into a taxi stand where about the most raucous thing that ever happened was a game of checkers — First Friday now fills the space six evenings a year with music echoing off the adjacent buildings, families, strollers, food, beer and the odd character or two dancing with a sweat-soaked towel and a water jug. It’s a gathering free for all and welcoming to any, and it’s brought in some of the finest up-and-coming musicians the Sandhills has seen since swing bands from New York’s Rainbow Room swayed in the old Dunes Club. One of the first things Henry and Moubry did was recruit Anthony Parks, the owner of The Ice Cream Parlor. “I was in El Vaquero one night and Anthony was in there, and I threw out the idea to him,” says Moubry. Parks, a live music devotee with a now-quiescent band of his own — Dirt Road Senate — had moved back to Southern Pines from Greensboro in 2002. He was all in. The trio eventually would become a quartet when Mike Murphy, owner of an eponymous insurance agency, moved to Southern Pines from Raleigh in 2010. “When this event brought all these people together I said, man, I need to be a part of that,” says Murphy. “This town is beautiful because people volunteer their time,” says Parks. “I learned quickly when I got back here, if you get the ball rolling and get the right people there, things can happen.” They happened quickly. Frank Quis, a former mayor of Southern Pines, and Moubry had a business relationship, and Quis owned the vacant lot. He rented it to the trio for $1. Parks had been in the restaurant business in Greensboro and knew the folks at Natty Greene’s Brewing Company. Voila, there was beer. “Nobody ever said, ‘You can’t do that,’” says Moubry. “We had no dams in the waterway. All of a sudden it was May and we were having a party.”
“We wanted it family friendly because we all had families,” says Moubry. “Anthony has two children. Michael has three. I had two at the time. I’d like to be able to hang out in the community, listen to some music, be outside in town and take the kids.” The beginnings were, well, humble. “The first year we really didn’t quite know what we were doing,” says Parks. “It looked like a yard sale out there. We had a kids’ inflatable pool with floating toys in it. A bunch of cheap plastic Hula hoops. Bubble wands that we just kind of threw all over the grass. We didn’t have a stage so the band would set up on the concrete in full sun. The second event, I went to Big Lots and bought this big pop-up tent. Before the band even showed up, the wind had destroyed it. The very first events just looked like backyard barbecue parties.” Henry designed the logo and printed posters. “We had no idea if five people would show up or a thousand people,” he says. Moubry’s former trucking business delivered the Moore County phone books published by The Pilot. They swapped out the delivery fee for advertising. “We were bartering in the early days,” says Moubry. “The first one we didn’t even have the street closed off. I remember going down to McDonald Brothers and getting some of that silt fencing in rolls. I went down and bought however many linear feet it took to cover the entire perimeter of the grass area. By the third or fourth one, we knew we had to close the street. By the sixth one, it had grown 100 percent.” Bringing in out-of-town acts was something of a transition, too — for everyone. “This one guy pulled up with a surfboard on top of his car because their next gig was in Wilmington,” says Moubry. “The Tsunami Wave Riders was the name of that band. They pull up to this piece of grass with this dinky looking tent and they’re like, ‘Come on, we’re better than this.’ And, I guarantee you, 99 percent of the time, at the end of the night, they’re like, ‘That was the most fun we’ve ever had.’ Kids running around and balloons and family. It’s just community. But, when they pull up at 3 o’clock it’s like, ‘Oh, crap, we’re getting ready to play at a carnival for ten people.’” That perception may have changed some over the years. Parks, who is largely stepping aside this year, and Henry split the booking duties for the bands, a task that, if not the checker games of the old cabbies, can be akin to three-dimensional chess. It’s not easy to find a band they want, for the dollars they have, at a time that’s as predetermined as a phase of the moon. “It’s hard to find a band that’s in the price range, hasn’t quite popped yet, is in the vicinity and willing to do it,” says Henry. “I’ve had some bands I’ve been trying to reel in for a couple years and just couldn’t work out the dates or whatever. They’re $5,000 and I call them back the next year and they’re $100,000 because they blew up on some record label.”
First Friday Season 10
May 6: Dangermuffin
June 3: The Deslondes July 1: Mipso
August 5: Parsonsfield
September 2: The Ballroom Thieves October 7: Danielle Nicole
A
t the beginning, the music was local. The McKenzie Brothers Band was the first First’s opening act. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but the plans called for more. “The most important thing about the event for me was bringing in this music that wasn’t already here, different styles, flavors of music, things that are a little jazzier, funkier, jammier,” says Parks. “Then, let a local band open up for that touring act. So, we’ve spotlighted all the folks that play music locally and given them the chance to open up for somebody who’s doing it for a career and touring the nation.” And, just as importantly to all four, it had to be a family occasion.
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May 2016P���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills