

She enjoys gardening on the grounds, puttering in special planters that stand waist-high. She dresses up for parties. From time to time, a night nurse on the Wyeth wing — named for one of Maggie’s favorite artists, Andrew Wyeth — helps her to draw while the other residents sleep.

As darkness deepens, a light shines in Maggie’s room. OH Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry magazine. She can be reached at ohenrymaria@gmail.com.

Art for Art’s Sake

When it comes to the art that’s cached in Greensboro, Maggie’s family would like for a college or nonprofit group to show and sell the works, with most of the proceeds going to create an art scholarship in Maggie’s name.

They’d also like to see some of Maggie’s paintings and sketchbooks archived here.

“We want her life’s work to create more art,” says Debbie. “That was so important to her, that the world be filled with art.” Debbie Fickett can be reached at sebago14@gmail.com. —M.J. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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Patron Saint of The Farm How an unheralded pioneer of women’s golf created a life of meaning and joy

By Jim Moriarty

C

harlie Griffin hadn’t given up golf, exactly; he’d just taken a 30-year sabbatical. Senior advisers at the World Bank — his last position was as the director for Human Development in Eastern Europe and Central Asia — don’t generally travel with yardage books in their back pockets. In an effort to reboot his game in retirement, Griffin booked a lesson with Joy Bonhurst at Clubgolf Performance in the Maryland suburbs of Washington, D.C. In their get-to-know-you conversation, Bonhurst asked Griffin where he learned to play. Griffin explained that his aunt taught him the game when he was very young.

“Griffin,” thought Bonhurst. “Aunt” thought Bonhurst. “You must be Ellen Griffin’s nephew.” Guilty as charged. When Griffin stopped at the desk to pay for his lesson, Bonhurst spoke up. “Be respectful of this guy,” she said to the man at the cash register.

“He’s from golf royalty.”

Ellen Griffin passed away over three decades ago at the age of 67 following a years-long series of surgeries, 16 in all, the first few for cancer, the rest to treat chronic Crohn’s disease. She tossed in a pair of strokes along the way. After the first one she gave up smoking her Raleigh cigarettes. After the second one she taught herself Spanish. “I don’t believe I’m going to be blotted out when I die,” she once told author Liz Kahn. “But it’s a new experience, and no one knows about it, so why worry?” She died in October of 1986 with the Major League Baseball championship series on the TV in her room at Moses Cone Hospital. Blotted out? As John Wayne said in Big Jake, “Not hardly.”

Blowing the dust off the accolades and achievements is a futile exercise in understatement, even if it were possible to touch all the bases. The Ladies Professional Golf Association’s annual teaching award is named the Ellen Griffin Rolex Award. The first-ever recipient in 1989 was another member of golf royalty, her close friend Peggy Kirk Bell. Together they brainstormed the Golfari name and concept that became a 60-year plus staple at Pine Needles Lodge and Country Club in Southern Pines. Griffin created the National Golf Foundation’s Educational Services Program and was the LPGA’s Teacher of the Year, both in 1962. Ten years before that she and Betty Hicks, co-authored the Golf Manual for Teachers, an indispensible tool of its time for college golf instructors. And, in 1944, along with Hicks and Hope Seignious, Griffin was one of the founders of the Women’s Professional Golf Association, a precursor to the LPGA. The WPGA was launched using cotton money supplied by Seignious’ father, but its eyes were bigger than its stomach. It fostered a fledgling winter tour in Florida in ’45 and published a monthly magazine, The Woman Golfer, in ’46 and ’47 with a newsstand price of 25 cents — assuming you could find it on a newsstand — aided by Smith Barrier, a former sports editor at the Greensboro Daily News. And, though the WPGA surely wasn’t the sole motivating factor, the first U.S. Women’s Open was played in Spokane, Washington, in ’46. The time was ripe for something, just not the WPGA. It lacked three things: the uber promoter Fred Corcoran; the uber female athlete Babe Zaharias; and the not-so-uber but nonetheless reliable money of Wilson Sporting Goods, which came hand-in-glove with Nos. 1 and 2. The 13 LPGA founders (14 if you add Peggy Kirk Bell, which the founders always did) coalesced in ’49. That the LPGA had picked up the baton as the WPGA’s well ran dry bothered Griffin not a whit. She’d never intended to be a nomadic playing professional. She was a teacher, pure and simple. And therein lies the magic.

To say that Ellen Griffin was incorrigibly optimistic would be like saying a golf ball was determinedly round. It was simply one of her properties, like the sleight of hand tricks she pulled on kids of all ages. “She was one of those people that just affected your thinking and your feelings about yourself without directly talking about it,” says sports psychologist Dr. Bob Rotella, who met Griffin through another respected woman teaching professional, DeDe Owens. “We

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Griffin studying at Woman’s College

Griffin was the catcher, far right

Griffin is the archer third from the left November 2017

O.Henry 79

Her book Golf Manual for Teachers was the industry standard brought her to the University of Virginia a couple of times to do clinics and everyone just loved her. She not only loved teaching players, she loved teaching teachers of players. She just had an incredible ability to make the game really simple. She had that knack of making you feel good.”

Her nephew, Charlie, lived with Griffin while he finished high school in Greensboro in the late ’60s, ultimately on the path to degrees at the University of Iowa, UNC-Chapel Hill, Duke and then the World Bank. “She was a freethinking, inventive, creative saint, and she showered all of that on me for three years,” he says. “It was just infectious. Her method was Socratic. She was always asking questions so she made a real pest of herself. Ellen was like the most annoying saintly person you’d ever want to be around. She never left you alone.”

The oldest of three children, Ellen’s younger brother Charles became a physician in Dyersville, Iowa, and outlived her. A second brother, George, 10 years younger than Charles, was a Korean and Vietnam War veteran with 20 years in the Army and Air Force, combined. He died in 1977 at the age of 46.

Her mother, Helen, was a niece of J. Edgar Hoover. Her father, Charles, was from Snow Camp, North Carolina, the seventh child in a family of 17. He retired with the rank of colonel after 39 years in the U.S. Army, was a veteran of both World Wars, suffered shrapnel wounds to his legs, was awarded a Purple Heart, survived a mustard gas attack, carried an embarrassing tattoo on his left arm — a basket of flowers with “Mother” written underneath — was the powerhitting catcher on the 29th Infantry baseball team at Fort Benning, Georgia, an expert rifleman and one of the best golfers at any base where he happened to be assigned. He saw his 7-month-old daughter for the first time when he returned from France at the end of World War I. That daughter found him behind his trailer in Level Cross, North Carolina, where he suffered a heart attack while shooting mistletoe out of a tree and died at the age of 58.

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Between the World Wars, when the family was based in Georgia, Ellen’s father took her to a local golf professional, who gave her a cut down 2-iron with a hickory shaft, which she used to great effect on Fort Benning’s parade ground. “I was lucky my father was in the Army because we could open the golf course every Sunday at 6 a.m. He played 18 holes with me, then took me for a chocolate milk, after which I went to church, and Dad played golf with his men friends,” Griffin told Kahn in The LPGA: The Unauthorized Version.

Her brother Charles, whom everyone called June, was pressed into service as a caddie. “My dad taught Ellen to play golf when she was 11. He taught me to caddie when I was 9. I was the original double-bagger on Sunday,” he said at Ellen’s 2002 induction into the LPGA’s Teaching and Club Professional Hall of Fame.

Once Ellen entered Woman’s College of the University of North Carolina, now UNCG, part of her never left it, though she ultimately did.

She entered in 1936-37, graduated in 1940 and taught physical education at the university straight through to 1968, with the exception of her brief stint at the National Golf Foundation. One of her students was Annette Thompson, who grew up on a farm in Jackson Springs, was part of a graduating class of 26 at West End High School, and would receive the Ellen Griffin Rolex Award in 2002. “It’s hard to verbalize her influence because it was the person more than anything she said or did,” says Thompson. “She had that nebulous quality that makes somebody really special.” Griffin was the faculty adviser for LPGA Hall of Famer Carol Mann. “I took life lessons from her, not golf lessons,” says Mann. “Ellen Griffin was one of the most authentic people I ever met in my life.”

In addition to Griffin’s notes on how to teach virtually any sport known to man or woman, the archive at UNCG’s Jackson Library has two of her scrapbooks, neither one completely full, compiled during her undergraduate years.

The edges of the pages crumble and crack like an Indiana Jones map. Nearly everything, one assumes, was worth saving. Terse, businesslike single sentence notes to attend a meeting in a professor’s office. Telegrams from her mother saying she couldn’t be there on such and such a day. A ticket stub from a Nelson Eddy concert in 1937. A coaster advertising something called Trommer’s Malt Beer. A note informing her she was considered overweight — at 62.4 inches and 126 pounds — and a printed card with suggested remedies: 4. Take a cool or cold bath every day; avoid extremely hot baths, as they are weakening. A limerick. A golf essay. A newspaper clipping saying she’d been elected junior class president. Her first semester freshman grades. The starting lineup of the university’s softball team — she was a catcher like her father and batted cleanup.

No one item appears any more important than any other. It’s a collage of someone spellbound by life.

Beginning in ’66 and for the next three years, Ellen’s nephew, Charlie, the fourth of Charles’ 10 children from his first marriage, lived with her and her mother on Logandale Court, near old U.S. 421. Ellen drove him to school every day. They played golf every Sunday. “I would wear a suit with shorts underneath. She would drive me to the Catholic church on Market Street, drop me off and then pick me up and we’d go play at the UNCG golf course. That’s how she taught me how to play,” he says.

There was a lot to learn besides golf. “She had to have the latest technology of everything. She had the first color TV. She had the first Amana Radarange,” says Charlie. “That was very important because it made her breakfast much more efficient. Her system of creativity started at 5 a.m. every day. She’d cook two slices of bacon in the Radarange. She made two poached eggs and coffee.

She wasn’t sick then but she had a hospital bed she would raise and lower electrically. She had a tray that would roll across the bed like a desk, and she would eat her breakfast and for those two hours think and write and plan. It was a quiet time when nobody could bother her, and it happened every single day of her life that I knew her.”

In 1968, Griffin walked away from her position as an associate professor at UNCG, eventually creating The Farm, her teaching facility in Randleman, on land owned by her brother, June, who relocated, however briefly, from Iowa to North Carolina. “It wasn’t just a business, it was an experience,” says Mann.

Griffin kept her money in an old metal cash box. Written on top was, “The The Art & Soul of Greensboro

sole purpose of business is to make money but that’s not the soul purpose.”

Off Route 62, the land where Richard Petty once took a golf lesson is now occupied by one of June’s stepdaughters and her husband. The driving range is still mowed. There are flags in faux greens for targets. Some persimmon and apple trees remain. The pine trees that Ellen planted along two sides of the range are large enough now to aspire to being described as towering. Queen Anne’s lace grows in great swaths on the edges. Gone are the peacock, Mann, and the peahen, Carol, that once perched on the railing of the outbuilding Ellen called the Tee House. Instead of being full of student desks occupied with golf pupils from ages 7 to 70, it’s a man cave. The guinea hens and the mockingbird have disappeared. The poodles no longer curl up in the sun. The property next door doesn’t have cows anymore. The cement duck pond is dry.

There is no need for anyone to shoo a wandering animal out of the line of fire on the range as Griffin did with the 8-iron she constantly carried or the bucket hat she always wore — both of which went to the grave with her — or the pants with the baggy back pockets that seemed to swallow her balled-up fists as she watched a student and asked questions in that low, husky voice. The visitors now are woodchucks and deer.

Dot Germain, Ellen’s protégé who played the LPGA Tour for 15 years and was the person who turned on the baseball games in Griffin’s final hospital room, owned a house through the woods on one end of the property. “She called herself the world’s greatest putter,” Germain recalls. “We’d have putting contests for millions of dollars.” A product of the imagination, of course, like everything else Griffin did. Debbie Massey, who played the LPGA Tour for 18 years, spent another five with Griffin and Germain in Randleman. “The Farm was really like being surrounded by Ellen’s life,” she says. “It was not just golf.

It was science and nature and philosophy, psychology and mathematics that absolutely enveloped her life and golf was part of that.”

Sometimes at the end of a long day, Griffin, Germain and Massey would sneak off to play the nearby nine-hole Green Acres Golf Course. “It was one of those courses that still had those three-wheel carts. You took your life in your hands every time you played there. She loved that little golf course,” says Massey.

Ellen would get a package of cheese crackers and a chocolate milk, just like her Georgia days. “Sometimes she had me look at her swing,” says Germain.

“I’d think, ‘Oh, yeah, she wants me to observe something. Make a suggestion. No, it was, ‘Look how good I am.’ Well, OK, Ellen.”

Griffin knew who she was. A golf lesson with her didn’t start until she knew who you were. Massey had been a ski instructor. “She used my skiing to help teach me because the footwork is very similar. And she knew that I loved mathematics. For my alignment routine she used angles and lines that I could see in the ground. To this day, I see them,” she says. “She used those specific things, skiing and mathematics, to teach me. For someone else it would be something different.”

In the evening at The Farm, after filling her favorite tall beer glass a time or two, Griffin might be seen dancing in the kitchen. A devotee of the New Orleans second line, Ellen loved the strut. “She was a performer, too. She’d get up and she’d get her hands up in the air and she’d start to strut around and she’d say, ‘This is how you do it,’” says Massey. “She’d have us all up banging with spoons, whatever we could find. And you could see her dancing in her golf swing. She had a beautiful swing, very athletic and a lot of footwork.”

In 1971, when Ellen was transitioning from the university to The Farm, something her nephew identifies as a Griffin family trait (“a long, proud tradition of completely throwing your career out the window and going into the great void,” he says), she indulged her artsy side. One of the ways was publishing the sayings she jotted down in those early morning hours that became A Book of Yours. The dedication is to three people, mentioned only by their initials. No one knows who the initials represent. Ellen never told. Each first edition was numbered, the way an artist numbers prints. Germain’s copy is 204 of 240. No. 1 is unaccounted for.

The book’s observations/poems are printed on rough-cut thick pages that surround pieces of exquisite, delicate Japanese rice paper. The last page reads: The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Griffin went around with her protégé Dot Germain

One leaf left — One last leaf Defying the winds — Tonight It has decided When the air is calm And The ripples are ironed on the lake It will float softly To the moss bank And Pray.

Some artist’s medium is simply being alive. What a masterpiece it was. OH Jim Moriarty is the senior editor of O.Henry’s sister publication, PineStraw and can be reached at jjmpinestraw@gmail.com

Ellen Griffin’s morning plans

November 2017

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Physician, Heal Thyself Five local doctors use art to heed time-honored biblical advice

T

Dr. Bobby Doolittle Dobro Cures What Ails You

By Grant Britt • Photograph by Sam Froelich

here’s an instrument in Dr. Bobby Doolittle’s little black bag you won’t find in many doctor’s arsenal of healing tools. But that pearshaped hunk of wood with the four courses of double strings is not there for the patients. Dr Doolitle’s mandolin is a healing tool for the physician, a device that enables him to maintain his own health after ministering to his patients.

Doolittle is done with doctorin’ for now, retiring a few months ago after decades of service in adolescent medicine. “They thought I was a pediatrician, but I was an internist first,” Doolittle says. “My training was internal medicine, but I did a specialty fellowship in adolescent medicine, tried to work a lot with kids, teens and young adults mainly.”

But the good doctor found that it’s tough to make a living doing just that. “So the last 25 years I worked at an urgent care center [Cone Health’s Urgent Medical & Family Care]. I saw lots of adolescents by referral from people all over the city, particularly psychologists who needed them to see somebody.”

Music has been in Doolittle’s bloodstream longer than medicine, going back to his own adolescent years in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. “I grew up with a piano-playing mama who was fantastic, so I started playing in bands in high school, grew up in Muscle Shoals,” he recalls. You’ve heard of all those guys in the movie, [2013’s Muscle Shoals documentary, featuring the Fame Studios band, the Swampers] they were in the other high school bands; mine didn’t make it, and theirs did,” Doolittle chuckles.

Doolittle never thought for a minute about playing music for a living, but kept up his chops on organ, then guitar, taking lessons from local string-pulling legend Scott Manring. “About five or six years later I added the mandolin because my wife gave me a mandolin instead of giving me a wedding ring when we got married in ’75. Doolittle took classes from 1982 until 2000, “every Thursday at lunch, then he fired me, and said, ‘Look, just go get a band to play in and quit coming in and horsing around.’”

So Doolittle gave up horsing around for hopping around: For the last 15 years, he has been playing with the Alley Rabbits, whose music was described by a band member’s wife as “aging hippie acoustic folkgrass.” He’s in a jazz trio called String Swing that plays old-fashioned American standards including some Gershwin, a smattering of Duke Ellington and a pinch of early Django Rhinehardt. He also plays in a Latin Swing band serving up salsas and rumbas.

In addition to the fun it’s provided him, music has also heaped its share of therapeutic benefits on Doolittle. “I see it as a major way to let your soul

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get out of there when medicine is stripping you of your human values, or your humanity,” he observes. “There’s an intensity that goes along with the practice of medicine, having to deal with the preciseness of it, the science part and the bureaucracy of it, the insurance companies, the federal government.”

He contends that “music has this way of going beyond anything words can describe to keep you healthy.”

But while the doctor prescribes that medicine for himself, he’s not too keen on treating patients with it. “It really ought to be about them,” he says.

Otherwise, a physician risks contracting a condition known as rockgawd-itis.

“As a musician, you really have to be careful, because there’s a point where it becomes about you, then your head swells with a kind of hubris, and you don’t want to ever get there,” Doolittle says.

He also believes that not just the proverbial apple a day but “something artistic and something athletic every day,” should be a part of everyone’s regimen.

“There is such a thing as music therapy, and I think it’s really good, I think there’s a future for it.”

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Dr. Laura Lomax A prescription for poetry

By Nancy Oakley • Photograph by Amy Freeman

“Y

ou always wonder about the road you didn’t take.

It makes me think: I wish I could have [lived] the movie, Sliding Doors, to see what it would have been like,” says Dr. Laura Lomax, with an easy laugh. The road she did take was dermatology, which she has practiced for nearly three decades at Greensboro Dermatology Associates. It was a circuitous route, from her initial plan of becoming a pediatrician, then an internist, but during her fourth rotation as a medical student, she found dermatologists to be “smart, savvy people.” And the practice of treating disorders and diseases of the skin had its benefits: Patients are more apt to follow their prescribed treatment, because they can actually see the results and, as medical practices go, dermatology doesn’t typically involve the stress of the ER or late-night calls — a boon when you’re raising a family.

Even so, Dr. Lomax continued to hear the siren call of that road not taken, the same road that physicians, from John Keats to William Carlos Williams have also followed: poetry. It was an avocation that dates to her childhood right here in the Gate City. “My dad liked rhyme.

Before I could read, he would encourage me make little rhymes,” Lomax recalls.

“My mom was one of those people who was a natural-born storyteller. Mainly family stories and that sort of thing, but she was just a real talker and good conversationalist and so, I got to love words,” the physician says.

Lomax started dabbling in verse as early as middle school, at Kiser. She would go on to head up a literary magazine in high school at Grimsley, where she devoured poetry in her English classes, a frequent topic of conversation with her sister-in-law, who is a poet and English teacher.

Though poetry and literature were her first love, Lomax also liked math and the sciences. “I have a brother who’s a physician and he influenced me,” she says, adding that it seemed easier to parlay math and science into a career than writing. And practical and economic reasons aside, a life in letters was offputting for another reason. “I couldn’t see that I was a solitary enough worker to be a writer,” Lomax explains, adding that she is “sort of on that cusp of being extroverted and introverted.”

Being on the cusp gave Lomax perspective and fuel for her pen, which she picked up again midway through her medical career. “Dealing with peoples’ problems — not just the problems they came to you for, but their problems in general — deepens your understanding of human nature and the human condition,” she observes, adding that “ all that emotion and weight have to go somewhere.”

For Lomax, that might mean crafting a poem about camellias in bloom, the

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

creative process, the ebb and flow of daily life. She prefers free verse to the rhymes of her childhood, because “It’s harder to write rhyme in a way that gets across deep thoughts without sounding corny.”

Free verse, she adds, “just gives you a lot of leeway in terms of word choice, and it sounds stupid, but the freedom to use phrases that wouldn’t fit.” She enjoys the economy the genre requires, applying the discipline and precision required in medicine to adding and subtracting words, and reworking lines and stanzas.

In the last year, Lomax has joined an informal poetry group that meets once a month. It’s a mix of “retired English teachers and professors,” for the most part, and by happy coincidence, some neighbors. Most important, she says, “It has kept me writing poetry, and writing more. And also getting good feedback from people who are writing poetry.”

As her trove of poems grows, the physician/ wordsmith hopes to publish a volume some day. Already she’s off to a good start, with “Wild Words,” which appeared among the pages of this very magazine in August of this year. It caught the attention of some of her patients, one of whom is also a poet. “She wrote me and we’re going to get together and share poems,” says Lomax, with a twinkle in her eye. As for her colleagues in the medical community? “They’re probably saying, ‘Why doesn’t she devote herself a little bit more to dermatology?’” Lomax speculates, her hearty laugh once again tumbling forth as easily as her words onto the page.

Broken Ankle

She wiggles her toes, the only parts free from the hibernation going on below the knee.

The hard deep pink cast her cocoon and prison, making safe the workmanship of osteoblasts and osteoclasts who build scaffolding here, remove it there, lay cement from memory hidden in her DNA. Tiny sculptors who try to make amends

for nature’s harsh assault on her ankle, the unrepentant tree root that caused tibia and fibula to give up their standing.

Their tools nothing but the milk she drank in her coffee, the sun on her arms.

She waits, impatient in this pregnant pause, on a clear October day, no less amazed by the mending in her limb than the knitting together of a baby in utero.

— Laura Lomax November 2017

O.Henry 83

Dr. John Wrenn The balm of oils on canvas

By Cynthia Adams • Photograph by Amy Freeman

D

r. John Wrenn is a Triad urologist who goodnaturedly calls himself a “serial hobbyist.” After hours, he used his free time to master new things, woodworking, for instance.

Then, a funny thing happened several years ago. While doodling during an office retreat, a tree began to emerge.

Something took root in him, too, and Wrenn ordered a pencil set online.

Working with pencil and paper he began experimenting, sketching his brother-in-law’s dog and his own golden doodle. “There was a lot of erasing going on,” he laughs.

Afterward, he turned to human subjects and sketched his daughter, “just playing around” with technique, and he finds an early drawing of his children. “They hate this,” he observes wryly. Wrenn persisted, working quickly and often, using a variety of media. His technique and eye began to develop.

“I have a fairly compressed learning curve,” he says. “I started trying to figure out perspective.” He took lessons under local artist Addren Doss, who exhibits her work at Tyler White Gallery.

In 2013, Wrenn discovered pastels, “which give a broad range and super saturation of colors. And I like it because it’s fast.”

A variety of subjects grabbed his attentions, especially coastal scenes, and he worked from sketches or his own photographs. Sometimes he used vintage snapshots, like one of his father at the Outer Banks, during a 1950s fishing trip.

Wrenn took more classes, learning about composition and perspective. As his skill evolved he dabbled in watercolor and then advanced to oil. Oil was a challenge. “At the time, I thought it was beautiful art,” he says before admitting with the same self-deprecating humor, “No, it wasn’t.”

He painted still lifes: sunflowers, sunsets, flowers, a trapper cabin in Georgia, even mailboxes at the sea. Initially, he worked in a realistic style. Gaining skill and confidence, Wrenn varied not only the medium but technique, moving

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between realism and abstraction.

Working from a photo of Snake Mountain near Boone, a place where his family has property, he created a large piece that at 12” x 24” is among his favorites. “As my wife will tell you, I can dive into things with intensity,” Wrenn admits. Now whenever he can, he sketches or paints.

Most important for his art’s sake, Wrenn is a keen observer.

Some of his most arresting and original scenes include a city intersection, an abstraction of a fire station near Lake Jeanette, a sunset over a local lake and a simple flower. “I’ve always liked art,” he says, showing a range of subjects and composition, moving from still lifes to portraiture.

“I never knew I had any talent,” says Wrenn.

As for the art of medicine, the Memphis native graduated from Davidson College, returning back home to attend the University of Tennessee College of Medicine. Wrenn now works within Greensboro’s Cone Health Group.

“My father was the first pediatric surgeon at St. Jude’s Hospital,” he says.

“He worked on the smallest of the small.” Notably, he has painted his muchadmired father in various scenarios.

He has always admired people who attempted many things. “I created this of the Grand Canyon from a purloined picture,” he says of an image with particular intensity, of surreal colors, as is the place itself. His work reveals a steady progression; it also reveals him.

“It’s pretty good,” Wrenn says quietly, nodding. In his off hours, he is an artist.

Artists have freedom. They’re free to to start over, erase, paint over mistakes.

If the end result doesn’t work, there is a fresh canvas.

Nobody suffers. Nobody dies.

Turns out, the making of art, in and of itself, is good medicine, especially for this doctor.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Dr. Stephen South & Dr. Ravi Avva Through Two Lenses Story and Photograph by Lynn Donovan

W

hat are the odds of two doctors at the same medical practice using the same art form to express their creative sides and soothe their souls? Dr. Stephen South and Dr. Ravi Avva both practice internal medicine at Guilford Medical Associates and both are also serious photographers. After graduating with a degree in chemistry from UNCG and getting a medical degree from Bowman Gray/WFU, Dr. South did his residency in internal medicine in Roanoke and completed a fellowship in endocrinology in Charlottesville at UVA before settling in Greensboro in 1992. Dr. Avva is a native of Greensboro, born at Cone Hospital. With an undergraduate degree from Carolina and a Ph. D. from Yale, he did his residency at Duke before coming to Guilford Medical in 1998. Both became interested in photography while in school.

Dr. South began medical school at Bowman Gray as a newlywed, and after the rigors of that first year, began to feel a bit overwhelmed. In order to “feel like I had some time to myself,” he enrolled in a six-week course in photography at Wake Forest, bringing with him a little darkroom knowledge from his time working on his high school yearbook in Randleman.

Dr. Avva developed his interest in photography at the N.C. School of Science and Mathematics in Durham It was there that he also developed an affinity for photographing landscapes. While an undergraduate at Carolina, he too lent his talents to the yearbook.

While both men have many things in common, they followed separate paths on choice of camera equipment. Dr. South began as a dedicated Minolta fan until the digital age took hold. He became a Canon shooter about 15 years ago. Dr. Avva began on Nikon and has stayed with Nikon, switching to digital about 10 years ago. Both enjoy landscapes, but Dr. South feels that people ruin a good picture and typically prefers wildlife and nature photography. Dr. Avva loves to capture family events, vacations and beautiful scenery.

Both have honed their camera skills and fed their souls while traveling all over the United States and the world. Their choice of destination is dictated first by what they want to photograph. But they both admit to being swayed by how good the food and wine are. They have taken two trips together, one to Hawaii and most recently to Portugal.

Accompanied on these trips by family and friends, Dr. Avva finds that his art allows him to escape from the stress of daily life. His photos encompass the landscapes and scenic views of his travels, but many also include the people he cares about.

Dr. Ravi Avva The Art & Soul of Greensboro

By contrast, Dr. South says that most of his actual photography is done while away from others, hiking up and down trails and valleys or to high vantage points for the “best view.” The best light of the day is sunrise or sunset for most outdoor subjects and typically these are very quiet and centered times that are calmDr. Stephen South ing and energizing at the same time. Being surrounded by nature on a cool morning is an amazing experience, he says. In more recent years with travel to far-flung locales, he’s found increasingly that photography is more of a “healing getaway” than ever before.

In recent years, his two daughters, both also photographers, have begun going with him on treks. Sharing their work with others is a big part of the process for both doctors. Framed prints of Dr. South’s grace the walls of the practice and the nursing home where he works. Piles of books showcasing Dr. Avva’s work are in his office and exam rooms for all to enjoy. The art captured through their lenses is no doubt a balm for patients — and in turn, continues to nurture creativity in the physicians behind the Canon and the Nikon. OH November 2017

O.Henry 85

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Radiant Bride The Weir-Jordan house is firmly wedded to Greensboro’s past

By Billy Ingram • Photographs by Amy Freeman

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

O.Henry 87

F

or the last 171 years, the veranda at the Weir-Jordan House at 223 North Edgeworth has been a not-so-silent witness to history — through Civil War and Reconstruction, Greensboro emerging from Greensborough, the Great Depression, two world wars, civil rights and women’s suffrage — a living testament to that fabled antebellum Southern charm thought lost to the ages.

Around the turn of the 20th century, when John Motley Morehead’s home Blandwood was her nearest neighbor, the Weir-Jordan home watched as the surrounding wilderness was developed into a charming neighborhood where generations of children were raised on the northwest edge of a burgeoning downtown. In the 1920s, one of our magnificent churches, Grace United Methodist, sprang up across the street while the Jefferson Pilot building rose in the distance, followed by more modern skyscrapers. As the center city expanded outward in the ’60s and ’70s, most of the homes in this neighborhood were razed and replaced by office complexes or were repurposed for locally owned businesses. So much so that Weir-Jordan is one of only three houses remaining north of Friendly on Edgeworth.

It has survived, and thrived, thanks to the stewardship of the Greensboro Woman’s Club, which has owned the home since 1921. Established in 1909, the Greensboro Women’s Club’s 157 initial members banded together in a push for “Better schools and community.” And, as it turns out, the preservation of what we believe to be one of the first 10 homes built downtown. The interior of the house features a double-pile floor plan with Greek Revival touches, four-panel doors, molded baseboards, and pilaster-and-frieze mantels. “There’s never been a major renovation of the entire house,” past president and Chairman of the Board of the Woman’s Club, Nancy McKee, tells me.

“These are the original plaster moldings. All the floors are original, the fireplaces, center hall, steps, newel, all of this is original [to Dr. Weir’s home].”

Greensborough was a “somnolent little Southern town” of around 400 people when Dr. David P. Weir established his successful medical practice in 1840, the next year he partnered in Jesse Lynsey’s drugstore not far from McConnel’s Dry Goods store. There was gold in them thar hills. North Carolina, in fact, was first in the nation in gold strikes and Guilford County was no exception. The Iron Horse had yet to ride any closer than Raleigh, so traveling by horse and buggy was the ultimate in luxury and sophistication in these parts. It was the dawn of the Crinoline Age when ladies wore inch-above-the-floor length dresses over hoop skirts, cinched tightly at the waist, while gentlemen sported long hair and whiskers, straw hats and tight fitting suits with tail coats.

In 1844, Dr. Wier was briefly in charge of the Edgeworth Female Seminary, a

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finishing school located on a plot of land situated directly between Governor Motley Morehead’s mansion Blandwood and the 6- acre tract where Dr. Weir began construction on his two-story home after marrying Susan Dick Humphreys in 1846.

Therein lies the mystery of Weir’s homestead. The important structures in its vicinity, Blandwood’s Italianate additions and the Edgeworth seminary, along with Greensboro College’s main building (the latter two destroyed by fire), were designed by renowned architect Alexander Jackson Davis of New York during this time period. We know Davis, who years earlier designed the State Capitol in Raleigh, presented Weir with floor plans for a home but it’s never been determined whether that plan was used or not. Davis drew inspiration from a number of architectural periods, having no one dominate style, so a home designed in the Antebellum Domestic architectural style prevalent in the Piedmont at that time, with Gothic and Italianate touches, wouldn’t be completely out of character.

Business was flourishing downtown in the summer of ’48, boasting a shopping district newly populated by a cobbler, tailor, haberdashery and a ready made clothing store located nearby Hopskin’s Hotel. That’s when Dr. Weir partnered with eccentric physician Algernon Sidney Porter to buy the Greensborough Drug Store, one of two druggists in town. Porter, who had been selling apothecaries at the old stand on North Street, took out an advertisement in the Greensborough Patriot asking those who were indebted to him to, “come forward and make settlement. May you have no power to resist!” the ad read.

Weir & Porter stocked “a large and well-selected assortment of drugs and medicines at a small advance above New York cost,” potions like Syrup of Naphtha, a cure for consumption, and Electric Lotion Pain Eradicator — basically granny’s rheumatism medicine. They also sold Bibles for the Guilford The Art & Soul of Greensboro

County Bible Society, although if the purchaser couldn’t afford one at “Society prices,” the Good Book would be “supplied gratuitously.”

This partnership was short-lived. Weir bought out Porter’s interest in the drugstore the next year. In their home around the corner on West Market, “Dr. Al” Porter and his wife Mary Jane Virginia Swaim Porter gave birth in 1862 to their third child, William Sidney, who would one day achieve fame as the writer O.Henry. A friend of O.Henry’s recalled the freckle-faced lad as he serenaded giggling seminary schoolgirls in 1880, “I can see Will Porter right now with his foot on a stump and his fiddle across his knee saying to Charlie Collins, ‘Charlie, gimme your a.’. One number we sure could play — the “Old Saltello Waltz” — because we played it at every concert . . . The funny thing about this waltz was that, so far as we knew, it had no stopping place, no end.

We just kept on playing and playing until Charlie Collins would say, ‘Look out fellers, I’m going to stop!’”

W

eir went on to become a founding member of Greensborough’s first life insurance company, one of only a few dozen in the nation, while his wife Susan was as a key participant of The Ladies of Greensboro, who were very active during the Civil War. It was her task to collect provisions donated by the public and then see that they were distributed to battlefields in need. In addition, she supervised the sewing of troop uniforms.

A senior representative of the Sons of Temperance, Dr. David Weir died of consumption in 1865. After Susan Weir (Bell) passed on in 1890, the home was sold to prominent tobacconist, city commissioner and director of the November 2017

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Chamber of Commerce James F. Jordan for $5,000.

Because the house was so closely associated with the well-known Weirs, Jordan added his own imprimatur. Pointing to the initial ‘J’ on either side of the twin fireplaces, Nancy McKee reveals, “These were added in the 1900s when James Jordan owned the house. He was responsible for bringing a lot of Northerners down who liked to hunt.” Described in the press as ”one of the best marksmen in the South” Jordan, an inveterate fox hunter, was responsible for luring tobacco tycoon Pierre Lorillard to Greensboro; J. P. Morgan was another likely visitor to the home; he owned a hunting lodge near Climax.

It made the newspapers when a doctor in New York gave Jordan with, “a fine Winchester repeating rifle, model of ‘94. It carries twenty-five loads and is one of the most effective weapons ever seen here.” That gift almost led to the demise of his home in 1904. Jordan’s son and daughter were playing in the living room when a servant accidentally swept one of the cartridges into a fireplace where it exploded; the bullet grazed the little girl’s heel, while the resulting explosion of hot coals very nearly set the house on fire.

As for what the interior decorating looked like in those days, McKee says, “A graduate student in UNCG’s architectural design department did a color analysis of all the paint, so we know what colors the original walls were and how long they were up. They determined that by the dust layer in between.”

What they discovered was a surprise: “I think most people assumed the walls were white or beige, but they were not.” They were red and blue-green, with the rooms downstairs yellow. “Some very bright colors were used,” McKee says.

When Jordan retired in 1906, after being reelected Sheriff twice, he purchased 300 acres of land on both sides of South Buffalo Creek, along the macadam road leading to Alamance Church, which he then subdivided into farms

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and smaller tracts, selling them at an auction said to have attracted some 10,000 potential buyers. Jordan’s widow, Mary, sold the house, situated on a smaller lot, in 1921 before it was subsequently acquired by The Greensboro Woman’s Club.

Making your way up the long walkway to the entrance of Weir-Jordan today, one can’t help but be struck with an unmistakable sense of the authentic antiquity it represents and how lucky we are to possess this pre-Civil War masterwork. Nancy McKee tells me, “The thing that keeps the house going are the rental fees from around a dozen civic and service groups that meet here on a monthly basis and we would love to accommodate more.” In addition, the revenue from private and corporate events, Christmas parties, rehearsal dinners and weddings serve to maintain this jewel.

You might imagine The Woman’s Club as being ladies in white gloves enjoying formal teas, playing bridge. And that was certainly a component at one time. Nowadays, they are, and have been for some time, much more focused on community activism. While initially working toward improving education and teachers’ pay, in 1917, the organization was instrumental in starting the local chapter of the American Red Cross. Five years later they established the city’s first curb market.

The Woman’s Club held its Cotton Ball at the new King Cotton Hotel in 1927, a cotillion celebrating the cash crop that fueled the South. At least a thousand partiers were presided over by a “royal court” headed by a King and Queen, a photo of the courtiers appeared in The New York Times’ rotogravure.

During the Second World War, these Wonder Women established a War Service Department that ‘adopted’ the wives of military officers serving at the Overseas Replacement Depot, planted victory gardens, and promoted the “Buy a Bomber” campaign that nationally raised enough money to purchase 431 fighter aircraft.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

In 1961, the Woman’s Club enlarged the interior of the house by enclosing the first level of the two-story front porch. This was accomplished by pushing out the original front wall and retaining the original sash and trim. During that decade, the group sponsored the Greensboro Seniorettes Club at Grimsley High to promote “healthy activities, intellectual curiosity and spiritual compassion” and spearheaded projects to aid in the national war on poverty.

In the 1970s the club fought for ratification of the Equal Rights Amendment (spoiler alert: it still hasn’t passed) and sponsored an 18 1/2 hour telethon on WFMY that raised $212,000 for the North Carolina Zoo, enough to complete construction on the East African phase.

Despite the fact that membership roles have fallen to about 15 percent from its peak in the 1940s, that level of civic involvement continues unabated.

Among the club’s projects: involvement in Urban Ministries’ Feast of Caring, along with animal rescue and foster programs, awarding of scholarships to high school seniors, making blankets for residents of Bell House, walks to fight breast cancer, support for Victory Junction for seriously ill children, and the decades-long tradition of wrapping Christmas presents at Friendly Center to raise money for charity.

Securely woven into the fabric of an ever-shifting landscape is this precious wedding cake of a house, Weir-Jordan, with an interior that has been described by the National Register of Historic Places application as retaining, “its original center hall plan and most of its simple finish. The stair which displays such typical mid-19th century features as a turned newel, turned balusters, and a molded handrail, rises in a tight, steep curve from what is now the front of the hall to a rear landing.”

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

As recently as the 1980s, there was a little old lady who lived upstairs and served as caretaker and cook when this was more of a clubhouse. Since then, the bathrooms have been modernized and WiFi and central air have been added. The kitchen has been outfitted as a state-of-the-art commercial banquet facility as McKee points out, “Stacy Street is our caterer, and she does fabulous weddings with big white tinsel on the front lawn; it’s gorgeous.”

Bedrooms upstairs serve as separate bride and groom dressing areas.

The impressive upstairs veranda with its chamfered posts supporting a fullfacade upper tier overlooks the grand front lawn. “Brides love to come here to have their pictures taken over the railing, with the photographer looking up,” McKee says. “It’s perfect for bouquet tossing and garter showings.” Banners and bunting can be hung from the railing for added dramatic effect.

As in days of old, ladies in hoop skirts and white crinoline, accompanied by gentlemen in fitted formal wear, can be seen dancing and celebrating on the front lawn, once shaded by large trees, now manicured and lusciously landscaped. McKee explains, “When brides call about having their wedding here, they express interest in wanting to get married in a Southern home; they want to be a part of Greensboro history.” OH For more information about The Greensboro Woman’s Club, go to greensborowomansclub.com.

Billy Ingram moved to downtown Greensboro 20 years ago after a career in Los Angeles as one of the team the ad world dubbed “The New York Yankees of Motion Picture Advertising.”

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

By Ash Alder

Sweet, bare-branched November. Sweet hearth fires and gray dawns and Indian corn. Sweet, sweet pumpkin bars.

Many consider this 11th month to be an auspicious time for manifestation. But first we must clear out the old. We rake leaves for compost, pull weeds, rid the garden of debris. And as we harvest the last of the eggplant and peppers, autumn sunlight washing us golden, we offer gratitude for the glory and abundance of the present moment. Wisdom and beauty are here, now. Like the whitetailed deer, peacefully grazing on the forbs and grasses along the quiet back road. She will disappear beyond the forest veil in an instant.

In the spirit of manifestation, here are 11 seeds of inspiration for the November gardener: Sow poppy seeds on the full Frost Moon (November 4) for a dreamy spring.

Ditto larkspur. The spur of this showy and complex flower resembles the hind toe of the crested songbird for which it was named.

Watch the last of the leaves turn.

Plant a fruit tree. Fig, apple, persimmon or plum? One way to decide: Consider future chutney, pudding and pie.

Cilantro is surprisingly cold hardy. Growing some?

More is more.

Feed the birds.

Plant asparagus crowns.

Stop and smell the witch hazel flowers.

Force paperwhites, hyacinth, and amaryllis bulbs for holiday bloom.

Visit a pumpkin patch.

Sow gratitude and watch it grow.

In the evenings I scrape my fingernails clean, hunt through old catalogues for new seed, oil work boots and shears.

This garden is no metaphor — more a task that swallows you into itself, earth using, as always, everything it can.

— Jane Hirshfield, November,

“Remembering Voltaire”

Celestial Kiss

According to National Geographic, one of the “Top 7 Must-See Sky Events for 2017” will occur on Monday, November 13. In the morning twilight, low in the eastern sky, Venus and Jupiter will appear to join, separated by just 18 arc-minutes — “equal to the apparent width of a half-lit moon.” Epoch conjunctions such as this aren’t once-in-a-lifetime happenings. Still, watching the sky’s two brightest planets canoodle at dawn is nothing short of magic. You’ll want binoculars for this celestial waltz.

The Gathering

Bring the magic of nature indoors this Thanksgiving season with a centerpiece of your own creation. Hollow a pumpkin and fill it with dahlias. Ignite the senses with cinnamon and eucalyptus. Embellish with pinecones, acorns, branches, seedpods, gourds, clementine, pheasant feathers, pomegranate, bundles of wheat wrapped in twine. Allow earth to inspire you. Just save room for Aunt Viola’s pumpkin bars.

Paperwhites 101

Paperwhite narcissus — or just paperwhites, as they’re more commonly known — grow just as soon as the bulbs are planted. Start them now for a wintertime centerpiece that signals spring’s faithful return. Choose a container (3 to 4 inches deep), spread an inch or two of pebbles along the bottom of it, then position the bulbs on the pebbles, pointy ends up. Add more pebbles to fill gaps and cover bulbs to the shoulders, then add water until it reaches the base of the bulbs. Check the water level daily, and when you notice roots, move the container to a sunny window. Once they flower (3 to 4 weeks), move them to a cool spot with indirect light. Enjoy. OH

To the attentive eye, each moment of the year has its own beauty, and in the same field, it beholds, every hour, a picture which was never seen before, and which shall never be seen again.

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Gone But Not Forgotten

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November 1 PERFECT SAX FIFTH. 8 p.m. Saxophonist Boney James brings his blend of soul, blues and jazz with enchanting stagecraft to town. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (333) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

November 1–5 BOXED UP. Renzo Ortega joins Antoine Williams in putting carton in an exhibit of collages made from boxes at Two Artists/One Space. GreenHill, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc.org.

KILLER ABS(TRACTS). The familiar becomes distorted in Observational Abstraction, in which artists paint the physical world through the genre of abstrac-

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Centerpiece Theatre

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tion. GreenHill (InFocus Gallery) 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org.

November 1– December 3 PROFS’ PIECES. See 2017 UNCG Faculty Biennial.

Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro.

Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

November 1– December 8 GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN. Check out the ofrenda with sugar skulls, food, beverages and mementos, as well as a photo collage of the way Day of the Dead is observed in San Miguel Allende, Mexico. Museum

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of Anthropology, Wake Forest University, 1834 Wake Forest Road, Winston-Salem. Info: (336) 758-5282 or moa.wfu.edu.

November 1– December 22 LOUISE, IF YOU PLEASE. Catch the only Southern leg of an extensive exhibit of explosive Abstract Expressionist works at Louise Fishman: A Retrospective. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 3345770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

November 1–January 8 FEET OF CLAY. And heads, faces, arms and legs, too.

See sculptures inspired by vessels of the Huastec peoples The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Arts Calendar

French Connection

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of present-day Mexico. They’re the focus of Kukuli Velarde: Falk Visiting Artist. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

November 1– February 11 TEMPUS FUGIT. It’s all relative: Catch For All Time: Interpretations of the Fourth Dimension from the Collection.

Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro.

Info: (336) 334-5770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.

November 3 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Lea Williams, author The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Stellar Evening

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of We Who Believe in Freedom: The Life and Times of Ella Baker. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro.

Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

November 4 & 18 HOME FIRES. 10 a.m. Get some tips from costumed interpreters who will prepare a fall harvest meal over an open flame. Who knows? Your newfound pioneer knowhow might come in handy during the next power outage.

High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point.

Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

November 5 DRONE ZONE. 3 p.m. Like ’em or not, they’re becoming more commonplace. Learn more about unmanned aircraft vehicles at “Drones: Fear and Fascination.”

Ice Maiden

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Kathleen Clay Edwards Library, 1420 Price Park Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2923 or greensboro-nc.gov.

November 7 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Layton Green, author of Written in Blood. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

November 8 CENTERPIECE THEATRE. 10 a.m. Learn how to make masterpiece floral arrangements from Stacy Curtis of The Farmer’s Wife, courtesy of the Greensboro Council of Garden Clubs, 4301-A Lawndale Drive, Greensboro.

Info: (336) 282-4940 or thegreensborocouncilofgardenclubs.com.

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Arts Calendar November 9 LOS GOURDOS. Noon. The versatility of one of nature’s gifts takes center stage at a Lunch and Learn, “Gourds — From Garden to Kitchen to Craft Room,” courtesy of Judi Fleming. ($2 admission for nonmembers).

Paul J. Ciener Botanical Garden, 215 South Main St., Kernersville. To register: (336) 996-7888 or cienerbotanicalgarden.org.

DYED IN THE WOOL. 1 to 4 p.m. and 6 to 9 p.m.

Learn needle felted painting — or, painting with wool — at your choice of a Tea Time Workshop or an After-Hours Workshop. GreenHill, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. To register: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org/adult-workshops.

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Hear poet Stuart Dischell, author of Children With Enemies, and music by saxophonist Laurent Estoppey. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

November 9 & 11 ISN’T IT ROMANTIC? 8 p.m. With Beethoven and Brahms on the bill, how could it not be? Greensboro Symphony’s Tanger Outlets Masterworks concert features guest artist and 2016 Cleveland Competition winner Nikita Mndoyants. Dana Auditorium, 5800 W. Friendly

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Avenue, Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 335-5456, ext. 224 or greensborosymphony.org.

ENTRANCED WITH DANCE. 8:30 p.m. & 8 p.m.

NC Dance Festival, produced by Dance Project, showcases works by rising choreographers. Greensboro Project Space, 219 Lewis St. (11/9) and Van Dyke Performance Space, 200 North Davie St., Greensboro. (336) 373-2727 or danceproject.org.

November 11 & 24 A MIGHTY WHACK! 10 a.m. Yeah, baby! The Blacksmith is at it again. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

November 10 OPUS CONCERT. 7:30 p.m. Get serious as Greensboro Choral Society performs Rossini’s "Petite Messe Solennelle," with Jon Brotherton conducting. Christ United Methodist Church, 410 North Holden Road, Greensboro. Info: gsomusiccenter.com.

November 10–19 NO PLACE LIKE HOME. It’s Yellow-Brick-Road-time as Community Theatre of Greensboro presents its annual production of The Wizard of Oz. Performance dates

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and times vary. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

November 11 CRASS CLOWNS. 8 p.m. Catch stand-up acts from Gary Owen, Earthquake, Tony Roberts, Jess Hilarious, Tyler Chronicles and Obama Bin Drankin at “I Love Comedy.” Greensboro Coliseum Special Events Center, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 7453000 or ticketmaster.com.

BEAN SCENES. 9:15 a.m. Paint and pour — a cup of java, that is at “Coffee and Canvas.” Cost is $5. Griffin Recreation Center, 5301 Hilltop Road, Greensboro. To register: greensboro-nc.gov. Info: (336) 373-2928.

November 12

BY HAND. 11 a.m. Peruse the handcrafted wares from local artists, artisans and makers at Made 4 the Holidays. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.

FRENCH CONNECTION. 1 to 5 p.m. Or rather, French Collection, featuring new paintings by artist Connie Logan and her students, on view at “C.P. Logan and Friends.” C.P. Logan Studio, 1206 W. Cornwallis Drive, Greensboro. (336) 282-5904.

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Arts Calendar BULL WRITIN’. 3 p.m. Writers are encouraged to wrangle prose at an Independent Author Rodeo. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

LAW & ORDER. 1:30 p.m. “In the criminal justice system . . .” and you know the rest, but get the real, er, “LO-down” about police procedure from criminal justice Prof. Robert H. Little of HPU at a discussion hosted by Sisters in Crime. High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: murderwewrite.org.

November 13 STELLAR EVENING. 6:30 p.m. Bring the family out for a night of stargazing, with telescopes provided by Greensboro Astronomy Club. Kathleen Clay Edwards Library, 1420 Price Park Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2923 or greensboro-nc.gov.

PITCHED AND HITCHED. 7 p.m. Consider it the speed-dating of the literary world: a pitch-a-thon for Greensboro Bound, a new and upcoming literary festival.

Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

November 14 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Michael Parker, author of Everything, Then and Since. Scuppernong Books,

304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

KANE-IAC. 7 p.m. “You provide the prose-poems. I’ll provide the war.” See Fake News at its best in Orson Welles’s 1941 tour-de-force, Citizen Kane. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.

November 15 AAARRGGHH, MATEY! 10 a.m. Shiver me timbers! Queen Anne’s Revenge is the topic at a High Point Historical Society Guild meeting. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet C. Wess Daniels, author of A Convergent Model of Renewal. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

November 16 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Poet Bruce Beasley, who will read from his collection, All Soul Parts Returned.

Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

November 17 OPUS CONCERT. 7:30 p.m. Conductor Peter Perret leads Philharmonia of Greensboro in a program of Haydn, Brahms and Tchaikovsky. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 W. Friendly Ave., Greensboro.

Info: gsomusiccenter.com.

November 18 PENS A-SCRATCHIN’! 4 p.m. And keyboards a-tappin’ for the afternoon-and-into-the-evening writing session for participants of National Write a Novel Month Group of the Triad. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro.

Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

OPUS CONCERT. 7:30 p.m. Greensboro Concert Band tunes up under the band of Kyoshi Carter. Dana Auditorium, Guilford College, 5800 W. Friendly Ave., Greensboro. Info: gsomusiccenter.com.

November 18 & 19 CRAFT CONFAB. 10 a.m. and noon. Grab a shopping bag and your credit cards and head for the Triad’s visual feast for some early holiday shopping: The Piedmont Craftsmen’s 54th Annual Fair, featuring locally made works of pottery, glass, sculpture, painting, woodworking and more. Benton Convention Center, 301 W. Fifth St., Winston-Salem. Info: piedmontcraftsmen.org.

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November 2017

O.Henry 103

226 S. ELM STREET, GREENSBORO, NC 336 333 2993 OscarOglethorpe.com

Arts Calendar November 19

November 22

BOTTLE STOP. 9 a.m. Check out antique bottles, pottery and collectibles. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.

EARLY THANKS. 8 a.m.–1 p.m. Pick up pre-ordered turkeys, autumnal arrangemnts and sides at a PreThanksgiving Celebration. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro. (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.

ARTISAN WRANGLING. 10 a.m. Shop for locally made wares, including pottery, jewelry, handblown glass and more at the Artisans’ Bazaar, which supports the Early Childhood Engagement Center. Temple Emanuel, 1129 Jefferson Road, Greensboro. Info: lvanschaack@ Tegreensboro.org.

November 20 RINGING ENDORSEMENT. 10 a.m. Natalie V. Mclean, chaplain of Bennett College discusses “The Beauty of Bennett” at a History Guild meeting. The discussion highlights the dynamic leadership of the Bennett Belles. Greensboro History Museum, 130 Summit Ave., Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-3043 or greensborohistory.org.

Visit 

➛

OPUS CONCERT. 7:30 p.m. The beat goes on as Greensboro Percussion Ensemble, special guest, NC A&T Percussion Ensemble and conductor Mike Lasley get fired up. Van Dyke Performance Space, Greensboro Cultural Center, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: gsomusiccenter.com.

online @

www.ohenrymag.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 24– December 24 DICKENSIAN. And so it begins: Triad Stage’s production of A Christmas Carol. Performance dates and times vary. Hanesbrands Theatre, 209 N. Spruce St., WinstonSalem. (336) 272-0160 or triadstage.org.

November 25 BUY LOCAL! 10 a.m. Forget Black Friday: Celebrate Small Business Saturday with a visit to your local, independent bookstore. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro.

Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

November 26 BIG LEAGUE. 5 p.m. USA Basketball and Greensboro Swarm host the FIBA World Cup Qualifying First Round of play as the USA men’s team squares off against Mexico

n o w

o p e n

on the hardwood. Greensboro Coliseum Complex Fieldhouse, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro.

Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

November 28 GIVING BACK. Help preserve the past so that future generations can appreciate it and learn from it by contributing what you can at the all-day Giving Tuesday. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.

November 30 AUTHORS, AUTHORS. 7 p.m. Meet poets Natalie Shapero (Hard Child) and Emma Phillips (Ground Speed).

Scuppernong Books, 304 South Elm St., Greensboro.

Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

November 30– December 3 ICE MAIDEN. Even though she’s wearing a sarong, Moana dominates the rink at Disney On Ice presents Dare to Dream. Performance times vary. Greensboro Coliseum. 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.

f o r

215 S. Elm Street • Greensboro, NC

l u n c h

|

336.638.1216

MoNday - ThurSday 11:30-2P, 5P-10P | Friday 11:30-11P | SaTurday 5P-11P

D O W N TO W N G R E E N S B O R O.O R G

November 2017

O.Henry 105

M A R ION Tile & Flooring

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Mon-Thur 9am-5pm & Friday 9am-3pm

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...turning dreams into an address REALTOR®, BROKER, MBA, ABR, CSP, GRI, CRS, SFR, CPM • homes@michelleporter.com www.michelleporter.com ©2017 BHH Affiiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC. Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.

106 O.Henry

November 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

WEEKLY HAPPENINGS Mondays BUZZING. 10 a.m. Your busy little bees engage in a Busy Bees preschool program focusing on music, movement, garden exploration and fun in the kitchen, at the Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. Preregistration: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com.

CHAT-EAU. Noon. French leave? Au contraire! Join French Table, a conversation group. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

Tuesdays READ ALL ABOUT IT. Treat your little ones to story times: BookWorms (ages 12–24 months) meets at 10 a.m.; Time for Twos meets at 11 a.m. Storyroom; Family Storytime for all ages meets at 6:30 p.m. High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 8833666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.

PINT-SIZED GARDENERS. 3:30 p.m. Instill in your kiddies a love of gardening and growing edible things at Little Sprouts (ages 3 to 5 years). Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. To register: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com.

PICKIN’ AND GRINNIN’ 6 until 9 p.m. Y’all come for Songs from a Southern Kitchen, featuring Graymatter (11/7), Molly McGinn, Dave Willis, Brent Buckner (11/14), Dave Cecil Band (11/21), Sam Frazier, Eddie Walker (11/28). 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro.

Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/greensboro_music. htm.

Wednesdays TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 8 a.m. until 1 p.m.

The produce will be fresh and the cut fleurs belles at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2402 or gsofarmersmarket.org.

CREATIVE KIN. 5 to 7 p.m. Moms, dads, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins: Enjoy a free evening of artistic expression at ArtQuest. GreenHill, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7460 greenhillnc.org.

MUSSELS, WINE & MUSIC 7 until 10 p.m. Mussels with house-cut fries for $15, wines from $10–15 a bottle and live music by AM rOdeO — at Print Works Bistro, 702 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 379-0699 or printworksbistro.com/live_music.htm.

ONCE UPON A TIME. 2 p.m. Afterschool Storytime convenes for children of all ages. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.

Arts Calendar

Thursdays

TWICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Preschool Storytime convenes for children ages 3–5. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.

ALL THAT JAZZ. 5:30 until 8 p.m. Hear live, local jazz featuring Dave Fox, Neill Clegg and Matt Kendrick and special guests: Kathy Gelb (11/2), Lauren Mehan (11/9), Danny Grewen (11/16), Nishah DiMeo (11/30). All performances are at the O.Henry Hotel Social Lobby Bar. No cover. 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 854-2000 or www.ohenryhotel.com/jazz.htm.

JAZZ NIGHT. 7 p.m. Fresh-ground, fresh-brewed coffee is served with a side of jazz at Tate Street Coffee House, 334 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 275-2754 or www.tatestreetcoffeehouse.com.

OPEN MIC COMEDY. 8–9:35 p.m. Local pros and amateurs take the mic at the Idiot Box, 2134 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 274-2699 or idiotboxers.com.

Fridays MINI MAKERS. 11 a.m. Let your child (age 5 or younger) bring out his or her inner Van Gogh at ArtQuest’s Masterpiece Fridays, which melds tales from classic storybooks and artistic activities. The Very Hugry Caterpillar inspires food sculptures on 11/3; vegetable prints and Look Paul J. Ciener

Botanical Garden IS PROUD TO PRESENT

Find that one-of-a-kind gift idea for the holidays!

Go holiday shopping in our Garden Gift Shop, which contains unique items and seasonal plants along with handmade items by our Garden Guild.

Open Monday thru Friday 10am-4pm Saturday Dec 2, 9 and 16 10 am - 3 pm

Paul J. Ciener BotaniCal Garden 215 S. Main Street, Kernersville 336-996-7888 www.cienerbotanicalgarden.org

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

O.Henry 107

Arts Calendar

the finest

Mexican food fish dishes

Closer are the focus on 11/10; and abstract works made with marbles pairs with Not in a Box on 11/17. Cost is $6 per person. GreenHill, 200 N. Davie St. Greensboro. To register: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org.

and most delicious

THE HALF OF IT. 5 p.m. Enjoy the hands-on exhibits and activities for half the cost of admission at $5 Fun Fridays ($2 on First Fridays). Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 5742898 or gcmuseum.com.

in the triad

Food & Dining

Daily Specials Available ~ Catering available ~

Fridays & Saturdays NIGHTMARES ON ELM STREET. 8 p.m. A 90-minute, historical, candlelit ghost walking tour of Downtown Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 905-4060 or carolinahistoryandhaunts.com/information.

Saturdays TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 7 a.m. until noon. The produce is fresh and the cut fleurs belles. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro.

Info: gsofarmersmarket.org.

THRICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Hear a good yarn at Children’s Storytime. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.

2 5 0 5 B attlegrou nd Ave G r eensb o r o N C • (336) 617-4155

Monday: 16” cheese pizza $ 8.99

JAZZ ENCORE. 6:30 p.m. Hear contemporary jazz cats, Vaughan Penn (11/4), Kelly Smith with John Trotta (11/11), The Mondre Moffett Jazz Society (11/18), Angela Bingham, Edmund Paolantonio, Scott Sawyer, Ron Brendle (11/25), and enjoy seasonal tapas at O.Henry Jazz series for Select Saturdays. O.Henry Hotel, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 854-2000 or ohenryhotel.com.

Tuesday: 14” 2 topping pizza $ 10.99

IMPROV COMEDY. 10 p.m. on Saturday, plus an 8 p.m. show appropriate for the whole family. The Idiot Boxers create scenes on the spot and build upon the ideas of others, creating shows that are one-of-a-kind — at the Idiot Box, 2134 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 2742699 or idiotboxers.com.

Sundays HALF FOR HALF-PINTS. 1 p.m. And grown-ups, too.

A $5 admission, as opposed to the usual $10, will allow you entry to exhibits and more. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 5742898 or gcmuseum.com.

Wednesday: all Draft pints $ 2.99

Thursday: 1/2 price Bottles of Wines

2116 Lawndale Drive • Greensboro, NC

336.370.0800

3927 Battleground Ave. • Greensboro, NC

336.288.1515

108 O.Henry

November 2017

voted

BesT

iTalia n rea der’s CHoIC e

MISSING YOUR GRANDMA? 3 p.m. Until it’s gone, tuck into Chef Felicia’s skillet-fried chicken, and mop that cornbread in, your choice, giblet gravy or potlikker.

Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen, 1421 Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/ fried_chicken.htm.

To add an event, email us at

ohenrymagcalendar@gmail.com

by the first of the month

ONE MONTH PRIOR TO THE EVENT. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

C.P.LOGAN

T E N N I A L C E N

W

AND FRIENDS

S

present

OPEN studiO NOVEMBER 12TH•12-5PM

Music by Kristy Jackson

NOVEMBER 21–

www. CPLogan.com

Arts & Culture

Hundreds of original oils at reasonable prices in the largest studio in town!

Free and open to all!

DECEMBER 31, 2017

1206 W Cornwallis Drive • 336-282-5904

Fridays at 2:45 p.m.

NOVE MB E R 24–DECEMBER 22

C A R O L I N G F R I D AY S The 2018 2017 & on Seas

Tuesdays DECE MB E R 5, 1 2, AND 1 9

Mojo & the Bayou Gypsies

High Point Ballet Presents:

A gleeful gumbo of “red hot mojo music” reflecting Louisiana Cajun-Creole traditions.

5–8 p.m.

Friday, DECEMBER 8 Saturday, DECEMBER 9

Saturday, November 4, 8:00 PM

Masters of the Mind

featuring Guy Bavli and Friends

The Nutcracker

Saturday, November 11, 8:00 PM

EVENING TOURS: A 1917 CHRISTMAS

December 20-22, 7:30pm

Land of the Sweets December 23, 11am, 2:00pm

Telekinesis, predictions and mind-reading injected with elements of humor and intrigue.

D AY T O U R S : A 1917 CHRISTMAS

A joyful, dream-inspired story of heroic toy soldiers, sword-fighting mice, and glittering Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

Acts and dates subject to change. For the latest news, go to HighPointTheatre.com

W I N STO N - SA L E M , N C Tickets at reynoldahouse.org/holidays

N

C

C H R I S T M A S

For Tickets, call 336-887-3001 or visit HighPointTheatre.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

O.Henry 109

Arts & Culture

January 12 & 14, 2018 Tickets on Sale Now (336) 272-0160 www.GreensboroOpera.org

January 12 & 14, 2018 Tickets on Sale Now (336) 272-0160 GreensboroOpera.org

110 O.Henry

November 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Arts & Culture

Greensboro station, circa 1917

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Greensboro History Museum Archives

November 2017

O.Henry 111

35th Anniversary Season Exceptional, Innovative & Engaging Choral Performances for All

Don We Now

Saturday DECEMBER 9 8:00 pm Monday DECEMBER 11 7:30 pm

Christ United Methodist Church

Arts & Culture

410 N Holden Rd, Greensboro

“Articulate precision followed by infinite warmth and expressiveness...

A colorful and engaging journey...Breathtakingly beautiful.”

- Nicolas Rich, Greensboro News & Record, 12/14/15

Holiday Family Matinée Saturday DECEMBER 16 3:00 pm

Page High School

201 Alma Pinnix Dr, Greensboro

A special edition of our holiday concert, perfect for kids of all ages! Featuring Twas the Night Before Christmas & your family’s favorite holiday tunes.

(336) 333-2220 or belcantocompany.com

WINTER SHOW DECEMBER 3, 2017 - JANUARY 13, 2018 500 WORKS | 100+ ARTISTS | ON EXHIBIT | FOR SALE

Hayden Wilson, Olive Murrine Bottle, 2016, blown glass, 24 x 9 x 4 inches

200 N. Davie Street | Downtown Greensboro GreenHillNC.org/Winter-Show

112 O.Henry

November 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

336.373.6200

2214 Golden Gate Drive • Greensboro, NC Monday-Friday 10-6 • Saturday • 10-5 Sunday 1-5 Carriage_House@att.net

happy Put a piece of

in your life.

C A S U A L

Lee Andersen • Parsley and Sage • Habitat • Chalet Comfy USA • Alembika • Grizas • Cheyenne • Luukaa • Cut Loose

Photo: Daniel Stoner

Carriage House Antiques & Home Decor

F U N K Y .

Sizes: 1X, 2X, & 3X

336-545-3003

Golden Gate

F U N .

Vera’s Threads Sizes: S,M, L & XL

336-288-8772

2274 Golden Gate Drive • Golden Gate Shopping Center • Greensboro, NC Hours: M-F 11-6, Sat 11-5

www.linneasboutique.com

Annual Holiday Art Show & PArty!

T y l e r W h i T e O ’ B r i e n Ga l l e ry Friday • November 17, 2017 6:00 pm -8:00 pm

Come find your one-of-a-kind piece at the Piedmont Craftsmen’s Fair.

Explore handmade home goods, jewelry, furniture and decorative items from some of America’s finest artisans. Meet the craftspeople.

Learn their techniques. And, most importantly, find a piece that you can take home and treasure.

Live Music with

Grayson FieLds

Fine art and

one oF a Kind GiFts for all your

HoLiday sHoppinG

Creative design by Vela Agency

Artist: Trista Depp Chapman - Clay

Advance Tickets: PiedmontCraftsmen.org November 18 & 19 | Benton Convention Center • Winston-Salem, NC

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

307 State Street, Greensboro (336) 279-1124 • www.tylerwhitegallery.com November 2017

O.Henry 113

Unique Shoes! Beautiful Clothes!! Artisan Jewelry!!!

Shoes Sizes 6 - 11 • Clothes Sizes S - XXL

507 State Street, Greensboro NC 27405 336-275-7645 • Mon - Sat 11am - 6pm www.LilloBella.com

Celebrate this season with State St. Jewelers

Tues-Fri. 10-6pm Sat. 10-3pm 211 A State St. Greensboro, NC (336) 273-5872

Diamonds · Custom · Onsite Repair

114 O.Henry

November 2017

Online savvy, hometown trust.

www.StateStJewelers.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro

shops • service • food • farms

501 State Street Greensboro, NC 27205 336.274.4533 • YamamoriLtd.com

support locally owned businesses

Arts Calendar

10:00-5:30 Monday-Friday Saturday 10:00 - 3:00 and by Appointment

Friendly Shopping Center, Greensboro, NC 800-528-3618 ● 336-299-9767

www.extraingredient.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.

O.Henry 115

shops • service • food • farms

support locally owned businesses

Sometimes it’s smarter to lease than to sell your home. Call us when you think you’re there! Michelle will be pleased to discuss how Burkely Rental Homes can help you.

-Sterling Kelly, CEO Burkely Communities

Furnishing stylish homes in the Triad FuRniTuRe, AcceSSORieS And giFTS. Tuesday- Saturday 10-5pm 3500 Old Battleground Rd. Suite A (336) 617-4275 • www.aubreyhomedesign.com

116 O.Henry

November 2017

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.

shops • service • food • farms

Contact us for Holiday Ideas

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Summerfield, N.C. 27358 | 267-566-4574 www.reddogwoodwork.com | reddogwoodwork@gmail.com etsy.com/shop/reddogwoodwork | pinterest.com/reddogwoodwork facebook.com/reddogwoodwork | instagram.com/reddogwoodwork

support locally owned businesses

A Life well lived. Summerfield Farms is a working farm and events venue with a focus on memorable celebrations, 100% grass-fed and grass-finished beef, certified organic produce and whole-body wellness. Visit our store, The Market, 7 days a week or shop online at SummerfieldFarms.com (use code OHENRY for 10% off your first online order or mention ‘O.HENRY’ when you visit The Market and get a 10% discount!).

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.

O.Henry 117

shops • service • food • farms

support locally owned businesses

Take care of your holiday shopping while we prepare your prescriptions.

Your partner in healthcare since 1967.

8 0 3 - C F r i e n d ly C e n t e r r d . G r e e n s b o r o , n C

336.292.6888 • gatecitypharmacy.com

We’re Moving!

January 2018

Happy

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1616-H Battleground ave Greensboro Dover Square down from Main & taylor

Simply Meg’s Savvy Style. Purely PerSonal.

118 O.Henry

The Shops at Friendly Center 3334-123 W. Friendly Ave. Greensboro, NC 27410 P: 336.272.2555 www.simplymegs.com

1052 Grecade St. • GreenSboro, nc 27408 Conveniently located in Midtown

336.897.1505

dr. Janine M. oliver

November 2017

www.BAHpetcare.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.

shops • service • food • farms

support locally owned businesses

o u r c u Sto m e r S a r e yo u n G a nd th e yo u n G at h e a r t. th e y a r e t h e c l aSS i c a m e r i c a n b e au t y o r t h o Se lo o k i n G fo r th r e a d S th at a r e u ni q u e ly o n t r e n d.

Arts & Culture

boutique boutique 8 0 9 G reen Valley r oad Sui te 101

| 336-944-5335

T u es- F r i • 1 0 - 6 | saT • 1 0 -3

— Never

Miss An Issue! —

Subscribe today and have

delivered to your home! e n-stat ate i 5 4 $ t ut-of-s o 5 5 $ The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Call 336.617.0090 or email dstark@ohenrymag.com O.Henry Magazine P.O. Box 58, Southern Pines, NC 28388

Join the effort. Visit www.triadlocalfirst.com.

November 2017

O.Henry 119

GreenScene

Angel Hjarding, Barb Purdie

Robert Granger, Gordon Hanson

NC Extension Master Gardener Volunteer Gardening Gala & Seminar Thursday, September 21, 2017

Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Chris & Jenny Danford

Taylor Berdeau, Rekeeda McCoy

Mary Finn (Chair of the Event), Jill Hollingsworth, Sue Morris

Linda Hayes, Barbara Culpepper, Frances Rush

Janet Sommers, Brenda Rowland

Kenneth Hicks, Nancy Seay, Cindy Wyrick

Merrill Tisdale & Gerry Alfano Scott Maxwell, Jill Hollingsworth, Mitchell Hagler

120 O.Henry

November 2017

Marta McKenzie, Valerie Aulbert

Kim Manring, Levern Allen Jr, Hanna Smith

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

GreenScene

Ann Snyder, Kitty Robinson, Connie Logan

Anna Claire Allen, Larry Phillips

Go Barber!

Greensboro Opera Gala Thursday, September 21, 2017

Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Jim Clotfelter, Peter Reichard

Nancy Walker & Tim Lindeman, Chris & Kathryn Troxler

Laura Holley, Brent Davis, Sophie Petron

Jackie Farlow, Lollie White, Jen Feather, Susan McMullen, Sallie Clotfelter

David Holley (Artistic Director, Greensboro Opera), David Pearshall, Stephanie Foley Davis, Jacob Wright (The Barber Seveille cast members)

Dora Cardona, Alicia Reid

Judy Jolly, Richard Levy, K. Porter Aichele

Linda Hiatt, Linda Mortensen, Janet Hendley Nancy Hoffmann, Dave Turnage

Andrew Spainhour, Michiko Stavert, Cecelia Thompson, Chris Wilson

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

O.Henry 121

GreenScene

Whitney Brooks, Alisha Wielfaert

Triad Local First Community Table 2017 Starlight Meadow Farm Sunday, October 1, 2017

Photographs by Lynn Donovan

Simone Lamothe, Autumn Meachum, Sam Swindell Reed Gordon, Jeff Craddock

Andrew Norman, Emily Tosco

Chandra & Ed Young, Chef Mary Lacklen, Allen Odom

Sandee Pearce, Pat Cross

Kerri Thomas, Morgan Murphy, Jonathan Watterson

Marti Kennedy, Audra Volpi, Janine Oliver, Tammy & Steve Graves

Mark Barton, Nancy Hoffmann, Wayne Abraham

122 O.Henry

November 2017

Steve Buckner, Derrick Lee, Chef Jay Pierce, Sarah Morgan

Nancy Doll, Lisa Newsome, Barbara Hall, Katherine Davey, Justin Outling, Jane McCallum

Luck Davidson, Mary Lacklen, Dunia Fleihan, Allen Odom

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

IrvIng Park a place to call home

2 3 0 2 Da n bu ry r oa D, G r e e n s b o r o, n C

Chesnutt - Tisdale Team

Irving Park / Browntown. Updated Master Bedroom on main level, master Bath, fabulous Kitchen, covered Porch added. 5 Bedrooms, 3.5 Baths, lots of hardwoods.

Open & gracious - ready for a family to enjoy. $649,000

Xan.Tisdale@bhhsyostandlittle.com Kay.Chesnutt@bhhsyostandlittle.com

Xan Tisdale 336-601-2337

Kay Chesnutt 336-202-9687

©2017 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC. Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.

Dr. Christopher Durham | Dr. George Soung

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(336) 275-6600 • www.theoralsurgeryinstitute.com

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

November 2017

O.Henry 123

GreenScene

Jane K. Fernandes, Laura Rogers Hundley, Helen Rogers

The Care Project Gala

“The Art of Hearing�

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Photographs by Lynn Donovan Pam Hall, Karen Plank, Denise Stafford, Nancy Harrill

Kristy & Maddie Morrison Tiera Gravely, Luchannia Davis

Renee & Mustafa McIntosh

Dante, Mike, Davina & Niki Minervini Brianna & Stephanie Flowers, Stefan Backi

Ashlynn & Brendan Boatman

Quentina Dennis, Brandon Craven

Melissa LaFemina, Chrissy Fabry

124 O.Henry

November 2017

Charlotte Chambers, Maggie Sherrill, Macy Spencer, Greyson Cook, Myles Kraska, Hunter Stone, Asher Wilson

Jason Rummel, Jami Morrison

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

get your

eyoenbrows ONLY way to get the FUZZ off your face

at Friendly Center(next to Great Clips & Opp. Five Guys) 3123 Kathleen ave, Greensboro, NC

336-541-8999 • www.jassisbrowbar.com

• Unique 5-minute process • Lasts longer than waxing • Defined arch • Yogic & Natural hair removal • Artistic technique from India used

by Queens

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Available in prescription |

English Riding Apparel and Equipment

STYLE SHOWN: KA’A POINT

Come visit us at Horse and Rider .

Our favorite thing is getting you ready for the ring !

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Mention this ad and receive 20% off your entire purchase.

Voted Best Menswear Store 2015, 2016, & 2017

8/14/17 4:14 PM

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Business & Services

EyEbrow ThrEading for MEn and woMEn

fleek

Monday-Friday 10-5:30 Saturday 10-4:00 • Sunday Closed

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November 2017

O.Henry 125

Business & Services

Shop LocaL for Best Prices it’s about Communities, Families and Homes.

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2201 Patterson Street, Greensboro, NC (2 Blocks from the Coliseum) Mon. - Fri.: 9:30am - 5:30 pm Sat. 10 am - 2 pm • Closed Sunday

ASHMORE RARE COinS & MEtAlS Since 1987

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Gibsonville Antiques & ColleCtibles Full of History, Antiques & Charm

106 E. Railroad Ave, Gibsonville, NC • (336) 446-0234

www.bipinc.com 126 O.Henry

November 2017

Downtown Gibsonville behind the Red Caboose

GibsonvilleAntiques.com • Mon-Sat 10-6 & Sun 1-5

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Mystery Men and Women

The Accidental Astrologer

Sexy and secretive Scorpio vamps it up in November

By Astrid Stellanova

Sugar, here’s wishing all your champagne and caviar birthday wishes will

come true. For starters, Dynasty is returning to the airways, checking at least one box for you. Scorpio is all about mystery, vamping and tramping. Everybody wants to date or be a sexy Scorpio at some point. And yet, think about how much we really know about even very public Scorpios . . . Julia Roberts, Katy Perry, Matthew McConaughey, Kathy Griffin, Bill Gates and Hillary Clinton are Scorpios. — Ad Astra, Astrid

Scorpio (October 23–Novetmber 21) You haven’t wasted time this year; but you can’t get it back either. So don’t bother wishing you were younger, better looking, or had the body of an Olympic skater.

Like Grandpa said, don’t we all wish we could be like a load of laundry and spin in the dryer to get rid of our wrinkles and shrink a few sizes? But you can realize you are one of the lucky ones, possessing your own teeth, both kidneys, and more class and sass than ought to be allowed. Mystery is not your whole history, Sweet Thing.

Sagittarius (November 22–December 21) Are you kidding me right now? Don’t question yourself. Colonel Sanders had his finger-lickin’ chicken, but you have your own secret recipe. Yours is a finely tuned sense of intuition, and it is right on the money. Change your passwords, hide your money and don’t trust the very person you know you shouldn’t trust with your deep dark secrets.

Capricorn (December 22–January 19) You get your revenge. And Honey, it feels so good, like sitting in a tub of Cool Whip after a bad sunburn. But you will have to move on with your fine life and let it go. That double crosser won’t double-cross you again, but ask yourself if you wouldn’t be better off high-tailing it on out, and getting yourself into a new circle of trust.

Aquarius (January 20–February 18) You had a breakthrough and took a stand that needed taking, Sugar. But Lordy, Nancy Grace, just reel that self-righteous anger back in a little. By this time you are reading this, everybody that mistook your good nature for being a fool has figured out only the first part is true.

Pisces (February 19–March 20) Yes, you won it hard and square, Sweetheart. But your windfall of cold hard cash had the effect of making your heart harden up faster than a pan of hot lard. It is possible to be frugal and also to help those who need it. Compromise a little and you will be rich in ways that matter.

Aries (March 21–April 19) A straightjacket is not your best fashion statement. You’ve always had a knack for spotting trends, being the first and making others follow. But look behind you, Darling. Nobody’s there. It doesn’t matter so much how you look as how fulfilled you are, and right now you know you’re a quart low on fulfillment.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Taurus (April 20–May 20) Jack Daniel’s said you could dance, just like it said you could do a lot of things. At least the glass was half full, Honey. When the line dancing ended, everybody had to agree you outdid yourself. Sometimes you just have to fly your freak flag and howl at the moon. No real harm done, Sugar.

Gemini (May 21–June 20) Scary to take a long, hard look at yourself, right? Sometimes it’s like visualizing your skinny cousin Oscar wearing a hot dog bun. But being truthful and vulnerable is a good thing, and you are right to ask yourself if you are being true to yourself in your current situation. Don’t let yourself settle for a scenario that doesn’t honor your true self.

Cancer (June 21–July 22) Mr. Sun and Mrs. Moon might have been your parents. Now, you are having an eclipse of your own. You helped someone and they somehow managed to cut in line in front of you. You are going to learn from this, recover, and they will make amends. Honestly. You’ll be basking in the sunlight and the moonlight.

Leo (July 23–August 22) Attitude? Honey, you might want to chill. Lately, you make Leona Helmsley look like a GoFundMe charity organizer. Something got into you and all the state and half of Georgia knows it, too. You have bigger things to attend to, and after an attitude adjustment you’ll be sitting in the butter — and not alone.

Virgo (August 23–September 22) Cool your heels, Darling, and let time wound all heels. Seriously, karma is reckoning with someone who took credit for your work. Whistle while you work and never let ’em see you sweat. Because very, very soon, they will. In the meantime, an escape from your worries is needed. Don’t ignore your health.

Libra (September 23-October 22) You don’t need a whip. But a carrot would help your motivation, Honey Bun. Everybody thinks you are self-sufficient but you are like the rest of us — a kind word helps you feel your life is on track. Trouble is, the person you want approval from is not catching your drift. Hang on, hang in and don’t sweat it. OH

For years, Astrid Stellanova owned and operated Curl Up and Dye Beauty Salon in the boondocks of North Carolina until arthritic fingers and her popular astrological readings provoked a new career path.

November 2017

O.Henry 127

O.Henry Ending

Chief

And the art of moving on

By Nancy Oakley

“That was our hand-washing station,” “There’s me, washing my clothes,” he explains as he turns the album’s pages. He looked as he does now, with the same buzz cut, squinting through wire-rim glasses, his toothy grin flashing beneath a woolly worm of a mustache. In the photo, he wore a tan T-shirt and fatigues, his booted feet planted firmly on the ground as he squatted before a bucket containing a shirt immersed in soapy water.

“We’d hang it up and it’d dry in the sun just like that,” he recalls, snapping his fingers. “Boy, it was hot, too. Not as hot as the Mojave when I was in training, though. That was brutal.” He pronounces it: MOH-JAVE, with a hard “j” and a long “a” and equal emphasis on both syllables.

Chief, as my friends and I call him, continues flipping through the photo album following his favorite dinner of grilled chicken and chops. He shows us the tent where he and his company lived, a large, white structure distinctive only because of the bland and barren landscape surrounding it — sand — and the narrow cot with his duffle lying next to it.

“There’s Fallujah,” he continues, “some Iraqi kids.” The photo reveals a depressing alley flanked by gray buildings, the latter, extreme close-ups of wide-eyed children mugging for the camera.

“And that’s mail. See? All those orange bags? Look at that!” Here Chief’s tone becomes more animated, as if he were reliving the thrill of receiving news from home.

Back in the day, home for Chief was one of the aging apartments in a leafy neighborhood we all lived in when we were young and poor. His was the smallest, because it was the cheapest — an ideal arrangement for a student who had lived for four years in a cramped submarine. As a new recruit, he had sometimes been relegated to sleeping in the tiny compartment over the nuclear missiles.

He’d wanted to be a Marine, but for whatever reason wound up in the Navy.

“When the guy at the recruiting office said, ‘How about submarines?’ I said, ‘Yeah, that sounds OK.’” Chief remembers. “And the first thing I thought when I got there was, ‘How do I get out of this?’” He laughs about it now. But at the time he had no other options, the laughing, skinny kid in another photograph from an even more distant era. The kid with a mop of hair, sporting cutoff jeans, whose stepmother showed him the door after his father died.

Chief moved from subs to helicopters. Reconnaissance. “I saw other guys doing that, and I said, ‘Hey, I want to do what they’re doing,’” Chief once explained. “That’s how you learn things. Move on.”

By the time we knew him, Chief was the odd man out, a bit older than the rest of us, with his trademark buzz cut, military posture and short fuse, not to mention his unabashed patriotism. A bumper sticker on his SUV read “Semper Fi,” an homage to his dream deferred — though he did join the Naval Reserves attached to a Marine unit. Then there was the vanity plate,

128 O.Henry

November 2017

“WETHEPPL,” which drew smirks among the hipper-than-thou set.

But Chief had a great sense of fun. He’d take one couple’s child for walks in her stroller, play fetch with their dog. His favorite movie was A Few Good Men, and Chief loved to quote the courtroom dialogue verbatim, ending in crescendo with its now famous line, “You can’t handle the truth!”

Then he’d laugh and take a sip of Michelob, and replay the scene and quote the lines all over again.

On another occasion Chief had gone to a formal dance, wearing his dress whites. He came back, his date on his arm, and knocked on all our doors, pretending to have been stabbed, spilling fake blood on the sidewalk, before doubling over with laughter.

His date that night ended up becoming the mother to his only son, but Chief’s relationship with her soured, becoming fraught with custody battles.

He moved in and out jobs but continued his Reserve duty, and long after he’d left our little enclave, he would return for dinners of chicken and chops, and screenings of A Few Good Men. In 2003 when Reservists were called up, Chief left for his first tour, attached to a medical unit. One of us took care of the golden retriever he’d acquired.

Even the ex-girlfriend cried and wrote letters — while demanding child support for their infant son.

We were relieved when Chief came home in one piece. Then he signed up for another tour. And another. And another. He rarely spoke of them.

After the last tour, he resumed his pattern of moving from job to job and tried to re-enlist — only to be rejected at his advancing age. He gave up a job at one of the hospitals to work at the V.A., in spite of the long commute it required.

Chief’s been at that job for a while, and he’s mellowed, preferring college football games on TV to A Few Good Men. He speaks proudly of his son, now 18.

“A neighbor of mine — I guess he’s about 70 — asked me if I wanted him to enlist,” he tells us after he’s closed the photo album. “I told him that was my boy’s choice. It kind of shocked him.” Chief pauses to take a sip of iced tea, having switched from Michelob for the evening.

We all stifle yawns and start to break up the evening, with “g’nights,” and hugs. Chief walks down the driveway to the modest sedan he now drives. He gets in and starts the ignition, waving through the window and flashing his toothy grin. As the car fades away into the darkness, the only thing visible between its taillights is the vanity plate: IRAQX4. OH Nancy Oakley is the senior editor of O.Henry.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR

he says, pointing to a snapshot of an orange Igloo cooler.

The photograph is neatly laid out in a column among four others in a narrow album.

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