Ross owned the place — my symbiotic love affair with the inn began with my first book, Final Rounds, which I wrote holed up in a room beneath the eaves, and finally edited in the spring of 1996. The book was a surprise bestseller, prompting me — unwilling to buck tradition or tempt the fates — to follow exactly the same routine with at least three more books that followed.
C
all me a literary traditionalist. Or just a rabid fan of the charms of the homely Pine Crest. Whatever the case, in a world that’s constantly under assault from forces of change, the impression that time itself is blessedly held in abeyance at the Pine Crest, happy hostage to truely a kinder and gentler way of life — from the friendly orange cat out front to the relish tray on your dining table — is precisely the kind of thing that brings devoted patrons back season after season. The Barrett family, which purchased the beloved inn in 1961 and has faithfully maintained this gem of an inn with unwavering simplicity and impeccable fidelity, is fittingly still running the show here on the cusp of the inn’s big centennial year of life — commencing this month with a party on November 1. We at PineStraw would simply like to add our voices — and a few choice birthday images — to say thank you to the Barretts and their incomparable inn for being — in a word — such grand guardians of the finest little golf hotel in the land. Ladies and gentleman, a toast. PS
PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . November 2012
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