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September 2026

FEATURES 47 Proto-Indo-European Speakers Poem by Ross White

48 The Five Faces of O. Henry

Local artists turn paint, sequin and ephemera into portraits of William Sydney Porter

By Joi Floyd

54 Storytellers

For decades, ArtStock Studio Tour has connected artists with the greater Greensboro community By Ross Howell Jr.

60 A Portrait of O. Henry

The mysterious master of short stories and tall tales By Cynthia Adams

64 A Golden Opportunity

A once-vacant Fisher Park home overflows with life and color By Cassie Bustamante

79 September Almanac By Ashley Walshe

4 O.Henry

DEPARTMENTS 8 Chaos Theory By Cassie Bustamante 12 Simple Life By Jim Dodson 14 Sazerac 19 Tea Leaf Astrologer By Zora Stellanova 21 Life’s Funny By Maria Johnson 25 Omnivorous Reader By Jim Moriarty 29 State of Mind By Tommy Tomlinson 33 Home Grown By Cynthia Adams 37 Pleasures of Life Dept. By Ed Hines 41 Birdwatch By Susan Campbell 43 Wandering Billy By Billy Ingram 98 Outings 107 GreenScene 112 O.Henry Ending By Joi Floyd Cover Art by Christina Hill Photograph this page by Betsy Blake

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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M A G A Z I N E

Volume 16, No. 9 “I have a fancy that every city has a voice.” www.ohenrymag.com PUBLISHER

SKIP THE RUNAROUND. TALK TO THE GUYS YOU CAN TRUST.

David Woronoff david@thepilot.com Andie Rose, Creative Director andiesouthernpines@gmail.com Cassie Bustamante, Editor cassie@ohenrymag.com Joi Floyd, Assistant Editor joi@ohenrymag.com Jim Dodson, Editor at Large jwdauthor@gmail.com Keith Borshak, Senior Designer Miranda Glyder, Senior Designer CONTRIBUTING EDITORS

Cynthia Adams, David Claude Bailey, Maria Johnson CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Betsy Blake, Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Bert VanderVeen, Mark Wagoner CONTRIBUTORS

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Lisa Allen 336.210.6921 • lisa@ohenrymag.com Amy Grove 336.456.0827 • amy@ohenrymag.com Brad Beard, Graphic Designer Jennifer Bunting, Advertising Coordinator

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Jack Andrews, Frank Daniels III, David Woronoff In memoriam Frank Daniels Jr. © Copyright 2026. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. O.Henry Magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

6 O.Henry

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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CHAOS THEORY

Always the Chorus Girl Never the star

By Cassie Bustamante

Some of my favorite childhood memories are

rooted within the walls of my local Blockbuster, where my older brother, Dana, and I would cruise through the aisles, hoping the hot new release we wanted would be waiting on its shelf. When it wasn’t, I’d hit my second-favorite section: musicals. My mom had me hooked on the classics — My Fair Lady, A Chorus Line and anything with the adorably-dimpled Shirley Temple. One of my favorites was Gigi, starring the exquisite Leslie Caron. Of course, I now realize it’s a highly problematic story about grooming a coltish teenage girl to become a much older man’s mistress. French accents can make anything seem romantic. An avid musical theater fan, I imagined I’d one day be a star, as elegant as Caron or Audrey Hepburn. Dear reader, I did not become that girl. Not even close. Over the years, I’ve had to admit that I will never be a star of stage, screen or television. Nor a chanteuse, though I can carry a tune. But, just before high school, my mother introduces me to Bye Bye Birdie, a film in which the beautiful Ann-Margret stars as Kim McAfee. Kim is a high school senior who’s just been pinned by Hugo but is randomly chosen to plant “One Last Kiss” on Elvisinspired rocker Conrad Birdie before he deploys with the Army. In that film, I finally see the role I was born for. I know what you’re thinking — “She’s no Kim McAfee.” And you’re right. But her hyper-enthusiastic brunette of a best friend, Ursula Merkle? That’s more like it.

8 O.Henry

It just so happens that the summer before my freshman year of high school, we spy a casting call in our small-town paper for a local theater production of, you guessed it, Bye Bye Birdie, just a couple towns over. For days, I practice Ursula’s lines in my bedroom mirror and work on the vocals to “We Go Together” from Grease because the music has a similar vibe. Plus, I already know that song well. So well, in fact, that I’m feeling cocky and even sprinkle in a little movement. It’s no Jennifer Beals Flashdance moment, but it’ll do. Audition day arrives and my mom and I are piled into a room with all the other hopeful stage actors. We’ll all be trying out in front of everyone else. A little nerve-racking, for sure, but if you can’t do that, what business do you have performing for a packed house? While I wait for my name to be called, I watch and cheer politely for everyone else as anticipation builds, my heart racing and my hands clammy. “Tricia,” the director, Mark, calls. A young woman (and, yes, she’s over 18) walks confidently to the stage, waving at the director with a glint in her dark-brown eyes. It’s clear that she’s worked with this director before — their exchange of glances seems just a little chummy to me. “And what role are you auditioning for? “Ursula,” she says. Her chestnut tresses bounce with the cocky bob of her head. She already knows this part is hers. And, truly, she’s really good. My palms start sweating something fierce as uncertainty creeps in. I take a deep, calming breath. My turn arrives. I introduce myself and am given the same lines that Tricia has already read. The scene is one where Ursula is fan-girling for all she’s worth to Conrad Birdie. I begin, reciting the lines I know so well, then drop to my knees, clutching my heart as I say, “Speak to us, oh beautiful one, tell us how you make that glorious sound, that even now an anticipation of it has reduced me to a snarling, raging, panting, jungle beast!” The Art & Soul of Greensboro

CHAOS THEORY

In that brief moment, I am Ursula. I have just owned that part. Mark exchanges knowing looks with his colleagues. My mom is beaming in her seat, her hazel eyes gleaming. Someone else notices, too — Tricia. She stalks over to the director’s table and leans in toward Mark, whispering. His head, covered in dark-brown curls, nods along. And before I can say, “We love you Conrad,” Tricia is back on stage, having been given a second chance and reading yet another Ursula scene. I look at my mom and panic: “What do I do? Do I ask if I can go again, too?” No, I decide. I know that I’ve given my best. And, at 14, I’ve already dealt with my fair share of mean girls. My mom has taught me exactly how to handle them: Do not let them get under your skin. Well, more like, don’t let them see that they’ve gotten under your skin. And never stoop to their level. A few days later, back at home, our hunter-green kitchen telephone rings and Mom picks up. She hands it to me while putting her hand over the receiver: “It’s Mark!” Still holding onto hope, I stretch the cord as far as I can and lean on the hallway wall, out of my family’s earshot. “Your audition was really something,” Mark says, “and we’d love to have you in the chorus. In fact, we want to give you several speaking lines.” Holding back tears, I accept the small part. I show up at the first rehearsal, head held high, knowing that I made a fullygrown woman sweat it out and worry that she was going to lose her part to a child. Over the course of the next several weeks, I shimmy, shake and belt out tunes along with a handful of other chorus teens who become close friends. Tricia, with an air of her “you-know-what doesn’t stink,” keeps her distance from our lowly chorus crew. Sure, she got to play Ursula, but I learned something that’s stuck with me: Sometimes, it’s not about who you know, but how well you know yourself. OH Cassie Bustamante is editor of O.Henry magazine. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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O.Henry 9

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O.Henry 11

SIMPLE LIFE

Sweet September Lessons By Jim Dodson

During the years

we lived on the coast of Maine, I was always amused by the visible relief and joy locals expressed over the arrival of September. Every year like clockwork, it marks the departure of summer tourists in Maine when tens of thousands of vacationers pack up and head home to the lower 48, leaving Maine bank accounts flush and pockets of local merchants brimming with cash. With Labor Day weekend done and dusted, the annual sight of the Maine Turnpike backed up for 25 miles — folks “from away” creeping through the southbound tolls in vehicles loaded down with suitcases, bicycles and kayaks — is a sign of liberation to many Mainers. Within days of the annual exodus, the price of the average shore dinner drops by at least 30%, town traffic returns to its sleepy pace, and locals begin to venture out from their hiding places to shop and greet neighbors and friends they haven’t seen since Memorial Day. Up on our forested hill west of town, I had my own way of welcoming September. Afternoons were visibly shorter and the abundant wildlife around us — like their counterparts in town — became much more visible and active. A herd of white-tailed deer and a lady porcupine that terrified our dogs never failed to waddle into my garden, finishing off my daylilies, hosta plants and ostrich ferns. And almost every time I walked down our long, gravel lane to pick up the mail, a gorgeous ring-necked pheasant or a congregation of wild turkeys would cross my path, unconcerned by my presence in our peaceable September kingdom. Down here in North Carolina, the autumnal equinox that arrives around September 22 is a far more subtle affair, as white bucks and seersucker are put away even before the intense heat of summer begins to fade. Swimming pools close for the year, and the young ones — to mom’s delight — go back to school while the older kids trek off to college.

12 O.Henry

Last September, a former university suite-mate passing through town invited me for coffee. His grandson was headed off to college. With a smile, he reminded me of my chaotic start as a freshman at East Carolina in 1971. It briefly became something of a freshman dorm legend. My folks dropped me off at my College Hill dorm with a window fan, my bicycle and 50 bucks for the student dining program. The first thing I did was hop on my bike and follow a winding country road to New Bern, mesmerized by the flat green landscape of eastern North Carolina. I had no idea that it was a 40-mile trip each way, however, and it wore me out like an old shoe. As a result, I slept through the first day of mandatory freshman orientation. A few days later, I foolishly allowed new friends in the dorm to convince me to try out for the school’s club football team. There was a rumor that incoming football coach Sonny Randle was looking to find a handful of walk-ons to use as practice squad dummies. In a galaxy long ago and far away (junior high days), I’d been the starting cornerback on a city-league championship team. Foolish sports dreams die hard. Not 10 minutes into tryouts, I stepped on a rubber kicking tee and tore the cartilage in my right knee. One of Randle’s highly regarded recruits on an adjacent practice field helped me hobble to the fieldhouse. His name was Danny Kepley. The coaches were already taking notice of him. We chatted a bit and he wished me well. I returned to school on crutches after Labor Day, just in time to commit my third stupid act that faraway September. A pair of friends from back home and I met a trio of cute girls at Greenville’s (in)famous Elbow Room that Friday night, and they invited us to a party down the road in Little Washington. Freshman couldn’t have cars at school in those days, but these girls had a new VW Bug because they were sophomores. On the way to Little Washington, our “dates” demanded beer. So, we purchased a couple six-packs and wound up at a gorgeous house overlooking the Pamlico River. My date’s name was Trisha. Suspiciously, her parents, who owned the home, The Art & Soul of Greensboro

ILLUSTRATION BY GERRY O’NEILL

From freshman tomfoolery

SIMPLE LIFE

were away. As my buddies and their dates wandered off to other parts of the house, Trisha and I settled on the couch, my sore leg propped up, to watch the Miss America Pageant. Suddenly, Trisha’s annoying little brother appeared, announcing, “Trisha, Jerry is outside. And he’s really mad!” Jerry turned out to be Trisha’s boyfriend. She hadn’t lied. She was indeed a sophomore — in high school. Jerry had brought along half a dozen beer-buzzed pals to defend his girlfriend’s blemished honor. Having realized our horrible mistake, I hobbled out on crutches, hoping to smooth things over. The negotiations did not go well and took a worrying turn when Jerry snapped the antenna of Trisha’s VW Bug and waved it at me. At that point, my college buddies appeared and Trisha burst into tears, wailing that her daddy was going to murder her when he got home. Mercifully, a police car rolled up. When the officer learned that we were just a trio of stupid college freshmen, he ordered us into his car, probably saving us from getting murdered. He drove us to the edge of town and put us out. It was a nice September night and only 23 miles back to campus. We walked for several hours until the sun began to come up. Somewhere after sunrise, a drunk in a weaving Cadillac picked us up and dropped us at the bottom of College Hill. I got back to my dorm as my new roommate was heading out for breakfast. He wondered where I’d been all night.

“Learning I’m not a good party guy,” I said. A few days later, I swore off beer, joined the school newspaper and soon became The Fountainhead’s columnist and features editor. Forty years later, on another memorable September Southern evening, I was about to give a fundraising speech at Wayne Community College in Goldsboro, when my host said, “There’s a guy who wants to say hello to you.” It was Danny Kepley. During his playing years at ECU, Danny became an All-American linebacker known for crushing tackles, earning the nickname “Captain Crunch.” Drafted by the Dallas Cowboys, Danny chose to join the Edmonton Eskimos of the Canadian Football League and went on to lead them to six Grey Cup championships as MVP of the league. I asked him if he remembered helping a foolish fellow freshman off the practice field way back when. “I think so,” he replied, pointing out that his memory was a bit foggy from a career of issuing crushing hits. “What I remember most is your stories in the school paper. I liked them. And now, you are a famous sportswriter about golf.” And then Captain Crunch added with a smile, “So, we both did kinda OK, I guess.” “Yes, we did,” I agreed. OH Jim Dodson is founding editor of O.Henry.

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry 13

SAZERAC It’s easy to underestimate 17-year-old athlete Abe Kaplan. He’s not a big kid. Cerebral palsy limits the use of his right hand and leg. By the age of 13, he’d tried karate, soccer, flag football and horseback riding. Then his parents, Eric and Karen, encouraged him to try a class at the Greensboro Fencing Academy — and something clicked. “Abe’s mom took him to an introductory class on Saturday morning and he asked her to take him back for another that afternoon,” Eric says with a laugh. Within months of taking up the sport, Abe was winning tournaments against competitors who had no disabilities. While he understood that his disability would hold him back in able-bodied competition, he was reluctant to transition to para fencing, an adaptive form of fencing for athletes with physical impairments.

Window to the Past

In 2023, Abe and his dad were visiting Washington, D.C., when they had the opportunity to attend a para fencing tournament. It was not what they’d expected. “If you haven’t seen it, you think, ‘Oh, it’s just disabled fencing,’” Abe says. “But these people were athletes — strong, fast,” Eric comments. A month later, the Kaplans were invited to Florida for a weekend training camp led by a para fencing coach for the U.S. team. After more months of training with national coaches in Atlanta, Abe flew with his father to his first competition in Warsaw, Poland. The learning curve was steep. “Especially when you’re 14 years old and fencing grown men,” Eric explains. Now, after three more years of training and international competition, Abe has advanced his world ranking. He could earn a spot on the team that will compete in the Los Angeles Paralympic Games in 2028. He fences three hours a day, six days a week. He’s lithe as a panther and just as quick. I wouldn’t underestimate Abe Kaplan. — Ross Howell Jr.

14 O.Henry

Thomas Built school buses are an iconic part of the American school experience. Built and manufactured in High Point since 1936, when Perley A. Thomas swapped cars for buses, these unmistakable vehicles have carried generations of students. Painted an iconic golden-yellow — now named National School Bus Glossy Yellow, according to Canada and the U.S. — they’re easy to spot but much harder to catch once they’re on the move, especially if you’re a sleepyhead running a minute or two late. After all, those wheels were made for rolling, so that’s just what they’ll do.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

PHOTOGRAPHY COURTESY OF HIGH POINT HISTORICAL SOCIETY, HIGH POINT, N.C.

En garde!

PHOTOGRAPHY COURTESY OF SERGE TIMACHEFF/USA FENCING

"A spirited forum of Gate City food, drink, history, art, events, rumors and eccentrics worthy of our famous namesake"

SAZERAC

Unsolicited Advice They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but we’d like to think our morning drink plays a major role in that as well. Your choice of morning bevvy has just as much significance as your stack of pancakes. Some reach for caffeine while others prefer something milder. Either way, we bet your sip choice says a lot about who you are as a person. If a piping hot mug of salubrious tea is what shakes the slumber out of your eyes, then we’re going to guess your yoga set matches. While you probably flaunt a healthy heart, we can’t help but think that your daily tea craving is just for show. Though, with a gut as clean as yours, who cares what others think? You’re healthy and you know it, so toot that health horn as loud as you want. For those addicted to the bitter taste of coffee, we’re almost certain you’re the backbone of our society. From unexpected deadlines to awkward conversations, there’s nothing they can throw at you that you can’t handle after you’ve indulged in your morning cup of joe. We bet your planner is packed to the brim and we know that you will check off every last one of those tasks — but first, coffee. Energy drinks? More like pure rocket fuel. Whatever problems our carbonated connoisseurs are faced with in the morning, we know it won’t stand a chance against them and their can of spark. With an overly fizzy flavor and enough sugar to match a jumbo bag of Skittles, only the ones committed to utilizing every second of the day are among this group. Tea drinkers fear you and coffee lovers commend you — but you’re probably too jumpy on your jitter juice to notice.

Indie Scene From junk to treasure: Brett Ingram — UNCG graduate, director of two documentary features (Monster Road and Rocaterrania) and author of novel The Secret World of Renaldo Kuhler — has recently added tactile artist to his growing list of accomplishments, giving life to objects that would otherwise be tossed. And, what better way to showcase Ingram, Brett. Digital-to-Analog his love for salvaged parts than Converter. 2019–26. Mixed Media, through assemblage art, a 3D 19" x 14" x 8". medium that blends disparate parts, obsolete everyday objects and scraps into sculptural works. Ingram sources his materials almost exclusively from the world around him. “Largely, I get stuff off of the street when people put it out there to be picked up by the city,” he says. His pieces often feature analog items including microphones, cameras, gears, lenses and other mechanical components. If it once had a motor or moving parts, chances are Ingram can breathe new creative life into it. While analog technology has experienced a resurgence in recent years, Ingram never abandoned his appreciation for it. In fact, the shift toward digital equipment became an unexpected advantage. “I could find lenses that are obsolete and could take them apart and use them in my art,” he says. What many considered outdated became the building blocks of his artistic vision. From Kernersville news reporter to high school physics teacher to author, he has made use of his many skills throughout the years. So, how did he discover assemblage art? For Ingram, 2020’s COVID-19 isolation wasn’t just a boredom fest, it sparked some newfound creativity. “At one point, I had done stop-motion animation. I made the puppets out of found objects and that got me into that aesthetic.” He stopped making films, but kept on amassing parts and soon his art form was born. Ingram doesn’t see assemblage art as making do with less, he sees it as making possibilities where others see waste. His approach shows that limitations inspire innovation and creativity can grow when resources are scarce. “I used to teach my students that a lot of the time what you end up doing is driven by the obstacles that you have to overcome.” Though Ingram’s first ever solo exhibition at The Center for Visual Arts passed by earlier this year, you can still find pieces of his 3D art, his short documentaries and keep up with his works through his website, brettingram.org.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry 15

SAZERAC

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The other day I decided to take a walk. After spending the day comparing my life to that of other people my age — those who had moved out of state, started new chapters or seemed to have everything figured out — I know it’s time to shut off my overthinking brain and get some fresh air at Country Park. As soon as I step foot on the path, that familiar Carolina breeze runs through my hair and the barks of excited pups greeting each other in the dog park can be heard from a mile away — as if a simple butt sniff greeting isn’t enough. A little girl, so captivated by the pedal boats that she isn’t watching where she was going, wanders right into my path. We bump into each other. “Oh, excuse me. Sorry ma’am,” she says as she picks up speed. A man and his dog lie in the dirt near the lake, guarded by a family of ducks. The ducks take turns splashing in the lake but ultimately return back to their post, protecting the man and his dog from the dangers of the lily pads. That’s when it hits me: I wouldn’t have my life any other way. I have a Tar Heel soul in need of that refreshing North Carolina air — even if it is hot and humid. Just then, that curious little girl and her parents make their way back from the pedal boat station. They’re soaking wet from head to toe, but the little girl flashes a toothy grin. Her mother playfully scolds her father for agreeing to let her in the driver’s seat. As they walk by, I catch a glimpse of the words on the mother’s shirt, “North Freaking Carolina.” I can’t help but smile. Yes ma’am, indeed it is. — Joi Floyd

16 O.Henry

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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18 O.Henry

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TEA LEAF ASTROLOGER

VIRGO (August 23 – September 22)

PARADE

of HOMES

We all know you’re good at putting things in tidy little boxes. But not everything is meant to fit. Let things get a bit messy this month. The world won’t end. In fact, with the new moon in your sign on Sept. 10, get ready for a system reboot sure to reveal a higher perspective. Control is an illusion. Pump the breaks on the color-coded spreadsheets and take inventory on what really matters. You’ll be delighted by an unexpected shift of priorities.

Tea leaf “fortunes” for the rest of you: Libra (September 23 – October 22) Take the back roads.

Scorpio (October 23 – November 21) It’s time to get your groove back.

Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21) Loosen your grip, darling.

Capricorn (December 22 – January 19) Aquarius (January 20 – February 18)

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October 3-4 & 10-11

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Open Houses & Virtual Tours

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Keep them guessing.

Step away from your comfort zone. Experiment with box breathing.

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Whether Dreaming, Planning, Building or Remodeling

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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 Art & Soul of Greensboro

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LIFE’S FUNNY

Increasingly Relevant — and Revenant Rising star Murphy Campbell channels the spirit and music of days gone by

By Maria Johnson

Murphy Campbell sits in a Greensboro cof-

PHOTOGRAPH BY TIMOTHY DUFFY

feehouse, sips herbal iced tea, and laughs knowingly at a question about her Instagram handle, @murphydoesnotmatter.

Yeah, she explains with a grin, she created the account when she was 14, trying to be edgy and self-deprecating, hoping to fit in at Weaver Academy, Greensboro’s arts magnet high school. She scrolls through her phone and finds a picture of herself from those days. Dark clothes and lots of eye make-up. Now on the eve of her 20th birthday, she has ditched the somber look, and she favors high-neck, vintage clothes that hark to the era of her art. She carries herself with the confidence of who she is: a youthful force on the old-timey music scene. So much has happened in the last year. Last September, she turned loose her first recordings, a selftitled, four-track, extended-play release featuring well-known area musicians. In April, she was quoted in Rolling Stone magazine after she kicked up a social media fuss about her voice and music being impersonated, poorly, by AI robots on major streaming services. In May, the real Murphy finished her first full-length album, Revenant, based on newly-discovered ballads sung by her ancestors and others in the North Carolina mountains. The album and an accompanying documentary — shot by the same team that did My Music with Rhiannon Giddens for PBS in 2023 — are expected to debut soon. The double-barreled project landed her on the cover of Down the Road, an annual journal for lovers of Western North Carolina music. The same month, she climbed on stage at the Blue Ridge Music Center in Galax, Va., as a guest on WFDD-FM’s The Martha Bassett Show, a highly acclaimed roots music show with a worldwide following on YouTube.

The gigs just kept on coming. Early this month, she will perform at the Earl Scruggs Music Festival in Mill Spring, a gathering headlined by The Avett Brothers, Del McCoury Band and banjo virtuoso Béla Fleck. Midmonth, she will play for the first time at the N.C. Folk Festival in Greensboro, a few miles from her home in the northwest corner of Guilford County. She will appear — as the last act, on the last day — in the Jan Van Dyke Performance Space, a cozy cavern in the Greensboro Cultural Center. She asked the organizers for a slot because she believes that more local artists should be included in the festival. Murphy has never been one to shy away from what she wants. As a grade-schooler, she changed her name after learning that her mother almost named her for a relative who died after being attacked by a pet spider monkey. Undeterred by the monkey-borne legacy, the youngster announced that henceforth she would be known as Murphy. “I just resonated with that,” she says. A few years later, she moseyed into her older brother’s room — he’d just left for college — picked up his banjo and started noodling. She was inspired to do more after visiting her mother’s family in mountainous Bakersville, where she saw an older woman playing a banjo on the street. “I’d never seen a woman playing clawhammer,” she says, referring to a technique of picking. “I really wanted to do that.” Murphy taught herself clawhammer and became a regular at rural house jams and flat-footing meet-ups in North Carolina and Virginia, where people gathered to pick, stomp and trill the night away. She had found her music and her people in a world very different from what she encountered in school, where she studied recording engineering. “I got so sick of the concept of digital media and digital recording, how easy it is to alter it,” she says. “It just felt so disingenuous in a lot of ways . . . how much we lie to people’s ears.

LIFE’S FUNNY

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You can’t do that with old-timey music. It is what it is.” To get herself through school days, she clamped on headphones as big as biscuits and listened to recordings of Walkertown banjoist and guitarist Riley Baugus, whose picking was featured in Cold Mountain, a 2003 movie based on Charles Frazier’s best-selling novel set in North Carolina. Later, a mutual friend introduced her to the burly, bearded Baugus, who favors bib overalls. “I told him, ‘You’re like my Taylor Swift,’” she says, laughing. “He references that a lot.” Baugus and his longtime friend, Stokes County singer-songwriter Laurelyn Dossett, took the youngster under their wings. “Without them, nothing I’ve done in this past year would have happened,” she says. Dossett and Baugus encouraged Murphy to run with her latest project, which she stumbled upon a year ago. As Murphy tells it, she was at home, celebrating her birthday in her own way — by taking a hike then reading a PDF of southern Appalachian ballads collected more than a century ago. The author, an English folklorist named Cecil Sharp, scoured the mountains from 1916 to 1918, collecting ballads that he cataloged by date. For fun, Murphy turned to her birthdate in 1918 to see what Sharp had unearthed that day. She was shocked to see that he had harvested songs from Mitchell County, some coming from her kin four or five generations back. One distant relative, Julie Boone, contributed 40 ballads. Murphy’s creative senses tingled. What if she resurrected some of those long-forgotten ballads, many of which were bluesy tunes passed along by formerly enslaved people in the community known locally as Egypt Town. A week later, Murphy drove to her maternal great-grandparents’ graves, sat on their plots and pondered what to do next. They had been part of a gospel quartet, and Murphy thought about recording in their spiritual home, Rebels Creek Baptist

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

LIFE’S FUNNY

Church, but the church had been damaged by Hurricane Helene’s flooding. A nearby house of worship, Kona Church, was high and dry, however. Murphy decided that could work. On the drive home, a word came to her: revenant. She swears over her herbal iced tea that she didn’t know what “revenant” meant. She looked it up when she got home; it’s a ghost who comes back to deliver a warning to the living. Murphy took that to mean that she’d better high tail it to a microphone and record the ballads once sung by Julie Boone and her contemporaries. “This is for Julie,” she says. “She, ultimately, is the revenant.” A few phone calls later, Murphy secured Kona Church. After being rejected by potential investors, who balked at recording in an old church with no acoustic updates, Murphy launched a Kickstarter campaign. She asked for $15,000. She got $30,000. She drafted five guys — four musicians and a sound engineer who knows his way around traditional music — to help her record. Then she rented an Airbnb near Kona Church and cooked for everyone for a week, until the project was done. Experienced filmmakers Will and Deni McIntyre, of Hendersonville, chronicled the album-making. Murphy says the plan is to trickle out singles this fall. The full album and doc will be released in tandem, she says, hopefully before she leaves for a European tour in the spring. She’s not sure yet which recording label will handle the album, but she promises it’ll be an outfit dedicated to preserving of old music. The documentary distributor? That’s undecided, too. What about the Instagram handle? Does she plan to keep that? Definitely, she says, adding that it’s not self-deprecating any more; it’s ironic. “I know I’m doing things that do matter,” she says. OH Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry. Email her at ohenrymaria@ gmail.com. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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O.Henry 23

QW HAPPENINGS & NEWS

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24 O.Henry

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

OMNIVOROUS READER

Seeing Spirits And the decisions that haunt us

By Jim Moriarty

Let’s dispense with the easy part. “Gram calls

photographs paper ghosts. She says they’re the only ghosts everyone can see.” So says Willamena Wester — Wills to her friends — the central character of Sarah Addison Allen’s new novel, Paper Ghosts. The real apparitions show up later. Gram is Alice Wester, the dowager of Hen Town. Nothing escapes Alice’s ability to know it or divine it in some quasimystical way. “Rewind,” the first of the novel’s three parts, takes place in 1976. Wills is a teenager, and her posse is known as The Feathers, named for their teased-to-the-max hairstyle. “By the time the bell rang, Wills had managed to get Dorothy’s feathers back in place, though she’d used so much hair spray that Dorothy was now combustible,” writes Allen. We meet Andy Smooth, the head of a traveling musical group, and Jack Vaughn, the band’s youngest member and the person Wills falls desperately in love with. “He was quoting Shakespeare again, while dancing to a song no one could hear under an umbrella when there wasn’t a storm, with his hand to her waist as if it was meant to be there.” Ratted out by one of The Feathers — with a Polaroid, of course, of the young clandestine couple — Gram is determined to keep Willamena in Hen Town and tries to buy off young Jack, who accepts the money as a get-out-of-town stake, then tries to convince Wills to go with him. “And I lie awake at night thinking about a beautiful girl I just met whose grandmother has made her believe that she can only exist here, that she will vanish like magic if she steps outside of this place, so she’s afraid to leave. And I can’t stay,” says Jack. A tussle ensues in Gram’s “redbrick, federal-style home . . . three stories tall and imposing with more windows to see what was going on than any other house in town.” Jack tumbles down a flight of stairs — perhaps or perhaps not helped along by Gram — and dies. He’s buried in the basement but his ghost remains. And so does Wills. We “Fast Forward” in part two, and Wills, who married (and outlived) the man she was supposed to marry before Jack came along, has remained in Wester House and, in The Art & Soul of Greensboro

almost every respect, morphed into her grandmother. Her nickname, to the living, has morphed, too, into Mim. At the door are her widower son, Tug (Terrance), and her granddaughter Bailey, who are moving in. “‘You’re a remarkable woman, Wills, but even you can’t open a door without turning the knob first,’ she heard Jack say from behind her.” Tug gives Bailey the tour. “For the next half hour, the presence in the house followed them as Tug made sure Bailey knew every nook and cranny, most of it off-limits due to what he called the Wester Rules,” writes Allen. “The Wester Rules weren’t actually his rules. They were Mim’s. And they weren’t made up on the spot, either. They’d been around for a long time.” Those rules included no visitors, no music and a double-lock on the basement door. Bailey, it turns out, can see Jack if Jack wants to be seen. “To her astonishment there was now a handsome young man standing next to the piano. He looked like someone from decades ago with his dark hair touching his shoulders and a shaggy mustache shaped like a horseshoe. His jeans had bell bottoms so long they touched the floor, and the snaps of his shirt were undone nearly to low-rise at this hips. There was a yellow rose pinned to the wide collar. He seemed so happy to see her that he didn’t know what to say. Or maybe he was just happy for her to finally see him.” Mim becomes as protective of Bailey as her grandmother had been of her, a choice that leads to a different kind of disaster when Bailey is accosted, not by a true love like Jack, but by a thug of a man named Clutch, which calls for a different kind of accident altogether. Let’s just say, Clutch gets his — another mystery solved in the end. “I know I made you dependent on only me and your father for companionship, but I thought it was the one thing that would keep you safe until you could make your own decisions,” says Mim. “But what really happened was you grew up desperate to O.Henry 25

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

OMNIVOROUS READER

feel connection, which led you to Clutch. If I had just told you this story of the man I fell in love with, instead of imposing on you something you didn’t understand, things would have ended differently.” Allen writes in the opening of her epilogue, “Once upon a time, there was a family of witches. But witches, it turns out, are sometimes only women who have been hurt, and are determined not to be again.” The toing and froing through the generations can get a bit confusing at times, but the trip is worth it. The great fiction writer Raymond Chandler once counseled others to try to put three things on every page that mean something to you as a writer. A sentence, a description, maybe just a word. The cumulative effect will be quality. Allen’s ability to turn a phrase is a fine example of it. Of Jack: “It was such a vulnerable moment, his guard down, loneliness beaming through the cracks.” Of Mrs. Orr, the housekeeper: “… taking every smudge on the furniture as a personal insult . . .” On Jack: “It was Jack. Her beautiful Jack. He looked so out of place, a wildflower in a manicured garden.” On Wester House: “This was an old house and the floorboards creaked like knee joints.” On the neighborhood in Hen Town: “There was a curious element of the unseen, like if money could haunt you, it would haunt you here, where the air was as soft and cottony as a veil.” When Mim leaves the house: “People immediately got on their phones and called their neighbors, tracking her movements across town the way they might have tracked a grizzly bear that wandered out of the woods.” On Bailey: “Every time she colored her hair, she liked this moment best — looking in the mirror and seeing someone she didn’t recognize, hoping it was someone she finally wanted to be.” And so on. They were among the many little treats that made Paper Ghosts a pleasure to read. OH

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O.Henry 27

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

STATE OF MIND

Our Unique Beauty The greening of home

By Tommy Tomlinson

This year my wife and I drove to Michigan for

ILLUSTRATION BY GARY PALMER

summer vacation. (July is way cooler up there than down here.) One day we were cruising on a highway somewhere south of Mackinaw City, headed for the Upper Peninsula. We rolled through mile after mile of farmland and trees. There was no way to count every shade of green.

In some ways it felt familiar. I’ve been down similar roads all over North Carolina. But it wasn’t . . . quite . . . right, like a picture that had been run through the copier one too many times. The shades of green up there weren’t the shades of green back home. My GPS — not the one on the screen, the one in my gut — told me I was somewhere else. I would’ve known that even if I had just awakened from a Rip Van Winkle nap. It got me to thinking: What makes a landscape distinctive? And in particular, what makes North Carolina’s landscape distinctive? What are the clues that tell us where we are? I’m not really thinking about pride of place, although maybe that’s part of it. I grew up in Georgia, down on the coast. When we go back to visit, and we cross the Savannah River coming down from South Carolina, I look over at Alix and say: Ahhhh. We’re in God’s country. (Sometimes I say it if I’m the only one in the car.) But the North Carolina marsh is different than the Georgia marsh — and the South Carolina marsh, for that matter. North Carolina marshes, to me, feel smaller and more scattered. They play peek-a-boo with you as you drive down toward the coast. They even smell different. Every marsh has a salty funk — it comes from dead plants and animals decaying in the mud and washed by the tides. North Carolina’s marshes smell a little The Art & Soul of Greensboro

cleaner somehow. Maybe it just feels that way to me because I grew up near pulp mills in Georgia. Millworkers like to say it’s the smell of money. I guess that’s possible, if money smelled like rotten eggs. North Carolina beach sand is its own thing, too. The sand on the Outer Banks is what I think of as sandbox sand — tan and clean. Georgia sand is grayer and a little muddier. Florida Gulf Coast sand, down around Panama City, is sugar-white and crunches under your feet. I would not bet money on this, but part of me thinks that if you put me on one of those beaches blindfolded, my toes would be able to figure out where I was. (FYI, the Michigan beaches were nicer than I expected . . . they reminded me of North Carolina’s. Lots of rocks in the water, though.) Coming off the coast, the natural feature I think about most in North Carolina is the longleaf pine forest. The strands we have in the Sandhills and down toward Wilmington are the northern edge of the longleaf habitat (it stretches south and west in scattered spots all the way to Texas). Most of the woods we see from the highway are dark and thick. A longleaf pine forest feels like a planned community. The trees are spaced wide, giving one another room to grow. The wiregrass underneath is a tasteful carpet. That orderly design depends on fire to come through every so often — a spring cleaning of sorts. When the natural cycles line up, what’s left is astonishing. Years ago, a guide walked me a mile or so into a longleaf pine forest down in the southeast corner of the state. We were looking for Venus flytraps. You might know that a little circle down there — maybe a 75-mile radius from Wilmington — is the only place on earth where Venus flytraps grow naturally in the wild. We got to a tiny pond — no more than a big puddle, really — where

O.Henry 29

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30 O.Henry

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

STATE OF MIND

clumps of flytraps grew a few yards off the bank. Not too dry, not too wet. If all you know of flytraps is Little Shop of Horrors, you might walk right past one without ever seeing it. They’re small and close to the ground. In the wild, most of the traps are no bigger than dimes. You might also know that the tiny pond I described was probably a Carolina bay — one of thousands of shallow depressions strung along the East Coast all the way up to Delaware and New Jersey. Most of them are ovals aligned northwest to southeast. There are many scientific theories about how they came to be; the most intriguing theory is that they’re the result of a long-ago meteorite shower. Of course, those are the scientific theories. But when you’re standing next to one, surrounded by Venus flytraps, inside a longleaf pine forest that looks like it was designed by an interior decorator . . . your mind does start to wonder if North Carolina is some sort of Del Webb development for future retiring aliens. I realize, at this point, that we have wandered far afield. This started out being about what makes North Carolina’s natural splendor distinctive, and ended up being about what might make us the next Area 51. Let’s just leave it here for now: Our beauty is unique. If you’ve lived in North Carolina long, you can smell it and feel it and taste it. It doesn’t mean we’re better than everybody else — although if you want to claim that, go ahead. It just means that there are some things our bodies just know. And when we’re in North Carolina, we’re someplace special. I hope the human race is not the only one to have figured this out. OH 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.

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

HOME GROWN

Another Piece of Poundcake Please No judgment here By Cynthia Adams

The path wending through pine, oaks and

scrubby cedars from my grandmother’s house to her neighbor Mildred’s was worn smooth by heavy usage. My grandmother — “Miz Pat” to others and Mama Patty to family — would wrap a freshly baked pound cake, cookies or pie in a fresh tea towel and set off for a visit. The shortcut spared them the hazards of walking along a narrow asphalt road and creeping along the verge. In the warm months, farmers on combines and tractors dominated the former dirt road my grandmother had entreated Gov. Terry Sanford to pave in the 1960s. Once paved, she was overjoyed, convinced that her one-woman letter-writing campaign was successful. More curious, still, given such activism had taken root in her. For Mama Patty never once drove on a public road. My father mopped tears of laughter from his eyes, telling us kids how she once rammed my grandfather’s lumbering, black Plymouth straight through the sturdy wall of the barn as he watched helplessly on, snuffing out all desire to become licensed. She swiftly sold the Plymouth to her preacher. Alternating their visits, Mama Patty and Mildred would wait until Mildred’s young daughters had caught the school bus before trekking through the woods for a cup of coffee and chat. Mildred and Mama Patty shared their bounty. They also shared the happinesses and pains of their many neighbors. Typically, they were first to prepare meals for the bereaved. The first to help when there was hardship in Goose Creek, a farming community and namesake of the nearby creek, which threaded past fields of soybeans, tall corn, cotton, wheat and alfalfa. Spring and summers, with planting, gathering and harvesting, presented little idle time. In the colder months, the fallow fields that lay outside their houses grew brown, as stalks crumpled along the rows. Even then, the resilient pair of women seldom rested, helping each other preserve something with every passing season. Come autumn, there would be vegetables and fruit to can, sauerkraut to prepare in a stone churn as the cabbage came in, and hominy made from corn in the same washhouse with a heat-fired The Art & Soul of Greensboro

basin where my grandmother had long ago made lye soap. Baking was never-ending. Mama Patty’s kitchen was heavily imbued with the honeyed perfume of butter, vanilla and sugar. The white-enamel GE oven barely cooled before she began peeling knotty Granny Smith apples picked from the orchard and rolling out another pastry. She was a substantially sized woman who preferred simple housedresses and aprons, along with navy slip-on Keds. Mama Patty kept her short, tightly curled hair dyed blackish-blue by her hairdresser daughter at Franklin’s Beauty Shop in Monroe. Her glasses would be Warby Parker-hip today, but they were owlish at the time, magnifying lively, black eyes. She never left home without a fresh hankie and a pearl-handled pocketknife in an apron pocket alongside a tube of Revlon — her sole concession to vanity. Mildred, at least 20 years younger than my grandmother, preferred capris and blouses, favoring white Keds that were kept spotless. She, too, wore her brown hair cropped short and little makeup on her tanned face. While not a conventional beauty, Mildred had an expressive, open face with deep dimples. Indigoblue eyes, crinkled by her constant smile and quick laughter, made her deeply attractive. She was too young to have weathered the hardships Mama Patty had survived — the loss of a child, the premature death of a spouse, the ravages of cancer and the pangs of a cozy nest emptying. She was inclined towards a sunny, empathetic nature. Mildred’s modesty, like her baking, even rivaled my grandmother’s. They had instantly adored one another, although Mama Patty was more serious in nature. Both women were Baptists, albeit one was a Primitive Baptist and the other, a Missionary Baptist. I loved it best when the two argued religion. I’d sit in the child’s rocking chair in the kitchen, near my grandmother’s Kennedy Rocker, and eavesdrop. They discussed predestination and the particulars of the afterlife. Primitive Baptists, a Calvinistic tradition, grew out of the many Scots-Irish who settled in the South. Theologically, they accepted predestination, unlike Missionary Baptists, who emphasized free will and evangelism. “Miss Pat, if I believed as you do, I don’t know what I’d do,” Mildred, a Missionary Baptist, would murmur, a smile curling her lip. “I probably would never sleep another wink.” O.Henry 33

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

HOME GROWN

Mama Patty would gently counter as they argued the “doctrines of grace.” Their voices would always be even as they graciously disagreed. And so, it would go: pondering, parrying. The two would proceed in this way, hearing each other out. It was a powerful life lesson in what neighborly love actually meant. Eventually, one or the other, usually my grandmother, would announce, “Let’s have some poundcake!” and the give-andtake would end. Mildred would pour strong coffee from the well-worn percolator on the stove as my grandmother served. It was years before I understood that, ideologically and politically, these women were poles apart. My grandparents were FDR standard bearers; educated and bonded over a love of stringed instruments. My grandfather became an educator and community leader. Mildred and her husband, Hughlan, were none of those things. Yet nothing but goodwill had passed between them all. I think of their ongoing kitchen table diplomacy as remarkable in a world where people seldom seek to bridge differences. Such neighborliness, such kind and generous acts of spirit, rarely make headlines or inspire television programs (except for Steve Hartman’s Kindness 101). And yet, Miz Pat and Mildred forged a lifetime of pleasures while discussing life’s mysteries. The two remained devoted neighbors until their respective ends. As my grandmother lay dying, Mildred’s warm hand sought hers, and they clasped. Now, I, too, seek such a path through a dense wood, in search of such connection. Especially when we believe in divergent things. And I imagine a Ted Talk, featuring Miz Pat and Mildred, two masters of communication, explaining how such wondrous things can commence with the simplest of gestures. They can begin with a poundcake. OH Cynthia Adams is a contributing editor to O.Henry magazine. Email her at inklyadams@aol.com. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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PLEASURES OF LIFE DEPT.

A Hoot in the Neighborhood The owls of Nottingham come home to roost By Ed Hines

PHOTOGRAPHS BY SHELTON STYERS

Shelton Ayers Styers and I became next-

door neighbors on Nottingham Road in the fall of 1954, just weeks before Hurricane Hazel hit Greensboro. While we both grew up and left home, we eventually returned to our respective childhood homes, she with her husband, Stan, and I with my wife, Carolyn. Then, in the spring of 2022, we found ourselves unexpectedly involved with another family altogether. Somewhere around mid-March of that year, Carolyn and I were out in our front yard when we heard quite a ruckus coming from crows who were perched in the magnolia tree in the park, just across the creek. Almost immediately after, the crows chased a sizable bird into one of the two large beech trees in our yard. That bird was a barred owl. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

In the days that followed, we determined that activity had been taking place in a cavity high up in the beech nearest our driveway. Shelton and Stan grew interested, too, and Shelton, an excellent amateur photographer, began taking snapshots with her trusty Nikon D700. She captured the mother owl, filling the opening to the cavity itself. Later, we noticed, that owl began leaving the site regularly, often returning with something in her beak for feeding. Once, while she was away, we spotted the downy feathers of a baby owlet for the first time, halfway back in the cavity. Soon, a second owlet was seen lurking behind the first. By the middle of April, the owlets were preparing to leave their nest, boldly but barely emerging from the cavity and testing their wings. Soon, our driveway was a neighborhood hotspot as daily walkers passed by and, along with us, checked in on the owlets’ progress. When they finally made the leap out of the tree, it was not a pretty sight! Barred owlets, we’d read, can’t just fly out of their nest. They typically do something called “branching,” where they O.Henry 37

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make their way to lower, smaller limbs of their host tree before falling to the ground below. In this case, that was our driveway. Owlets, we learned, then have to go through an arduous process of making their way to other trees, where they climb their way upward once again. The mother owl is always nearby, following her brood’s every move! Flying lessons follow for several weeks after that. Papa owl, also very involved, delivers meals around the clock and is a very feisty protector. We’ve often seen him ward off disruptive crows. We were all so invested that it felt like a personal victory when those owlets flew the coop for good. We waited and watched excitedly the following year after learning that owls often return to nest in the same tree. But nothing happened. We’d all but given up hope when, this past February, Carolyn spotted the mama owl. Once again, neighbors came together to witness the wonder of nature in our driveway. We watched as a single owlet matured and eventually took that first leap; old friends reconnected and new ones were made. Shelton, ever the photographer, documented it all. We’re hoping it won’t be another four years before the owls make their nest in our front yard, but, as Shelton and I both know, you can always come home to old friends. OH Ed Hines, a Greensboro native, recently completed a memoir dating back to the early 1940s when his parents and Shelton’s parents, who were close friends, bought adjoining Nottingham lots for $1,000 each. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

PHOTOGRAPHS BY SHELTON STYERS

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

BIRDWATCH

An Unexpected Guest The wandering little blue

By Susan Campbell

Late summer can be an especially exciting

time for birders — we need not travel far to find unexpected visitors. Sometimes weather events cause individuals to be blown off track and show up in the neighborhood. These lost birds may stick around for mere hours but, in other instances, it may be a more deliberate response to environmental conditions that brought them our way. One bird that frequently appears in wet areas later in the summer is the little blue heron. And it may be more than one who show up. Furthermore, they’re not usually blue. Young of the year, which these inland wanderers almost always are, are actually white. Except for the very tips of the wing feathers — usually a challenge to make out — these birds are covered with white feathers. Unlike the great or snowy egret, which also may turn up in the Piedmont or Sandhills this time of year, the bill of these small herons is pinkish or grayish, and the legs are greenish. All of these white waders may be spotted in shallow wet habitats: streams, small ponds, water hazards, retention areas, etc. Little blue herons may be by themselves, mixed in with other white, long-legged waders, or even seen with the much larger great blue heron. Little blues can be identified by their more upright foraging posture, their slow, deliberate movements, and a downward angled bill as they stalk prey. Unlike other smaller The Art & Soul of Greensboro

waders, they will hunt in deeper water, often all the way up to their bellies. Little blues watch not only for small fish but frogs and crayfish as well as large aquatic insects. It is thought that their coloration allows them to blend in inconspicuously with similar white species, allowing the association to provide protection from predators. Also, it has been found that little blues are significantly more successful predators when foraging alongside great egrets. These larger birds are likely to stir up the water as they move after underwater prey, which can flush a meal in the direction of nearby little blues. It takes these herons at least a year to develop adult plumage — not unlike white ibis, which also breed along our coast (but who sport dark plumage their first summer and fall). They may have a pied appearance for a time in late winter or early spring. By April they will be a slatey blue-gray all over with a handsome bluish bill. Unlike our other wading birds, they lack showy head or neck plumes. They are also unique in having projections on their middle toes that form a comb, which is used as an aid when grooming. Unfortunately, this species has experienced an alarming drop in population numbers over the past half-century across North America. Loss of coastal wetland habitat, continued declines in water quality, as well as being eliminated as a nuisance in fish hatcheries, all are thought to contribute to the decline. So, be sure to stop and appreciate these stately birds should you come across one. OH Susan Campbell would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photos. She can be contacted by email at susan@ncaves.com. O.Henry 41

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Grindhouse Comes to Greensboro

Dick Clark’s descent upon the Carolina Theatre By Billy Ingram

“I don’t make culture. I sell it.” — Dick Clark

My pal, Nathan Stringer, casually men-

tioned that his grandfather, Clint Stringer, was in a major 1960s motion picture that happened to be shot in Ramseur, between Greensboro and Asheboro, and it starred American Bandstand’s Dick Clark and country music legend Merle Haggard. Curiosity caused me to delve into what is a most bizarre story.

Ramseur holds a funky footnote in motion picture history, harkening back to 1939 when Lexington-based itinerate filmmaker H. Lee Waters positioned his silent 16mm camera downtown, for recording just plain folks scurrying around. All in all, Waters’ six-year-long effort chronicled over 250 Depression-era Southern communities, including our own fair city, in a series he called Movies of Local People. Jump cut three decades forward to the summer of ’68, when Clark and Haggard made their acting debuts in Killers Three, a moonshine-fueled, hicksploitation flick filmed entirely in Ramseur (population then 1,200, maybe up to 2,000 today!), nearby Coleridge and Asheboro. Set in 1947, it’s a cinematic melee of rednecks, leathernecks, roughnecks and revenuers grinding gears at breakneck speeds, eating dust and chasing modified Mopars and Ford flatheads down backroads caked in Carolina clay. Killers Three was produced and co-written for American International Pictures (AIP) by TV DJ Clark. With a budget of $400,000, Clark intentionally took the low road. “I saw Bonnie and Clyde before it became popular and told the writer [Michael Fisher], ‘Let’s go to work and do something like this right away.’” While originally conceived to be more bloodstained and murderous, Hollywood was taking considerable heat for promoting violent content causing producers to downshift a bit following the assassination of Robert Kennedy that summer. Clark, euphemistically known in the ’60s as “America’s Oldest Teenager,” is just plain goofy in this misguided acting foray; bespectacled and sporting an ill-fitting pornstache, he delivers The Art & Soul of Greensboro

a stupefyingly monochromatic performance as Roger, an old Army buddy of the film’s protagonist, Johnny. In the leading role of Johnny (are all B-movie reprobates named Johnny?) is Robert Walker Jr., seen two years earlier as a raging teen with psionic powers in “Charlie X,” the second episode of Star Trek. Despite being the son of a Southern California movie star, Walker is surprisingly believable as a post-war Southerner. Diane Varsi, a 1957 Academy-Award nominee for Peyton Place, plays Johnny’s love interest, Carol. She also starred in another 1968 AIP release, counterculture cult classic Wild in the Streets. Cast against type, Haggard, former inmate and founding icon of Outlaw Country, portrays a heroic highway patrolman. Haggard wrote two tunes for this project. One of which is Mighty Merle’s signature anthem, “Mama Tried,” an autobiographical tale about turning 21 in prison despite a mother’s best efforts. “Mama Tried” became a smash pop and country single while Killers Three was in post-production. Bruce Kessler was hired to direct on the basis of serving as second-unit director for Howard Hawks’ 1965 film, Red Line 7000. In that movie, he captured high-speed stock car painttrading and cyclonic, fiery spinouts, his cameras trained on racing superstars Junior Johnson, A. J. Foyt and even Richard Petty steering his No. 43 ’64 Plymouth. Dozens of residents in and around Ramseur were rounded up as supporting characters, like the tipsy blonde lady downing shots in a honky-tonk saloon and lamenting her ex: “I keep tryin’ to remember what he’s got that I don’t. And then I remember . . .” The aforementioned Clint Stringer landed a plum role as corrupt Sheriff Homer Brown. Photographed leaning against one of two 1942 Chevrolet Fleetline Aerosedans destined to be flung forcefully off a bridge and into the Deep River’s muddy waters, Clint popped up in newspapers around the state, making him O.Henry 43

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somewhat of a local celebrity already. Edited with a tire iron yet beautifully lit and photographed, the movie comes across as a dead-end attempt at a low-rent Thunder Road. As a date night Drive-In attraction, however, Killers Three scores with boisterous bursts of action juxtaposed with romantic interludes for inciting car-lot canoodling. There’s an abundance of banjo plunking by The Strangers and a featurelength ballad performed by Haggard, serving as narration that peppers the indecipherable saltine-noir storyline. What isn’t apparent, aside from hintedat military service shenanigans, is what a cocksure country boy like Johnny finds attractive about a shifty, narcissistic city slicker like Roger, the kind of repressed personality who takes a gal out for a wilderness row-boat ride dressed like Niles Crane. Before long, women in Johnny’s orbit begin whispering. Loudly. Five months after filming wrapped, Clark and his Tinsel Town contingent checked into the new Sheraton Motor Inn at South Elm and I-85, on Monday, November 11, one day before the Carolina Theatre’s world premiere of Killers Three. Normally, when Hollywood-types blow into town bringing snow along with them, that powder is measured in grams. This time, it was measured in inches. With rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning throughout the night, Greensboro awoke Tuesday to 4 inches of sleet and snow, leaving 20,000 homes without power. Undeterred, Tuesday morning began with a press conference held at the Sheraton, followed by a catered affair for the media. Downtown that afternoon at 4:30, an aroma of roasting peanuts, room temperature taffy and faint wisps of patchouli permeating the air, a throng of Bandstand fans eagerly greeted Clark as he strode toward Sears’ record center. He flashed his collegiate Colgate smile and spent over an hour scrawling autographs across Killers Three soundtrack LPs. Following that, cast members and dignitaries were feted at a pre-premiere barbecue-and-beer hoedown at Smith’s Ranch Motel on Battleground. At 7 p.m., attendees were transported to Greene

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

WANDERING BILLY

Street, where arc lights strafed the skies and a musical pre-show was already underway outside the Carolina Theatre. Clark walked the red carpet alongside Tony York, the 5-year-old cast as Johnny and Carol’s love child. Despite his every line of dialogue being ineptly overdubbed, the preschooler was inexplicably signed to a five-year contract by Clark, who gushed, “If ever a star was born in North Carolina, it will be little Tony York.” Ava Gardner wasn’t available for comment. The actual breakout star was none other than Clint Stringer, besieged by autograph seekers following the screening. “I’ll tell you something though,” he confessed to the crowd, “I sure didn’t think I looked that ugly and stupid.” Stringer was already well known to Greensboro residents as the “Ice Cream Man” who began peddling frozen treats down neighborhood streets in the 1950s, riding astride an Indian Motorcycle with a refrigerated sidecar. The afterparty at the Sheraton wailed into the wee hours. Stringer and his wife, Josephine, freely imbibed at the open bar before returning to their home in Level Cross. He had professed a desire to pursue acting — he clearly had the talent — so AIP arranged for him and his wife to fly to Hollywood and explore that possibility. The couple got blotto the night before and missed their flight. In true Grindhouse fashion, during one of their frequent drunken brawls just a few years later Clint fatally found himself on the wrong end of Josephine’s ire/gun, according to Nathan. In 1992, another feature, Children of the Corn: The Final Sacrifice, was filmed extensively in Ramseur and Coleridge, utilizing many of the same locations as Killers Three. Despite being a close-knit textile town whose primary employer folded over six decades ago, one gets the feeling that photogenic Ramseur remains camera ready for her next closeup. To paraphrase Norma Desmond: It’s not the towns that got small, it’s the pictures! OH Billy Ingram’s book about Greensboro, EYE ON GSO, is available wherever books are sold or pulped.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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September 2026 Proto-Indo-European Speakers Those steppe-dwellers had words for apple and bee, so we can guess at where they were and weren’t, can guess at the wheeled wagons and lactose-tolerant mutations and skills on horseback that helped them spread the tongue. I love learning how thick forests kept languages isolated, how textiles weren’t possible until sheep ascended mountainous terrain in western Asia and evolved longer wool, and all these factors led to a family of shared sounds reaching across continents, across time. Our words for mouse and mead and star and new aren’t so different from theirs, and I can’t help thinking that they looked drunkenly at the night sky and felt the same wonder and renewal that I do when I stumble into the darkness and am swallowed by a night whose constellations form the same shapes those nomadic herders would have seen — bear, serpent, warring god — each a light from someone else’s sun, so distant it might as well be eternity. And someday, my human descendant may reach one of those planets and may have on the journey a record of the words I spoke during this time of ignorance, and he may see in his own words some parallel to mine: remember or solace or joy.

— Ross White

Ross White is the director of Bull City Press, an independent publisher of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction. He is the author of Charm Offensive, winner of the Sexton Prize for Poetry. He teaches creative writing at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and co-hosts The Chapbook, a podcast devoted to tiny, delightful collections.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry 47

Local artists turn paint, sequins and ephemera into portraits of William Sydney Porter By Joi Floyd

n honor of O.Henry magazine’s 15th anniversary this month, there’s no better time to celebrate the many faces of our namesake, Greensboro-born William Sydney Porter — more commonly known by one of his pen names, O. Henry. In just a few decades, he went from a prison inmate in Texas to one of America’s most popular writers, selling nearly 5 million copies of his books in

the U.S. We asked five local artists to take a crack at portraying the elusive storyteller through their own creative lens. Maybe their interpretations will reveal something new or maybe they’ll only deepen the mystery. Either way, we’re happy to keep the legend alive — and we’re raising our Sazerac to another 15 years of carrying on his literary legacy. (See page 60 to learn more about O. Henry.)

Artist: JA MES CEL A NO

“It’s a visual art. Just look at it,” Some people can’t resist looking for the hidden meaning in a work of art. Others are happy to let it have the last word. William Sydney Porter trusted his stories to speak for themselves, and Greensboro artist James Celano, a graduate of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, takes the same approach. The best way to experience art, he says, is simply to look at it. Much like our esteemed O. Henry, Celano chose to focus solely on the image, allowing viewers to create their own interpretations. “The trickiest part was work-

48 O.Henry

ing from a black-and-white photograph,” he says. Still, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Using oil paint on a birchwood panel, Celano transformed the reference image into a striking portrait. When asked about his process, Celano prefers to keep the mystery intact. Referencing a quote from renowned Frenchman Paul Valéry, he says, “I think a French poet once said, ‘One must apologize for talking about painting.’”

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry 49

Artist: SK Y BR A DSH AW

“Stitch by stitch, sequin by sequin.” In Porter’s prime years he was a short-story star. His writing is where he shone most, whether fiction or poetry. And what better way to commemorate a life that sparkled than with sequins? Sky Bradshaw, a sequin and textile artist, says her creative process brought her a deeper understanding of Porter as well as the city she calls home. “I felt like it rooted me in a lot of ways with history in Greensboro that I never touched on,” says Bradshaw. With needle, thread and thousands of glimmering sequins, Bradshaw stitched a scintillating adaptation of O.

50 O.Henry

Henry’s face, drawing on the myriad of stories that were told about him. Beginning with a simple white cloth, she sat quietly with her sketch, letting it unfold through meditation before weaving embroidery and shimmering embellishments into a portrait worth a thousand stories. “Connecting with his energy, history and story allowed me to tune into the underdog aspects of myself,” says Bradshaw. One O. Henry quote specifically spoke to her: “There are stories in everything.” And in this piece, Bradshaw has connected an invisible string from herself to Porter, artist to artist.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Artist: CHRISTINA HILL

“It just goes to show that your life doesn’t have to be perfectly lived in order to be something amazing.” William Sydney Porter’s talent carried him to remarkable heights. From founding The Rolling Stone — no, not that Rolling Stone — magazine to writing for The New York Sunday World magazine, he painted the picture of a successful writer. But, behind every carefully crafted portrait lies a different story. Greensboro artist Christina Hill, known for her bold color palettes and blushing portraits, chose to focus on the more flawed side of Porter’s life rather than presenting an idealized image. “There’s so much more to him that you can’t speak through him, so I felt like it needed to be behind him to show who he was,” Hill says. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Through her research, Hill found beauty in Porter’s imperfections. His life was marked by setbacks, including an embezzlement conviction and time in federal prison. Yet under the pseudonym O. Henry, he transformed hardship into enduring short stories. To reflect the complexity of his life, Hill incorporated layers of vintage materials, such as old newspaper articles, into the work. “The paper is from the 1950s. I found it years ago at the Salvation Army,” she explains. Hill’s portrait invites viewers to see more than just face value. Embedded within the painting are traces of his past and the experiences that shaped him as a writer. O.Henry 51

Artist: LETI REIS

“It was kind of like a lost story.” “For me, what I was trying to give with the painting was that he was [immersing] himself in the story,” says Leti Reis, a Greensboro-based artist. Rather than focusing solely on technique, Reis painted from feeling, creating a portrait that she can only describe as “emotional.” “I like to have this watercolor background and just let the paint flow,” Reis says. Because Porter was a writer, she wanted his words to become part of the piece itself. Layering blooming watercolor with pas-

52 O.Henry

sages from O. Henry’s writing in ink, she created a portrait that blends the author’s words with his image, inviting viewers into both his world and his work. For Reis, the tie between an artist and their art begins with the eyes. “I couldn’t find any pictures with him looking at the camera, so I changed it. I wanted that connection in the painting,” she says. By meeting the viewer’s gaze, her portrait creates an intimate encounter with Porter, much like his short stories. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Artist: RU K I YA W ILLI A MS

“I wanted to know what’s in between.” There are many ways to describe William Sydney Porter; clever, witty, a genius storyteller. But, for Rukiya Williams, local artist and filmmaker, “layered” suits her fancy best. Working with recycled cardboard and acrylic paint, Williams built O. Henry’s portrait one layer at a time, creating a face that reflects the many stories he told — and the many lives he lived — while suiting her creative mission. “The repurposed supplies and layer concept speaks to me more as an artist, so I incorporated that into the painting,” she says. For her, one facial feature mattered most: “The main thing I wanted to showcase

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

was his eyes.” Piercing blue and hard to overlook, Porter’s eyes steal the show, rivaled only by his signature ’stache. “Art is about trying to find another angle and perspective,” notes Williams. It’s a sentiment our beloved Porter himself might have appreciated. No stranger to seeing the world from a different point of view, in his 1904 novel Cabbages and Kings, O. Henry writes, “I wanted to paint a picture some day that people would stand before and forget that it was made of paint. I wanted it to creep into them like a bar of music and mushroom there like a soft bullet.” OH

O.Henry 53

tellers Story

For decades, ArtStock Studio Tour has connected artists with the greater Greensboro community By Ross Howell Jr. • Photographs by Bert VanderVeen

“W

hat sells a painting is its story,” says Natalie Eversole, the new director of ArtStock Studio Tour, a program now celebrating 30 years of providing essential services for artists’ careers in Greensboro and Guilford County. Nodding in agreement, Terry Wessling, who served as ArtStock’s director the past three years, has stayed on as assistant director so he can mentor Eversole. “Yep,” Wessling says. “The story behind the piece. Or the story behind the artist.” So how do those stories get shared? Well, the concept is simple. Back in 1996, when the program was established in Greensboro by a husbandand-wife artist team, Keith and Betsy Rose, the concept of open studio tours was just being introduced across the U.S.

54 O.Henry

— from Portland, Ore., to Philadelphia. If people could meet artists in their studios and homes, and see close up the artwork they produce and how they produce it, those people would be more likely to become active consumers of art. While we may entertain romantic visions of solitary artists laboring over their passion, the simple fact is that artists can’t sustain their careers without people buying their work. Professional artists themselves, Eversole and Wessling are keenly aware of that reality. So, on their own time and with no compensation, they’re working hard to sustain the ArtStock tradition. They’re perfect for the job. With her bright artist’s eyes, Eversole — the mother of a toddler — looks even younger than her years and her The Art & Soul of Greensboro

voice brims with the energy of youth, while Wessling — retired from a successful graphic design and marketing business — sports the grizzled hair and beard of a seasoned veteran. Eversole was born in Raleigh and later moved to Wilmington with her parents, who own a fine art gallery. “I grew up around artists,” she says. She never set out to be an artist, but did feel a pull to work behind the scenes. “So I took to the science of art,” Eversole explains. “I wanted to be a painting restorer.” Her academic choices in the U.S. were limited. Art restoration is a subset of art conservation, and the only undergraduate academic program in conservation was at the University of Delaware. And the major required a healthy dose of chemistry. Eversole opted to begin her chemistry The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry 55

studies closer to home at East Carolina University. While still a freshman, she was invited to attend the Moscow Surikov State Academic Institute of Fine Arts in Russia. “I was there about two years and finished the program in conservation,” Eversole continues. “From there, I went directly to New York, where I got a job banging on people’s doors!” She laughs at the thought. The purpose of the knocking was to solicit business for her employer, Simon Parkes Art Conservation, a highly regarded painting restoration studio that was based near the offices of Sotheby’s. (It closed in August 2025 following Parkes’ death.) “Simon Parkes was Sotheby’s go-to art restorer,” Eversole explains. “So I’ve worked on Picassos, Sargents, Monets, you name it. That was a special experience.”

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In 2017, she returned south to Greensboro, discovering that sometime during the years of study and work, the artist bug had bit. Here, Wessling takes up the narrative. At the time Eversole moved to Greensboro in 2017, Wessling was sharing space with his daughter at Studio 503, where he offered graphic design while his daughter was concentrating on photography. But he also had a side quest. “I got hooked on old, manually-operated printing equipment,” Wessling acknowledges. He has five letterpresses that are more than 100 years old. They’re enormous, cast-iron machines that were used to print newspapers and books back in the day. “I use them to print artwork,” Wessling says with a grin. (In 2018, he started marketing his prints through ArtStock.) Eversole also had a space at Studio 503 that she shared with a friend. Her work caught Wessling’s eye. “As I recall, she was doing some art conservation and some painting,” Wessling says. “I think she had a couple commissions from people to paint portraits.” At any rate, the two got to know each other. When Wessling agreed to take over the ArtStock directorship in 2023, he hired Eversole to curate that year’s gallery show. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

“I needed somebody who had gallery experience,” he explains. “She was a natural fit.” “And the rest is history!” Eversole quips. You’ll discover a broad range of mediums and styles in the artworks displayed throughout the ArtStock Studio Tour, which begins on Thursday evening, October 1, with a plenary gallery show at the Center for Visual Artists, found inside the Cultural Arts Center downtown. The show presents three new works of art from each of the 50 or so artists participating. No judges decide what works will hang in the show. As long as the works the artists submit are recent, they will be displayed. Side by side, you’ll see the artworks of amateurs, skilled newcomers and talented, experienced artists who’ve been part of ArtStock for years. That’s by design — for the two distinct audiences the event draws together. First is the audience of collectors or potential collectors of art. “Education is so important in what we do,” Eversole says. “I like talking to people about the value of bringing beauty into your home, a one-of-a-kind piece that a human being created, the joy you feel when you see it.” O.Henry 57

ArtStock Studio Tour 2026 Artists Crystal Miller acrylic, mixed-media,

Jessamyn Bailey collage, etching,

fiber-and-fabric, mixed-media, oil, printmaking, photography, watercolor

watercolor

Susanne Baker paper-making, collage, fiber-and-fabric, mixed-media

watercolor

Jennifer Ballard acrylic, collage Franchone Bass fiber-and-fabric,

Paul Nixon acrylic, mixed-media, wood, sculpture, photography

Janet Berry oil

Brenda Olds Carter acrylic, collage, mixed-media, glass, watercolor

Carol Moates acrylic, calligraphy, oil,

Timothy Moran ceramics-pottery

acrylic, mixed-media, jewelry, wood

Nirmal Panchal digital, acrylic, collage, mixed-media, glass, sculpture, wood

Sidney Branch acrylic, collage, mixed-media, jewelry Laura Bricker oil

Kathryn Patterson oil, watercolor

Brownlee Bryant oil

Katie Podracky painting

Celia Bucek acrylic, fiber-and-fabric

Joanne Rich collage, acrylic, mixed-

Amy Buchanan acrylic, collage,

media, papercutting, watercolor, photography

mixed-media, oil, watercolor

Jerry Carpenter mixed-media, papier

Craig Richards acrylic, oil

mache

Joie Lola Chapman acrylic, collage,

mixed-media, oil, paper, watercolor, pastel

Terry Chavis ceramics-pottery Laura Cooke ceramics-pottery

digital, oil, ink Martha Hicks acrylic, ink, mixed-

media, oil, watercolor, sculpture

Christina Hill acrylic, mixed-media

Susan Ridenour ceramics-pottery Natalie Schorr collage, mixed-media Dorothy Sellers acrylic, oil Bruce Shores sculpture, watercolor,

printmaking

Maddie Cratch collage, mixed-media,

Jenny Jones B. acrylic, collage,

watercolor

glass, mixed-media, sculpture

Sally Donnell Rilee oil

Gail Kelly ceramics-pottery, glass

Elizabeth Stafford watercolor

papercutting, sculpture

John Easton collage, ceramics-

pottery, mixed-media, glass sculpture, jewelry

sculpture

Christopher Koenig acrylic, collage Alexis Lavine watercolor

Chana Smith acrylic, fiber-and-fabric,

Renee Swink acrylic, oil Ronda Szymanski mixed-media Kathryn Beam Troxler oil, pastel,

Natalie Eversole oil

Elizabeth Lemon fiber-and-fabric

watercolor

Stacy Fogleman acrylic, collage, mixed-media, paper, ink, watercolor

Andrea Lewis photography

Bethany Vigilante acrylic, collage,

Janet Gaddy ceramics-pottery

watercolor

digital, mixed-media, pastel, photography, printmaking, watercolor

Page Gleeson charcoal

Jane McAuliffe pastel

Terry Wessling printmaking

Veronica Grossi oil, pastel, watercolor

Judy Meyler oil

Ash Hein acrylic, ceramics-pottery,

Terri Millard collage

Fay Wood collage, fiber-and-fabric, ink, mixed-media, oil, paper sculpture, watercolor, wood

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Judy Lomax glass, ink, jewelry, oil,

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

“Whether you’re just starting out as a collector or your family’s collected for generations, you learn to hone your eye,” she continues. “You’ll come to recognize composition, color, design and technique, regardless of where you are in your art journey.” The second audience is the artists themselves. “As an artist, you can find yourself doing the same thing over and over again, whether it’s good, bad or indifferent,” Wessling says. But he believes that if local artists study the work of other artists, it can help them see how to do things better or at least differently, and how to expand as an artist. “We’re not here to teach you that,” he adds. “That’s something that you need to do as an artist on your own.” And finally, the special sauce of the Thursday night gallery social event is served — the maps guests take with them to navigate weekend visits to artists’ open studios and homes on October 3 and 4. For many, the weekend’s studio tour is the highlight of ArtStock. Why? It all comes down to stories. “People get to hang out with the artists whose paintings they saw at the gallery,” says Eversole. “They want to know more. So they can sit down out in the back yard, have a glass of wine and just chat.” Some of the artists are real masters as hosts, offering French desserts, rosé and champagne. A few homes will feature multiple artists, making it convenient for tour hoppers — less driving, more admiring. For local artists, however, perhaps the critical component of the ArtStock Studio Tour is the placement they receive on the

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

service’s website, www.artstocktour.com. (You can also follow ArtStock Studio Tour on Facebook.) For a year’s time — and for a very modest fee — artists have their own individual webpages on the ArtStock site, featuring the artist’s profile and the works displayed at the gallery show. The website is e-commerce friendly, so the artists can sell their work directly to buyers. “We’ve developed ArtStock Studio Tour to provide a marketing and promotion component for local artists who don’t have the knowledge, skills, time or money to do their own promotion,” Wessling says. But a broad, art-savvy community committed to its artists is essential to success. “I think that Greensboro loves its art,” Eversole says. “But if you want to keep art in your community, you have to provide for it. You have to buy the work.” Ever the marketing guy, Wessling chimes in. “We’ve got a lot of great artists who are going to make a name for themselves. Get in early, before their artwork’s priced by a large gallery!” Eversole reflects for a moment. “My earliest patrons were people who saw my work in my backyard gallery,” she says. Be sure to attend ArtStock Studio Tour this October. Look at the art. Visit with the artists. Listen to their personal stories. Hear why they created that piece you especially like. You might just find yourself face to face with the artist you didn’t even realize you’d been searching for. OH Ross Howell Jr. is a contributing writer. O.Henry 59

The mysterious master of short stories and tall tales By Cynthia Adams

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y the time he arrived in New York City in 1902, writer William Sydney Porter was in his 40s and had effectively disappeared into his identity as O. Henry. Living in a Gramercy Park apartment, he was grinding pieces as fast as he could produce them, committed to writing a short story weekly from 1903 to 1906. One biographer, David Stuart, said he wrote his opus, “The Gift of the Magi,” in a few feverish hours as The New York Sunday World’s Christmas edition waited on press. (To further burnish the legend, he was said to have written “Magi” at Pete’s Tavern near his apartment.) Porter produced nearly 400 short stories by 1910. He sought anonymity, refusing to allow publications to print his photo. He haunted the city by night, including the Bowery and Hell’s Kitchen. And he drank. During a rare 1909 New York Times interview at home before his death, he suggested the writer describe him as a “healthy butcher.” The writer duly noted his full head of hair. But Porter, in the last stages of cirrhosis, was a dying man. He reported earning $750 for a short story in the same interview. However, he also shaved five years off his age, saying he was born “in Greensborough” in 1867. It was a common pattern for the chameleon-like author, having successfully hidden his three years in an Ohio Penitentiary for embezzlement by changing his name. Incarceration, The New Yorker once observed in a piece about Porter, “is the secret he spent the rest of his life trying to hide — even from his daughter.” By the early 1900s, Marquis Who’s Who in America described him as “a cowboy, sheep herder, merchant, miner, druggist, and extensive traveler.” (He denied being a miner.) The truth was remarkable enough: Porter was, in fact, a trained pharmacist, sketch artist, ranch hand, editor, bank teller, short-story writer — and, definitively, inmate. In the fall of 1916, a full six years after his death, The New York Times outed the secret of his incarceration. Undeterred, in 1918, the Twilight Club, later known as the Society of Arts and Letters, in New York established a national writing prize in his honor. It continues today. One of Porter’s closest friends from Greensboro, Professor C.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Alphonso Smith (buried in Green Hill Cemetery), soon published his biography. By 1923, a group of well-heeled women met in the home of Mrs. W. Justice to organize the O. Henry Study Club. Initially limited to 24 members, it was later expanded to 35, given its popularity. In 1925, the club awarded its first O. Henry Short Story Prize, according to a club history by Mary L. Herbert archived at the Greensboro History Museum. A collection of club minutes and programs resides at the Greensboro History Museum. “When Greensboro had only one senior high school, we established an award for the best short story written by a member of the senior class,” the historian noted. The first-place winner received cash or a government bond and a leather-bound set of O. Henry’s books. Our magazine’s founding editor, Jim Dodson, won the O. Henry prize in 1970 as a Grimsley High School student. “It was a set of O. Henry books — still have them — and a sweet little certificate,” he recalls. A high school athlete at the time, he adds, “Very embarrassing, instant loss of cred with my buddies.” According to archives at UNCG, the O. Henry Study Club continued into the 1990s, surviving longer than Porter’s 48 years. Recently, Greensboro resident Teresa Moore discovered a tranche of programs from the 1930s–50s belonging to her greataunt, founding member Mrs. W. E. (Mary) Blair, depicting member names and duties. By 1948, the O. Henry Study Club paid an $18.75 government bond to the first-place winner, and $10 to the second-place winner. Payouts were recorded from 1948–1965, when first place had risen to $25. (The writing contest was later overseen by UNCG’s literary magazine.) Approaching the O. Henry Study Club’s 25th anniversary in 1939, Nellie Rowe, head of the Greensboro Public Library and an O. Henry Study Club member, proposed something ambitious. An original portrait of Greensboro’s native son O. Henry should be presented to the library. The club raised $500 from its members, equivalent to nearly $12,000 today, commissioning artist Henry Rood Jr. The club planned the unveiling for September 27, 1939. Mrs. Henry P. (Ada) Foust, invited The Saturday Review from New

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York, using her finest monogrammed stationery. The Review sent regrets but requested a print of the portrait for publication. O. Henry’s oil portrait was hung in the library, which occupied the first floor of what is now the Greensboro History Museum. Today it hangs in the Greensboro Public Library downtown. Surprisingly, the pen name on this magazine’s masthead, created in 2011, was not the only pen name Porter adopted. Former O.Henry contributing editor Jim Schlosser, who has researched Porter extensively, mentions his use of S. H. Peters and Sydney Porter. The writer says Porter also considered James L. Bliss, T. B. Down, Howard Clark and Olivier Henry. While on the lam in New Orleans, he had also flirted with the name Shirley Worth, his older brother’s first and middle names, filing newspaper assignments as Worth. “A newspaper once wrote and asked me what the ‘O’ stands for,” Porter once said. “I replied, ‘O’ stands for Olivier, the French for Oliver. And several of my stories accordingly appeared in that paper under the name Olivier Henry.” Only as inmate #30664 at the Ohio State Penitentiary did Porter settle on O. Henry. The year before his death, Porter told The New York Times reporter, “It was during these New Orleans days that I adopted my pen name of O. Henry. I said to a friend: ‘I’m going to send out some stuff. I don't know if it amounts to much, so I want to get a literary alias. Help me pick out a good one.’ He suggested that we get a newspaper and pick a name from the first list of notables that we found in it. In the society columns we found the account of a fashionable ball. ‘Here we have our notables,’ said he. We looked down the list and my eye lighted on the name Henry. ‘That’ll do for a last name,’ said I. ‘Now for a first name. I want something short. None of your three-syllable names for me.’ ‘Why don't you use a plain initial letter, then?’ asked my friend. ‘Good,’ said I, “O” is about the easiest letter written, and “O” it is.’” Austin, Texas, where he had worked, married and became a father, went unmentioned. It was the place where he had faced the death of a son and wife, plus ruin and conviction for embezzlement. It is also the home of the O. Henry Museum, housed in Porter’s former residence. He produced as many as 14 short stories in 39 months of imprisonment. Some characters were modeled after friends and inmates. Jimmy Valentine in “A Retrieved Reformation” was based on another drug clerk in the prison hospital who was a “notorious safe blower,” according to a 1916 news story.

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Twelve of his “best known stories belong to that period,” noted a posthumous article. The New Yorker piece noted that “bankers, millionaires and politicians . . . are the true grifters” and that Porter sided with “the marginalized and the downtrodden.” To his close friend Smith, “O. Henry was the composite smile of Greensboro.” Yet “The Gift of the Magi” differed: “Life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.” Porter wrote those words at 43. After his death, the writer’s popularity was undiminished, even as his secret was exposed. Porter’s childhood friend wished to set the record straight. “Professor C. Alphonso Smith of the University of Virginia has decided to publish the complete story of O. Henry’s trial and imprisonment,” The New York Times reported in 1916. The Times said listening to convicts “from Arizona, Texas, and the Indian Territory” informed his popular works, “turning a stumbling block into a stepping stone . . .” In an improbable twist to his personal story, prison was where “he passed from journalism to literature.” Smith’s biography devotedly compared Porter to Rudyard Kipling, Bret Harte and Guy de Maupassant, saying he had been hailed as “the Homer of the Tenderloin” in New York. He corresponded lifelong with Porter. Smith had previously declared, “Unarguably, the greatest living master of the short story” was none other than Will Porter of Greensboro. “Even in 1953, the final year of Stalin's dictatorship, the Soviets printed almost a quarter of a million O. Henry books.” A century later, O. Henry’s popularity in Russia endures. Porter’s last two stories were for Cosmopolitan magazine. The first, “Let Me Feel Your Pulse,” is eerily sentient and published on June 5, 1910 — the day he died. The final one, “The Dream,” was found on his desk, incomplete but with an outline. (It was published posthumously in September that year.) He told the publisher he wanted to write something straightforward, completely different. A condemned man approaching death imagines a different life. “Murray had dreamed the wrong dream,” he wrote. With the story stopped mid-sentence, he was taken to the Polyclinic Hospital, where he checked in under a false name. Perhaps America’s greatest short story writer, O. Henry died alone two days later. “About the only chance for the truth to be told,” he wrote another publisher that same year, “is in fiction.” OH

O.Henry 63

A Golden

Opportunity

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

A once-vacant Fisher Park home overflows with life and color By Cassie Bustamante • Photographs by Betsy Blake

“I

’d always wanted to live in an old house,” says Catherine Birch. Even as a child she knew she wanted to fix up old homes. Four years ago, an outdated, water-damaged abode with peeling paint provided her and her husband, Jed, a golden opportunity. “This grand Fisher Park home needs a new owner who will repair and restore her to her former glory,” the listing read. Today, the Dutch Colonial’s rich, olive-green door and porch — Farrow & Ball’s Bancha — invite guests inside, where textiles, painted ceilings, wallpaper and artwork convey a joyful life. Several rooms are saturated in color with splashes of whimsy. Jed and Catherine, who serves on the Greensboro Historic Building Trust

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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board, have during their renovation uncovered clues to the house’s former inhabitants while making it into a home of their own. While Catherine’s childhood home in nearby Randleman wasn’t historic, she knows exactly where that seed of desire was planted: in her grandmother’s overcentury-old house. Out of that sprang a path forward. After attending UNCG for a couple of years, she transferred to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), where she earned her Bachelor of Fine Arts in historic preservation. Today, she works as lead designer at Greensboro Kitchen and Bath, a family business her father and brother launched in 2007 when she was in college. In 2009, while enrolled at SCAD, Catherine met Jed on a blind date — at Bass Pro Shops, of all places. Who knew romance could blossom between racks of fishing poles and rugged apparel? Jed, a golf irrigation specialist, was working on a course in Bluffton, S.C., 40 minutes from Savannah, with a fellow Catherine’s roommate was dating. (As it turns out, they would also go on to marry). Fall breezes had just begun to cool Southern temperatures, so Jed’s coworker lured him there under the pretense of gearing up for cold weather. Jed took the bait — after all, their work had them outside most days. “And by the way, my girlfriend wants to go and she’s gonna bring a friend,” Jed recalls his pal saying. “It was a set up,” he adds. “We were kind of never apart after that,” says Catherine, her dark-brown eyes glimmering. “It was just a natural fit.” After Catherine’s 2011 graduation, the young couple remained in Savannah for another eight months or so until Jed, who earned his bachelor’s degree in turf science from The Ohio State University, was tapped for a new opportunity. A friend of his had taken a superintendent’s job at a Lexington, Kentucky, country club. “He called me and was like, if you ever want something different, give me a call,” says Jed.

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Jed, who hails from Virginia, was burnt out on South Carolina. Soon enough, the moving truck wheels were in motion, and Catherine found herself working at the country club, too. “My job morphed several times,” she recalls. Eventually, she ended up doing event planning at the club, which led to a role doing the same at Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill, the largest National Historic Landmark in Kentucky. Focused on historic preservation, Shaker Village felt more in line with her career goals. In Lexington, the couple first dipped their toes — or perhaps dove headfirst — into old-home ownership and all that comes with it. They purchased a 1924 fixer-upper that “needed a lot of work.” On top of that, they got married and adopted Eddie, a gentle, old hound dog who turns 14 this month. Sights set on starting their own family and first renovation behind them, Catherine and Jed decided to relocate to Greensboro in 2018. Catherine joined the family business and Jed found a position with a local distributor in commercial and sports turf irrigation services. His role has him often traveling to Southern university campuses and professional stadiums. “I was at Wake The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Forest [University] today,” he says. With two new jobs and Catherine’s desire to revamp Greensboro Kitchen and Bath a bit, they decided to purchase a home that, while still old, didn’t need work. Their plates were full enough as it was. They zeroed in on Lindley Park and Fisher Park, seeking “an older, historic neighborhood that’s walkable with sidewalks.” On New Year’s Eve that year, the couple closed on a 1935 Lindley Park charmer that had already been renovated by Frye Build + Design. “It was a good house,” says Catherine. But, she adds, “We just never felt fully comfortable because there was nothing for us to do.” That itch to “put our stamp on it” crept back in and, after a few years, they began looking for something that needed the love they had to give. Their realtors, Maggie Marston and Joanna Harris, showed them a few contenders before they stepped foot inside what is now their Florence Street home (@florencestreetrevival on Instagram). Jed wandered upstairs with Joanna. “I remember being in what is now our primary bedroom,” he O.Henry 69

says. “It was late afternoon.” “Oh, it was when that light’s perfect,” says Catherine, a dreamy look in her eyes. “That room just glows.” That golden-hour moment sealed the deal. Jed recalls knowing right then, “Yeah, this is it.” The glass-cased sunporch, where gutters had backed up above, was in a state of rot and ruin. No one had lived in the house for over a decade. In the kitchen, the ceiling had collapsed due to an upstairs bathroom leak. Far from perfect, the 1915 house was ideal for them: It was structurally sound, they liked the layout and it was in a location they loved. Built originally as a spec house for the Brooks Lumber

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Company — “I never thought I would buy a spec house,” jokes Catherine — the plans were designed by architect Raleigh James Hughes. But when Brooks Lumber completed construction, they veered from the blueprints’ square columns, opting for classic instead, leaving Hughes fuming. The home’s very first owner is listed as B.B. Tatum, who, with C.L. Stafford, and Ruth and W. C. Boren Jr., founded Tatum’s Inc., the entity that constructed Fisher Park’s pre-war apartments known as Cannon Court. Listed in August 2022, the house became officially theirs twoand-a-half weeks later, though it wouldn’t be until March 2025 that they moved in. But before it was theirs, it had been owned by generations of the same family for over 70 years. Although The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Cora Sawyer Scott, who purchased the house with her husband in 1951, renovated in the early 1950s. It was largely untouched after that. They got to work right away, first addressing the layout by opening one wall to add a doorway between the kitchen and the central room. What they found behind that wall surprised them. “We discovered that it had always been open,” says Catherine. Turns out, they had restored the original flow. Opening the wall allowed them to turn a former pantry into a powder room, accessible through an old, paneled door found at Preservation Greensboro’s Architectural Salvage. A black-and-gold, oval sign that hangs on it reads “WC” for wash closet. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Most of the original pine flooring throughout was in good shape — yet hidden underneath thin oak planks. Today, nail holes are visible, but, as Catherine says in an Instagram post from early 2025, “I just love how the lines tell the story of the oak floor that had been placed on top.” The kitchen and the library needed entirely new flooring, but the couple knew the kitchen would be one of the biggest undertakings. A letter the seller presented to the Birches reads, “The mystery of the third chimney!” Standing on the street, three chimneys are visible on the roofline, one seemingly leading into the kitchen. The letter went on to say that she’d heard her grandparents possibly plastered over it. O.Henry 71

With that in mind, the couple removed plaster, exposing brick and revealing — drumroll, please — “holes for a stove, like a stove pipe hole,” says Catherine. “Yep.” The exposed brick meant their renovation no longer met the Standards for Rehabilitation and, thus, the Birches could no longer apply for historic tax credits. Exposing the brick, it turned out, was “not in keeping with the historic character of the kitchen.” “One wall,” Jed says with a sigh. “One wall.” “I really like it,” says Catherine, ever the aesthete, who pushed for keeping the brick. “You know what I’d rather have?” quips Jed. In the end, Catherine won and continued leaning into utilitarian touches “because in a 1915 and 16 house, the kitchen would have been a very industrial space.” A freestanding island anchors the space, surrounded by custom oak cabinetry from the family business — where all new cabinetry in the home came from — topped with black soapstone. Upper cabinets with ribbed-glass doors and interior lighting keep the space bright and functional. “My design sense,” says Catherine, “is [using] things that would have been here, but in a more modern way.” A glass-doored, stainless-steel refrigerator sits on another exposed-brick wall. Catherine spied the Wolf subzero beauty at a trade-show — “one other problem with the job,” she quips. She showed Jed, thinking he’d talk her out of it, but he was all in. “We are a food-centered family,” he says, noting that they both like to cook. The walls are Catherine’s go-to white — White Flour by Sherwin-Williams, the same paint used in the central room and on the exterior — while the ceiling is coated in Farrow & Ball’s Dix Blue, “a relaxed green blue,” according to the brand’s website. On a small, wall-mounted shelf, an original piece by Winston-Salem artist Anna Jarrell adds a rainbow of color, though it’s been covered in glass to protect it from kitchen grease. Catherine purchased the painting off of Instagram during COVID. When everyone else was backyard farming and sourdough baking, Catherine says, “I bought more art than I’ve ever bought before.” Just off the kitchen is the once-formal dining room, though the space has morphed more into a casual hangout area. When the Birches purchased the home, its walls were covered in a red tonal-stripe, velvet-flocked wallpaper from the 1800s. In the 1940s, Cora scored rolls upon unused rolls, already nearly a century old, from a Hudson River mansion’s estate sale in Upstate New York. When she purchased the Florence Street home, up it went. Today, Catherine has the remaining unused rolls.

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Red paper came down, and a handprinted, saturated-pink paper from Zeuxis & Parrhasius called Liebesflügel — aka Wings of Love — went up. The paper’s design was originally created in the early 1900s, notes Catherine. Catherine had originally intended to use it in her primary closet, but Jed, also a big fan of color, asked, “Why are you going to put it in your closet?’” It was too magnificent to be hidden. The ceiling, painted in Farrow & Ball Rangwali, echoes the paper’s dusty rose. Corner cabinets Catherine believes were not original to the home were removed and donated to Architectural Salvage. In their place, Catherine and Jed built a banquette flanked by floorto-ceiling walnut cabinets. Under a window that they restored, a built-in buffet cabinet was added. The window had been previously covered up by plaster. Why would one cover a perfectly good source of natural light? According to a family member of the previous owner, Catherine says it was because “next door was a frat house and they started peeing off the porch.” She takes that tale with a grain of salt. The fireplace wall remains the same as it was in the 1950s. The mantel, not original to the house, was added by Cora. In fact, according to Cora’s descendants, none of the home’s four mantels are original and supposedly came from the circa 1870 Tyrell The Art & Soul of Greensboro

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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County home of her grandfather — Captain Richard Sawyer of the schooner Santa Maria — when it was torn down in the 1950s. “We tried to keep little parts of that history,” says Catherine. The grandest of the mantels, along with dentil molding, was added to the central room at that time, too. While this long space is intended as a living room, its seven doorways plus fireplace make layout a challenge. The Birches shifted their dining table into here to give them room for entertaining. The Midcentury-style table sits atop a rug featuring a kaleidoscope of color that mimics the palette of the artwork hanging over the mantel, a painting by Jerry Allen Brem that features pink shelves stuffed to the brim with books. Catherine found it at the Woodland Art Fair, just a few blocks from their Lexington home. Next to it sits a vintage, black-and-white train photograph. Others are scattered throughout the house. “I guess little boys growing up in Virginia are big on trains,” muses Catherine about Jed’s collection. Most are by famed train photographer O. Winston

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Link, whose railway work was shot primarily in Virginia. Flanking the fireplace, French double doors open to the now functional sunporch. Neighbors report that the room was once stacked with stuff, visible through its glass encasement. Once the guttering was revamped to provide proper drainage, they colorsoaked it in Dix Blue. The previously-rotted wooden flooring was replaced with terracotta tiles, popular in the 1910s, though Catherine opted for a modern twist on the classic. Against the one wall that is without windows, an antique mantel with built-in mirror has been mounted. It’s a family heirloom that originated in Catherine’s grandmother’s house, a little memento of her own journey toward historic preservation. In the back of the house sits a cozy library, bathed in Bancha. A small room that featured just two tall, narrow bookcases, it’s now surrounded in built-in shelving plus a window seat and bench. Above a striped trundle sofa hangs a landscape painting the Birches found on a visit back to Bluffton. “I wanted a piece The Art & Soul of Greensboro

of art that just reminds us of being there,” says Catherine. Custom pillows and a matching window shade were crafted by Asheboro design studio Cotton & Wood by Sherry, who made the drapes and cushions throughout the home. Catherine selected the fabric from textile designer Kristy Stafford: Marigold in gold, featuring splashes of chartreuse and pine plus touches of pink and lavender. Upstairs, the spacious primary bedroom allowed the couple to fit a king-sized bed for the first time. "I’m a very large person,” says Jed. “I like to spread out, then you throw [Eddie] in there and he takes up more of the bed than either her or I.” The Birches added arched detailing surrounding their botanical upholstered headboard — building “nightstands” into the wall to save space — to mimic the room’s arched closet and seating nook. In the nook, new cabinetry replaced the tired, dingy closet, The Art & Soul of Greensboro

providing Jed with the drawer space he craved. But none of that is what makes it Catherine’s favorite room. It’s the afternoon light that originally sold them. “It just gets this goldeny glow.” In a corner where a pitiful closet not even deep enough for a coat hanger sat, they created a walk-in closet that houses clothing as well as the washer and dryer. A dusty rose-glass fixture Catherine chose when she was just 4 years old lights it. When her parents were moving out of her childhood home, she grabbed it and it’s moved from house to house ever since. On the wall just outside the closet door hangs a collection of celestial faces formed in clay. Most were made by her artist cousin, Keri, of Earthstar Studio. What began life as a sleeping porch is now their en suite bathroom. While they had to replace the beadboard walls to make it work, they were able to preserve the beadboard ceiling, painted Dix O.Henry 75

Blue, of course. Under the corner windows, a soaking tub invites them to bask in the warm glow, while lush houseplants bring nature inside. On the vanity wall and inside the double-headed shower stall, Catherine chose Fireclay brick tile in a mossy green, so you’d feel “like you were showering outside.” Of all the rooms, she says, this small space took the most time. That's because Catherine designed the vanity and marble countertop, backsplash and ledge. “As small as it is,” she says, “I probably drew it 50 times.” A prized possession sits atop the countertop, an antique mirror she scored in Kentucky. Down the hall, the original, smaller bathroom was begging for a makeover. Terracotta Fireclay tiles in a geometric pattern were laid on the floor, while the new shower stall walls are lined in vertical white Fireclay tiles on the bottom, a soft blue similar in tone to Dix Blue above. Wallpaper samples adorn the wall. And the winner? “I think I’m gonna go with the horses,” Catherine says. The print, a collaboration between Backdrop and Schumacher, features sketches of jockeys atop horses in action, originally printed in 1957 by

76 O.Henry

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Schumacher. Of course, it pays homage to the couple’s Lexington days. One motivating factor in the Birches’ move to Greensboro was starting a family of their own, knowing they’d have the support of Catherine’s parents and brother. As their house neared the finish line, they put in their foster license application and prepared a bedroom, painting it two-thirds of the way up in a muted salmon (Pink Ground by Farrow & Ball), thinking it ideal for a children’s space. Shortly after acquiring their foster license in spring 2025, Catherine got a call about 3-week-old twins while Jed was traveling for work. “We didn’t have cribs, we didn’t have carseats,” she recalls. “We went to the Family Room and that helped a lot.” Now with identical lightwooden cribs, their room is a soft place to land for two tiny toddlers. From top to bottom, the Birches’ have put their own flourishes on their Fisher Park home, taking it well beyond its former glory. Of course, Catherine wonders — when the time comes — what future owners will think of what they’ve done. But, she says, “The story of the house, how a house has evolved, is what has always attracted me to preservation, how a building lives and how it continues keeping little parts of all that history.” And their chapter is just beginning. OH The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry 77

Thank you, fans! VISIT GSOHOPPERS.COM OR CALL 336.268.2255 VISIT GSOHOPPERS.COM OR CALL 336.268.2255

@GSOHoppers @GSOHoppers

A L M A N A C

September By Ashley Walshe

ere it comes, that slow, sweet kiss. That luscious ache. That dance that leaves you breathless. September is a fleeting lover. You know in your bones that she’ll leave you wanting, but you’re here for it. Agony and ecstasy are intertwined. The light has washed everything golden. In the garden, long-tailed skippers flit from ironweed to aster; butterfly pea to goldenrod; late-summer bloomers to early autumn wildflowers. Never mind that the zinnias are fading. Coneflower skeletons whisper of what’s to come. At the forest edge, muscadine vines drip with fruit, dark and plump. You pluck one, sun-warmed and pungent, and hold it in your palm. Can you feel the wild pulse of summer? Allow it to sync with your own beating heart. You don’t yet know that the whippoorwill has departed for warmer climes; that the mantis has released her mass of eggs and, in her final act as mother, swaddled them in a papier-mâché womb. The bees are humming tunes of natural wonders, and you’ve anchored yourself here in this sun-soaked moment. Indulge your senses. Press the warm grape to your eager lips. Sink your teeth into its tart, leathery skin. Taste the bitter punch, the earthy musk, the pleasant burst of sugary-sweetness. When you open your eyes — no, you hadn’t realized you’d closed them — a tidal wave of swallows casts a shadow on the quiet earth. This is the moment you remember: summer is slipping from sight. You reach for another muscadine, willing time to slow. Let the bitter punch linger as summer fades. Let the juicy pulp sweeten the sudden ache. Let it all be true at once.

All the months are crude experiments, out of which the perfect September is made. — Virginia Woolf

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Apple Season

Galas, Honeycrisps and Ginger Golds. Red and Golden Delicious. Cortlands and Crispins. Jonagolds. When life gives you ripe local apples by the bushel and peck, bust out the cinnamon for sauces, pies and chutneys. And when it comes to cooking with your favorite autumn fruit, keep in mind: Not all apples are created equal. As their names suggest, some stay firm and crisp (essential for baking), while others cook down quick for bright and smooth sauces (Golden Delicious, Cortland and Jonagold). Experiment with firm-and-soft combos to up your pie game, but save Red Delicious for snacks and fresh salads, as the heat will make flavorless mush of them.

Goodbye, Hello

Summer farewell is blooming in the pinelands and coastal plains. Bull elks are bugling in Cataloochee — a quiet valley nestled in our state’s Great Smokies. And somewhere between them — perhaps your own garden — a praying mantis has just devoured her mate. Such is the season of endings and beginnings. Farewell, summer. Welcome, wild and whistling autumn. OH O.Henry 79

The Arts

Season 44 Lynn Donovan Photography

C E LE B R ATI NG A RT IST IC DIR E C TOR A ND C O N D U C TO R WE LBOR N E . YO U N G ’ S FI NA L S E A S O N Jo i n u s f o r a l a n d ma rk s e a s o n hono r i n g 2 2 yea r s o f e x t ra o r d i n a r y a r ti s t r y a n d le a d e r s h i p.

Community. Excellence. Heart.

ENROLLING FOR FALL 2026!

Season & Single Tickets: (336) 887-3001 or ChoralArtsCollective.org John Rutter’s Requiem

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

JOIN US FOR ANOTHER AMAZING SEASON

september 16 at 7:30 p.m.

CYNTHIA ERIVO

Three-time Academy Award nominee and star of “Wicked,” she captivates audiences while serving as a fearless voice for women and people of color and setting new standards for diversity across the arts. Moderated by Dominick Amendum LJVM Coliseum

JOHNNY MILLER

STEPHANIE BERGER

october 21, 2026

KEN BURNS

Principal Series Sponsor

december 3, 2026

special add-on event

MICHAEL SCHUR

february 25, 2027

JOSÉ ANDRÉS

Single Tickets and Season Subscriptions ON SALE NOW facetoface.wfu.edu

april 20, 2027

JACK NICKLAUS

ART ROOTED IN COMMUNITY

The Public Art Endowment (PAE), an initiative of the Community Foundation of Greater Greensboro, is helping bring a large-scale tile mural by acclaimed artist Malene Barnett to the new Windsor Chavis Nocho Community Complex (WCNCC) in East Greensboro. Shaped by community voices, the artwork will draw inspiration from the stories and lived experiences of the neighborhood it was created to represent. The project is scheduled for completion in 2027.

Malene Djenaba Barnett Malene Barnett is an award-winning multidisciplinary artist, textile designer, and community builder whose work explores African and Caribbean cultural traditions through ceramics, pattern, and surface design. She is also the founder of the Black Artists + Designers Guild, a global platform created to support and elevate Black artists and designers.

A new way to champion public art is taking shape.

Scan to read more about the WCNCC.

The Public Art Endowment’s Trustee levels offer an opportunity to deepen your connection to Greensboro’s creative future while helping bring meaningful public art projects to life. Scan the QR code to discover what it means to become a Trustee.

Scan to become a trustee with PAE.

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Experience the homes, gardens, workshops, and Southern decorative art exhibits of Old Salem – North Carolina’s original living history museum

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The multitime GRAMMY®-winning folk, roots, and bluegrass artist blends recent hits with a timely song cycle about the womens’ suffrage movement. One night only.

OCT 10 | Reynolds Auditorium

GERSHWIN, RACHMANINOFF, & TRANE

THE NOTEBOOKS of LEONARDO DA VINCI

Saxophonist ROBERT YOUNG celebrates jazz icon John Coltrane, plus music from Porgy & Bess and Rachmaninoff’s fiery Symphonic Dances. SEP 26 & 27 | Concert Sponsor: Arbor Acres

The Symphony Chorus shines in a brilliant multimedia experience with chamber orchestra.

VIOLINS of HOPE

A Carolina Christmas: CIRQUE DE LA SYMPHONIE

Symphony musicians perform on surviving instruments of the Holocaust in music by Mendelssohn, Gershwin, Bernstein, and more. NOV 14 & 15 | Concert Sponsor: Novant Health

There’s no sound like home. Tickets on sale now at wssymphony.org/ohenry WIN S TO N SA L EM SYM P H O N Y

OCT 25

The amazing Cirque acrobats soar over the Symphony to usher in the holiday season. NOV 28 & 29

Season Presenting Sponsor

ART ON PAPER 2026 The 48th Exhibition August 29, 2026– April 18, 2027

Kirk Fanelly, I Had Not Seen Lindsey & Derek for Two Years, and I Painted Their Flowers (with the shears that almost cut off Lindsey’s finger), 2021. Inlaid cut paper on panel, 40 x 30 in. Courtesy of a private collection. © Kirk Fanelly

A beloved museum tradition, Art on Paper features the work of artists who demonstrate the breadth of ways in which one can elevate the humble medium of paper to extraordinary ends. From building a city scape out of discarded lottery tickets, to crafting imaginative armor from molded paper pulp, to exploring the anatomy of insects through careful cuts and folds, these artists harness paper’s seemingly infinite ability to take on different forms and explore a rich array of topics. PROGRAM HIGHLIGHTS October 1, 5:30pm: Artist Talk by Art on Paper and Falk Visiting Artist Clarence “Morgan” Morgan October 3, 11:30am: Art on Paper Spanish-Language Tour, in partnership with Casa Azul of Greensboro October 17, 2–4pm: Fall Open House 336.334.5770 | weatherspoonart.org

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SIMONE PORTER, violin

MASTERWORKS

MASTERWORKS — NOVEMBER 7 —

CHAMBER — NOVEMBER 8 —

POPS — NOVEMBER 10 —

— OCTOBER 3 —

Handel • Mozart Richter

Mozart • Biber Fauré

Rick Steves’ Europe: A Symphonic Journey

SYMPHONY OPENING NIGHT! Marquez • Boyer Tchaikovsky

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Riverlanding at Sandy Ridge

DEBRA REUTER-PIVETTA, flute FAMILY — DECEMBER 12 —

MASTERWORKS — JANUARY 30 —

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POPS — FEBRUARY 13 —

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Home Alone in Concert

The Planets + Star Wars

Bernadette Peters

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Brahms Clarinet Quintet

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MASTERWORKS — MAY 15 —

FAMILY — JUNE 12 —

The Music of Hans Zimmer

Debussy Kodaly • Dvorak

Popper • Kodaly Dohnanyi

Beethoven’s Ninth Choral Society of Greensboro

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince™

WellSpring

Pennybyrn at Maryfield

Masterworks, POPS, and Family concerts held at Tanger Center; Chamber concerts held at Virginia Somerville Sutton Theatre at Well Spring

TICKETS 336.335.5456, ext. 224; GreensboroSymphony.org; Ticketmaster.com

Auctioneers of Quality Objects & Collections The Leland Little team is pleased to assist you with buying or selling exceptional items, including fine jewelry and watches, fine art, modernism, antiques, Asian art, silver, and fine wine. Local Convenience. International Results. LelandLittle.com 919.644.1243 Hillsborough, NC NCFL#7452

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Shop Seagrove! Handmade Pottery Capital of the United States

Kick off Fall 2026 by joining Seagrove Potters in celebration of “American Craft Week” - October 3rd through October 11th at participating potters.

Find your perfect pottery pumpkin on the Potters’ Pumpkin Patch Trail along NC Pottery Highway 705 - September 19th through October 24th at participating potters.

Get a head start on your holiday shopping and immerse yourself in the world of handcrafted artistry at the Seagrove Pottery Event Weekend, Saturday & Sunday, November 21st & 22nd. It’s the perfect chance to find unique gifts, add to your own collection, and experience the rich tradition of Seagrove pottery in a festive, pre-holiday atmosphere.

HeartofNorthCarolina.com | 800-626-2672 Experience these upcoming events and explore and shop the more than 100 individual potters in the Seagrove area. Scan our QR Code and order your free 2026 Travel Guide and learn about all the events and shopping adventures available in Randolph County! ARCHDALE • ASHEBORO • FRANKLINVILLE • LIBERTY • RAMSEUR • RANDLEMAN • SEAGROVE • STALEY • TRINITY

GHM 100: Treasures. Legacies. Remix Sample our

Favrile vases and bowl by Louis Comfort Tiffany, 1900-1928, Gift of Caesar Cone, Martha Wright, and Janet Cone (1994.149.75-.77)

history with rarely seen items from the museum’s amazing collections. New treasures on view in the exhibition include Tiffany glass, an O. Henry drawing, and more.

Smithsonian Affiliate

Tuesday – Saturday 10 am – 5 pm Sunday 2–5 pm

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

130 Summit Avenue, Greensboro NC 336-373-2043 GreensboroHistory.org

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O.Henry 95

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96 O.Henry

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

ART LIVES HERE 2026 SILENT AUCTION SEPTEMBER 16-26 Join us at Revolution Mill for our 18th annual fundraiser celebration! Art Lives Here is one of the largest art auctions in NC and helps keep Hirsch Wellness classes free of charge for our cancer support community.

• Preview Party & “Sneak Peek”: Sept. 16, 6-8pm • Online Bidding: Sept. 16-26 • Gala Event: Sept. 26, 6-8pm Join Our Event Sponsors: Historic Revolution Mill • Diagnostic Radiology & Imaging • The Breast Center of Greensboro • JKnight Photography • King’s English • Triad Yoga Institute • Audio & Light Picasso Sponsors: Lenora & Rod Bruckdorfer • Mike & Katherine Weaver Rodin Sponsors: Sally B. Cone – in Memory of Bob Cone Monet Sponsors: Marjorie Benbow • Don & Anna Cunningham • Lynette S. & Michael R. Green Charitable Fund of Cumberland Community Foundation, Inc. – in Honor of EGFR lung cancer patients/survivors and Dr. Mohamed • Anne Herschler • Nancy & Dennis Quaintance • Patricia Vedder

To buy Gala tickets, become a Sponsor, RSVP for the Preview Party, and/or register to Bid Online, visit:

www.hirschwellnessnetwork.org/art-lives-here Hirsch Wellness Network 1250 Gallery, Revolution Mill, Greensboro, NC 27405

FALL in

LOVE with ARt in our clean, safe,

welcoming studio

Acrylics, watercolors, pottery, drawing, resin, metal tooling, and more We offer art for all ages, skill levels, and occasions! Weekly Art Classes for Kids and Adults Open Studio times Weekend Sip & Paint events Private ART Parties - birthdays, reunions, girls’ night, Bachelorettes

3709-B Battleground Avenue, Greensboro Elizabeth Welch 336.682.2966 • indigo-art-studio.com owner

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry 97

OUTINGS 2026

September

In need of a night out on the town? We’re highlighting some of our picks so you can immerse yourself in the growing and evolving Greensboro arts-and-culture scene. Before attending any event, it’s best to check times, costs, status and location. Although we conscientiously use the most accurate and up-to-date information, the world is subject to change and errors occur!

September 3 – 20

SEPTEMBER 3–20

SEPTEMBER 5 & 6

DEEP-FRIED FUN

SING THE BLUES

There’s nothing quite like the aroma of fresh funnel cakes and sizzling turkey legs to signal that the Central Carolina Fair is back in town. Gather your friends, grab your tickets and follow your nose to food you can only find at a fair — and that you can see again if you venture onto any of the carnival rides. From classic games and rides to delicious fair food, there’s something for everyone. Whether you’re chasing adrenaline or simply just craving your favorite deep-fried treats. General Admission: $7. Greensboro Complex, 2409 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.

Hit all the right notes at the John Coltrane International Jazz & Blues Festival, where the groove never misses a beat. Held, of course, in High Point, the city where legendary saxophonist John Coltrane first found his rhythm, this unforgettable celebration pays tribute to his lasting influence on jazz and the blues. Whether you’re a lifelong jazz aficionado or just raring to improvise your weekend plans, this festival is sure to strike a chord. See more information in this month’s Wandering Billy on page 43. Tickets: general admission, $94+; two-day tickets, $149. Oak Hollow Festival Park, 1841 Eastchester Drive, High Point. Info: coltranejazzfest.com.

98 O.Henry

Greensboro Pride Parade & Festival September 12

SEPTEMBER 10 START FROM SCRATCH, 11:30 a.m.–2 p.m

New to Greensboro? Consider this your official welcome mat. Whether you’ve recently unpacked moving boxes, started a new chapter or simply found yourself navigating a different season of life, the Greensboro Newcomers Club’s annual Kickoff Luncheon is where meeting new friends and eating The Art & Soul of Greensboro

OUTINGS

lunch are sandwiched together. After all, community starts with conversation — and maybe a shared dessert. Tickets: members $25; guests $30. Sedgefield Country Club, 3201 Forsyth Drive, Greensboro. Info: greensboroncnewcomersclub@gmail.com.

SEPTEMBER 11 A STAR IS BORN, 7:30 p.m

If you’ve been experiencing those country music blues, buckle up, cowboys and cowgirls. The chart-topping Tennessee band Lonestar shoots into town with its signature crossover-country blend, delivering an evening filled with fan favorites and feelgood melodies that will leave you nothing short of “Amazed.” Don’t let this concert slip through your lasso-loving fingers. After all, isn’t it time “Mr. Mom” got a night out? Tickets: $48+. High Point Theatre, 220 E. Commerce Ave., High Point. Info: highpointtheatre.com/events.

SEPTEMBER 12

Roy G. Biv. Celebrating its 20th anniversary, this beloved tradition marches down Elm Street with lively music, dazzling performers and a joyful display of love and community. At 11 a.m., when the parade wraps up, the celebration keeps rolling with show-stopping entertainment, local vendors, tempting eats, plus a booming crowd. Come for the parade and stay for the pride. Free. 208 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: impaqtgso.org/pride. FUN IN THE PARK, Noon–4 p.m

Bring your appetite, your curiosity and your comfortable sneakers. The High Point Arts Council’s Annual Day in the Park Arts Festival turns the park into a celebration of art with an especially jazzy reason to party: the late John Coltrane’s 100th birthday. With two stages of live entertainment, food trucks keeping you fueled, folklife exhibits and more than 30 artists and crafters, there’s plenty to explore. Who knows? Maybe you’ll leave with a handmade craft you didn’t know you needed. Free, RSVP recommended. High Point City Lake Park, 602 W. Main St., Jamestown. Info: highpointarts.org/dayinthepark.

SEPTEMBER 16–26

COLOR ME RAINBOW, 10 a.m.–7 p.m

ART LIVES HERE

Art has a way of leaving a lasting impres-

SEPTEMBER 15 TWO LEFT FEET WELCOME, 7:30–8:30 p.m

Got rhythm? Great. No rhythm? We can work with that. The Greensboro Scottish Country Dance Society invites you to hit the floor at its open house where you’ll learn the classical ballroom style Scottish dancing. Think of it as square dancing with a different accent. A night filled with friendly folks and, naturally, a bit of Scottish country dancing will leave you tuckered out — and with a smile. You may arrive as a beginner, but don’t be surprised if you leave ready for the next

COURTESY OF HIGH POINT ART COUNCIL

PAINTING BY DAVID NANCE

Don your brightest rainbow attire and bring your loudest cheers. The Greensboro Pride Parade & Festival is painting the town with

sion, especially when it gives back. Browse a gallery of artist-donated works and place your bids on the pieces that catch your eye, all while supporting Hirsch Wellness Healing Arts, a nonprofit that brings creative programming and connection to cancer patients. Preview the collection and start bidding on Sept. 16, then raise a glass at the gala from 6–8 p.m., Saturday, Sept. 26. Tickets: Free admission to exhibit; gala, $50. 1250 Gallery at Revolution Mill, 1250 Revolution Mill Drive, Suite 123, Greensboro. Info: hirschwellnessnetwork. org/art-lives-here.

“TERRA: A Landscape Survey” exhibition

High Point Arts Council’s Annual Day in the Park Arts Festival

September 16

September 12

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

O.Henry 99

OUTINGS

dance. Free. Guilford Grange, 4909 Guilford School Road, Greensboro. Info: gsoscds.org.

SEPTEMBER 16 BIG TALK, 5:30–6:30 p.m

What can art teach us about nature and the natural world? Visit the “TERRA: A Landscape Survey” exhibition, then stick around for a conversation that sheds light on the matter. Featured artists will engage in an in-gallery, roundtable discussion inspired by the exhibition. Unearth thoughtful conversation, fresh perspectives and plenty to ponder about the places we inhabit and the wild, wonderful world around us. Free. GreenHill Center for NC Art, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greenhillnc.org/exhibitions.

SEPTEMBER 17 IN THE LIMELIGHT, 7–9:30 p.m

A little deception has never been so entertaining. RhinoLeap serves up a theatrical feast with its sparkling production of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest.

This performance adds its own theatrical twist as eight actors arrive at the venue on the day of the performance armed with only the costumes on their backs and the props in their hands, transforming the stage into a shining kaleidoscope of clever twists, infectious laughs and a Wilde comedy worthy of an encore. Tickets: $32. The Back Table, 816 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: rhinoleap.com/live.

SEPTEMBER 18–20 A FESTIVAL FOR THE FOLKS

Rarin’ to pick a good time? The North Carolina Folk Festival is tuning up for three days of indie sounds in the heart of Greensboro. From Grammy winners hip-hop band The Roots and American bluegrass artist Molly Tuttle to finger style guitarist Yasmin Williams and indie-group Bandits on the Run, this celebration will be the highlight of your weekend. Heck, it is your whole weekend. So dust off your dancing shoes, gather your crew and hit the festival that gets everyone to sing along. Free. Downtown Greensboro. Info: ncfolkfestival.com.

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Phone:336-508-7159 928 Summit Ave, Greensboro, NC 27405

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

OUTINGS

POW WOW

Step into a celebration where stories, traditions and community take center stage. The Guilford Native American Association’s Annual Pow Wow invites guests to experience the richness of Native American culture through vibrant music and traditional art. Discover the history and heritage that have shaped Native American communities and join in a gathering where every drum-

beat, dance step and shared moment tells a tale. Tickets: $7+. Jaycee Park, 3802 Jaycee Park Drive, Greensboro. Info: guilfordnative. com/annual-pow-wow. RIDE THE BULL

Saddle up for a weekend that’s sure to have you stomping and cheering from the stands. The Carolina Cowboys are riding back into town for their annual PBR Cowboy Days, bringing that Carolina grit and glory fans can’t

get enough of. Fresh off their historic PBR Teams Championship win, the Cowboys are here to bring nothing less than their A-game — along with buckles and boots. Hold onto the reins for one wild ride. And if you don’t know what PBR stands for, you probably don’t own any fringy chaps. Tickets: Individual $22.65+; 3-day package $110.75+. First Horizon Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: gsocomplex.com/events.

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OUTINGS

September 23–27

SEPTEMBER 19 GLASSMAKIN’ & PUMPKIN PICKIN’, 9 a.m. –5 p.m

A glossy, shiny pumpkin, almost good enough to take a chomp out of. Starworks invites all pumpkin lovers and glass-blowing aficionados to pick a ripe, artisan-made pumpkin at its glass pumpkin patch opening day. Browse an array of colorful, sparkling glass pumpkins to bring home for your decor — no carving necessary. Shop to see if there’s one you take a particular shine to. Starworks, 100 Russell Drive, Star. Info: starworksnc.org/starworks-events.

block party. Refuel with yummy food, groovy live music and games. Block party, free; run, $30+. Morehead Park Trailhead, 475 Spring Garden St., Greensboro. Info: downtowngreenway.org/events. HUSKING HISTORY, 10 a.m.–4:30 p.m

Step into the past and discover how Native Americans and early Quaker settlers made the most of what nature provided. Explore the art of transforming simple, natural materials into toys, ornaments and treasured creations. Then try your hand at crafting your own corn husk doll. Guided by costumed interpreters, this hands-on experience turns history into a tradition you can take home. Free. Historical Park at High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.

SEPTEMBER 22–27 PULL THE PLUG ON LOVE

What does it mean to be human? That’s a question best answered by someone — or something — that isn’t. Maybe Happy Ending, the six-time Tony Award-winning musical — can you say “Best Musical”? — takes audiences on a clever, imaginative journey that explores connection, identity and what truly makes us who we are. Sparked by a chance encounter, this delightfully unexpected story proves that humanity isn’t defined by appearances. Prepare for a musical experience that’s anything but ordinary. Tickets: $46.35+. Steven Tanger Center, 300 N. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: tangercenter.com/events.

SEPTEMBER 23–27 LAUGH AROUND THE WORLD, 8:30 p.m

How about a five-day funny fest where the punchlines come fast and the laughs come even faster? The North Carolina Comedy Festival brings together a handpicked lineup of rising stars from across the state

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and beyond for an unforgettable and never regrettable time. Laugh responsibly. Tickets: $13.11+. The Idiot Box Comedy Club (plus other Triad venues), 503 N. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: idiotboxers.com. IN THE LONG RUN, 4–7 p.m

Lace up your running shoes and leash up your pups! Whether you’re chasing a new personal best in the 5K, taking a leisurely stroll through the 1-mile course or simply looking for a fun way to burn off energy with your crew, the Downtown Greenway Run & Block Party is everyone’s speed. After crossing the finish line with your running buds — two legged and four-legged — stick around after the finish line for a full-blown

SEPTEMBER 25 A WHOLE LOT OF GROOVIN’, 7:30 p.m

The Dave Fox Group joins forces with Jessica Mashburn and Evan Olson — aka The Olsons — to celebrate the legendary sound of Steve Miller, resulting in one feel-good night of music. You’ll head to “Swingtown” with a mix of rock, blues, jazz and funk, all brought to life by The Olsons’ powerhouse vocals. From laid-back grooves to full-on rock ’n’ roll, this show promises plenty of reasons to tap your toes, sing along and leave with a smile on your face. Tickets: $20+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

OUTINGS

September 26

SEPTEMBER 26 FIFTEENTH FIESTA, 5:30–7:30 p.m

Casa Azul, a local nonprofit that promotes Latin American art and culture, is throwing the ultimate quinceañera fiesta to celebrate 15 years of culture, creativity and community. Explore the beauty and significance of the quince in Latino culture through fashion, art, music and dance while local Latino artists and art mavens honor their heritage and connection. Free. Greensboro History Museum, 130 Summit Ave., Greensboro. Info: greensborohistory.org/events. ROCK ON, 7:30 p.m

A tribute to three legendary bands. One stage. And enough classic rock to keep your head bobbing all night. Magical Mystery Doors takes the music of The Beatles,

Led Zeppelin and The Doors and gives it a wonderfully unexpected twist, weaving songs from all three catalogs into mashups and medleys. With lights and visuals adding to the experience, this isn’t your typical tribute show. Bring your love of classic rock and prepare to hear some old favorites in a whole new way. Who knows — perhaps “All You Need Is a Whole Lotta Love” or “Here Comes the Sun to Light My Fire” is on the set list. Tickets: $39+. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Info: carolinatheatre.com/events.

hounds. The Doxie Derby is fighting breast cancer, one woof at a time. These pint-sized pups are ready to steal the spotlight as they race for bragging rights and strut their stuff in a show-stopping costume contest. With local vendors, family-friendly activities and plenty of four-legged — albeit short-legged — flair, this event is sure to be a barking good time. Every cheer, wag and wiener dog sprint helps fuel the fight against breast cancer. Tickets: $10+. First National Bank Field, 408 Bellemeade St., Greensboro. Info: earlier.org/ event-details/doxie-derby-2026. OH

SEPTEMBER 27

To submit an item for consideration, please email ohenrymagcalendar@gmail.com by the first of the month prior to the month of the event.

DOXIE DERBY, 12–3 p.m

Well, hot dog! Get ready for a paws-itively unforgettable day filled with your favorite lil’

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Living Information For Today

(L.I.F.T.) L.I.F.T. is a social support program that helps surviving spouses adjust to the loss of their partner. It gives participants the opportunity to socialize with others who share similar feelings and experiences. This program is both entertaining and educational, with speakers on a wide variety of topics. For more information on the L.I.F.T. program, please contact Hanes Lineberry Funeral Services at 336-272-5157.

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

GreenScene synerG Young Professional’s Teacher Appreciation Night at the Greensboro Grasshoppers First National Bank Field

Tuesday, May 5, 2026 Photographs by VanderVeen Photographers

Sherrelle Simons

Bryant Paylor

Sally Wiener

Quintasha Ebrahim

Crystal Schicker, Brittyn Schicker

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Timaiya, Ivy, Mcanus & Nick Stocks

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro

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GreenScene TAG Annual Gala and Art Auction

The Art Gallery at Congdon Yards

Friday, May 1, 2026 Photographs by Aesthetic Images Alisha Herbin, Karl Brustmeyer

Yolanda Grier

Iv & Leslie Culp, Anna Sloan Culp, Susan Culp

Dale Edwards

Michael Radziewicz & Jennifer Ponce

Nancy & Lin Amos

Joni & Warren Lackey

Mary Cullen & Trip Dixon

Susan Morris, Gayle Lambeth

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Agnes Preston-Brame

Wylie & Kate Hutchison, Claire and Jeff Horney

Leslie Moore, Braden & Will Newman

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

GreenScene Triad International Ballet’s Don Quixote Carolina Theatre

Wednesday, May 6, 2026 Jessica & Aiden Kirby

Linda Henson, Linda O’Briant, Becky Frazier

Becca & Barron Carter

Alexia Maas, Susannah Eichman

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Victoria Roach, Odra Onate

Tracy Sanchez, Elizabeth Nackley, Camille Andy

Ginah & Michael Soufia

Marcelo Guimaraes & Marcia Soutto Mayor, Lana Wolfe

Eva & Larry Dula

Garrett Howerton, Callie Mick

Gina Avvakoum, Jacqui Van Lier

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GreenScene GreenHill Center for NC Art’s Emerald Gala

Steven Tanger Center for Performing Arts

Monday, May 4, 2026 Photographs by Galen Draper (Models) and Jon Eric Johnson Photography (Attendees) Kamryn Purdie, Addie Lanier

Noah Weller

Ashley Vanore, Mary Ingram, Katie Cone, Ann Fry, Jackie Plemmons, Kristi Beeler, Christy Speight, Audrey Curran, Susan Veazey, Carlin Ludwig, Gina Alem, Kisha Kelley, and Kelli Coley

Kathy & Jim Gallucci

Kara Dunn

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Leonardo D. Ambrosio

Morgan Young

Summer Powell

Wilson Maloney, Katie Cone, Daniel Cone, Bradshaw Orrell

Maya Whitaker

Alston Ireland

Katlyn Williamson

Soumya Iyer, Marty Melenick, Julie Blacutt, Helen Richardson, Nicole East

Kelli & Garrison Coley

Lev MLO

John B. & Frannie Lee

Andrew Broadstreet

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

GreenScene O.Henry Magazine Kickoff to Summer Reading: Mary Kay Andrews

The Colonnade at Revolution Mill

Tuesday, June 2, 2026 Katie Tesh

Marian Lavelace, Mary Kay Andrews, Jane Berry

Mary Kay Andrews, Kimberly Daniels Taws, Cassie Bustamante

Kelly Grace, Debbie Johnson

The Art & Soul of Greensboro

Grace Ausley

Wanda Nelson, Sherri McGee, Kerrie Combs, Marla Parham, Debbie Boyan, Danette Harrison

Carla Newton, Susan McDonald

Lisa Anderson, Caroline St. Clair

Mary Kay Andrews, Katie Allen, Laura Jones

Angela Hodges, Elissa Brannon, Janice Wood

Di Jones, Beth Dunbar

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O.HENRY ENDING

A Hard Pass

By Joi Floyd

It is an unusually hot summer day, even by

North Carolina standards, when my stepdad, Gerald, finishes his latest project. He’s been working all summer on a go-cart. Hands sticky from my melting popsicle, I, a thrill-seeking 15-year-old, am ecstatic.

Both a mechanic and welder, he built it from scratch with a spare motor and leftover materials found under our carport. Then, he spray painted it teal to match our trampoline. When revved up, it makes a VROOM sound just like the sports cars he’s been fixing up the past few years. Ready to race around, my sister, Bre, and I eagerly hop in. Within seconds, all three of us are strapped in and pulling out of the driveway. We swerve around the neighborhood, wind blowing through our hair and nothing but the sound of the motor and an occasional happy scream from the three of us. Gerald spins the wheel effortlessly. His way of driving includes carefully gracing every turn with ease and he has no problem going a little over the speed limit to enhance the exciting squeals. “Who wants to drive next?” he asks as we pull back into the driveway. Bre jumps into the driver’s seat first. Her love for driving started early — obviously inherited from her car-loving birthfather, Gerald. And, just like him, she steers effortlessly. Swerving through the streets of the neighborhood like a professional NASCAR driver, she only steers toward home when we beg. “Your turn, Joi,” Gerald says. I take the wheel, though I don’t quite have my drivers license, and immediately drop the clutch, sending us zooming backwards down the driveway. “Brake!” he yells, trying to keep his calm after the sudden rush. And brake I do, sending us flying forward — thank God for seatbelts. Every

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move after is just as disastrous. Speeding feels too fast, yet braking hits too hard. And the turns? Well, I crashed us straight into the curb. In no time, I discover that the NASCAR gene is a case of nature versus nurture and I don’t have it. As I approach 16, I want nothing to do with getting my drivers license, but Gerald insists that it’ll be good for me. So, next thing I know, I’m in Driver’s Ed, scowling at the instructor. Only a few sharp turns and sudden brakes later, I manage to pass the class. But that only means I have to take the official test at the most hated place on Earth, the DMV. Luckily for me, but unluckily for most of the world, the COVID-19 pandemic means I don’t have to take the driving portion, but that doesn’t mean a guaranteed pass. In fact, I end up failing three times in a row — what even is a three-point turn? “You’ll get it next time,” my mom says as I came out of the DMV after each failure, tears rolling down my face — somehow I don’t think she fully believes it herself. I’m determined to make the fourth test my final. “Back again?” the DMV lady asks with a snicker as I march into the building, head held high. Indeed I was. Twenty minutes and four missed questions later, I pass. A cheesy grin grows across my face as the DMV lady snaps my picture for my license — and no, I will not be back again. Though I didn’t start as the strongest, I grow confident in my driving skills and knowledge every day. Who needs a NASCAR gene when you have perseverance and a willingness to learn? Now that I know the ins and outs of the road, maybe I can tackle parallel parking — or maybe not. OH Joi Floyd is assistant editor of O.Henry magazine. When not spending all her time lost in a book or catching up on a TV show, you’ll most likely find her outside wandering around in search of a stray cat to feed. The Art & Soul of Greensboro

ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR

Turns out, fourth time’s the charm

LIFE’S FUNNY

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The Art & Soul of Greensboro