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July 2026

DEPARTMENTS

PINEHURST TOYOTA

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MAGAZINE

Volume 22, No. 7

David Woronoff, Publisher david@thepilot.com

Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director andiesouthernpines@gmail.com

Jim Moriarty, Editor jjmpinestraw@gmail.com

Keith Borshak, Senior Designer keith@thepilot.com

Miranda Glyder, Senior Designer miranda@pinestrawmag.com

Alyssa Kennedy, Digital Art Director alyssamagazines@gmail.com

Emilee Phillips, Digital Content emilee@pinestrawmag.com

CONTRIBUTING EDITORS

Jim Dodson, Stephen E. Smith

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

John Gessner, Laura L. Gingerich, Diane McKay, Tim Sayer

CONTRIBUTORS

Jenna Biter, Anne Blythe, Tom Bryant, Susan Campbell, Bill Case, Tony Cross, Brianna Rolfe Cunningham, Mart Dickerson, Bill Fields, Mary Novitsky, Lee Pace, Gary Palmer, Todd Pusser, Joyce Reehling, Deborah Salomon, Scott Sheffield, Rose Shewey, Kimberly Daniels Taws, Tommy Tomlinson, Daniel Wallace, Ashley Walshe, Amberly Glitz Weber

ADVERTISING SALES

Samantha Cunningham, Advertising Director 910.693.2505

Christy Phillips, Sales Manager 910.693.2498

Kathy Desmond, 910.693.2515

Terry Hartsell, 910.693.2513

Erika Leap, 910.693.2514

Ginny Trigg, 910.693.2481

ADVERTISING GRAPHIC DESIGN

Mechelle Butler, Scott Yancey PS

Henry Hogan, Finance Director 910.693.2497

Darlene Stark, Circulation Director 910.693.2488

Tonnie Nester, Distribution Specialist

SUBSCRIPTIONS

910.693.2488

OWNERS

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

145 W. Pennsylvania Avenue, Southern Pines, NC 28387 www.pinestrawmag.com

©Copyright 2026 Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. PineStraw magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

Photograph by Matthew Gibson

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My Miss American Pie

And our slice of heaven together

By Jim DoDsoN

She has a birthday this month. It’s one of the biggies.

It’s not every day you reach an age when you’re permitted — even expected — to kick back and reflect on a long journey that has shaped so many lives for the better.

Her kindness is exemplary, guided by a heart that is as compassionate as it is brave. Over the years, I’ve seen her take on tasks that seemed almost hopeless, inspiring significant change in others around her. That’s just her nature.

No wonder her birthday is a national holiday — at least in France.

It’s hard to believe that my wife, Wendy, born on Bastille Day, is 65. She’s never looked more youthful and beautiful.

Yes, I know. America also has a big birthday this month. So, roll out the bunting, strike up the band, hand out the confetti poppers and light the fireworks. Even in times that try men’s souls, it’s good to pause and reflect on how our beloved nation got here — and where it may be headed, for better or worse.

My birthday gal, Wendy, is as all-American as apple pie and just gets better with age, an infectious optimist and embodiment of what it means to be a fully engaged citizen, a wise counselor and the most capable human being I’ve ever known.

Because she’s also a gifted baker, I call her my Miss American Pie.

I’ve said for years that she’d make a great president. But please don’t spread that notion around. I’d hate to give up her enlightened leadership skills to a struggling nation and lose her famous roasted apple-crumb pie in the deal.

Meeting her almost 30 years ago was the luckiest day of my life — an encounter in retrospect that seems providential, if not presidential. It’s a story I’ve told only once in a book many years

ago. This is as good a moment to share it with you as any.

On the heels of a wearying, month-long, national book tour for Final Rounds, I was invited to give the keynote speech during the American Lung Association of New York’s three-day golf event and fundraiser in Syracuse.

I’d been amicably divorced for a couple years and shared custody of our two goslings with my former wife. The last thing I wanted to do, however, was trek to Syracuse for yet another golf event and rubber-chicken speech.

But my host was relentless. He not only talked me into coming but set me up with dinner “companions” for the three nights of the event. I don’t know why I said yes.

But I’m glad I did.

The first night’s blind date met me, my host and his wife at the stately Onondaga Country Club where Walter Hagen once belonged. My date was a local poet who showed up late to the table and said nothing until I was asked by my host’s sunny wife if it was true that I received (and replied to) hundreds of letters from fans of my new book. I confirmed that I did.

“That’s nothing,” piped up the poet. “I get pictures from prisoners. They send me photos of their [use your imagination].”

The formal dining room around us was full of elderly diners. Audible gasps and crashing crystal sounded throughout the room. As I walked her to her car, the poet laughed merrily and declared, “I love making rich Republicans uncomfortable!”

“Everybody needs a hobby,” I told her.

The next night’s match was worse. She was the town’s historian. I borrowed my host’s car to take her to a lovely restaurant in the Finger Lakes. She wasn’t planted on the seat beside me for two full seconds before she exclaimed, “I hear you wrote some beloved book about golf. I hate golf. It’s a fascist sport. Golfers are fascist doughboys.”

“So, I guess hitting a bucket of balls before dinner is out of the question,” I remarked.

“You’re &%$#@! right,” she declared. Please use your imagination again. Every other word was a charming expletive. I guess she hated history as well. I got her home in record time.

I asked my host for Number Three’s phone number to cancel the final date. He refused. I demanded her phone number. He wouldn’t budge.

“Her name is Wendy. She’s an incredible baker and mother of two young boys. Everyone in the neighborhood adores her. If you break this date, Sparky, I’ll be as lonely as you are and sleeping on the couch for a month.”

The final dinner was held at the home of our hosts with two additional couples. At the appointed hour, I forgot to go down the block to meet Wendy Ann Buynak at her house. She walked up by herself bearing a plate of homemade chocolate chip shortbread cookies in the shape of acorns. They looked too good to eat and tasted even better.

The minute I saw her standing in the open doorway with that plate of cookies, I realized there was a God (who probably played golf) after all. Third time was the charm. We sat at the end of the table talking only to each other for three solid hours. Then I walked her home.

The next afternoon, we went for a drive and wound up at a

local golf course, where I kissed her. She smiled and kissed me back.

Two weeks later, I drove seven hours for our first date. She put me to work helping to box up 75 beautifully made miniature wedding cakes for a Syracuse bride. I got to eat the 76th cake. It was love at first bite. She also made me a roasted applecrumb pie to take home to my kids.

Is this an All-American love story or what?

Three months later, I introduced Wendy Ann to my two little ones, who instantly fell in love with her and her key lime pie. Two summers later, she and her two young boys joined our family, doubling our size in a lovely backyard marriage ceremony in Maine. I saw the spectacular cake she made but never got a taste. It vanished without a trace before I could get a piece.

This summer marks our 25th wedding anniversary. Miss American Pie and I plan to slip away to our favorite inn for a few days of golf, relaxation, and use your imagination again.

Later this summer, we plan to renew our vows.

I’m reliably informed there will be pie PS

Jim Dodson’s 17th book, The Road That Made America: A Modern Pilgrim Travels the Great Wagon Road, is available at The Country Bookshop.

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A Community Designed for Living Well

At Penick Village, residents enjoy a welcoming Southern Pines community where purposeful living and peace of mind go hand in hand. Our full continuum of care, thoughtfully designed services, and comfortable amenities help make each day easier, more engaging, and more connected. From maintenance-free living and chef-prepared dining to wellness programs, walking paths, enriching activities, and compassionate support when needs change, Penick Village offers a lifestyle centered on dignity, comfort, and belonging.

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PinePitch

Don’t Rain on Our Parade

The annual Independence Day Parade smack in the middle of the village of Pinehurst begins with the pet parade at 9:45 a.m. on Saturday, July 4. If you see someone walking a pet cobra, alert the proper authorities. In the meantime, go deep on the sunscreen because the dignitaries, bands and such march, ride and walk on by until noon. For more information go to www.vopnc.org. or call (910) 295-3642.

�� Days

In a tale of courage and sacrifice, one actor portrays more than 20 characters to tell the story of the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan and a group of veterans who launch a daring rescue mission to save the Afghans who stood beside them in combat. The show begins at 7 p.m. on Friday, July 24, at the Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. For more information go to www.sunrisetheater.com.

Dig This

The young and old can catch Dr. Ashley Oliphant, author of The Ultimate Shell Seeker’s Guide, on Saturday, July 11, at the Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. At 10:30 a.m. the library’s multipurpose room will be converted into an archeological dig for all those Indiana Joneses out there between the ages of 3 and 12. Then, at 1 p.m., Dr. Oliphant will dispense tips to the adults on how to read the tides, moon phases, wind directions, etc., etc. to make your beachcombing experience a success. For more info go to www.sppl.net.

Jazz Age

The Sandhills Community College Jazz Band will present the second show in its summer series, “Swingin’ Come Rain or Shine,” at 6:30 p.m. on Monday, July 13, in BPAC’s Owens Auditorium, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Admission is free, but a ticket is required. For more information go to www.ticketmesandhills.com.

It’s Just Peachy

Make a pit stop — see what we did there? — at the PeachGrass Festival on the grounds at the Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines, on Saturday, July 26, at 6 p.m. The evening of music features local favorite The Orange Markers with Stehen E. Smith, followed by the Grassomatics from Raleigh, and headliner, Appalachian Smoke with Cooper Marona. Gates open at 5 p.m. There will be a cash/card bar by The Gentleman Mobile Bar and grilled favorites by On Demand Chefs. For more information go to www.weymouthcenter.org.

I Coulda Sworn It Was . . .

The Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines, goes deep on tributes in July beginning with “Bring Out Yer Dead,” the Grateful Dead tribute band, on Saturday, July 18, at 6:30 p.m. When they’re done Truckin’ you can listen to “Mamma Mania!” on Thursday, July 23, at 7 p.m., for the full ABBA experience. For info, Fernando, go to www.sunrisetheater.com.

Kaboomshakalaka, Boom!

What could be better than explosive devices and powerfully good music? Begin the celebration of America’s 250th on Friday, July 3, from 6 – 9 p.m., at the Harness Track, 200 Beulah Hill Road S., Pinehurst. There will be music courtesy of The Soul Psychedelique Orchestra, kids’ stuff, dancing, food and beverages for sale . . . and fireworks after 9! For additional info you can call (910) 295-3642 or visit www.vopnc.org.

Up and Over

Sanctioned by the United States Equestrian Federation and the United States Hunter Jumper Association, the Sedgefield at the Park Hunter Jumper Series featuring 250 or so riders continues all day long — we’re talking all day long — July 10-12 at the Carolina Horse Park, 2814 Montrose Road, Raeford. In addition to horses and riders there will be food trucks and vendors on-site. For more information go to www.carolinahorsepark.com.

Photograph by Matthew Gibson

(June 21 – July 22)

It wouldn’t be Cancer season without a few tears, your basic mood swings, and a new pair of house slippers. That said, with Mercury retrograde in your sign until July 23, expect more introspection and — you know you love it — a bit more time at home. Pick up a bodice ripper that you can’t put down. Make a playlist of hits from the year you were born. In other words: Distract yourself from making rash decisions until month’s end.

And even then, try not to get swept up by your own swell.

Tea leaf “fortunes” for the rest of you:

Leo (July 23 – August 22)

Listen to your gurgling gut.

Virgo (August 23 – September 22)

Clean the baseboards.

Libra (September 23 – October 22)

Pass on the potato salad.

Scorpio (October 23 – November 21)

Look for the silver lining.

Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21)

Just let things steep.

Capricorn (December 22 – January 19)

Trust what you already know.

Aquarius (January 20 – February 18)

Stop at the farmstand.

Pisces (February 19 – March 20)

Try firefly therapy.

Aries (March 21 – April 19)

Bring something to the potluck.

Taurus (April 20 – May 20)

Three words: homemade ice cream.

Gemini (May 21 – June 20)

Hit refresh. PS

Zora Stellanova lives in the N.C. mountains with her wolfdogs, Venus and Lilith. Although she prefers divining with loose-leaf puerh, she recommends a mugwort and passionflower blend for those seeking wisdom and clarity from the dream realm.

The Skill of Perseverance

The remarkable second act of John Quincy Adams

By Jim moriarty

If your American

history IQ, like mine, falls somewhere between Animal House’s Flounder — “fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son” — and the great David McCullough, you’ll find America’s Founding Son both an enlightening and rewarding portrayal of our sixth president, John Quincy Adams.

It’s written by Bob Crawford, something of an oddity in itself given he’s the upright bass player for The Avett Brothers band. “For more than two decades, I’ve studied American history while rambling up and down the interstates, freeways, and back roads of America,” Crawford writes in his introduction. While not exactly an autodidact, his lifelong fascination, beginning as a kid collecting fliers about historic landmarks at highway welcome centers, places him in the company of another member of the band, Scott Avett, who has a side hustle as an admired visual artist.

until his death in 1848, when he collapsed at his desk in the House chamber and died two days later on a couch in the Speaker’s Room in the Capitol building. During those 17 years, Adams became a formidable opponent of slavery, argued the Amistad case before the Supreme Court, defeated the “gag” rule designed to muffle anti-slavery petitions, and outmaneuvered efforts, led by representatives of the “slavocracy,” as Crawford calls it, to censure him.

“John Quincy Adams may not have been an extraordinary president like Washington and Lincoln, but he is our most extraordinary ex-president. A maverick. A public servant. An American hero,” Crawford concludes.

With the recent passing of Ted Turner, one is reminded of the quote he often attributed to his father, “Be sure to set your goals so high that you can’t possibly accomplish them in one lifetime.” This is, in fact, the crux of Crawford’s thesis about Adams and the goal was, or became, the abolition of slavery. His primary source is Adams’ own diaries, written faithfully on a daily basis, that illuminate the arc of JQA’s understanding of how America must eventually, and tragically, cope with its most egregious and contradictory failing.

Jimmy Carter is often extolled as a man who, in the modern age at least, made the most of his post presidency, but he was a piker compared to John Quincy, who, after losing the presidential race of 1828, briefly considered retiring from public life but instead won election to the U.S. House of Representatives. He served the citizens of Massachusetts in that capacity from 1831

Adams’ opposition to slavery was never in question, but his theories on what exactly to do about it evolved over time, a transition Crawford illustrates through Adams’ diary and speeches. “America’s founding son had reached the end of his patience,” Crawford writes of an 1844 clash on the House floor. “He shuddered in 1820, when he prophesied a violent dissolution of the Union, but all he had experienced in the nearly twenty-five years since proved to him that the South would never, ever, voluntarily or otherwise, give up being the enslavers.”

Crawford’s fascination with the period of American history between the War of 1812 and the Civil War came into focus after reading Sean Wilentz’s The Rise of American Democracy: Jefferson to Lincoln. His own study of John Quincy is divided into three acts. The first begins with Adams’ appointment as secretary of state under James Monroe, covers his election to the presidency in the House of Representatives in 1824 (the second time the young republic picked a president in that manner), his loss to Andrew Jackson in their rematch in 1828 and concludes with the voters of Plymouth, Massachusetts, sending him to the House as their representative. In act two Crawford does an admirable job of setting the table. “In 1835, the slavery issue was tearing the fabric of the nation apart. Its threads tossed into a smoldering furnace of bigotry and hate. And there was Adams. A witness to all of

it. Sitting on the fence. Waiting for his moment.” That moment builds to a crescendo in act three.

The political figures of the day — Jackson, Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, Martin Van Buren — are carefully drawn, as are the central issues of nullification (What if the federal government says one thing and a state refuses?) and what to do about Texas. Of equal, or even greater, interest are the abolitionists: Benjamin Lundy, Charles Finney, Theodore Weld, Arthur Tappan (full disclosure, the square at my alma mater is named Tappan Square), William Lloyd Garrison and the writings of David Walker.

When Crawford first pitched the idea of America’s Founding Son to his agent, he thought he’d be paired with a writer to produce the final work. Instead, he was left to his own devices. The result is highly readable, no small feat when you’re bound to be leaning on quotes written in the first half of the 19th century. If there is any complaint — and it is admittedly minor — it’s that on a rare occasion or two he strays too far into the vernacular of his own day, seemingly trying a bit too hard to prove that history doesn’t have to be tedious and dense. This is, perhaps, an innocent byproduct of cohosting his history podcast, “The Road to Now.”

Where Crawford ends up is in praise of a historical figure most of us, I’d venture to say, don’t often associate with greatness. “Adams brought the issue of slavery out of the darkness and into the light of the center of politics in the United States — the

People’s House. John Quincy Adams preserved and protected the American democracy established by the founding generation — his father’s generation,” writes Crawford. “As the man standing in the breach, Adams passed the aspirations of the Declaration of Independence on to the next generation. With one hand reaching back to the founding and the other reaching forward toward the Civil War, John Quincy Adams is a bridge and perhaps the best representation of America’s tortured adolescence.”

If, in reading Founding Son, you see traces of modern America — our deeply flawed and fractured America — so does Crawford. “I can’t say for sure whether history repeats or rhymes, but I do notice echoes from the past in our present. That’s because history is driven by people — and people haven’t changed since 1776,” he writes. “Truth be told, people haven’t changed since Adam and Eve, or however you signify the beginning of time (or should I say history?). Spend a little time reading about the 1830s and 1840s, and you’ll encounter figures who feel eerily familiar. They dressed differently, used different slang and communicated via what now seem like antiquated technologies — but in a very real sense, we are them and they are us.” PS

Jim Moriarty is the editor of PineStraw. He can be reached at jjmpinestraw@gmail.com

KEEPING THE FLOW: A Family Legacy at Ray’s Plumbing

In an era of rapid growth and consolidation, family-run businesses still reflect what service used to feel like—personal, dependable, and rooted in community. Family Rooted celebrates that spirit, and few embody it like Ray’s Plumbing.

The story begins in 1979, when Ray set out with a simple but powerful goal: to do honest work, treat customers right, and build trust one job at a time. Armed with little more than his tools and determination, he showed up when people needed him most—often sacrificing family, sleep and any sense of certainty. With no guarantees, every step forward was hard-earned, each small opportunity laying the foundation for something greater. There were no shortcuts or safety nets—just long days, uncertain nights, and the unwavering belief that if he kept showing up, consistency would become his reputation.

Two decades later, the business entered a new chapter shaped not just by legacy, but by family. Ray’s daughter, LeAnn, joined the business in 1999. Originally on a path toward nursing, she shifted to business to meet a growing need. What began as support quickly grew into leadership.

Today, LeAnn solely runs daily operations—managing customers, schedules, and every aspect of the office, from answering calls to handling payroll. Ray remains a steady presence and a trusted source of expertise. Together, they bridge two generations: one that built it from nothing, and one that drives it forward.

At the core of Ray’s Plumbing is something that cannot be manufactured or scaled—experience. Even after more than 50 years in the trade, Ray remains the person others turn to when a job proves especially difficult or unusual. His knowledge forms the backbone of the business, offering a quiet assurance that no problem is too complex to solve.

That level of expertise has earned him a rare kind of respect—one built over decades and recognized by both customers and peers alike.

For LeAnn, carrying that legacy forward is both an honor and a responsibility. Every decision she makes reflects the values her father established: integrity, reliability, and genuine care for the people they serve.

In a business landscape where success is often measured by growth, Ray’s Plumbing has chosen a different path. Remaining small is not a limitation—it is a deliberate choice.

It allows for something increasingly rare: a truly personal customer experience.

When customers call, they aren’t navigating automated systems or being passed between departments. They’re speaking directly with LeAnn. When a technician arrives, they bring more than technical skill; they carry a family name that has been trusted for generations.

That kind of service doesn’t happen by accident. It’s the result of intention.

More than four decades after its founding, Ray’s Plumbing stands as proof that success isn’t defined by size, but by impact. By the relationships built over time. By the trust earned one interaction at a time.

They build something deeper.

They build belief.

And in doing so, they become more than a business—they become part of the community’s story.

July Books

FICTION

Man Overboard! by Kathleen Rooney

Patrick “Kick” Kilpatrick, a former college swimmer, hates the ocean. Has always been terrified of it. And now he’s in a real pickle. Drifting alone in the sea after falling (or jumping?), Kick must survive. Breath by breath, hour by hour in the lonely sea. As the waves crash over him, so do the thoughts and memories of just how he got there. A Thanksgiving cruise with an obnoxious brother-in-law; a father who gives the Great Santini a run for his money; and a mother who already left the family boat, so to speak, a long time ago. His family may be complicated, and the pains of life may seem unbearable — infuriating enough to leap from the deck — but maybe the will to survive is stronger. Inventive and slyly hilarious Man Overboard! is about what keeps us going no matter how choppy the waves of our journey become.

Habits of the Sea, by Shea Ernshaw

The night Clay Lockhart’s wife dies, a violent storm tears their home — and the eight hectares of land beneath it — away from the Scottish coast, sending it adrift into the Atlantic. Thirty years later, 12-year-old Ellie Mills discovers the fabled floating island off the coast of Nova Scotia and finds Clay still living in the weatherworn farmhouse perched on its highest hill. When the island vanishes overnight, Ellie is left questioning whether it ever existed at all. Decades later, the island resurfaces, and Ellie, now in her 30s, returns, determined to uncover the truth. What she finds is even stranger: Clay hasn’t aged a single day. Faced with the impossible, Ellie learns that some mysteries aren’t meant to be solved, and that a life shaped by wonder may hold more promise than one bound by certainty.

NONFICTION

All That’s Unseen: An Appalachian Memoir, by Emilee Hackney

Born and raised deep in the hollers of the Appalachian

Mountains, Emilee Hackney knew little beyond the ridgelines and coalfields of southwest Virginia. As an eighth-generation Appalachian, her childhood was steeped in the stories of her grandparents — tales of the coal mines’ brutal grip and the way the land, both beautiful and unforgiving, never quite let anyone go. At 14, Emilee meets Sam, a senior at her high school, who offers her a glimpse at a promising future together. But as they begin attending services at Deliverance Christian Church as a couple, Emilee is thrust into the radical realm of Pentecostalism. In a culture where marriage at 19 isn’t uncommon, Emilee is engaged to Sam. Eager to make her relationship work, she embraces the extremist doctrines of the religion, submitting herself fully to God, to Sam, and to a life of repentance. But what she doesn’t yet know is the man she plans to marry is not who he claims to be. Years later, Emilee finds herself isolated from friends, family and her own sense of truth. Wracked with shame and self-doubt, she reaches a breaking point. On the verge of spiraling out of control, in a stunning act of defiance and hope, she applies to Harvard; against all odds, she is accepted. From the magisterial mountains of Tazewell to the halls of Cambridge, Emilee begins the arduous process of reinventing herself and her relationships with her home, faith and values.

Utopia for Our Century: A Manifesto of Hope, by David Albertson and Jason Blakely

In Thomas More’s Utopia, a traveler from the New World delivers a shocking message: On a lost island beyond the horizon, people live far better lives than in Europe. More, a leading intellectual of his day, was murdered by Henry VIII in 1535 for refusing to sign a loyalty oath, but his utopian vision inspired some of the most consequential movements in the modern world. In their provocative manifesto, Albertson and Blakely retrieve More’s insights and apply them to our moment.

Lost in Curiosity: Field Notes from Scientists’ Adventures into the Unknown, by Roberta Kwok

The real story of science isn’t a triumphant breakthrough. It’s messy, mysterious and deeply human. Chronicling researchers’ struggles and hopes in the field and lab, Kwok documents it all: fending off relentless snowfall on a remote Greenland glacier; desperately searching for an elusive frog in the rainforests of Borneo; and scrambling to capture fleeting signals of a faraway moon outside our solar system. These are the untold stories of devoted young scientists and restless minds chasing nature’s riddles. From enigmatic fossils and mindbending physics to the puzzling behavior of wild animals, Lost in Curiosity is a journey through the questions that keep scientists up at night.

The Secret World of Twilight: A Natural History of Dusk and Dawn, by Sally Coulthard

Every day, in the brief stretch of time just before sunrise and soon after sunset, magic happens. Twice a day the atmosphere is partially illuminated by a sun that’s hiding below the horizon, creating a sky that glows with soft, diffused light — opening the secret world of twilight. Circadian rhythms affect almost all living things, including animals, plants and even microbes. They, of course, profoundly affect us too. In a world when so many of us live according to rhythms defined by artificial light, or in spaces that remove any connection with the outside, the need to understand and celebrate twilight has never been greater. Coulthard celebrates 30 iconic and often surprising animals and plants that thrive in this liminal, otherworldly space.

CHILDREN’S BOOKS

Weaver and the Web, by Chris Baker

A long night ahead means plenty of time for web-making and bugcatching for this meticulous orb-weaver spider in this nonfiction picture book that captures the spider’s point of view. With gentle text and arresting art, this read-aloud leads you through the ups and downs of one orb-weaver spider’s night. From making her web, re-making her web, and eventually ensnaring some succulent moths, this moonlit adventure encourages you to see the world from a spider’s perspective. (Ages 4-8.)

Yeti Is Not Ready for Game Over, by Leigh Anne Carter

It is time to take a break from screens, but Yeti is NOT ready. She is so close to winning this fun game on her tablet! She doesn’t have time for chores, lunch or even friends! Can Yeti put the tablet down? Or will she find a way to stay glued to her screen? With a little compassionate help from Dad, Yeti Is Not Ready shows just how hard it can be to get off the screen — and how good for our bodies, brains and ideas taking a break can be. (Ages 3-7.) PS

Compiled by Kimberly Daniels Taws, manager of The Country Bookshop.

By Bill Fields

Like many

Over There

A wee bit of wonderful

Americans, I first experienced the British Open — what most in the United States called that golf major championship during the 1970s — through television. ABC Sports broadcasts weren’t long by today’s dawnto-dusk standards but were revealing: the rumpled landscape, khaki-colored turf if it had been dry, and shorter-than-usual flagsticks. Slacks billowed in the wind. Balls finished in precarious lies in steep-faced bunkers. I learned a new word: firth.

When I watched those Opens, the links seemed a faraway golf universe that were out of reach, places I would only ever see on TV.

Happily, I was wrong. If my addition of all the jet lag, stunning skies, spitting rain, lager shandies, breakfast beans, roundabouts, mysterious shower controls and BBC Radio news is correct, this month’s Open Championship at Royal Birkdale will be my 22nd time at golf’s oldest tournament.

Getting to see a lot of the U.S. and a little of the world is not something I was counting on as a child. An annual vacation to North Myrtle Beach this time of year was about the extent of my family’s travels. I didn’t fly until I was of voting age and certainly couldn’t have anticipated making a couple of dozen trips to the British Isles covering golf in one fashion or another across four decades, whether for an Open, Ryder Cup or Solheim Cup.

I’ve been to The Open in various roles: photographer, reporter and, more recently, television researcher for NBC Sports. For me, there haven’t been as many trips to The Open as to the three American-based men’s majors, but the trips abroad stand out, beginning with the first one in 1988, at Royal Lytham & St. Annes.

The wind was howling in what felt like gale force when I walked outside my bed and breakfast in Blackpool the first morning in England. I heard an elderly man on the sidewalk describe the wind to his companion as a “wee breeze.” I’m no stranger to pushing drives far to the right without meteorological influence,

but while I was playing a local course later that day, the wind carried one of my tee shots farther offline than any before or since. That ball might still be on its errant journey.

By the weekend, rain was the story. It came down so hard on Saturday that multiple greens were flooded, the third round was abandoned, and a rare Monday finish was in the cards. That extra day turned out to be memorable, with Seve Ballesteros shooting 65 to win his fifth — and final — major over Nick Price and Nick Faldo.

An Open in St. Andrews stands out. I’ve been fortunate to work four at the Home of Golf. Faldo outdueled Greg Norman over the weekend in 1990. John Daly defeated Costantino Rocca in a playoff in 1995. Louis Oosthuizen got a favorable late-early draw and avoided a beastly Friday afternoon wind on his way to a seven-shot win in 2010. Cameron Smith prevailed in the 150th Open in 2022, when Rory McIlroy couldn’t buy a putt on Sunday.

On my 2010 visit to the “Auld Grey Toun,” I spent some pleasant idle hours, camera in hand, on the West Sands, the wide, 2-mile stretch of beach featured in the opening scene of the 1981 film Chariots of Fire. As at many Scottish locales, the sky there can change moods in minutes, going from angry to serene.

Whatever has transpired during the day while on assignment at an Open, après-work can soothe the soul when you’re with colleagues whose company you enjoy having a couple of pints or a good curry — or better still, a couple of pints with a good curry. Just remember, discretion is the better part of valor over there when a server in an Indian restaurant asks you how spicy you want your meal. Years ago, I witnessed a vindaloo in Troon cause more pain than a pot bunker ever could.

I’ve held on to plenty of tournament press badges issued to me over the years — the collection maps where I’ve been and what I’ve done — but my favorites are ones from my first decade going to The Open. They’re simple paperboard credentials with a short loop of string — a style long since replaced by larger ones with a head shot, bar code and lanyard — and they have stories to tell. PS

Southern Pines native Bill Fields, who writes about golf and other things, moved north in 1986 but hasn’t lost his accent.

Doing the Wave

From Ocracoke to Rockingham

By tommy tomlinson

Summer comes in waves.

Many years ago I went through a rough stretch, mostly of my own making, and ended up needing to clear my head for a while. I drove to the Outer Banks, traveling alone. I took the ferry from Swan Quarter to Ocracoke, piddled around in the village for a couple of hours, then aimed the car for Hatteras.

It takes time to learn some lessons. For example, when waves of heat are rising from a car, it’s not a good time to sit on the hood wearing shorts. The backs of my thighs learned that one the hard way.

Ocracoke tapers to a thin strand that can be secluded even in high season. I found a spot to pull over and stepped between dunes onto an empty beach. Not a soul in either direction. The only sounds were the wind and the waves. Those waves: calm and steady, a wet metronome. I got in and rolled in the warm ocean like an otter. Every so often a wave would give me a gentle slap. Snap out of it, son. Everything’s going to be fine.

The waves are even milder on rivers and lakes, at least usually. When you see whitecaps on fresh water you know a storm is coming. That’s when you pull up anchor and gun the outboard and hope you get back to the landing before the sky breaks open. Waves can be a warning, too.

They can also be a mirage. When I was a kid I was mesmerized every summer by the shining puddles that always appeared up ahead on the road, only to disappear when we got close. Much later I found out it’s called heat shimmer, and it happens when a surface like asphalt gets much hotter than the air just above it, refracting the light in between. The same thing on sand creates a false oasis — the thing that drives desert wanderers crazy in the movies.

That road shimmer was my introduction to the idea that some things in life are always dancing just out of your reach, and that maybe they were never really there in the first place.

It also took time to learn that people in other places don’t wave the way we do in the South. This especially applies to what I think of as the two-lane wave — the wave you give somebody when you’re slowly passing them in a car. To me, there are a couple of times when that wave is mandatory. One, if you’re out in the country and drive by somebody on the side of the road. Two, if you’re on a narrow street or at a four-way stop and somebody lets you through. I live in a neighborhood with a lot of narrow streets, and my experience is that you get the wave about half the time. Every time I don’t get the wave, I always wonder where up North the driver came from. This is not fair. But barring any proper research I’m gonna roll with it.

You might know about the debate over exactly what Bruce Springsteen sings in the first line of “Thunder Road.” The screen door slams / Mary’s dress . . . What’s the next word? On the record it’s hard to tell. I have always heard it as Mary’s dress sways. Springsteen’s manager has said that it’s definitely “sways.” It feels to me like the most poetic word, the most evocative. But many other Springsteen fans — including my dear friend Joe Posnanski, a fellow Charlottean — swear that the line is, or at least should be, Mary’s dress waves. Joe has written thousands of words about this over the years. It is one of those debates that means everything and nothing, much the same way that it means everything and nothing to argue about the greatest baseball player of all time. (Joe, who wrote an entire book called The Baseball 100, says Willie Mays; the correct answer is Henry

Aaron.) Joe has not convinced me on “waves” and probably never will. But when I play “Thunder Road,” I always listen close to that first line. I kind of want to hear “waves,” at least one time. Not because I want Joe to be right, but because you should try, when you can, to feel what someone else feels.

I had a neighbor one time who loved to listen to NASCAR on the radio. Every Sunday afternoon in the summer he would take his old AM/FM portable out to the patio behind his trailer and turn on the race from Rockingham or Martinsville or wherever. This was back in the ’70s, when Richard Petty won most of the time, Cale Yarborough and Bobby Allison occasionally gave him hell, and David Pearson lingered at the back of the pack, waiting to strike. I wasn’t much of a fan of racing, but I was a fan of my neighbor. So sometimes I’d go over there and we’d drink cold Cokes and listen to the howling engines, those sound waves traveling from the track through the radio to our ears in ways that I still do not fully understand.

The one thing waves have in common is that they carry energy. Something desires to get from one place to another and a wave is the vehicle. That can be a pulse from somewhere deep in the ocean or the attraction from someone who caught your eye across the room. We are out more this time of year, exposed to the energies of the universe, and open to the waves that life brings our way.

Sometimes they are so powerful they can knock you sideways. But most of the time they’re just a pleasant ride, carrying us through the shimmer of a summer day and the promise of a summer night. PS

Tommy Tomlinson is the author of two books, The Elephant in the Room and Dogland. He was a longtime columnist for the Charlotte Observer and has written for Esquire, The Atlantic, ESPN the Magazine and many other publications. His online newsletter is called The Writing Shed. He lives in Charlotte with his wife, Alix Felsing.

We’re Moving!

After 45 amazing years, we will be leaving our downtown Southern Pines location this August.

We will reopen in Seven Lakes soon! Check our Facebook page for updates.

Special thanks to Louis and Pat Scribner for the support of our local business over the last 13 years.

148 East New Hampshire Ave., Southern Pines Tues - Fri 12 to 5, Saturday 12 to 4 • (910) 692-3749

Paloma

story and P hotogra Ph By tony Cross

When it comes to tequila cocktails, there are none that come close in popularity to the margarita. Though not nearly as popular, the cocktail that is next in line is the paloma. A very simple drink to make, the paloma is light, refreshing, and perfect for hot weather sipping.

Spanish for “the dove,” the paloma was supposedly created by bartender Don Javier Delgado Corona (more names than ingredients in the drink) in Tequila, Jalisco — though I’ve read that Corona has denied that claim. The easiest, and most probable, story is that the drink was created when the grapefruit soda, Squirt, was popularized in Mexico in the 1950s. Tequila over ice, topped with the sweet carbonated beverage seems like a no-brainer.

That’s one way to make a paloma, but there are others. Regardless of the version you choose, you’ll want to be sure to use a blanco tequila — it has all of the flavor you’ll want that hasn’t been adulterated with notes of vanilla or cinnamon. And by all means, save the aged agave for imbibing neat or in stirred cocktails. The paloma also requires fresh grapefruit, lime, a sweetener and sparkling water.

If there is a cocktail that has anything carbonated in it, I want the whole thing carbonated. Mixing a carbonated liquid and a still liquid quickly flattens whatever bubbles existed in the first place. For me, it’s all or nothing. To achieve this, I clarify the grapefruit and lime juices using a centrifuge, then add the juices to a stainless steel keg with sugar, water and tequila. I carbonate everything in the keg for 24 hours and then pour on draught.

Specifications

2 ounces blanco tequila

1½ ounces grapefruit juice

½ ounce fresh lime juice

½ ounce simple syrup

5 drops saline solution

1½ ounces sparkling water

Execution

Add all ingredients (sans sparkling water) into a cocktail shaker and add ice. Shake hard and strain into a Collins glass over ice. Top with sparkling water. Stir briefly. Garnish with grapefruit or lime wedge, grapefruit peel or nothing at all.

There is, of course, the question of salt. Yes, you can add it to the rim of your glass à la a margarita, but I would suggest adding it to the cocktail itself. The addition amplifies the citrus flavors. Making a 4:1 (water: salt) saline solution is the easiest way for me to stay consistent (I use 80 grams of water to 20 grams of Celtic salt). Try a paloma with Squirt and then try making it from scratch with the recipe on the right, and decide which one you prefer. I guarantee either one will help beat the summer heat. PS

Tony Cross is an on-again, off-again bartender who founded and runs Reverie Cocktails, a kegged cocktail distribution company that has been represented everywhere from dive bars to baseball stadiums.

Bitter, Meet Sweet

Grapefruit and strawberry popsicles

In my younger years not even a generous sprinkling of sugar would have gotten me excited about eating grapefruit. Now I can’t get enough of it — sans sugar, of course — which makes for a textbook example of an “acquired taste.”

So, how exactly do we grow fond of things we may not have liked at the get-go? How on earth did we come to enjoy black coffee, blue cheese or sauerkraut? I still haven’t figured out how single malt whiskey goes down the hatch without retching — and it may not be for me to find out in this lifetime.

But the answer is, of course: habit. Repeated exposure to certain foods, with some initial modifications perhaps, will gradually get us accustomed to strange flavors and textures. Add sentimental attachment, or “associative learning,” to the experience — as in social bonding over a round of IPAs with friends, or escargots with family as a special holiday tradition — and you’re well on your way to acquiring a taste.

Back to the grapefruit: Thanks to Mother Nature, we are hard-wired to be wary of bitterness as a survival mechanism. Many toxic compounds are bitter, though of course not all bitter compounds are harmful. On top of that, grapefruits are sour and astringent. The hardest part may be that, unlike coffee or booze, there is no immediate functional reward in eating grapefruit. Enjoying it is entirely based on accomplishing the process of learning to love it.

Although bitter is my jam this summer, even I like my popsicles on the sweeter side and fortunately, I can have my cake and eat it too. Grapefruit, with the addition of strawberries, gets you the best of both worlds. Blending grapefruit with strawberries creates a harmony where the sharp, astringent bite of the citrus cuts through the sweetness of the berries, creating a complex flavor profile.

I can’t say for sure that there is a kid-friendly version of these popsicles, but omitting ginger and dialing up the sweetness might get your young ones to enjoy them too. Who knows, maybe that’s where their love of bitter things begins. PS

German native Rose Shewey is a food stylist and food photographer. To see more of her work visit her website at suessholz.com.

Grapefruit Strawberry Popsicles

(Makes 4-6 popsicles)

1 grapefruit, peeled, seeded and chopped

1 apple, cored and sliced

2 cups strawberries, fresh or frozen

1/2 inch knob fresh ginger, peeled and chopped

3/4 cup filtered water

1-3 tablespoons sweetener (such as honey, maple syrup — optional)

Combine all ingredients in a blender and process until smooth. Taste for sweetness; if required, add sweetener, one tablespoon at a time (such as honey or maple syrup) and blend again. Pour juice into popsicle molds and freeze for 4-6 hours, or until frozen solid.

story and P hotogra Ph By rose shewey

The Survivor

A little geranium that could

By deBorah salomon

Of all the things I wanted in vain, the most poignant is a garden. Not that I had gardening parents or the proper geography. My first 11 years were spent in a New York City apartment. However, the seed was planted, so to speak, during summers spent with my grandparents in Greensboro, where Granddaddy had a huge plot. Early mornings and late afternoons (after returning from hours of laying bricks in the scorching sun), he grew vegetables for the family table. I trailed along behind . . . “helping.”

Ah, the tomatoes, their shiny skin bursting with juice. The okra, beans, “English” peas. The heavenly corn. The “greens.”

Nanny’s zinnias, equally amazing.

I marveled that every one started as a tiny seed. How did that happen, deep beneath the sodden earth?

My adult years were spent in less garden-worthy climates, part of a family committed to sports, not prized roses. Besides, I had hayfever, made worse by sticking my face into a flower bed. I didn’t derive pleasure from fighting bugs or pulling weeds. They always win.

Still, every spring I would buy a big geranium, which I “planted” in a clay pot and set on the front steps. Driving directions always ended with, “Ours is the house with the red-pink-violetwhite geranium on the steps.”

Never orange. Orange-ish geraniums lack elegance.

We moved several times as the children grew up, then left. The late ’80s found me in a little house in Vermont built against a steep hill, which meant an aboveground walk-out basement, with windows and wide sills, finished off as a guest bedroom. At the end of October I brought the geranium in, cut down the

stem, put the pot on the sill, closed the curtains and forgot about it.

The basement bedroom got little use that winter. By May it needed a good cleaning. I pulled up the shade . . . and gasped. Out of the shriveled stalk grew a tiny green shoot with one mini-leaf. The soil was dry, hard after no water for six cold, dark months. Only now the sun streaming through the window promised warmth, longer and better days. This tiny kernel of life had received the message and responded.

I recall shedding a tear, then consulting a garden-club friend for instructions on how to proceed: Don’t flood it, she said. Just a spoonful of warm water near the stem, every day — and don’t move it. Nature has found a way.

I was touched and, once again, saddened that I hadn’t made growing part of my life, not because I wanted a house full of fresh flowers, or white eggplant for supper. Rather, to see what a tiny seed can do to survive.

Up North, folks plant or put out flowers around Memorial Day. My geranium, relocated to the front steps, was coming along but nothing like the MiracleGro specimens from the nursery.

A neighbor asked why I hadn’t replaced the scrawny survivor. No, no, I responded, anthropomorphically. I like this one’s spirit.

I have told the geranium story before, when times were tough. This past winter brought some health challenges that linger. Adjusting isn’t easy. Then, seemingly out of nowhere the spunky little geranium came to mind, symbolizing the garden I never had but also suggesting resilience.

I haven’t had a front stoop geranium for a while. The clay pot kept getting knocked over by a Southern Pines raccoon. Geraniums are expensive. Ditto clay pots. But, given the mess the world is in, maybe I should head over to the farmers market for a little encouragement.PS

Deborah Salomon is a contributing writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She may be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.

Carolina Newcomer

A summer visitor from down south

By susan CamPBell

The limpkin is not a familiar bird to many in our area, but this good-sized wader isn’t a complete stranger to North Carolina. Over the years there have been plenty of sightings, and there is a good chance there will be plenty more — so much so that the species may be breeding here before much longer.

Although we hear a lot about birds that are in trouble — those disappearing from their usual haunts as a result of habitat loss, climate change, predation by invasive species, etc. — there are some that are actually becoming more widespread. Slowly but surely, the limpkin is one of these.

Limpkins, native to the subtropical region of the Americas, are wading birds that eat a variety of aquatic invertebrates. They are brown with white spangles and blotches, long legs and, most importantly, a relatively long decurved bill. Appearing a lot like a heron or ibis, they are actually more closely related to rails, those secretive smaller birds found lurking in marshy habitat. Their slightly offset bills are specialized for extracting the bodies of apple snails from their twisty shells, but they are equipped to get into a variety of mussels and clams as well. It is thought that the birds’ name originates from their halting gait as well as an odd running style when pursued.

Here in the U.S., limpkins were once confined to the wetter parts of Florida as well as the coastal marshes of the Gulf Coast

states. Over the past few decades, however, they have been spotted farther north in Georgia and southern South Carolina. Given that they now even breed in a few locations “south of the border,” it’s no wonder that individuals have been spotted here in our state. The first was reported along the North Carolina coast (no surprise) in 1975, but in more recent years, they have been found in the Piedmont, too. There have also been a handful of sightings in our western counties. I saw my first N.C. limpkin during the summer of 1998 in a marshy water hazard at a golf course community close to New Bern.

The expansion of this species can be connected to multiple factors. First, invasive mollusks such as Asiatic clams and apple snails have become more abundant in freshwater systems across the Southeast in recent years. That spread of a ready food source, coupled with warmer winters, has provided additional habitat for limpkins. Furthermore, increasingly frequent and prolonged drought within their historic range has resulted in more birds roaming northward in search of the wet habitat they require.

With the summer of 2026 likely to be a dry one in the Southeast, it is very likely some limpkins will arrive here in the weeks ahead. A number of individuals showed up late in the summer of 2023 and persisted well into the fall. If you happen to be out at any of the larger reservoirs, or even along a creek or near a retention pond, keep an eye out — you just might spot one of these unusual creatures on the prowl for a meal or a new summer hangout. PS

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

My Sunbeam

A boy and his car

By ron Johnson

During my junior year of high school, my dad brought home a brand-new Carnival Red 1969 Sunbeam Alpine GT, manufactured by Rootes Motor Company of Coventry, England. The Alpine was assembled under the auspices of Chrysler UK at the Ryton-onDunsmore plant in Warwickshire, a former aircraft engine plant. The original beloved and much coveted Sunbeam Alpine roadster was also born and eventually died there.

Even though my dad grew up in a strict GM culture, he eventually became a devout Chrysler-Mopar guy. He was a bit like Henry Hill’s mother in Goodfellas. She didn’t care that Henry’s employers were mobsters; all that mattered was that they were from the same part of Sicily. There was not much information available on the ill-conceived 1969 Sunbeam, but all my dad needed to know was that it was a Chrysler product.

The deal was that I would pay him as much as I could toward the $2,535 price (plus tax and tags, of course) whenever I could, until he was satisfied that I was substantially paid up. Considering my menial and short-lived jobs at Burger Chef, Tony’s Hardware and the New Orleans riverfront, among other places, it would take some time.

This was not the Sunbeam Alpine roadster of James Bond, Arnold Schwarzenegger or even Grace Kelly. It never appeared in any movie. It was a car that was hastily conceived and designed to be sold by Dodge dealers in the U.S. as nothing more than a cute, entry-level economy car — a captive import aimed poorly at Japanese and German imports, like Nissan, Toyota and Volkswagen. It was actually a very attractive little fastback coupe — not accidentally reminiscent of the iconic Plymouth Barracuda — and the idea could have worked well for Chrysler Corporation but, for reasons that would soon become obvious, only a handful were sold in North America.

My bright red Sunbeam was an instant standout, mostly because it was flashy and unique. I doubt 20 were sold in my hometown of New Orleans, but it was an attention-grabber. Unfortunately, most of that attention was afforded by the service department at Gentilly Dodge. Before we got the car on semi-solid footing, many significant components had already failed and had been replaced. If I chose to operate the manual windows, I was likely to come away with the crank in my hand. The side windows would also fall out of their flimsy channels on their way up or down.

The build logic on the car was amazingly inept. It had obviously been rushed to market and possessed the worst traits of any English car ever built, which was a powerful statement. It was naturally air-conditioned by the hot and humid nights of South Louisiana, and there was no radio until I installed an aftermarket Telefunken. The car was full of devilment.

Many of the problems presented themselves before 12,000 miles, which was the extent of a new car warranty in those days. Common replacement parts were largely unavailable from the dealer, or anywhere else, and techs resorted to cannibalizing new car inventory to honor warranty commitments.

The pillarless coupe was vastly different from the typical car produced in the U.K. It was said to replicate a cabriolet with a hardtop attached. If anyone had been honest, they would have admitted the two-door “fastback” design was just another way to save costs. It was neither water- nor airtight. The Lucas electrical system was quirky and inept. In fact, Lucas was said to be part of the reason English cars once had a reputation for poor reliability. Amusingly, car enthusiasts referred to Lucas as “the Prince of Darkness” for its alleged propensity to leave drivers stranded in the dark. Rocker Ozzy Osbourne, another “Prince of Darkness,” once worked for Lucas and was believed by some to have stolen his famous nickname from his infamous employer.

The Alpine GT was not without beauty and character, however. It was much like an attractive and temperamental actress, with excellent makeup and great hair color, but was flawed in almost every other way, often requiring a high level of maintenance. All the misery was transpiring while the outside world was saying, “Isn’t that a pretty little car.”

On one Saturday afternoon just before our high school

graduation, the late David Peralta and I decided to take two of our more adventurous female friends on a 300-mile road trip to visit a college that had a reputation for being a party school. The plan was to party into the evening with older kids we knew, and then drive back home, getting the girls safely back into their front vestibules in time to honor their strict 1 a.m. curfews.

On our way back to New Orleans, along highway 190 near Krotz Springs, Louisiana, I heard a loud thumping sound coming from the engine compartment. Upon inspection, we saw a broken and frayed fan belt lodged near the water pump pulley. Naturally, it was a Lucas-supplied part. Help was unavailable. After sitting in the driver’s seat for 30 minutes, on a shoulder made of oyster shells, pondering how we were going to explain being stranded in the middle of Cajun nowhere, I had an idea. Could we fashion a pair of pantyhose into a makeshift fan belt?

Fortunately, both girls were wearing replacement parts. I did my best to replicate the belt in terms of length, doubling the nylons for strength. The first pair lasted about 30 miles. The second and stronger pair got us into Baton Rouge, where we were able to find an Esso station (before it was rebranded Exxon) on Airline Highway that had some belts hanging in the back of their service bay. The young attendant let us do some experimenting until we found a $6 Atlas V-belt that did well enough to get us back to New Orleans. While the two fathers were not happy we busted curfew, my dad praised me for my out-of-the-box thinking.

A lot happened in and around that little coupe. Money was exchanged when a good friend, Jay Whittington, was able to lift the rear end of the car clear off the ground. On another occasion, my 18 year-old girlfriend learned the basics of driving a stick shift in the Alpine while I pushed her out of the sand along Lake Pontchartrain in Slidell. It got me to Superbowl IV, where a $7 ticket allowed me admittance into the North End of Tulane Stadium to watch the Chiefs beat the Vikings 23-7, before 80,000 fans.

The

could frequently be seen

Christ Church Anglican

Appalachian Smoke Cooper Marona

PLEASURES OF LIFE

in the parking lot of the Rockery Inn, where bellhops would deliver, without the presentation of an ID, cocktails or beer to a tray hanging on the driver’s side window, regardless of whether food had been ordered. And, amazingly, it also got me back and forth to college without incident, more times than not.

The car also gave life and was perfectly capable when it was most needed. Early in my freshman year of college, it reliably transported my roommate and his girl friend, who had hidden her pregnancy, to the hospital an hour before she delivered a beautiful baby girl. Their plan was to give the baby up for adoption and never tell their parents. They had everything care fully mapped out. And they would have gotten away with the ill-fated plan had the hospital not hunted the new mother down through the university for a $29 payment and mailed the bill to her parents’ home. I don’t know what happened to either of them, or the baby, who would be in her mid-50s now, but I am grateful the fickle Sunbeam started that night.

In 2009, I visited Birmingham in the U.K. for a conference. Driving back to Heathrow, I took a detour and stopped in Coventry to gaze at where that old Sunbeam had been produced some 40 years earlier. The vintage Rootes fac tory had been demolished. Adjacent buildings were in ill repair. There was nothing romantic about it. I didn’t know what to think or how to react. Should I pray, shake my fist, or just quietly walk away? After all, an important piece of my personal history started there. I simply bowed, smiled, and got back into a com fortable rental car, built by Rover.

I once told my dad, not long before he died, that I was inclined to find another Sunbeam like the one we had and restore it. He just looked down at me over his reading glasses, in a way only he could, and simply said with a half-smile, in his clear trademark baritone, “Are you crazy?”

Ron Johnson is a freelance writer who resides in Pinehurst. He is a native of New Orleans and can be reached at ronjonson@ gmail.com.

By tom Bryant

“Fishing gives a man some time to think. It gives him some time to collect his thoughts and rearrange them kind of neat, in an orderly fashion.”

Robert Ruark, The Old Man and the Boy

Down at the Pond

Not all those who wander are lost

It had been one of those days when all the good intentions go astray. I had planned to do a bunch of yard work that had been delayed by one thing, then another, but I was diverted to the little Airstream when I started thinking about an upcoming trip to the beach. We weren’t going to take the travel trailer, but I wanted to get it in shape to travel when we got home. After the winter, the small unit needed some real TLC. But just as I got the hose ready to mix soap to wash her with, Linda came to the arbor door with my phone.

“Hey, Hon, your phone has been ringing off the hook, if it had a hook.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. Call ’em back. This is their third try.” “OK. OK.”

I put the hose down and checked the number. Not recognizing it, I thought it was probably somebody wanting to sell me something.

“Cooter!” It was Bubba. “Where ya been? Why don’t you keep your phone with you?” He had bestowed the nickname Cooter on me when we first started hanging together, and it stuck.

“So I don’t have to talk to reprobates like you.”

Bubba and I go way back, having been hunting and fishing partners for years.

“I thought you were in Costa Rica fishing.”

“I was, but I caught some kind of bug and had to come home so the docs could fix it. The reason I’m calling, if you’ve got the time, I want you to ride up and check out the old store for me.”

Bubba had bought an ancient country store from a mutual friend, but it didn’t work out and now was closed. A farmhouse came with the deal and had been a fixture in the area for years.

“While you’re there, you can do some fishing in the pond behind the house. And if you catch a mess, bring ’em on over here and we’ll fry ’em up.”

“Bubba, I got tons to do around here and we’re getting ready to go to the beach. But I’ll try to get up there Wednesday. Your fishing idea sounds good.”

“Great, I owe you big time. Oh, by the way, I ran into Billy Flowers the other day and he was remembering when you guys started the newspaper. You remember him?”

“Nope, I sure don’t.”

“Never mind, we’ll talk about it when you get here.”

Wednesday came pretty fast, and I was on the road up to Bubba’s venerable old store early. I wanted to give the day enough time to catch some fish. It was a happy trip seeing a lot of things that I remembered from days past, and before I knew it, I pulled into the overgrown parking lot of the store, parked and walked around.

It was a depressing kind of stroll. The wraparound porch had random holes in the floor where animals had found places to live. An old rocker, with the rockers missing, was situated close to the side door, and a board was missing high up on the wall. Peering through the front window, I could see

where the rest of the rockers were stored. The ancient potbelly stove still perched royally in the center of the back part of the building. Considering everything, the timeworn structure had held up well, but it was disheartening to see the old place closed and in disrepair.

As I drove the dirt road back to Slim’s home, which was about a quarter-mile from the store, I noticed the new houses across the main road on what had been Johnson’s cattle farm. The farmstead had been developed into 5- and 10-acre minifarms, yet another move toward paving every spare acre available in the move toward progress.

The house was in good shape but on the decline. Slim’s nephew, Leroy, had lived there after he inherited it and the store from Slim. Bubba bought the whole kit and kaboodle when Leroy couldn’t make it work.

What Bubba had in mind, I had no idea. But it required an impromptu visit to check things out.

About a hundred yards behind the house, the farm pond sat silent and lonely. Grass had grown high, and alders were beginning to encroach on the banks. I had brought just a few pieces of fishing gear, not planning on a heavy day of fishing, and gingerly walked to the water, watching for snakes along the way.

I baited with a couple of juicy worms I had acquired from our local fishing tackle shop the day before, then kicked back in the old folding chair I take everywhere and cast out about 40 yards.

I thought back to my conversation with Bubba, again thinking about what he had in mind for the store and house. And who was that guy he met who asked about the newspaper we started so many years ago?

Cumulus clouds began to stack up on the tree line on the far side of the pond, and I could hear the distant rumble of thunder. Gonna rain later, I thought.

I watched the red and white bobber I had on the line and remembered the days when fishing, pond fishing that is, was so simple. A cane pole, some fishing line, a hook and float and a few worms or crickets, and you were ready.

Several purple martins began diving about the pond catching bugs, and a pair of buzzards lazily circled and went on south away from the area hoping to chomp on some roadkill, I reckoned.

I reeled in to check my bait, and sure enough, something had stripped the hook. I added more bait and cast out to the same spot.

I wondered again, who was that guy bringing up the longago past of the newspaper and remembering those days?

It all began at a cocktail and social club party at the country club. Three of us were standing around talking, naturally close to the bar. We were discussing the latest local news shortfall of our monopoly daily newspaper.

Included in the discussion were my good friend and lawyer, John; another good friend, Jim, the special features editor at the

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Durham Morning Herald; and me, the ad director at our local daily newspaper, the paper we felt had lost its direction.

The daily had new leadership in the publisher’s role, and right off the bat things began to change, and we didn’t think for the better. So out of our impromptu conversation at that party came the idea of our own local weekly newspaper and the four advertising tabloid papers designed for outlet shoppers that came along later.

The Outlet Outlook was based in three states: North Carolina, South Carolina and Tennessee. Later, an art and features magazine was created, along with almost 20 years of hard work for yours truly. What a ride! Sometimes almost broke, wondering how I was going to make payroll, and then sometimes flush with a good cash flow, almost more money than Davy Crockett. Ups and downs, highs and lows. Those random thoughts of history long gone flowed through my mind and, like an early morning mist, were gone.

Coming out of a doze, I watched a red-tailed hawk wheel over the pond and then head south toward the nearby river. I caught a bunch of bream, several small bass that I released, and two huge catfish. I field-cleaned the bream and catfish at the side of the lake, washed them in the cool clear water and put them in the cooler I had iced before leaving home.

It took no time to load up the little Cruiser. I was in a hurry. I wanted to get to Bubba’s, give him my report, and find out what was on his mind about the old store, house and pond.

Bubba never ceases to amaze me. Wonder what that rascal is up to? I thought as I took one more look at the old store, eased out in the traffic and headed toward his house. PS

Tom Bryant, a Southern Pines resident, is a lifelong outdoorsman and PineStraw’s Sporting Life columnist.

Minutes from the Traffic Circle

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Thirty Something

Standing the test of time

By lee PaCe

In the decade that Bob McCann has been the owner of Forest Creek Golf Club, he’s developed a deep respect for the position the club’s South Course holds in the minds and hearts of its members.

“There is something about the South Course that is so special,” McCann says. “People get romantic about it. They like the North Course. But they really love the South Course.”

Both courses are the work of noted golf architect Tom Fazio, the South opening in 1996 and the North following in 2005 as the lynchpins of a club and residential community just northeast of the village of Pinehurst. Terry Brown, the original developer, hired Fazio to design both courses and gambled that one man could create two vastly different experiences on the same piece of property.

“I can certainly argue that we created two contrasting styles at the same address — as much as if we’d done one course and someone else had done the other,” Fazio says. “The South Course has an Augusta look and feel with gently flowing lines, wintertime overseeding and big, white-splashed bunkers. The North favors a

course like Pine Valley with lots of sand, irregular boundaries and native grasses popping through wide expanses.”

The South was named one of the top three Best New Residential Courses of 1996 by Golf Digest. Mike Keiser, the developer of golf destinations such as Bandon Dunes in Oregon and Cabot Links in Nova Scotia, ranks Forest Creek as No. 5 in a personal list of the best private clubs in the United States with two or more courses, following Winged Foot, Baltusrol, Olympia Fields and Monterey Peninsula.

“I am such a fan of Forest Creek,” Keiser says. “Both courses are so well done. They were built as golf first, clubhouse and residential second. That shows you where the focus was, and it’s certainly worked out. They have two wonderful courses. Tom Fazio is brilliant. He made them look so different, and that’s hard to do.”

Now 30 years into its existence, the South Course is closed and is getting a major overhaul, and will reopen in October. Green complexes and bunkers are being rebuilt to modern maintenance and playability standards. The irrigation system will be brand new. Select trees are being culled to help with sunlight and air flow, particularly around the greens. And the original bent grass greens are being replaced with hybrid Bermuda.

Aging Gracefully Starts Here

For years, Forest Creek prided itself on having Bermuda greens on the North and bent on the South, with one of the two courses being in perfect condition at any given point in the year — the Bermuda surfaces on the North being healthy during the dog days of August, and the bent of the South playing firm and quick during the height of the spring and fall Sandhills golf seasons. But the summer heat extremes as the 21st century evolved made that too challenging on the South Course.

“We studied the green complexes very closely for many years,” McCann says. “We knew that with changes in climate, we had to go with Bermuda on the South. But there are no architectural changes. Some bunkers will be a little smaller and a little easier to get in and out of for our older members. But the original design has stood the test of time. I love that about what Tom created 30 years ago.”

In a perfect what-goes-around-comesaround moment, the same man who spent a year in Pinehurst in 1995 and into 1996 directing the construction of the course is now Fazio’s construction representative on the restoration job. It was Ron Smith’s first golf course building job in the mid-1990s when he worked for Central Florida Turf, the contractor on the first course at Forest Creek. He’s built golf courses all over the world in the three decades since and in 2016 went to work for Fazio Design.

“The pressure here now is this course has got to be better,” Smith says. “That sets a pretty high standard to begin with. The great thing is, I know the history at Forest Creek. It’s exciting to be back here again. We’ll get this golf course back to the standards we set 30 years ago.”

Smith grew up in Ohio, and his father was in the coal mining industry. He learned to use a bulldozer at age 12 and started playing golf at 20. When the coal business went bust across the Rust Belt in the early 1990s, Smith pivoted to building golf courses.

“Forest Creek was the first job I had as a project manager,” he says. “It just happened to be a Tom Fazio golf course. I was

a nervous wreck the first time I met him. But he was a great guy and so talented. We’ve done a lot of work together over many years.”

Fazio was working in Pinehurst at the same time building Pinehurst No. 8, and neither Brown at Forest Creek nor Pinehurst owner Bob Dedman Sr. had a problem with Fazio designing two courses just 2 miles apart as the crow flies. Forest Creek would be a private club within a residential community and No. 8 was a resort course — ergo two separate marketing pools. Blake Bickford was Fazio’s associate designer on both jobs in the mid-1990s and is again involved in the Forest Creek restoration.

“This site is tremendous, and it’s always been one my favorites,” Smith says. “It’s got the lakes, the sand, the big pines. It’s pretty easy to build a great golf course on that piece of land, particularly when you’ve got someone like Tom directing you. People always ask me, ‘What’s your favorite course you’ve built?’ I always put Forest Creek in my top three. When this job is done and it reopens, it will definitely still be there.”

The South Course overhaul will be the crowning achievement for McCann, the Pittsburgh native and retired Wall Street executive who has had an ownership interest in Forest Creek dating to 2011, when the members bought the club from the original developers. McCann was the majority owner of a group that bought the club in late 2017 and since has become the sole owner.

“When the South Course reopens in October, it will be quite a milestone for Forest Creek,” McCann says. “We’ve been working toward this point for eight years. There was a time 10 years ago when the members were scared we were going to go under. We’ve had a solid business plan and a lot of great people working together to get Forest Creek back on firm footing.”

Lee Pace has written about golf in the Sandhills for more than three decades from his home in Chapel Hill. Write him at leepace7@gmail.com and follow him @LeePaceTweet.

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July 2026

Fourth of July Night

The little boat at anchor in black water sat murmuring to the tall black sky.

A white sky bomb fizzed on a black line.

A rocket hissed it’s red signature into the west.

Now a shower of Chinese fire alphabets,

A cry of flower pots broken in flames,

A long curve to a purple spray, three violet balloons —

Drips of seaweed tangled in gold, shimmering symbols of mixed numbers,

Tremulous arrangements of cream gold folds of a bride’s wedding gown —

A few sky bombs spoke their pieces, then velvet dark.

The little boat at anchor in black water sat murmuring to the tall black sky.

— Carl Sandburg

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) was a poet, biographer, journalist and editor. He was awarded three Pulitzer Prizes, two for poetry and one for a biography of Abraham Lincoln.

When the Coastal Plain meets the Piedmont

By Warren LeW is • P hotogra Phs By John gessner

was in trouble. Marianne, my better two-thirds, had invited friends over for a barbecue. Sounds easy enough — but the couples are from opposite sides of the state: vinegar-based barbecue vs. tomato-based barbecue. I’d rather discuss religion and politics. What’s a chef to do?

How about I begin at the beginning? Let’s talk location, culture and soil.

The Sandhills of North Carolina occupy a band of ancient coastal sediment running through Moore, Richmond, Hoke and Scotland counties — about from Southern Pines and Carthage west toward Laurinburg and Rockingham. The soil is sandy and quick-draining, good for longleaf pine, wire grass and peaches. The heat and sun can be relentless.

Barbecue in the Sandhills sits in geographic and cultural tension. The Eastern North Carolina tradition — vinegar-only, whole hog, hardwood coals — comes from the Coastal Plain counties to the east. The Lexington tradition — tomatotouched dip, pork shoulder, hickory smoke — comes from the Piedmont to the north and west. Aah! The tension of being the middle child. (Did I mention that I’m in the middle of two sisters?)

So here’s my compromise: a local pork shoulder cooked over hickory or oak, pulled and chopped, finished with a sauce that is predominantly vinegar but carries just enough of the Sandhills character — a touch of sweetness and depth. It’s a pretty solid compromise.

Note: With all recipes, read ’em through thoroughly, paying attention to rest periods and timing.

Buy a bone-in pork butt, 8 - 10 pounds. This is the upper shoulder — well-marbled and deliciously fatty. It is the right cut for a long, slow cook. Just the right size for a dozen folks or so. Source locally, as Moore County has a fair number of working farms. A pork butt from a hog raised in the Sandhills’ sandy soil pastures will have a cleaner, slightly sweeter flavor than a commodity shoulder. It is worth the effort to seek one out. Plus, it seems like the right thing to do.

The Sandhills rub is slightly more seasoned than the nearnaked salt-and-pepper of the pure Eastern N.C. tradition, but it does not reach for the spice-cabinet ambition of Western barbecue. The goal is to season the exterior, build a modest bark, and stay out of the way of the smoke and the sauce.

Ingredients

4 tablespoons kosher salt

2 tablespoons coarsely ground black pepper

2 tablespoons brown sugar

2 teaspoons paprika

2 teaspoons garlic powder

1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon dry mustard

Mix all ingredients thoroughly. Apply generously to all surfaces — fat cap, meat side, bone side, all the sides. Pat it in. Do not rub hard; you want it to sit on the surface, not be worked into the meat.

Wrap loosely and refrigerate overnight. Pull the shoulder from the refrigerator 2 hours before it goes on the smoker.

This is where the Sandhills parts ways with the strict Eastern tradition. The sauce begins with vinegar — cider vinegar as the primary acid, white vinegar for sharpness — but it carries a small amount of ketchup for body and color, a touch of brown sugar for the faint sweetness the region’s palate expects, and a measured hand with the pepper.

Ingredients

3 cups apple cider vinegar

1 cup white distilled vinegar

¼ cup ketchup

¼ cup local honey

2 tablespoons brown sugar

2 teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes

3 teaspoons coarsely ground black pepper

1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1. Combine all ingredients in a jar or bottle with a tight lid.

2. Double check that the lid is tight. (No, I don’t want to discuss it.) Shake it like a Polaroid ’til it’s all mixed nice.

3. Let the sauce rest at room temperature for at least 24 hours before using. The pepper blooms in the acid and the flavors knit together. Three days of rest is better. Maybe make a double batch.

4. Taste before using. The sauce should lead with vinegar sharp-

ness, finish with gentle heat, and carry a faint background sweetness that does not announce itself. Adjust cayenne for heat, brown sugar for sweetness, or add a splash of cider vinegar if it needs more edge.

Cook this pork shoulder on an offset smoker, a kettle or any setup that allows you to maintain indirect heat and introduce real wood smoke. Use hickory — it is the wood of this region and this style. Oak is acceptable. No fruitwood. No mesquite. No Duraflame logs. (David, I’m talking to you.) Grab a book and settle into your favorite chair. This is gonna take a while. I like to do a barbecue when there is no moon, so I can stare at the stars all night. Barbecue is a real commitment.

Target temperature: 225 to 250 degrees Fahrenheit at the grate. Expected cook time for an 8 - 10 pound bone-in butt: 10 to 14 hours. Plan for the 14 hours.

1. Bring the smoker to a stable 225 to 250 degrees before the pork goes on, fat cap up. Place the shoulder with the thicker end toward the heat source if using an offset.

2. Manage the fire for clean, thin smoke. Hickory is an assertive wood — use it with a measured hand. Two or three fist-sized splits or large chunks at a time, added as needed to hold temperature. You want smoke, not a smudge.

3. At three hours, check the fire and note the color developing on the exterior. You can peek, but not too long as you’ll lose temperature. Take pictures. Let the bark form undisturbed.

4. At around 160 - 165 degrees internal temperature, the stall will set in. The temperature will plateau and hold — sometimes for two hours, occasionally longer in humid Sandhills summer heat. Hold your position. The collagen is converting to gelatin, and the exterior is doing important work. Take more pictures.

5. At the stall, wrap the shoulder in two layers of heavy-duty foil. Return it to the smoker and continue cooking at the same temperature. The foil pushes through the stall by trapping moisture — nothing worse than dry barbecue — while the interior completes its breakdown.

6. Continue cooking until the internal temperature reaches 200 - 205 degrees and the bone wiggles freely. The probe should slide into the thickest part of the flat with no resistance — easy, clean, like butter that has been sitting in a warm kitchen. Use the “bone test.” It’s more accurate than a thermometer.

7. Remove from the smoker. Keep in the foil. Wrap in a towel (Not a bath towel. Again, I don’t want to discuss it.) and rest in a dry cooler for a minimum of 1 hour. Two hours is better.

torn, with some variation in texture. The bark pieces, the fatty point of the shoulder, and the leaner flat should all be present in the finished pile.

1. Remove the bone. If cooked properly, the bone will have no meat on it. Pull the shoulder apart into large sections with two forks or your hands. Yes, it burns a little. Michelangelo didn’t complain while he spent four years on his back with his arms up painting.

2. Roughly chop the pulled pieces on a large cutting board — 8 - 10 passes with a heavy knife, turning the pile as you go. You want irregular chunks, not a fine mince.

3. While the meat is still hot, add the Sandhills sauce generously — start with a big splash — and toss to coat.

4. Taste. Add more sauce. The pork should be glossy, moist, and tangy with the faint sweetness of the sauce behind the vinegar. Let it rest in the pan for 5 minutes, then taste again. The meat will absorb a surprising amount of sauce while hot.

Serve on white bread or plain buns — the bread is not a vehicle, it is a participant. It absorbs the sauce that runs off the pork and becomes something you eat deliberately, not a wrapper you discard. A plain white hamburger bun is correct. A brioche bun is not.

Sandhills pulled pork is pulled first, then chopped — somewhere between the long-strand pulled pork of Memphis and the fine chop of the Eastern N.C. tradition. You want medium pieces, roughly

White bread or plain hamburger buns

Vinegar-dressed coleslaw — cabbage, cider vinegar, a little sugar, celery seed, no mayonnaise

Baked beans — cooked low and slow with a piece of the pork if you have it

Hush puppies or cornbread

Sliced peaches in season — a Sandhills addition that needs no explanation. Maybe pop them on the grill for a moment.

Extra Sandhills sauce on the side

Sweet tea, cold and very sweet

Ice cream

Cook it for a Saturday. Start it Friday night. Let the neighbors smell it in the morning. Invite them over. Serve it at noon on paper plates under the pines with sweet tea and peaches and people who are not in any hurry to be anywhere else. PS

Of moths and men and tobacco

story and PhotograPhs By todd Pusser

“Iremember my grandfather pretending to bite their heads off,” recounts lifelong Eagle Springs resident Tim Martin with a laugh. “In all actuality, he was just pinching their heads with his fingers. But he sure made it look realistic, especially when that green goo poured out.” Martin is 65 years old and speaks with a soft, earnest drawl, as he reminisces with fond nostalgia and a strong sense of pride about his childhood working his grandfather’s 100-acre tobacco farm. Pulling hornworms off the broad-veined leaves of tobacco plants, in dusty fields during the heat of summer, was once a rite of passage for kids like Martin. The finger-length, bright green caterpillars, with race car-white stripes on their sides, and tall protuberances that stick up from their hind ends (giving them their name), are notorious pests of tobacco. With voracious appetites that would make Eric Carle — author of The Very Hungry Caterpillar — proud, a handful of hornworm caterpillars could decimate the valuable leaves of a tobacco plant in short order.

For decades, North Carolina led the world in the production of tobacco, its signature crop. In its heyday, the state produced as much as a billion pounds of the leaf per year. Talk to any old-timer born and raised in the Sandhills and chances are good they worked the local tobacco fields as a kid, either on a family farm or one that met the tobacco quota set by the U.S. government. The quota system, established by federal law in 1938, strictly controlled the amount of tobacco grown in order to keep prices high for farmers. It was illegal to grow and sell more tobacco than the quota.

Farming tobacco was very much a community affair. “Neighbors helped neighbors,” says Martin. Planting, pruning, priming, pulling and drying tobacco leaves instilled a deep love for the land as well as a strong work ethic. That work was frequently grueling and often started well before the crack of dawn. “My brother Mike was the only one of us four siblings old enough to drive,” remembers Martin. “We would get up and leave Eagle Springs in the dark in his 1960 Dodge Coronet and drive 100 mph down Hoffman Road to reach my grandfather’s farm by sunrise.”

Martin chuckles. “My mother would have had a fit.”

Walking the long rows of tobacco, back and forth, over and over, under the intense summer sun, with hands covered in sticky sap from pulling sucker shoots off the tall green

stalks, was not for the faint of heart — nor was grappling with sausage-sized caterpillars. Throughout my childhood I heard stories about hornworms and tobacco from my father. He, too, had worked the local tobacco fields as a kid, as did my mom. So did their siblings. And their friends. It seemed everyone I knew of a certain age had worked in tobacco at some point in their youth, and all had a hornworm story. For a nature-obsessed kid, the thought of giant, squishy caterpillars devouring entire fields of tobacco sparked the imagination.

Hornworms are the caterpillars of sphinx moths, a family of mostly large moths that are well-known for rapidly flapping their wings back and forth while hovering in front of flowers. Approximately 1,400 species of sphinx moths are found across the globe, with 46 species having been recorded in North Carolina. Most species are nocturnal, but a few fly about during the day. Perhaps you’ve seen a hummingbird moth, hovering around a flower garden like its feathered namesake. Hummingbird moths are, in fact, a type of sphinx moth.

Catalpa worms, another type of sphinx moth caterpillar with a horn on its butt, feed on the wide green leaves of the catalpa tree. Native to the mountains of North Carolina, catalpa trees were planted throughout the Sandhills for the primary purpose of producing fish bait. My father swears that catalpa worms are the best bass bait around. Dad has

no clue how to navigate Google Maps, but he still remembers to this very day, with vivid clarity, the directions to every catalpa tree — at least the ones still standing-around southern Moore County that he visited with his father on weekend fishing excursions over 75 years ago.

Anyone who has tried their hand at growing sun-ripened tomatoes is well acquainted with hornworms. As it turns out, tomatoes are in the nightshade family Solanaceae, just like tobacco. The seemingly vastly different plants attract two of the most notorious sphinx moth caterpillars, the tomato hornworm and the tobacco hornworm. The bane of backyard gardeners everywhere, these two caterpillars are lookalikes. It takes a trained eye to distinguish between the two. Tomato hornworms have eight L-shaped white stripes on their sides. Their characteristic horn is colored black. Tobacco hornworms, on the other hand, possess seven straight white stripes on their sides, each edged in black. Their horns are bright red, like embers in a fire. Despite their large size, hornworms can be surprisingly difficult to see on their host plants. Their green and white coloration acts as perfect camouflage against would-be predators.

Recently, I challenged my 7-year-old daughter, Ella, to a contest of who could spot the most hornworms on a Datura growing in Grandma’s flower garden. Known by many common names, such as Angel’s trumpet or moon flower, Datura is another member of the nightshade family, and is a magnet for both tomato and tobacco hornworms. One reason kids were tasked with worming tobacco back in the day was that they were closer to the ground than adults. Logic dictated that they could see up under the tobacco leaves more easily, and hence, were better at locating those pesky hornworms. With my daughter standing by my side, I decided to put that theory to the test.

One hot June afternoon, we took up positions on either side of the Datura. On a count of three, we stared intently at the plant to see who could find the most hornworms. After a few minutes of closely examining the bright white flowers and light green foliage, I managed to find just three tobacco hornworms. Ella found 10.

That night, after Ella had fallen asleep, I ventured back out into the flower garden with an ultraviolet flashlight in hand.

Hornworms fluoresce brightly under ultraviolet light. Shining the flashlight onto the Datura, I counted nearly two dozen horn-

worms of various sizes, glowing like Christmas tree lights among the leaves — far more than Ella and I had observed earlier in the day. It was a testament to their superb camouflage. “For every bucket of hornworms pulled off tobacco there were probably five others still on the plants,” says Martin.

A 1964 groundbreaking study linking cigarette smoking to lung cancer and heart disease was the beginning of the end for many tobacco farmers across North Carolina. In the decades and lawsuits that followed, tobacco’s public image suffered. Then, in 2004, the government ended the tobacco quota system that had supported high tobacco prices, forcing many farmers to grow other crops or leave the industry altogether. Though North Carolina still leads the nation in tobacco production, it has now been surpassed on the global scale by China. Still, tobacco remains one of the state’s most important cash crops. Drive the backroads of the Sandhills this time of year and you will still see acres and acres of the broad-leaved plants standing tall in the sun.

A couple of years back, while driving to visit my family in Eagle Springs, I found a vast field of tobacco that had yet to be topped, not far from my childhood home. Hundreds of white blossoms, sitting high atop the green stalks, swayed gently in the summer breeze. Topping tobacco is an agricultural technique that removes the crown of flowers from the top of the stalk so that the plant redirects its nutrients into producing larger and thicker leaves, thereby increasing its value for the farmer. Like blood in the water for sharks, I figured that all the nectar-rich flowers would attract sphinx moths, and I decided to stand out in the field that evening to try my hand at photographing them.

Despite all its controversies and poor public image, tobacco is one beautiful plant, with its wide, floppy green leaves and crown of pink and white blossoms. There are roughly 70 species of wild tobacco in the genus Nicotiana found across the globe. The species that is grown commercially in North Carolina, commonly called brightleaf tobacco, is known as Nicotiana tobacum. Native to the Neotropics, it was traded throughout the Americas by indigenous peoples. When the first European Colonists settled

in Jamestown, they found the local Native American tribes cultivating and smoking the plant for medicinal and spiritual purposes. By the end of the 17th century, tobacco had become the economic staple of Virginia, making the region the wealthiest of the country’s original 13 Colonies at the time of the American Revolution.

Arriving to the field a half hour before the sunset, I was immediately greeted by the sight of several dozen sphinx moths hovering around the tobacco blossoms like nocturnal hummingbirds. The scent of sweet perfume hung heavy in the air. Unlike the bitter acrid smell of cigarette smoke, tobacco flowers produce a pleasing aroma reminiscent of jasmine and gardenia. Up and down, side to side, forward and backward, the moths zipped about, unfurling their long tongues and inserting them, with surgical precision, into the tubular flowers to sample the nectar reserves nestled deep within. Beating their wings at over 70 times per second, I could actually hear the moths as they hovered over nearby blossoms.

As the sun dipped out of sight on the far side of the field, on the other side, a full moon rose above the horizon. Under the silvery moonlight, the tobacco flowers practically glowed. It was a magical sight.

Reviewing the images on my camera’s LCD, I identified the moths as Carolina sphinx moths. With 4-inch wingspans and furry abdomens covered by six pairs of yellow-orange spots, Carolina sphinx moths seem more like small mammals than insects. On many of the photos, I could make out tiny granules of tobacco pollen stuck to their long tongues. Sphinx moths are important pollinators of plants, though they tend to be overlooked when compared with butterflies and bees. The next time you sip your morning brew be sure and thank sphinx moths. On tropical coffee plantations, sphinx moths supplement bee pollination of coffee flowers.

Another important tropical crop, the delicious papaya, is mainly pollinated by sphinx moths. Closer to home, many orchids, lilies, cacti, evening primroses, four o’clocks, petunias and morning glories are all pollinated by sphinx moths. The list goes on and on. As powerful flyers, sphinx moths disperse pollen over long distances, promoting plant outbreeding and genetic diversity. As I like to tell my daughter, they are the superheroes of the insect world.

After spending several hours among the flowering tobacco, I decided to call it a night. A quick scan of the field with my headlamp revealed numerous sphinx moths still frantically sipping nectar with their giant straw-like tongues, beneath the full moon.

I smiled at the wonders so close to home. PS

Naturalist and photojournalist Todd Pusser grew up in Eagle Springs. He works to document the extraordinary diversity of life both near and far. His images can be found at www.ToddPusser.com.

By Bill Case

When Lord Gen. Charles Cornwallis, commander of the British Army in the South, invaded North Carolina in September 1780, it marked the end of nearly 4½ years of relative peace in the state. Patriots (also referred to as “Whigs”), whose control had been mostly unchallenged since the early days of the war, suddenly faced potential loss of their lives, property, and their Whig-led state government. Triggered by the theft of a young woman’s bolt of brown cloth, the hostilities would also come to the Sandhills,

culminating in a series of attacks and counterattacks marked by grisly and unspeakable cruelty.

Anguished Tarheel Patriots initially feared Cornwallis’ army was unstoppable. The British had subdued Patriot opposition in neighboring South Carolina with relative ease. Lord Henry Clinton, overall commander of the British forces in America, had occupied Charles Town (Charleston) in May 1780 following a seven-week siege of the city. Clinton’s hostile seizure resulted in the capture of 5,000 Patriot soldiers, including many North Carolinians. Three months later, Cornwallis scored a

major victory at the Battle of Camden (South Carolina), routing Continental troops mismanaged by Gen. Horatio Gates.

Flushed with confidence, Cornwallis thought it unlikely he would encounter significant Patriot resistance in North Carolina and, in fact, anticipated that thousands of Loyalists, mostly transplanted Scottish Highlanders, would be joining the British in the fight.

North Carolina’s Loyalists (also called Tories) had been laying low since February 1776. That was when a newly formed regiment of kilted Highlanders were crushed in a deadly encounter with

Patriot militia at Moore’s Creek Bridge near Wilmington. In their ill-fated charge across the bridge, the Highlanders were greeted with devastating gunfire that nearly obliterated their regiment.

As a result, the Patriots ruled supreme in North Carolina for the ensuing 4½ years. British Royal Gov. Josiah Martin was forced to flee to a Royal Navy ship off the coast. The state’s chastened Loyalists were subjected to a plethora of reprisals: burning of homes, confiscation of property and imprisonment.

Traditionally, the Highlanders had been blood enemies of the Crown, particularly after their clans were annihilated by the

Lord Gen. Charles Cornwallis

English in the 1746 Battle of Culloden in Scotland. The aftermath of that debacle led to the Clearances, in which Highlander clans were unceremoniously uprooted from their ancestral homes.

Several factors were involved in the Highlanders about-face. Most had taken oaths of allegiance to the king as a condition of his permitting their emigration to America, and many of the transplants had received generous land grants in return. Remembering their devastating defeat at Culloden, the Highlanders were understandably reluctant to undertake a second, likely doomed, rebellion against what they perceived was the invincible British Army.

Financial considerations also played a role. The majority of Highlanders were entrepreneurs — farmers, millers, timber and turpentine harvesters, merchants — and loathe to disrupt the marketing of their products to England.

The British invasion got off to a promising start. Cornwallis’ advance guard stormed into Charlotte. After a skirmish, his troops drove the defending Patriot militia toward Salisbury. The Crown scored another major victory in early 1781 when British Maj. James Craig occupied Wilmington. Seizure of the seaport secured for the Redcoats a vital supply depot as well as control of the entrance to the Cape Fear River.

Emboldened by the presence of British troops, North Carolina’s Loyalists re-emerged as a fighting force. British Maj. Patrick Ferguson recruited over 1,000 of them. They joined a militia that protected Cornwallis’ left flank. Ferguson warned settlers west of the Blue Ridge not to resist his troops or else he would “march his army over the mountains, hang their leaders, and lay their country to waste with fire and sword.”

The triumphant victory Cornwallis envisioned would stall due to unexpected setbacks elsewhere. Mountain frontiersmen (tagged the “Overmountain Men”), infuriated by Maj. Ferguson’s threats, teamed up with Patriot militia to rout Ferguson’s Loyalists in the Battle of Kings Mountain on Oct. 7, 1780. The major was killed in the clash.

Another blow to Cornwallis’ southern strategy occurred in December 1780, when George Washington appointed Gen. Nathanael Greene to replace Gates as southern commander of the Continental Army. Greene brought to the post new energy, resilience and resourcefulness, notably absent under Gates’ leadership. He adopted a strategy of frustrating the enemy, wearing it down by attrition, rather than risking all in a decisive battle. “We fight, get beat, rise, and fight again,” he wrote Washington.

As Cornwallis had predicted, violent Loyalist uprisings started springing up in the state. A notable example occurred in Anson County, near present day Wadesboro, where the commandant of the Anson County Regiment, Col. Thomas Wade, and his brother-in-law Patrick Boggan were victimized by Tory retribution. Wade’s house was burned; the Tories confiscated his crops and personal property.

Fearful for their lives, Wade, Boggan and other members of the Anson County Regiment packed their wagons and fled with their families to the Neuse River, near the Pamlico Sound, an area relatively free of Tories.

Then on Jan. 17, 1781, a wing of Greene’s Continental Army, led by Brig. Gen. Daniel Morgan, and accompanied by Patriot militia, defeated British and Loyalist troops at the Battle of Cowpens in South Carolina. Morgan’s triumph resulted in the capture of over 500 enemy combatants. With prisoners in tow, Morgan headed north toward Salisbury, to link up with Greene.

Given the unforeseen depletion of his army, Cornwallis deemed it critical to free Morgan’s prisoners and restore them to his own ranks. The general gave chase, hoping to destroy Morgan’s force before it could join Greene. To expedite his pursuit, he ordered the jettisoning of his army’s excess supplies, including, to the soldiers’ dismay, their rations of brandy. But the elusive Morgan escaped Redcoat clutches, successfully linking up with Greene in Salisbury.

Undaunted, Cornwallis continued to stalk Greene’s reunited army, looking to force a battle before it crossed the Dan River into Virginia. Again, Cornwallis came up short. Greene successfully eluded the British, winning the so-called “Race to the Dan.” When he crossed the river into Virginia, 600 Commonwealth militiamen joined his ranks.

Thus reinforced, Greene crossed back over the Dan into North Carolina. His combined forces now outnumbered those of Cornwallis 2-to-1. The savvy Greene was at last ready to meet the British in a pitched battle.

Cornwallis met Greene head-on. The Battle of Guilford Court House near Greensboro on March 15, 1781 was described by

Gen. Nathanael Greene

MARCH TO YORKTOWN

GUILFORD COURTHOUSE

SALISBURY

HILLSBOROUGH

NEUSE RIVER

ALSTON HOUSE (HOUSE IN THE HORSESHOE)

SOUTHERN PINES CHARLOTTE

Cornwallis march to Yorktown.

EDENTON ALBEMARLE SOUND

ROANOKERIVER

LONGSTREET CHURCH

AVERASBORO

CROSS CREEK (FAYETTEVILLE)

PINEY BOTTOM CREEK MOORES CREEK BRIDGE

Cornwallis pursuit of Greene, leading to the engagement at Guilford courthouse, January ‒March 1781, and Cornwallis retreat to Wilmington. Major Battles

Greene’s Patriot army returns to South Carolina. Forts

author Phillips Russell as the “grimmest ever fought on North Carolina soil.” In his book North Carolina in the Revolutionary War, Russell suggests that the Ides of March confrontation became “a determining factor in the outcome of the American war for independence. . . . It was critical in every aspect.”

While Greene’s soldiers were ultimately driven from the field, Guilford Court House was, at best, a Pyrrhic victory for Cornwallis. His men suffered heavy casualties: 500 killed and wounded — almost a quarter of his remaining army. Many of the general’s best officers were lost, and he himself was wounded. Furthermore, the remaining Redcoats were exhausted and famished, due in part to their commander’s questionable decision to ditch supplies.

To replenish his men, Cornwallis marched them toward Cross Creek (present day Fayetteville), a Loyalist stronghold that supposedly housed a storage facility laden with British supplies. En route the army trekked through Pittsboro and across the Little River. Cornwallis spent one night at a home located at what later became Fort Bragg. When he arrived at Cross Creek, the general found that Patriot supporters had emptied the warehouse. To feed his increasingly desperate soldiers, Cornwallis had no choice but to lead them on to Wilmington, still controlled by the Crown. The bedraggled Redcoats finally arrived at the port on April 7, 1781.

TOWN

FEAR

Cornwallis had had enough of the Carolinas. In a communication with Clinton, the general recommended the war be fought elsewhere. “Until Virgina is in a manner subdued,” he claimed, “our hold of the Carolinas must be difficult if not precarious. The rivers in Virginia are advantageous to an invading army. But North Carolina is, of all provinces in America, the most difficult to attack . .

After a two-week rest, Cornwallis marched his reinforced army north to Virginia. When he exited North Carolina, the British no longer posed a significant threat to Whigs in the state’s interior, though a residual force led by Maj. Craig still controlled Wilmington and the surrounding coastal areas.

Cornwallis’ departure was demoralizing to North Carolina Loyalists. They generally viewed his campaign in the state as a failure that had reinvigorated the Patriots’ quest for independence.

But one vengeful Tory leader was undeterred. During the summer of 1781, wily David Fanning led several spectacular raids. His militia captured 53 prisoners at the Chatham County Courthouse in Pittsboro and forced the surrender of Philip Alston’s Whig militia at the House in the Horseshoe in Moore County. He even kidnapped Whig Gov. Thomas Burke in Hillsborough.

With the British Army gone and Loyalist fervor somewhat cowed, Thomas Wade and Patrick Boggan figured it would be relatively safe for their families and militiamen to pack up their

wagons and head home to Anson County, 150 miles from their Neuse River hideout. Yes, they would be passing through Torydominated areas, but with Cornwallis gone, weren’t Loyalists going to retreat into the shadows again? If Fanning’s militia remained a threat, the seemingly omnipresent Tory couldn’t be everywhere at once, could he?

As a precaution, Wade sent the women and children off first with just a couple of his militiamen to guard them, figuring the innocents wouldn’t be harmed by Loyalists. In addition, the Anson County men, along with Capt. Culp from South

Carolina, started their own journey home, crossing the Cape Fear River at present day Averasboro (Hartnett County), where they camped. That night, a few of Wade’s men, off on a personal frolic, raided the home of John McDaniel, a Loyalist who employed a young orphan girl, Marren McDaniel, as a servant. Marren had spun enough rough brown cloth to make a dress, but Wade’s men pilfered the coarse cloth from the loom while the shocked girl stood by. When McDaniel’s Highlander neighbors heard what had happened, their reaction was outrage. They deemed the militiaman’s callous treatment of the defenseless girl

General Nathanael led battles in the southern Colonies, North and South Carolina and Georgia.

However, John’s allegiance to the Tories was no ruse. After the raid of McDaniel’s home, he urged his neighbors to gather at midnight the following day at the Longstreet Church, a log cabin structure in Argyll — a small community of Scottish-born settlers that would ultimately vanish after being incorporated into Fort Bragg, 137 years later.

On the morning of the meeting, Cunning John rode his horse 25 miles to the eastern side of Fayetteville, where he visited Ebenezer Fulsome, a patriotic Whig. Fulsome would later confirm McNeill did not commence his ride back home until around sundown. Cunning John had established a plausible alibi (which later proved useful) regarding his whereabouts during the night.

According to Malcolm Fowler’s book, Valley of the Scots, McNeill, presumably galloping his mount to near exhaustion, did make it from Fayetteville to the meeting at Longstreet Church around 1 a.m. Those he had summoned, bearing Scottish surnames like McDougald, McKay, McLeod, Blue, Black, Monroe, Ferguson and Patterson, had waited anxiously to hear what McNeill had in mind.

The plan was simple: attack Colonel Wade’s sleeping camp an hour before daylight and kill as many members of his militia as possible. Cunning John knew where the Anson County men were likely to be bivouacked — the old campground at Piney Bottom Creek (located within Fort Bragg, 7 miles east of today’s Southern Pines).

Local historian and 20-year U.S. Army veteran Matt Mutarelli has diligently studied the events that unfolded at Piney Bottom and makes presentations locally regarding them. His military service includes a lengthy stint in Special Operations, and he speaks with authority when he commends Cunning John’s foresight in figuring out where Wade would be setting up camp.

“From a military perspective,” says Mutarelli, “McNeill executed a superb job of predictive and terrain analyses. He took into account Wade’s likely path home, his rate of travel, prevailing weather and available resources.” McNeill also proved himself an excellent networker. In the course of a single day, Cunning John assembled 200 to 300 Tories, many of them hailing from far corners of Moore County.

When the conclave at Longstreet Church was over, the assembled Highlanders faced a 10-mile nighttime ride through the woods to Piney Bottom. As they mounted their horses at the church, their scheduled attack was a mere five hours away.

as a crime almost worse than house burning. Revenge was suddenly in the air. Wade’s militia would have to pay!

“Cunning John” McNeill stepped forward to play a key role in the Highlander’s response to the pillaging of the poor girl’s cloth. He was one of six sons of Jennie Bahn McNeill, a crafty businesswoman active in selling cattle. When Jennie saw the Revolution brewing, she hedged her bets, insisting that three of her sons (including John) support the Tories while her remaining sons aligned with the Patriots. The gambit enabled Jennie to market cattle to both camps.

Just before daybreak, the Highlanders came within earshot of Wade’s camp at Piney Bottom. A sentry hailed them, but the attackers remained silent. The lack of response prompted Wade’s sentry to fire. One of the Highlanders, Duncan McCallum, shot back. The attack was on.

There are varying accounts of what followed; the one closest in time to the incident was authored by Rev. E. W. Caruthers in 1854. In his book Revolutionary Incidents and Sketches of Character, he writes, “Then (the Highlanders) rushed upon the sleeping company just as they were roused by the fire of the sentinel’s gun, and shot down five or six of them but the rest (save one) escaped leaving everything behind them.”

Unfortunately, a young boy accompanying Wade’s militia

was slow to awaken and was trapped inside his wagon as the Highlanders approached. The youngster’s name is unknown, nor is it reported how he happened to be accompanying the Anson County militia. Caruthers describes the boy as “motherless” and a “protege” of Col. Wade, who had grown fond of him. The author describes what happened next in gruesome detail.

The lad, “before he was fully awake, cried out, ‘Parole me! Parole me!’ Duncan Ferguson, a renegade deserter from the American Army, told him to come out and he would parole him. He came out and dropped to his knees, begging for his life, but seeing Ferguson approaching him in a threatening manner, he jumped up and ran. Ferguson took after him and Col. McDougal after Ferguson, threatening him that if he touched the boy he would cut him down. Ferguson still ran on, however, until he overtook the boy, and then with his broadsword split his head wide open so that half of it fell on one shoulder and the other half on the other shoulder.”

Following the grisly murder, the assailants plundered the wagons, then proceeded to burn them. Had the Highlanders retained the wagons, there was a possibility observant Patriots would later recognize them as Wade’s, and thus link those who possessed them to the “Massacre at Piney Bottom.” The raiders did carry off the charred iron traces of the wagons, a fact one Sandhills man would come to regret.

Their first destination was the home of Daniel Patterson, an elderly gent known as “the Piper.” He resided adjacent to Drowning Creek near its west bank (thus in Richmond County — the creek would eventually serve as Richmond County’s border with Moore County). It is doubtful Patterson was at Piney Bottom, but Wade believed he would know who was. According to Caruthers, Wade’s militiamen “caught the old man and whipped him until he gave up the names of all who were at Piney Bottom.”

The Patriots crossed over Drowning Creek to the Moore County side, where they paid a visit to the home of Kenneth Clarke. There they found Alexander McLeod, whom they tied up, pinioning his arms behind his back. Alexander’s 11-year-old brother John was placed under guard.

The militiamen then came upon a small field where five men were making “potato hills.” According to Caruthers, two of them, Daniel McMillan and Duncan Currie, were known “accomplices in the massacre.” But the other three, John Clark, Allen McSweene and “an Irishman who was a British deserter and wore a red coat,” apparently had no involvement aside from knowing McMillan and Currie.

The Patriots crossed over

Drowning Creek to the Moore County side, where they paid a visit to the home of Kenneth Clarke.

On his way home, McNeill visited his friend, the aforementioned Loyalist John McDaniel, and bragged about what had occurred at Piney Bottom. In the course of regaling McDaniel, Cunning John brandished a trophy — the notorious piece of brown woven cloth. When Marren McDaniel, standing nearby, saw her cloth, she immediately claimed it. As Caruthers noted, “This was perhaps the only good which resulted from that tragical affair.”

It appears most of Wade’s militiamen were able to fetch their horses to assist their narrow escape. The following morning, Capt. Culp, riding his horse bareback, appeared at the home of an aged Tory named McLean, who lent the captain a saddle. Wade, Boggan, Culp and the remaining regiment members eventually made it back to Anson County, about 55 miles from Piney Bottom.

If McNeill and his band assumed Col. Wade would not retaliate, they were wrong. Caruthers writes, “As soon as Wade and Culp reached home, they collected about one hundred dragoons, or mounted men, under Captain Bogan, and they all came down swearing never to return until they had avenged the death of that murdered boy, who seems to have been a favorite of Wade and, in fact, all that knew him.” The revenge-minded Anson County Patriots then headed to the Sandhills.

But by this time, Wade’s men were past the point of caring whether their captives had participated in the massacre personally or not. All five men were gathered up and taken to Kenneth Clarke’s home, where they were kept under guard.

Since they had not been immediately put to death, the Highlander captives had hopes of surviving their awful plight. Just before sunset, their chances took a turn for the worse when Capt. Patrick Boggan and his Light Horse Company appeared on the scene. They were all enraged, partly due, says Caruthers, to intoxication. Boggan had the prisoners removed from the house, then ordered they be put to death by sword in the same manner as Wade’s young protege at Piney Bottom.

The initial object of Boggan’s wrath was Alexander McLeod. Several of the militiamen, while on horseback, beat McLeod over the head with their swords. With his raised arms absorbing most of the blows, Alexander temporarily avoided fatal injury. When the other terrified prisoners observed Alexander’s plight, they ran. With his captors momentarily distracted, Alexander also tried to escape, only to be shot dead. John Clarke, Currie and McMillan were likewise mowed down by gunfire.

Despite having both hands tied behind him, McSweene sought to make a getaway. “With a last, desperate, almost preternatural effort to save his life,” writes Caruthers, “he leaped a pretty high staked and ridered fence which was round the house.” Though bullet-ridden, McSweene somehow continued running for another quarter-mile before he fell. His torment-

ers finished him off by splitting open his head. Youngster John McLeod and elderly Kenneth Clarke were spared, though Clarke was told to bury all his compatriots’ corpses by the next morning or he too would be killed.

The Anson County Patriots’ bloodlust was far from sated. On the Sabbath, they arrived at the farm of David Buchan, located where Pinehurst’s half-mile harness racing track is today. Fortunately for Buchan, he was not at home. When the militiamen found charred harness chains at the farm, they viewed it as clear proof they were from Wade’s burned wagons at Piney Bottom. Buchan’s home was set afire as retaliation.

Next, the avengers rode to the farm of another Loyalist, Kenneth Black. It was located where the Morganton Park South shopping area in Southern Pines is today. The Black family cemetery still exists on the property. When Kenneth and his son saw the incensed Patriots approach, they hid a distance from the farmhouse, but Capt. Culp caught sight of them and forced the two men into the house. Culp and several of his men rode their horses inside and herded the Black family into the fireplace.

Female relatives of Scottish heroine Flora McDonald arrived at the Blacks’ home while Culp and his men ransacked the place. A quarter-century before, Flora had gained fame by aiding Bonnie Prince Charlie’s escape from British capture after he led Scottish clansmen to their crushing defeat at Culloden. Ironically, Flora was now allied with the Loyalists, having married a British officer with whom she moved to America. She resided at a home 4 miles away provided by Kenneth Black.

The visiting McDonald females were checking up on Black family members who had recently contracted smallpox. Culp and his men “took the gold rings from their fingers and the silk handkerchiefs from their necks,” says Caruthers. “Then, putting their swords into their bosom, split down their silk dresses and, taking them out into the yard, stripped them of all their outer clothing.”

Standing off to the side was a detached and melancholy Col. Wade. When Mrs. Black inquired why he was not joining in the plunder, he responded there was nothing he wanted except “my son, my son!” — presumably the motherless boy executed at Piney Bottom.

As the Patriots prepared to leave with blankets, clothing and other seized items, Mrs. Black observed, “Well, you have a bad companion with you — the smallpox!” The trespassers immediately threw everything down and fled on horseback.

Later that day, the Whig militia killed Alexander Black at his farm. Then they came to the house of Peter Blue, who was being visited by his friend Archibald McBride, a Whig. Both were shot; Blue survived, but McBride, guilty only by association, did not.

Though frustrated in his efforts to apprehend John McNeill, Wade and the other Whig militiamen finally left the Sandhills and headed home. Caruthers concludes that the Tories had been taught a brutal, cruel lesson that “would deter them from ever attempting such a thing (as Piney Bottom) again.”

Meanwhile, the British military campaign in Virginia resulted in an unmitigated disaster. Cornwallis had currently foreseen that events in Virginia would decide the war, but not in the way he

intended. In September 1781, an American force led by George Washington, in tandem with French soldiers commanded by Gen. Jean-Baptiste Donatien de Vemeur, comte de Rochambeau, trapped Cornwallis’ army at Yorktown. A French naval blockade precluded any attempt by the British to evacuate, obtain supplies or secure reinforcements. Outwitted and checkmated, Cornwallis surrendered his army on Oct. 19, 1781.

The outcome at Yorktown had rapid ripple effects for the Crown. Maj. Craig evacuated Wilmington the following month. A year later, the British sailed away from Charles Town, ending 2½ years of occupation. David Fanning was on-board ship. The Treaty of Paris, in which King George finally acknowledged American independence, was signed on Sept. 3, 1783.

The war was over, but Thomas Wade was not done with John McNeill, whom he had arrested for his role in the murders at Piney Bottom. But Cunning John’s long-planted alibi would save his skin. Ebenezer Fulsome’s testimony that McNeill was still visiting him in Cumberland County at sundown the evening before the bloodshed convinced the jury that given the distance of travel involved, it was not probable McNeill would have made it to Longstreet Church, let alone Piney Bottom, in time to take part in the massacre.

It is noteworthy that neither Marren McDaniel nor the man to whom she was indentured, John McDaniel, took the stand. Both could have confirmed Cunning John’s flaunting of Marren’s woven brown cloth, as well as his boasting of how and where he got it.

Only one small monument, well off the beaten path, deep in the confines of Fort Bragg, commemorates the brutality at Piney Bottom. The site of the massacre was determined by the gun flints unearted in the vicinity. The Revolutionary War was not just a conflict between the British and the Americans; it was also a civil war — especially in North Carolina — in which neighbors killed neighbors over their political differences. In their mutual bloodlust, both sides dispensed with the rule of law and due process. Innocent people were murdered. Violence begat further violence. The big engagements like Yorktown secured the promises of the Declaration of Independence, but it’s worth remembering on America’s 250th that war, at any scale, is gruesome and cruel.

A riveting tour of sites on the reservation that are relevant to the bloody episode can be arranged by contacting Fort Bragg. In addition to the monument, a visitor can view remnants of the original Longstreet Church, where the Tories planned their pre-dawn attack. Nearby is the still standing successor Longstreet Church, erected in 1845. The newer church is adjacent to an ancient Presbyterian graveyard, where many of the old Highlanders are buried. Fort Bragg’s Cultural Resource team has also unearthed evidence establishing the site of the home where Cornwallis lodged during his army’s April 1781 march to Wilmington.

To arrange a tour, call Fort Bragg’s Cultural Resources Management Program at (910) 396-6680. PS

Pinehurst resident Bill Case is PineStraw’s history man. He can be reached at billcasewrites@gmail.com.

rocketing. The Fourth is about the Declaration.

The three North Carolinians were among a total of 56 signers of the Declaration. Great Britain considered all of them to be traitors, for which they risked their lives. The last line of the Declaration summarizes the gravity of the signers’ commitment: We mutually pledge to each other our lives, fortunes, and our sacred honor. Had the American rebellion failed, the signers would have likely been executed in the public square. Or as Benjamin Franklin, the oldest signer of the Declaration at the age of 70, observed, “We must all hang together or assuredly we shall hang separately.”

In July 1776, the Continental Congress, composed of delegates from the 13 British colonies lining the Atlantic Coast from

New Hampshire to Georgia, had been in session in Philadelphia for over a year. Hooper, Hewes and Penn, selected by their peers in North Carolina’s Provincial Congress, represented North Carolina. The primary topic was governance and whether the Colonies should seek independence from Great Britain.

The Colonies had recently ousted royal governors, and now Colonial assemblies were trying to figure out how to best govern themselves — but the people were still subjects of King George III, and a good number of Americans liked it that way. Many felt it was beneficial to remain with Great Britain, and numerous English, Scots and Scots-Irish settlers had known only loyalty to the king. Some historians describe the Revolutionary War as America’s first civil war.

News of deadly skirmishes in New England perpetrated by British troops against local militia, combined with King George III’s uncompromising efforts to tax and regulate the Colonists, increasingly drove Americans to question their loyalty to the Mother Country. The women of Eastern Carolina were notably engaged in their own protest of the crown and the British Parliament. Fifty-one women, led by Penelope Barker of Edenton, lent their names in the fight against tyranny when they staged the Edenton Tea Party in 1774. Parliament had passed several taxes on imported British goods, and the ladies of Edenton called for a boycott of British imports.

turned from spring to summer, throughout the Colonies, the call for independence was as hot as the weather. The delegates in Philadelphia got the message.

On July 4, 1776, the Continental Congress set forth the Declaration of Independence, which spelled out grievances with Great Britain and specifically with King George III. The collective body declared the “united” States of America to be free and independent states, absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown.

The Declaration was the seed of the future, but the lower case “u” in united, as printed in the Declaration, meant that each state was sovereign. For the time being, the states within their new independence would move forward in a loose alliance. That alliance took on the British military, and after eight years of battles and skirmishes from New Hampshire to Georgia and all the land in between, independence was secured in 1783.

Great Britain considered all of them to be traitors, for which they risked their lives.

As debates about independence crept along in Philadelphia, delegates would come and go, tending to matters at home. Among the dozens of delegates from the 13 Colonies, rarely was everyone present at the same time. Travel was hard — the trip by horse from North Carolina to Philadelphia took two to three weeks.

In North Carolina, momentum for self-governance was growing. In May 1775, Mecklenburg County leaders met in Charlotte and publicly resolved their desire for independence. Then, in April 1776, the North Carolina Provincial Congress put forth the Halifax Resolves in which North Carolina became the first Colony to call for independence from Great Britain. From that action in Halifax comes a significant claim: North Carolina — First in Freedom.

In January 1776, Thomas Paine, a theretofore little-known writer and thinker, released his pamphlet, Common Sense, which strongly advocated for American independence from Great Britain. Written for the masses, Paine called monarchies absurd and implored Americans to unite, proclaim independence, and create a democratic government. Paine’s words resonated. Common Sense was a bestseller. As the season

Despite their noble role in representing North Carolina in Philadelphia, Hooper, Hewes and Penn are relatively unknown today. They all died in their late 40s, and though they made continued contributions to the fledgling state of North Carolina after July 4, 1776, they never became widely heralded. Though each man is recognized by historical markers and tributes at their graves, there are no places in North Carolina named in their honor.

There are, however, places around our state for some of the big founding names. The town of Washington is on the Pamlico River, and the town of Jefferson is in the Blue Ridge. Franklin County is named for Ben, as is Franklin Street in Chapel Hill. Fayetteville is named for Lafayette, the young French officer who served under Washington. Thanks to a modern Broadway play, practically everyone now knows Alexander Hamilton. Hip-hop has proven to be a Revolutionary educator.

Even though he wasn’t from North Carolina, Gen. Nathanael Greene has several namesakes here, enough to make other Revolutionary leaders green with envy: Greensboro, Greenville and Greene County are all named in honor of the general. Additionally, a Greensboro brewer produces Natty Greene beer. Cheers!

Beyond its signers of the Declaration, North Carolina produced its share of founding heroes. Some of them are honored with county namesakes: Nash, Harnett, Moore, Jones, Lenoir and Sampson were all North Carolinians and founding leaders, but there are no counties named for Hooper, Hewes or Penn.

None of our signatories were originally from North

Carolina, but that was not unusual in their day. In the 1770s, it’s thought that over half the residents of North Carolina had come from somewhere else. It was a time of significant population growth and resettlement, and newcomers were plentiful in the state. People came from other states and abroad seeking land and opportunity, bringing new talents and skills, and new ways of thinking.

In 1776, William Hooper was a Wilmington lawyer, but he had previously lived in Campbelltown (present-day Fayetteville) and at one time served in Royal Gov. William Tryon’s legal department. Hooper had been a Royalist, a reminder that everyone in the Colonies was a subject of the king. His wife was the former Anne Clark, daughter of a New Hanover sheriff.

Born to a prominent Boston family in 1742, Hooper’s father was the second rector of Trinity Church. His son graduated from Boston Latin for his prep education, then earned both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree at Harvard University. Trinity Church, Boston Latin and Harvard are all still up and running. In addition to his formal training, Hooper studied law in Boston in the early 1760s under Boston lawyer James Otis, who was known for his strong advocacy of Colonial rights.

At the time of the Declaration, Joseph Hewes was a wellestablished Edenton merchant who had served in Colonial assemblies for 20 years. Hewes was in import-export trading and was a shipbuilder. Born on his family’s large farm in Kingston, New Jersey, in 1730, Hewes completed his formal studies at Kingston Friends School and was apparently bound for college at Princeton but — in today’s vernacular — turned pro instead. Strong-willed and ambitious, Hewes was drawn to commerce and in lieu of college, sought practical training as an apprentice to a Philadelphia merchant.

After five years of dock work and learning the trading business from the cargo hold up, Hewes struck out on his own, at first in Philadelphia. But by 1755, he was making a life and career for himself in Edenton. Hewes was engaged to marry the well-connected Isabella Johnston of Edenton, sister of Samuel Johnston, a future North Carolina governor. The Johnstons’ uncle was former Royal Gov. Gabriel Johnston. Sadly, Isabella Johnston died after a short illness before her marriage to Hewes could take place, and Hewes never married.

By 1776, John Penn was a known advocate for independence. A Virginia native who grew up on a small farm near the Rappahannock River in Caroline County, Penn was born in 1741 to a hard-working farm family. Though he received little formal education in his late teens, after the death of his father, he could afford to take time to study the law. John Adams famously said, “All Virginia geese are swans.” Yet, despite his Virginia birth and rearing, Penn was more goose than swan — but an ambitious, hard-working, smart goose.

Unlike Hooper and Hewes, he was not of the Eastern North Carolina elite. He lived in Granville County, in the northern

Piedmont, where he farmed and maintained a successful law practice. His wife, the former Susannah Lyme, was a native of Granville County, and their marriage is what brought Penn there. He was more typical of back country settlers who lived simpler lives and distrusted both the Crown and the Eastern North Carolina elite.

Though Penn was ready sooner than most to move on from Great Britain, Hooper and Hewes were not early rabble-rousers for independence. In fact, in 1775, Hewes was among the leaders in the Continental Congress that offered the Olive Branch Petition to King George, an offer for a reset in relations between the Americans and British through peaceful means. The offer was rebuffed by George III.

Frustrated by repeated British affronts, heavy taxes and regulations, enforced at times by corrupt officials, the North Carolina signers grew to accept that independence was the inescapable course. Hooper, Hewes and Penn were amiable colleagues, but not close friends. Their bond was a shared belief in the principles of self-governance, democracy and individual freedom — the spirit of ’76.

The North Carolina trio had challenges during the ensuing war. Hooper’s home, Finian, was situated on 100-plus acres on Masonboro Sound south of Wilmington. The British bombed and burned Finian, and Hooper and his entire family were forced to flee to Hillsborough, where they lived out their lives.

Leaving his family, farm and law practice for long periods, Penn attended more days of the Continental Congress than any other North Carolinian. Over the years, he was a member of 15 or more Congressional committees. Back home, Penn was involved in equipping and supplying both the North Carolina militia and soldiers of the Continental Army.

During the war, Hewes was in Philadelphia more than in Edenton, often using his knowledge and skill in trade and shipbuilding to help the American cause. He was in effect the first secretary of the Navy. As the war raged, his health worsened and he grew increasingly weak, probably from malaria. He died in his Philadelphia rooming house in 1779 and was laid to rest nearby in Christ Church Burial Ground, just a few hundred yards from where he signed the Declaration of Independence.

If not the authors, the three Carolinians — Hooper, Hewes and Penn — were witnesses and signatories to what historian Walter Isaacson has characterized as The Greatest Sentence Ever Written. “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and pursuit of Happiness.”

That’s not nothing. PS

Warren L. Bingham is a speaker, writer and author of George Washington’s 1791 Southern Tour.

True to Its Tradition

Preserving a home’s heart and history

By H azlette Huskins • PHotogra PHs By JoHn gessner

STORY OF A HOUSE

The “Nice Digges” cottage is exactly that. In an era of fast-paced living, retreating to this cottage is like going back to a time when your hometown was your whole world, and that was enough. Built in 1926 in the “community” section of Pinehurst, it was among the workers’ cottages where year-round residents lived, including postal employees, bank tellers, teachers, the Community Church minister and shop owners. Folks walked to work and school on streets named after local families like Everette, Fields, Kelly and Craig.

Van and Julie Mitchell were among the founding members of Forest Creek Golf Club when they purchased land there in 1994. After 10 years of staying in hotels on trips from their home in Southern Maryland, they decided to look for permanent accommodations that would be more comfortable while enjoying time at the club. They reached out to a Realtor friend who knew of a home that had been lightly renovated by a local family. Van came down to look at it the day after it went on the market, immediately made an offer, and the little white cottage on Short Road was theirs.

Once the couple got to know the neighbors and saw how special the block was, they decided to stay in the village full time.

Julie credits the village’s National Historic Landmark designation with encouraging preservation through thoughtful restorations of the beloved workers’ cottages. Over the years, the neighborhood has evolved into an eclectic group of new and longtime residents, including folks from Germany, South Africa, Turkey and Australia,

who attend the block’s warm weather happy hours they call “neighbor nights.”

Nothing says “welcome” better than the broad, covered front porch with a bespoke rocking chair.

Sponsored by the Mitchells as part of the Rock the Village project during the 2024 U.S. Open, it was painted by local artist Vanessa Grebe and includes symbols of their home states of Maryland and North Carolina, along with a portrayal of our area’s most notable passions — golf and horses.

When the Mitchells decided to renovate their cottage in 2010, they felt it was important to keep

the traditional Pinehurst look — white exterior, green roof and shutters — and applied for design approval from the Pinehurst Historic Preservation Committee. Van’s career in building supplies helped them clear hurdles along the way. When their builder suggested using easily available gray roof shingles, Van was able to track down the more elusive green ones. Dissatisfied with stock flooring options, he reached out to an old friend at a hardwood flooring manufacturer to get the lumber they knew would be perfect for creating a cohesive look between the old and new rooms downstairs. This attention to detail

was carried up to the loft space, where they repurposed the living room’s original pine floorboards. At the top of the steep, winding staircase is a hideaway fit for Peter Pan, where the grandchildren cherish sleepovers in a space all their own.

Van chose a bright Pantone yellow for the front door — a color he had used in his building supply company branding — but it took some convincing to get it approved and included in the historic village color palette. Julie met with the committee and, armed with a folder of research featuring photos of historic homes graced with doors painted the same color in Annapolis, Maryland, and Alexandria, Virginia, the color was approved.

The seamless expansion of the cottage’s footprint belies the thought and care that went into its planning. When they learned the pin oak in the side yard was one of the oldest in the area, the Mitchells planned around it rather than remove it for an addition.

Maintaining the authenticity of the interior of the historic structure was just as important to Julie

as the exterior. Subtle changes included extending the living room wall, adding space to the back of the house for a larger kitchen and primary bedroom, and adding a guest suite they call “the red room” to give the family more space for hosting friends and family.

Pinehurst was like a second home to Van long before he owned one there. A lifelong golfer, he has been a frequent visitor to the Sandhills since childhood. When he was 10, he and his father attended the 1974 opening of the World Golf Hall of Fame. He returned as a member of Campbell College’s golf team and later brought friends and colleagues to play Pinehurst No. 2.

On the way back to Maryland from the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta with their two young daughters, Molly and Megan, the family stayed at the Pine Crest Inn. Even then, Van and Julie knew they would eventually retire in Pinehurst. It’s been their full-time home now for five years, and they feel blessed to have their children and grandchildren in North Carolina as well.

When they began thinking of a name for the cottage, one of their daughters suggested using a paternal family name that was the perfect play on words — Digges. Van’s ancestors emigrated in the 1630s from Scotland to Maryland, where his family has been planted for five generations. “Nice Digges” was a natural. Julie has stayed in touch with the former owners — one grew up in the house, and the other is coincidentally from Julie’s hometown of Cranford, New Jersey — and learned the cottage was previously named Welikit (We like it). True to her dedication to preserving the home’s history, she hung a second nameplate over the porch’s screen door to honor its past.

Sitting humbly under the expansive pin oak, Nice Digges proudly turns 100 this year, lovingly prepared for its future. PS

Hazlette Huskins is a native North Carolinian, international business graduate of UNC Wilmington, Realtor, children’s book author, Arts Council of Moore County Fine Arts Festival award recipient, and co-founder of the Francophones of the Sandhills.

ALMANAC

July

By Ashley WAlshe

July is a carnival of butterflies.

As sunlight saturates the riotous garden, yellow and black visions float from Joe-pye weed to purple coneflower, pausing at each blossom like boats anchoring at tiny, teetering berths.

Seconds pass. Nectar passes through proboscis. Yet, time stands still.

Imagine breaking out of chrysalis to emerge here, in the lushness of summer. Kissing each flower. Delighting in an endless banquet. Relishing a lifetime in 10 ambrosial days.

These wonders leave us awestruck.

In sweeping fields, where grass cicadas and katydids broadcast themselves, buckeyes startle wrens and warblers with their wild, wide-eyed wingspots.

Life drifts blissfully along.

Silver-spotted skippers wish upon electric purple blazing star. Painted ladies worship cosmos flowers. Fritillaries flit among zinnia and thistle.

Walk through the forest, where summer azures appear as paper crafts, moonlit fairies, dainty apparitions. Dip your feet into the creek’s cool waters. Feel time slow when a winged one lights upon your salt-laced finger.

$1198 or more, $200 off any order of $698-$998, on any complete custom closet, other offer. Free installation with any incoming order, at time of purchase only.

regions.

Embody the transmission. Move at the speed of summer. Taste the earth through your feet as you walk upon it. Let the flowers guide you.

Here, where milkweed and monarch embrace, sip the nectar of the ephemeral. Slower. Slower. Slower, still.

Anchor yourself in this moment. Delight in the banquet. Relish in the wonder of these timeless days, this fluttering carnival of a lifetime.

What’s Poppin’

The summer garden spills.

Tomatoes swell on the vine. The corn silks tell of peak sweetness. The berries grow fat in the life-giving sun. The peaches are popping, too.

The annual N.C. Peach Festival takes place in Candor (Peach Capital of N.C.) July 16–18. Among the festivities: a hot wing competition, live music in the park, family fun and homemade peach ice cream. Get the sweet-and-juicy scoop at ncpeachfestival. com.

The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. — Rabindranath Tagore

Folk Medicine

It wouldn’t be summer without fresh watermelon, the nasal cries of nighthawks and — oh, yes — poison ivy.

You know the rhyme: Leaves of three, let it be. But what of the antidote?

Enter jewelweed, the tall, native beauty thriving along stream banks and moist woodland edges. Also called orange balsam, orange jewelweed, spotted jewelweed and spotted touch-me-not, this self-seeding summer annual is known by its orange, trumpetshaped blossoms, which dangle from the plant like fiery pendants.

Native Americans used jewel weed as medicine, apply ing sap from its stem and leaves to relieve skin irritations, including rashes from poison ivy and stinging nettle.

Thanks to nature’s endless brilliance, it’s common to find jewelweed growing wher ever poison ivy runs wild. And guess who adores those tubular flowers? Hummingbirds love its sugary nectar, making them a primary pollinator for this summer-blooming plant ally.

BARK WEEK PET PHOTO CONTEST

Welcome to Bark Week! At PineStraw Magazine, we love local pets so we’re celebrating them in this playful section. Inspired by the legends of the deep, we’ve rounded up Moore County’s most fascinating “sharks”… who upon closer inspection, look a lot like your dogs, cats, birds and other beloved companions.

You shared your photos with us, and we’ve had a blast turning everyday companions into the apex predators of the backyard, the living room and beyond — leading up to one standout winner at the end of the section.

Dive in and meet the stars of Bark Week.

The Great White Sharks Bold. Brave. Born for the spotlight.

The Hammerhead Sharks Quirky, goofy and wonderfully unique.

The Tiger Sharks

Curious explorers with a taste for adventure.

The Whale Sharks

Gentle giants with hearts as big as the ocean.

The Reef Sharks

Friendly faces who love making new friends.

The Lemon Sharks

Gentle, friendy and loves head pats

Carrying

the Spirit of Service into Moore County Businesses

MILITARY MAKERS & SHAKERS TGU HOME SOLUTIONS

“Success for TGU isn’t just measured in square footage or sales; it’s seeing our team of veterans thrive in meaningful work and handing the keys to a home that our clients are genuinely proud to call their own, built right from the ground up.”

TGU Home Solutions is a 100% veteran-owned custom home builder and remodeling firm rooted in the heart of Moore County. From its base in Aberdeen, TGU designs and builds bespoke residences, thoughtfully curated spec homes, and high-quality renovations that feel right at home in communities like Southern Pines, Pinehurst, Carthage, and Raeford. Every project reflects a simple promise: no shortcuts, clear communication, and craftsmanship that stands the test of time.

Founded by former U.S. Army combat engineer Jared Gay, TGU was born from more than two decades of military service and the brotherhood forged in uniform. The core team is made up of fellow veterans who traded combat boots for work boots, bringing mission planning, standard operating procedures, and uncompromising accountability onto every jobsite. For many of them, TGU is more than a company; it is a postservice landing zone where purpose, teamwork, and service to others continue in a new form.

That blend of military discipline, local roots, and design-forward building has set TGU apart in the Sandhills and beyond. Homeowners are kept in the loop from first handshake to final walkthrough, with a builder who answers the phone, explains the process, and treats each home as if it were their own. National recognition as a FOX Business “Made in America” contest winner showcased TGU on a broader stage, highlighting the firm as a Moore County success story built on service, integrity, and homes crafted from the ground up.

MILITARY MAKERS & SHAKERS NUTRISHOP

“To

us, success is seeing a customer achieve a goal or hearing a story about how much better they feel. It’s incredibly rewarding to cheer people on for a living!”

Amy & Bryce Bullman

OFFERINGS

At Nutrishop Southern Pines, we sell a huge variety of high quality supplements, but we are much more than just a supplement store. We seek to take away the intimidation and sense of overwhelm that can come with choosing supplements. All Nutrishop Southern Pines employees are well trained to educate and help determine the best fit for your lifestyle and specific goals. We have free samples of all our products, allowing you to taste flavors before buying. We also do free InBody analysis. The InBody 380 is a tool for measuring and tracking the amount and location of your body’s muscle and fat, your hydration, body symmetry, visceral fat and more. We provide this free service in an effort to support our customers in achieving their goals.

LOCAL & MILITARY TIES

Moore County has been our home for twenty six years. Amy is a native of Fayetteville. When Bryce got stationed at Ft. Bragg, they made the decision to settle in Moore County. The military has predominately been a factor in our business’ success. We have been blessed to receive support from many military members, spouses and families. We have always supported military (and non military) charity events. We’ve employed veterans, military spouses, and children from military families. It’d be impossible to overemphasize our love for and connection to Moore County’s military community.

OUR GOALS

Nutrishop Southern Pines is unique in that our goal, as a business, is not to sell as many supplements as we can. Our main goal is to provide a service to our customers and community. We want everyone to leave Nutrishop Southern Pines feeling happy and supported on their goals, and confident on a clear plan.

MILITARY MAKERS & SHAKERS

Service has always been at the heart of who I am — from serving my country in the Marine Corps to serving my patients today. My goal is to help people feel confident, cared for, and empowered while building lasting relationships within the community I call home.

BELLA MARIE AESTHETICS

Audrey Francis

THE PRACTICE

Bella Marie Aesthetics is a boutique medical spa, dedicated to helping clients look and feel their best through safe and personalized care. We offer a comprehensive range of aesthetic and wellness services, including neurotoxins, dermal fillers, laser treatments, RF collagen regeneration, microneedling, PRP treatments, hair restoration therapies, medical- grade skincare and wellness-focused treatments.

EXPERTISE WITH A PERSONALIZED TOUCH

Our goal is to provide exceptional results while creating an experience that is comfortable, welcoming and built on trust. What makes our practice unique is the combination of advanced medical expertise and genuine personal connection. As a Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist and Family Nurse Practitioner, I bring an extensive clinical background to aesthetics while maintaining a warm, patient-centered approach. Beautiful results start with trust, education and individualized care.

MOORE COUNTY MILITARY CONNECTION

My connection to Moore County runs deep. I was born here to an Army family. After high school, I joined the United States Marine Corps. After completing my military service, I returned home to Moore County. Using the GI Bill, I earned my Registered Nursing degree from Sandhills Community College in Pinehurst, which led to my advanced nursing education and career in healthcare. The military has played a significant role in shaping both my life and my business. My dad and the Marine Corps taught me discipline, integrity, accountability and service before self— values that continue to guide every decision I make. As a military spouse, I also understand the many sacrifices military families make and the importance of resilience, adaptability and community.

MILITARY MAKERS & SHAKERS DEER CREEK FARM

There’s no such thing as a bad dog, only a bad handler.

Established in 2004, Deer Creek Farm is a small, privately owned family farm situated on 50 secluded acres in Moore County not far from Carthage. We are nestled back in the Sandhills but located within a short driving distance of Southern Pines, Fayetteville and Raleigh. We are bordered by cattle farms and wine vineyards. We are ecofriendly and do not use any herbicides, pesticides, or synthetic fertilizers on our farm. We strive to be good stewards of the land as we not only maintain our livestock, but manage the farm’s resident wildlife as well.

MILITARY MAKERS & SHAKERS

I’ve had a number of returning guests because of their experience here. I’ve had guests invite me to their location to share the same hospitality they experienced here. People are a part of our lives, and I strive to make people my business.

1878 BED AND BREAKFAST

Elizabeth Nhambure

ABOUT THE B&B

1878 Bed and Breakfast at the Historic Muse House is a veteran owned Bed and Breakfast in Historic Cameron, the smallest municipality in Moore County. It is unique because it is the first Bed and Breakfast in Historic Cameron, and because of the culinary experience. I offer and serve three meals to my guests. There is conversation between me and my guests, related to meals, starting with dietary considerations. Afterwards, we discuss lunch menu options and later on in the day, dinner. Before guests settle down for the night and usually over dinner, we discuss their morning plans and breakfast requests. The meals are homecooked, by me, which is fun within itself as guests tend to hang around in the kitchen and visit often inviting me to join them at the dinner table.

MOORE COUNTY CONNECTION

After a Permanent Change of Station (PCS) from Kuwait to Greensboro in 2014, a serendipitous moment brought me through Moore County, specifically, Historic Cameron. My love for this home, once I saw it in passing, was my only connection to Moore County. North Carolina wasn’t on my any list of places to call home, until I arrived in Moore County. Now, as a part of the community, I actively volunteer and participate whenever an opportunity of interest is presented. I moved to Moore County three years ago and have since served in numerous capacities in addition to owning and operating 1878 Bed and Breakfast. I am currently a member of the Southern Pines Rotary Club, Southern Pines; The Village Chapel, Pinehurst; and after one year serving on the Board of Trustees at the Arts Council of Moore County, expressed interest led me to being elected as the President of the Board of Trustees.

MILITARY INFLUENCE

The military directly and indirectly shaped my business. The military exposed me to the world and increased cultural awareness. The military instilled the discipline to commit and follow through. Those were the internal factors that governed my drive. The external factors included my grandfather, who fought in World War II, and subsequently taught me skills including mechanical, farming, gardening and carpentry. My grandmother who encouraged me to join the military and seek higher education. My granny wanted to join the military but chose to stay home and take care of the family, including working as an Innkeeper at Three Angels Inn, in Virginia.

MILITARY MAKERS & SHAKERS

MILITARY MAKERS & SHAKERS

Spartan Property Management is built on real-world investing experience, not theory.

BEFORE YOU GIVE UP YOUR 2–3%

INTEREST RATE…

RATE…

Thousands of military homeowners are facing the same question right now: Sell… or turn it into a rental?

Thousands of military homeowners are facing the same question right now: Sell… or turn it into a rental?

THE RIGHT MOVE MATTERS

THE RIGHT MOVE MATTERS

The wrong decision could cost you hundreds of thousands over time. The right one can change your financial future.

The wrong decision could cost you hundreds of thousands over time. The right one can change your financial future.

At Meese Property Group and Spartan Property Management, we help you run the numbers, understand your options, and build a plan that actually works long-term.

At Meese Property Group and Spartan Property Management, we help you run the numbers, understand your options, and build a plan that actually works long-term.

NOT SURE WHAT TO DO NEXT?

NOT SURE WHAT TO DO NEXT?

PCS Orders? Low Interest Rate?

Unsure of your next steps?

Unsure of your next steps?

Get a custom “Sell vs. Rent” strategy built for your situation. Spartan Property Management

PCS Orders? Low Interest Rate?

Get a custom “Sell vs. Rent” strategy built for your situation.

listings@meesepropertygroup.com 910-725-0037

hello@spartannc.com 910-725-2394

hello@spartannc.com 910-725-2394

COOKIES & MOORE

Michelle Elwood

Cookies & Moore is a woman veteran-owned mobile bakery serving Moore County with fresh-baked cookies, ice cream, and catering for community, corporate, and private events. After retiring from 23 years of Army service, owner Michelle Elwood purchased the business and brought a missionfocused approach to customer service and operations. Military leadership taught her the importance of consistency, adaptability, and taking care of people. As both a veteran and military spouse, Michelle is especially proud to be part of our Moore County community that so strongly supports our service members, veterans, and military families.

@cookiesandmoorenc

CRAWLSPACE OPS

THE KING’S CUSTOM FRAMING

Josh Engle

The King’s Custom Framing is an Air Force veteran-owned small business in Moore County dedicated to preserving memories, honoring achievements, and telling stories through custom framing. From military uniforms and medals to family heirlooms, artwork, and photographs, we create one-of-a-kind displays designed to last for generations. Military service instilled the values of discipline, attention to detail, integrity, and mission-focused customer service that guide our work every day. As proud members of the Moore County community, we are honored to help our neighbors celebrate their history, preserve their legacies, and showcase what matters most.

15 Dawn Rd #3 • Pinehurst, NC 910-295-5451 kingscustomframing.com

HIGH OCTANE

Nicola Squires

We are open seven days a week as a woman-owned and operated business. Nicola is a former military spouse, and the building itself is veteran-owned. Our mission is to provide a variety of high-quality coffee options with a touch of nostalgia. Come visit us and enjoy our outdoor seating when the weather permits, or join us on special nights for live music, wine, beer, and delicious food from a local food truck.

140 Sycamore Street, Aberdeen NC 28315

DELUCIA’S BAKE SHOP

Dena DeLucia and Chelsea Huggins

HAPPY 250TH BIRTHDAY

I served for a little over 23 years in the Army, stationed from Europe to California and mostly here in the great Ft. Bragg area. I have called this area home since 2007. Baking is my “love language,” and after I retired, I realized my second passion to serve in a new way was baking. So my business partner Chelsea and I jumped in (no pun intended) and here we are! We love serving the Moore County community and appreciate your support more than you know.

4245 Seven Lakes Plaza B West End, NC 27376 910-400-5075

deluciasbakeshop.com

R. RIVETER

Laura Vien

R. Riveter was founded by military spouses who understood the challenges of building a career while supporting military service. What began as a kitchen-table idea grew into a nationally recognized brand, earning investment on Shark Tank and opening its flagship store in Southern Pines. Inspired by service and resilience, R. Riveter creates handbags and accessories that preserve stories and honor the military community that shaped its mission.

154 NW Broad Street

Southern Pines, NC 28387

JAMES CREEK CIDER HOUSE

David & Ann Marie Thornton

Building community and creating cider from local heirloom apples has been our passion since planting our first apple tree. We are grateful that David’s service made us part of the military community here and deeply appreciate the outstanding former military members and mil-spouses on our team. Cheers!

172 US Hwy. 1

Cameron, NC 28326 910-245-9901

jamescreekciderhouse.com

JULY 2026

Although conscientious effort is made to provide accurate and up-to-date information, all events are subject to change and errors can occur! Please call to verify times, costs, status and location before planning or attending any events.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 1

PATRIOTIC CRAFTS. 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. To celebrate America’s 250th birthday, you can stop by the library for a day of patriotic crafts. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-3642 or www. vopnc.org.

TWEEN COCOA CLUB. 1 - 2 p.m. It’s winter in July. Tweens ages 8 - 12 can beat the outside heat in the cold AC and “warm up” with hot cocoa. Add fun toppings, creativity and conversation for a great time. A librarian will be there to chat and share book recommendations. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.sppl.net.

THURSDAY, JULY 2

EDUCATIONAL TRAINING. 11

a.m. - 12 p.m. Adults 55 and older can come for educational training with a new topic each month. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

FRIDAY, JULY 3

LUNCH BUNCH. 12:30 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to dine on different cuisines each month as we visit area restaurants. Carpool with friends or meet at the restaurant. Dining locations will be chosen the week before. Info: (910) 692-7376.

To add or delete an event, email us at pinestraw.calendar@gmail.com

SUNDAY, JULY 5

WRITING GROUP. 3 p.m. Are you interested in creating fiction, nonfiction, poetry or comics? Come to the Sunday Afternoon Writing Group. Connect with other writers and artists, chat about your craft, and get feedback about your work. All levels welcome. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: lholden@sppl.net.

BINGO. 11 a.m. - 12 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to play 10 games of bingo. Cost is $4 for residents and $6 for non-residents. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 8

TECH TIME. 11 a.m. Join a walk-in tech time to get hands-on help with tech questions. Whether you’re new to computers, want to learn more about your smartphone, or want to learn how to use your eReader, staff will guide you. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: jmilford@sppl.net.

GARDEN TOUR

Thursday, July 9, 2026

Sandhills Horticultural Gardens

CONCERT AND FIREWORKS. 6 - 9 p.m. Join a free celebration with children’s activities, music, dancing, food, beverages and fireworks. Pinehurst Harness Track, 200 Beulah Hill Road S., Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-3642 or www.vopnc.org.

COSMIC KARAOKE. 7 - 10 p.m. Bring your friends, family and co-workers. Free to participate. Starworks Cafe and Taproom, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www.StarworksNC.org.

SATURDAY, JULY 4

PARADE. 9:45 a.m. - 12 p.m. Honor the U.S.A. during the annual Independence Day parade. The pet parade will kick things off. Stick around for the farmers market. Tufts Memorial Park, 1 Village Green Road W., Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-3642 or www.vopnc.org.

MONDAY, JULY 6

QUILTS OF VALOR. 12 - 4 p.m. Quilts of Valor meets the first Monday of each month to create lap quilts made especially for veterans. If you sew, bring your machine; if you don’t sew, you can iron or cut out fabrics for new designs. This is a free program. Moore County Senior Enrichment Center, 8040 U.S. 15-501, West End.

TUESDAY, JULY 7

BRAIN FITNESS. 10 - 10:45 a.m. Adults 18 and older are invited to enjoy short relaxation and brain enhancement exercises, ending with a mindfulness practice. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

THURSDAY, JULY 9

GARDEN TOUR. 10 - 11 a.m. Sandhills Horticultural Gardens’ monthly tour showcases plants in bloom that attract bees, butterflies and other pollinators. Free of charge. Limit of 15 people. Ball Visitors Center, 3245 Airport Road, Southern Pines. Info: www. sandhills.edu/gardenevents.

POETRY READING CLUB. 11 a.m.12 p.m. Adults 55 and older can bring a favorite poem or one you have written to share with friends. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376. HOT GLASS, COLD BEER. 5:30 - 7:30 p.m. A summer series of live artistry and cold drinks. This month is flameworking. Open to the public. Cost to attend is a $5 suggested donation. Starworks, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www.StarworksNC.org.

FRIDAY, JULY 10

SPARK STORY TIME. 10 a.m. Join a special, once-a-month story time at Fire Station 82. Ages birth to 5 are welcome. Caregiver participation required. Fire Station 82, 7850 NC-22, Carthage. Info: www.sppl.net.

SENIOR SHOW AND TELL. 10:30 - 11:30 a.m. Take a trip down memory lane and share a piece of your past with others. Celebrate stories, memories and make new friends at this fun event. To present an item or story, please register in advance by calling the library or visiting the SPPL website. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: mhoward@sppl.net.

HORSE EVENT. Sedgefield hunter/jumper show. There will be approximately 250 riders. Food trucks and vendors on-site. Event continues through July 12. Carolina Horse Park, 2814

Montrose Road, Raeford. Info: www.carolinahorsepark.com.

CRAFT NIGHT. 6:30 - 8:30 p.m. Join a monthly community craft night. Starworks, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www.StarworksNC.org.

SATURDAY, JULY 11

FOSSIL DIG. 10:30 a.m. Kids ages 3 - 12 are invited to a fossil dig with Dr. Ashley Oliphant. The multipurpose room will be transformed into an archeological dig site, and kids will have the chance to find shark teeth, fossils and seashells to keep. Space is limited, and registration is required. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: https://forms.gle/ eZebbHamXi52L8fC6.

SEASHELL HUNTING TIPS. 1 p.m. Adults can learn seashell hunting tips with Dr. Ashley Oliphant. Learn how to read the tides, moon phases, wind directions and wave heights that can impact your beachcombing success. Dr. Oliphant will have signed copies of her book, The Ultimate Shell Seeker’s Guide, available for purchase. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines.

Guests are welcome. Sandhills Horticultural Ball Visitors Center, 3245 Airport Road, Southern Pines. Info: www.sandhillsphotoclub.org.

Candor for the annual peach festival. Enjoy live music, sweet treats, vendors and all the peaches you can eat. Cost is $3 for residents and $5 for non-residents. Info: (910) 692-7376.

OPEN MIC NIGHT. 7 - 9 p.m. Let your talents shine. Musical numbers, spoken word or other performances welcome. Starworks Cafe and Taproom, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www. StarworksNC.org.

LIVE MUSIC. 6:30 p.m. Doug Massey performs. Starworks Cafe and Taproom, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www.StarworksNC.org.

MONDAY, JULY 13

LUNCH AND LEARN. 12 p.m. Join awardwinning author and naturalist Mark Warren for a presentation on the forest’s gifts. The Great Room, Weymouth Center for the Art & Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.weymouthcenter.org.

FUN WITH YARN. 1 - 3 p.m. Marianne Lewis, an accomplished knitter, will guide kids through an intro to knitting. Campbell House, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www. ticketmesandhills.com.

TEEN SILENT BOOK CLUB. 3:30 - 5 p.m.

Teens can bring a book, eBook or audiobook and join a quiet reading time with snacks and good company. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.sppl.net.

SUMMER CONCERT SERIES. 6:30 - 8 p.m.

The Sandhills Community College Jazz Band presents “Swingin’ Come Rain or Shine.” Free of charge, but tickets are required. BPAC’s Owens Auditorium, 3395 Airport Road, Pinehurst. Info: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

PHOTO CLUB. 7 p.m. Sandhills Photo Club’s monthly meeting presents “Sports Photography,” by Tracy Colburn, a sports photographer for the Miami Herald who specializes in capturing highimpact action and authentic athlete portraits.

Thursday, July 23, 2026

Sunrise Theater

TUESDAY, JULY 14

HATHA YOGA. 10 - 11 a.m. Adults 55 and older can increase flexibility, balance, stability and muscle tone while learning the basic principles of alignment and breathing. You may gain strength, improve circulation and reduce chronic pain practicing gentle yoga postures and mindfulness. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

AARP TALK. 12 - 12:30 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to join AARP for a fraud talk. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

TWEEN BOOK CLUB. 3 - 4 p.m. Read a book together, talk about your favorite moments and enjoy activities at this tween read-aloud book club. Designed for ages 8 - 12. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.sppl.net.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 15

PLAYTIME IN THE PARK. 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. Kids, bring your parents out and join other friends for giant checkers, giant Jenga, bubbles, fun and more. Free of charge. Downtown Park, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

THURSDAY, JULY 16

PEACH FESTIVAL TRIP. 3:30 - 7:30 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to cruise down to

FRIDAY, JULY 17

CURIOUS KIDS. 11 a.m. - 12 p.m. For kids ages 7 - 10 who like to build, test, mix and figure things out through hands-on, open-ended activities that spark curiosity and problem-solving. This month, become a golf ball engineer and mini golf designer. Build and test your own golf ball on our mini golf course, then design a mini golf hole. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.sppl.net.

POPSICLE POP UP. 12 - 1 p.m. All ages can come cool off with popsicles courtesy of Southern Pines Parks and Recreation. Reservoir Park, 300 Reservoir Park Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

SATURDAY, JULY 18

TEEN OUTING. 8 a.m. - 3:30 p.m. Teens ages 12 - 17 can travel to the mountains to tube down the Dan River. Pack a lunch for picnicking. Bus departs from the Rec Center, 160 Memorial Park Court, Southern Pines. Cost is $60 for residents and $84 for non-residents. Info: (910) 692-7376.

PLASMA CUTTING WORKSHOP. 9:30 a.m. Learn how to use a handheld plasma torch. Materials and safety gear are provided. Cost is $250. Starworks, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www.StarworksNC.org.

STORYTIME. 10:15 a.m. - 12 p.m. Saturday Storytime is a once-a-month program for children from birth to age 5. Come for stories, songs, rhymes and smiles where caregivers and young children can interact and explore the fun of language and early literacy. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.sppl.net.

DYE WORKSHOP. 3 - 5 p.m. This indigo blue workshop is about natural dyes grown on our farm. The event is outdoors and includes all supplies. Learn the basics of natural dye and how to grow indigo blue. LB’s Farm, 965 Pineywood Church Road, Cameron. Info: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

HORSE EVENT. War horse eventing series. There will be approximately 300 riders. Dressage, arenas and cross country events. Food trucks and vendors on-site. Event continues through July 19. Carolina Horse Park, 2814 Montrose Road, Raeford. Info: www.carolinahorsepark.com.

MAMMA MANIA!

TRIVIA NIGHT. 6:30 p.m. Bring your group of friends and meet new ones as you compete to see who has the most trivia knowledge. Free of charge. Starworks Cafe and Taproom, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www.StarworksNC.org.

MUSIC. 7:30 p.m. Bring Out Yer Dead, the ultimate Grateful Dead tribute band, performs. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.sunrisetheater.com.

SUNDAY, JULY 19

CONCERT. 4 - 5 p.m. The Community Congressional Church presents Trio Arundo. Community Congressional Church, 141 N. Bennett St., Southern Pines. Info: www.ticketmesandhills.com.

TUESDAY, JULY 21

BRAIN FITNESS. 10 - 10:45 a.m. Adults 18 and older are invited to enjoy short relaxation and brain enhancement exercises, ending with a mindfulness practice. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

JAMES BOYD BOOK CLUB. 2 p.m. This month the club will discuss Who’s Your Founding Father? One Man’s Epic Quest to Uncover the First Declaration of Independence, by David Fleming. Free admission, but registration is required. The

Great Room, Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.weymouthcenter.org.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 22

PICNIC IN THE PARK. 11 a.m. - 12 p.m. Ages 12 and under can join Southern Pines Parks and Recreation once a month this summer for fun games, crafts and story time. Bring your own picnic lunch. Free of charge. Elizabeth High Rounds Park, 570 Pee Dee Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

THURSDAY, JULY 23

MUSIC. 7 p.m. Mamma Mania! the ABBA concert experience. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.sunrisetheater.com.

FRIDAY, JULY 24

TWEEN MAPMAKING. 2 - 3 p.m. Teens and tweens can learn how to design imaginative maps for role-playing games or just for fun. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.sppl.net.

MUSIC BINGO. 6 - 9 p.m. Enjoy playing music bingo. Free to play. Starworks Cafe and Taproom, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www. StarworksNC.org.

THEATER. 7 p.m. 11 Days, a live theatrical event. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.sunrisetheater.com.

SATURDAY, JULY 25

CRAFT DAYS. Children and families can come to a drop-in craft day, anytime during the day, to work on a fun, hands-on craft at their own pace. Crafts are designed for children in grades K-5 and their families. This is a self-guided activity, so caregivers should plan to assist as needed. While supplies last. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

TEEN CRAFTS. Tweens and teens can visit the teen space to work on fun, hands-on crafts at their own pace. This is a self-guided activity. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www. sppl.net.

PEACHGRASS FESTIVAL. 6 p.m. The third annual PeachGrass Festival will have live music, food and drinks. On the lawn, Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.weymouthcenter.org.

LIVE MUSIC. 6:30 p.m. Jordan Napoli-Cranford performs. Starworks Cafe and Taproom, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www.StarworksNC.org.

JULY CALENDAR

DANCE. 6:30 - 9:30 p.m. Join the fun with Carolina Pines Dance Club to dance swing, shag, ballroom, Latin and line dances. There is a lesson at 7 p.m. and dancing from 7:30 - 9:30 p.m. Cost is $10 per person. Given Outpost, 95 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 331-9965.

MUSIC. 7:30 p.m. Doug MacLeod performs. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.sunrisetheater.com.

SUNDAY, JULY 26

STEAM. 2:30 - 3:30 p.m. Elementary-aged children and their caregivers are invited to learn about topics in science, technology, engineering, art and math, and to participate in STEAM projects and activities. This month make your own ice cream in a bag. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

TUESDAY, JULY 28

CREATIVITY CLUB. 3:45 - 4:45 p.m. Creativity Club at the fire station is a monthly program. This month, make abstract art. Activities are designed for kids in grades K-5 but are adaptable to other ages and abilities. Caregiver participation is required. Fire Station 82, 7850 NC-22, Carthage. Info: www.southernpines.net/FormCenter/ Library-11/Creativity-Club-Registration-117.

FRIDAY, JULY 31

LIVE MUSIC. 6:30 p.m. Momma Molasses performs. Starworks Cafe and Taproom, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: www.StarworksNC.org.

PADDLE UNDER THE STARS. 8:30 p.m. Adults 18 and older can enjoy a mix of science and mythology about the night sky while kicking back in canoes or kayaks. Bring your own canoe, kayak or paddleboard, flashlight and life jacket. Registration required. Reservoir Park, 300 Reservoir Park Road, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

UPCOMING EVENTS

FRIDAY, AUGUST 7

FIRST FRIDAY. 5 p.m. Enjoy a night on the Sunrise lawn with music by Florencia & The Feeling. Sunrise Theater, 250 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: www.sunrisetheater.com.

FINE ARTS FESTIVAL. 6 - 8 p.m. Join the Arts Council of Moore County at the opening reception for the Fine Arts Festival. Artwork will remain on display through Aug. 26. Campbell House, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: www.mooreart.org.

WEEKLY EVENTS

MONDAYS

CHAIR YOGA. 9 - 10 a.m. For adults 55 and older. Help offset body aches encountered with desk work. This is an accessible yoga class for bodies not able to easily get up from and down to the floor. Do standing or sitting in a chair.

Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

JIGSAW PUZZLES. 9 a.m. - 3 p.m. Adults 55 and older can enjoy puzzle fun with friends or solo. Free of charge. Puzzles can be done Monday through Friday. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

FITNESS MEMBERSHIP. 9 a.m. - 4:30 p.m. Adults 55 and older can use a variety of equipment such as treadmills, free weights, stationary bikes and more. Cost for a six-month membership is $18 for residents and $26 for non-residents. The fitness room is open Monday through Friday. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

INDOOR WALKING. 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. Adults 55 and older can get an indoor walking membership in the climate-controlled gym. Membership can be used Monday through Friday. Cost for a six-month membership is $18 for residents and $26 for non-residents. Southern Pines Recreation Center, 160 Memorial Park Court, Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

SENIOR FITNESS. 11 a.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to a TruFit gym class to improve strength, mobility and flexibility. Douglass

Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

RESTORATIVE YOGA. 12 p.m. For adults 55 and older. Practice gentle movements that may help alleviate pain and improve circulation and general well-being. Bring your own mat. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

BRIDGE. 1:30 - 4:30 p.m. For adults 55 and older. Enjoy games of bridge with friends. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

ACTIVE LIVING. 2:30 - 3:30 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to join a 12-week program that teaches sedentary people the skills necessary to overcome barriers to becoming physically active. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

TUESDAYS

VIRTUAL SPINNING CLASS. 8:30 - 9 a.m.

Adults 18 and older can do a 30-minute bike workout that is fun and effective. Limit of seven people per class. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

between periods of brisk and slow walking. Free of charge. No class on the second Tuesday of the month. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

PLAYFUL LEARNING. 10 a.m. - 2 p.m. Come to a drop-in, open playtime for ages 0 - 3 years to interact with other children and have educational playtime. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-3642.

BABY RHYMES. 10:15 a.m. Baby Rhymes is specially designed for the youngest learners (birth- 2) and their caregivers. Repetition and comforting movements make this story time perfect for early development and brain growth. There will be a duplicate session at 10:45 a.m. An active library card is required. Dates this month are July 7, 14, 21 and 28. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

GAME DAY. 12 - 4 p.m. Fun, fellowship, games and activities. For adults 55 and older. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

CHESS. 1:30 - 5 p.m. Join a chess group, whether you have been playing for a while or have never played. This is a free program. Moore County Senior Enrichment Center, 8040 U.S. 15-501, West End.

INTERVAL WALKING. 9:15 - 9:45 a.m. Adults 18 and older can do interval walking, alternating

TABLE TENNIS. 3 - 5 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to enjoy free games of table tennis while making new friends. The second Tuesday of the month games will be played on that Thursday instead. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

LINE DANCE. 4:45 p.m. Put on your dancing shoes and line dance. This is for beginners and is a free program. Moore County Senior Enrichment Center, 8040 U.S. 15-501, West End.

WEDNESDAYS

INTERVAL WALKING. 9:15 - 9:45 a.m. Adults 18 and older can do interval training alternating between periods of brisk and slow walking. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

CHAIR AEROBICS. 10 - 11 a.m. For adults 55 and older. Put on your boogie shoes and jam. Get fit to dance, partying up a sweat to great music through the ages. You can stand and chair dance to this energizing, low-impact aerobic workout. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

BRAIN BOOST. 10 - 11 a.m. Test your memory while creating new brain connections. This is a

JULY CALENDAR

free program. Moore County Senior Enrichment Center, 8040 U.S. 15-501, West End.

KNITTING. 10 - 11 a.m. Enjoy knitting with other people or learn how to knit. This is a free program. Moore County Senior Enrichment Center, 8040 U.S. 15-501, West End.

BABY STORYTIME. 10 - 11 a.m. Have fun developing the foundation for your baby’s later reading with stories, songs and play. Open to parents and caregivers of infants from newborn to 24 months. Moore County Library, 101 W. Saunders St., Carthage. Info: (910) 947-5335.

LEARN AND PLAY. 10 a.m. - 12 p.m. Come to an open play date with your toddler or preschooler. There will be developmental toys and puzzles as well as early literacy tips on display for parents to incorporate into daily activities. Dates this month are July 1, 8, 15, 22 and 29. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www. sppl.net.

SENIOR FITNESS. 11 a.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to a TruFit gym class to improve strength, mobility and flexibility. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

PIANO. 11 a.m. - 12 p.m. Join Flint Long to play piano or just listen. This is a free program. Moore

County Senior Enrichment Center, 8040 U.S. 15-501, West End.

LINE DANCING. 12 - 1 p.m. Looking for new ways to get your daily exercise in and care for yourself? Try line dancing. For adults 55 and older. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

CHAIR VOLLEYBALL. 1 - 2 p.m. For adults 55 and older. Get fit while having fun. Free to participate. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

BRIDGE. 1:30 - 4:30 p.m. For adults 55 and older. Enjoy games of bridge with friends. All materials included. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

DANCE. 2 - 2:30 p.m. For adults 55 and older. Instructor Maria Amaya will introduce you to dance fitness in a class designed for anyone who wants to gently and gradually increase cardio function, mobility and balance while having fun at the same time. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

LINE DANCING. 2 p.m. The town of Vass will host line dancing for seniors every other

Wednesday. Cost is $5 per session. Vass Town Hall, 140 S. Alma St., Vass. Info: www. townofvassnc.gov.

LIBRARY PROGRAM. 3:30 p.m. At The Library After School (ATLAS) is an after-school program for children ages kindergarten through second grade who enjoy activities, crafts, stories and meeting new friends. Dates this month are July 1, 8, 15, 22 and 29. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

TAI CHI. 6:30 p.m. Learn tai chi. There is no age limit, and the classes are open to the public. Cost is $10 per class. Seven Lakes West Community Center, 556 Longleaf Drive, Seven Lakes. Info: (910) 400-5646.

THURSDAYS

VIRTUAL SPINNING CLASS. 8:30 - 9 a.m.

Adults 18 and older can do a 30-minute bike workout that is fun and effective. Limit of seven people per class. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

MOORE COUNTY FARMERS MARKET.

9 a.m. - 1 p.m. The year-round market features “producer only” vendors within a 50-mile radius providing fresh, local and seasonal produce, fruits, pasture meats, eggs, potting plants, cut flowers and local honey. Crafts, baked goods, jams

JULY CALENDAR

and jellies are also available. Market is located at the Armory Sports Complex, 604 W. Morganton Road, Southern Pines.

GIVEN STORYTIME. 10 a.m. Bring your preschooler to enjoy stories, songs and activities. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Road, Pinehurst. Info: (910) 295-3642.

BALANCE AND FLEXIBILITY. 10 - 11 a.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to enjoy a class to help reduce the risk of taking a tumble and increase their ability to recover if they do. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

MUSIC AND MOTION. 10:15 and 10:45 a.m. Does your toddler like to move and groove? Join Music and Motion to get those wiggles out and work on gross and fine motor skills. For ages 2 - 5. An active library card is required. Dates this month are July 2, 9, 16, 23 and 30. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www. sppl.net.

GENTLE YOGA. 12:30 - 1:30 p.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to unwind, recharge and find peace in their week. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

MAHJONG. 1 - 3 p.m. For adults 55 and older. Mahjong involves skill, strategy, calcula-

tion and luck. Requires four players. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

IMPROVERS LINE DANCE. 3 - 5:30 p.m. Put on your dancing shoes and line dance. This is a free program. Moore County Senior Enrichment Center, 8040 U.S. 15-501, West End.

LITTLE U. 3:45 p.m. Little U is a preschool program for children ages 3½ to 5. Enjoy stories, songs, rhymes and activities that explore the world of books, language and literacy. Little U is a fun and interactive program designed to help preschoolers develop early literacy skills in preparation for kindergarten and beyond. Dates this month are July 2, 9, 16, 23 and 30. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-8235 or www. sppl.net.

FRIDAYS

AEROBIC DANCE. 9 - 10 a.m. For adults 55 and older. Enjoy this low-to-moderate impact class with energizing music for an overall cardio and strength workout. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

JAM SESSION. 9:30 - 11:30 a.m. Do you like to play an instrument, sing or just listen to music? Come join a jam session. This is a free program.

Moore County Senior Enrichment Center, 8040 U.S. 15-501, West End.

TAP CLASS. 10 - 11:30 a.m. For adults 55 and older. All levels welcome. Cost for sixmonth membership: $18/resident; $26/nonresident. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

SENIOR FITNESS. 11:30 a.m. Adults 55 and older are invited to a TruFit gym class to improve strength, mobility and flexibility. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

QIGONG. 1 p.m. For adults 55 and older. Classes will consist of chair and standing movements that can help soothe achy feet and tight hips while easing restriction in mobility and lower back pain. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

BRIDGE. 1:30 - 4:30 p.m. For adults 55 and older. Enjoy games of bridge with friends. All materials included. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

DRUM CIRCLE. 2 - 3 p.m. Adults 18 and older can feel the rhythm, find their groove and connect through beat. No experience necessary. Free of charge. Douglass Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-7376.

SATURDAYS

MOORE COUNTY FARMERS MARKET. 8 a.m. - 12 p.m. This market features “producer only” vendors within a 50-mile radius providing fresh, local and seasonal produce, fruits, pasture meats, eggs, potting plants, cut flowers and local honey. Crafts, baked goods, jams and jellies are also available. The market runs through Nov. 21. Downtown Southern Pines, 156 S.E. Broad St., Southern Pines.

SANDHILLS FARMERS MARKET. 10 a.m. - 1 p.m. The Sandhills Farmers Market features the area’s farms, nurseries, bakeries, meat and egg providers, cheesemakers and specialty food producers. The market runs twice weekly through Sept. 30 at Tufts Park, 1 Village Green Road W., Pinehurst. For more information visit: www. moorefarmfresh.com.

Photo by Joseph Hill

SandhillSeen

Ladies Wine Out

Weymouth Center For The Arts & Humanities

Friday, May 29, 2026

Photographs by Diane McKay

Tena Martin, Donna Ryals, Cheryl Bare, Marie O’Brien

Wendy Farrell, Annie Hensor, Emily Stefanick

Galen Miller, Sofia Nelson, Jennifer Rosenberg

Gail Himrod, Sandy Donovan

Linda Moneymaker, Mary Ann Welsch, Beth Alauf

Randy Eichen, Lee Mack, George Arno

Margaret Hall

Katie McGovern, Susan Delaney, Vicki Barbero

Sarah Prestipino, Glenda Kirby, Kathy Newcomb, Joyce Pilewski

Karen Syckes, Monica Converse, Marty Aaron, Susan Thomas

Karen Eichen

Leah Johnson, Edie Brown

SandhillSeen Art Exhibition

Hastings Gallery

Sandhills Community College

Thursday, June 4, 2026

Photographs by Diane McKay

Eleanor Gallagher

Kathleen Petz

Kim Kaplan

Sunyong Bassford

Cathy Mannuci, Gianna, Vivian & Grace Polnak

Beverly Lawson

Jean Frost

Kris Johnson

Edward Butler

Louis Simpson

Paul Haigh

Anne Marie Venezio

July PineNeedler

Across

1. Soft cheese from Greece

5. Computer memory units

10. Hook

14. Russian Marx

15. Wobbly

16. Land measurement

17. Location

18. Multi-colored rock

19. Business wear

20. Picnic drink

22. Fling

23. Furniture wood

24. N.C .time zone

26. Insert

27. Language for the deaf, for short

30. Lavish party

33. Garden tool

35. Stylish

37. Napkins, plates, etc.

41. France and Germany river

42. Luau dish

43. Slant

45. Slopes

49. Wound reminder

50. Western Athletic Conference

51. Bark in pain

53. Whichever

54. Turf

57. Second mo.

59. Hearing organ

61. Above

63. Forks and knives

68. Type of car

69. Wide

70. Go to the polls

72. Allege

73. Irregular

74. Pros

75. Office furniture

76. Organic compound

77. Run Down

1. Farm credit administration (abbr.)

2. English title

3. Very tall plant

4. “Remember the __”

5. Afghan, for one

6. Exercise with poses

7. Frog’s cousin

8. Lauder, of cosmtics

9. Visit

10. Audible shock

11. Sporty car brand

12. Chicken preparation

13. Gave a lavish party

21. Lout

22. Pack away

25. That girl

27. Cooler machines, for short

28. Thick carpet

29. Fibber

31. Record

32. Black

34. Dines

36. Animal stomach

38. Miller _____

39. Costa __

40. Zeal

44. Sample

46. Bonkers

47. Chest, or cream

48. Svelte

52. Ma’s partner

54. Potato, macaroni, chef’s, etc

55. Charcuterie item

56. Vaulted ceilings

58. Sticky weeds

Sudoku:

60. Foe

62. Branch in the road

64. Honk

65. Relive

66. South of the border crazy 67. Tier

69. Spelling contest

Dir.

By EmilEE P hilliPs

Summer Swarms

The worst kind of fan club

“Get them off me!” I yelled, sprinting for safety, flailing my arms like I was trying to take flight. I slapped at my legs, my arms, the back of my neck as I ran, the house looming ahead like a sanctuary. I burst inside with the urgency of someone being chased by bloodthirsty animals — which, in a way, I was.

This didn’t happen just once. To be honest, it’s less of an isolated incident and more of a seasonal tradition.

Don’t get me wrong, I love summer. I love the long, golden evenings that stretch on forever, the kind where the sun takes its sweet time setting and ice cream is accepted as a daily treat. I love the heat, the way it settles into your bones and relaxes you like a sauna. I love that you can wear a sundress almost daily. I’ve even made peace with the humidity — we have an understanding, a truce of sorts, where I tolerate it in exchange for everything else summer brings me.

But the mosquitoes. Ugh! The pesky little insects may as well be my own personal groupies because they flock to me the second I step outside. They’re buzzing around as if they want to join my inner circle and clinging to me like I’m their ticket to fame and fortune. It’s not even flattering. If they’re my groupies, they’re the kind that show up uninvited, scream in my ear like banshees and take a piece of me home as a souvenir.

I can’t even vent about it properly because no one else in my family is part of the all-you-can-eat buffet the way I am. It’s like they’re behind some kind of a forcefield while I’m out there

taking hits for the entire bloodline. You’re welcome, by the way.

My mother used to say it’s because I’m sweet, but I doubt their microscopic brains are thinking logically. And even if they were, what would they say? “You have notes of jasmine and poor decision-making?”

I’ve tried everything to get rid of them. I’ve tried eating copious amounts of garlic, which only seemed to work on other humans. I’ve kept citronella close by, which I’m convinced is just an old wives’ tale. It’s really aromatherapy in bug form. I’ve tried wearing long sleeves, which only made me sweatier and impaired my ability to scratch the itch. Even DEET, which should have acted as my personal security detail, has failed me on more than one occasion.

I’ve tried tackling the source. I’ve ensured my yard is free of standing water. I’ve planted all the usual pest-repelling plants. At this point, I’m convinced pine straw is some kind of breeding ground for genetically-engineered super mosquitoes, which basically means as long as I live here, I’m screwed.

They say scratching makes it worse, but I don’t have the selfcontrol to just sit there with the itch taunting me. Sometimes the bites swell up so big it looks like I’ve contracted an old-timey illness frontier doctors used to treat with a salve made out of lard and “healing leaves.”

Years of my life have been occupied by scratching. It adds up, you know. All I ask is a little peace out of doors without feeling like my fan club is sucking enough of my blood to make a clone. I love summer, I just wish it didn’t love me back quite so much. PS

Emilee Phillips manages Pinestraw’s social media.

At St. Joseph of the Pines, joining our Life Plan Community means living fully—with purpose, connection and joy. Whether music, fitness or connecting with friends is your passion, we celebrate every part of your journey and encourage you to grow, contribute and thrive! Reach

At St. Joseph of the Pines, joining our Life Plan Community means living fully—with purpose, connection and joy. Whether music, fitness or connecting with friends is your passion, we celebrate every part of your journey and encourage you to grow, contribute and thrive!

Scan the code or call 910-246-1023 to schedule your personal visit with St. Joseph of the Pines in Southern Pines today!

Scan the code or call 910-246-1023 to schedule your personal visit with St. Joseph of the Pines in Southern Pines today!