Judging a Book by Its Cover

And now there are two. Ms. Dee Ann Meets Murder has been joined by Life and Death in Narrow Creek. I see postings of books all the time next to a cup of coffee, so that’s why my morning shot of 100% Colombian Folgers is in this picture.

Can you tell by the similar covers that the two books are part of a series? Well, it’ll be a series when I finish the third book. Right now, I guess it’s more accurate to call my new novel a sequel.

What went into designing these book covers? You may recall the action of Ms. Dee Ann Meets Murder takes place in 1979-1980. Dee Ann is 25 years old, and in the first part of the book describes her wardrobe as consisting of jeans, tee’s, and flannel shirts. Her dressy clothes are corduroy or polyester pants and knit tops.

So why is she wearing a conservative blue dress on the cover? After her visit to the Narrow Creek Ladies’ Society meeting where she realizes she’s underdressed, Dee Ann decides she needs a makeover. The picture shows her in a dress much like the one she sews to wear to work at the Ladies’ Society Arts and Crafts Bazaar, where, incidentally, this time she’s overdressed.

Vintage 70s fast easy Simplicity Jiffy 6079 sewing pattern image 1

Dee Ann’s hairstyle as pictured on the book’s cover is also a result of her makeover. She visits Veronica, her hairdresser, and asks for a curly perm so she can look like Olivia Newton-John in the last scene of Grease.


The blood spatters on the cover (those red dots) allude to the shooting death of the town’s playboy, Gary Whitt. The Welcome to Narrow Creek sign that Dee Ann and Baby Heather are standing in front of is meant not only for Dee Ann but the reader as well, since this first book introduces the Narrow Creek Series.

For Life and Death in Narrow Creek, I supplied the illustrator with a description of Dee Ann’s house behind her landlords’. This description actually came from the beginning of Chapter 2 in Ms. Dee Ann Meets Murder, where Dee Ann sees her new home for the first time.

“Our landlords, Floyd and Josephine Powell, lived in the grand house on the right side of the driveway…. I was quite impressed by their stately red-brick, colonial-style home, complete with third-floor dormers. Eight multi-paned windows framed by pewter-grey shutters punctuated the front of the house on the first and second stories.

A matching version of the house stood maybe a hundred feet or so behind the Powells’ residence. This version didn’t have any dormers or shutters, though, and it was a good deal smaller. Also, where the Powells’ house featured a massive double-entrance door and a big brick porch with Chippendale rail, the bottom floor of this building had one ordinary front door and a tiny, unadorned stoop. Simple four-pane windows–two on the second floor aligned over two on the first–reflected the bright April sunshine. It was nothing fancy, but at least our new home didn’t appear to be a dump. Joe had informed me we’d be living on the second floor since the Powells used the ground floor for storage.”

The cover designer got it right, don’t you think?

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No Creepy Graveyards Here

It’s almost Halloween, so graveyards are supposed to be spooky, right? Not to me. I find old cemeteries to be full of history, not haunts, especially in a town like Charleston, South Carolina.

On a recent October weekend, I wandered the downtown streets of Market and Meeting, entertaining myself while my husband and daughter were attending a business conference. I happened upon the cemetery at the Circular Congregational Church, established in 1681.

Can you guess why this church has circular as part of its name?

The old church itself is intriguing, but on a fine fall day, I was more interested in the surrounding graveyard. A sign invited me in, and I took a stroll. The “circular” architecture was even more apparent from behind the church. The old tombstones drew me like a magnet. I couldn’t wait to read the inscriptions.

I discovered the final resting place of the first mayor of Charleston, Richard Hutson. Look at the year he graduated Princeton! Note his many accomplishments: he was part of the founding body of the College of Charleston, a member of the South Carolina General Assembly from 1772-1794, served in the militia and imprisoned by the British during the Revolutionary War–well, you can keep reading.

I love the archaic wording at the top: “Herein Lie The Remains Of .”

You may have to enlarge the picture to read the inscriptions on the tombstones pictured below, especially the first. I’ll save you the time. The smaller one is inscribed with the name of Thomas Lehre, who died “in the 65th year of his age” in 1858.

His widow, Jane Carolina Lehre, has the larger tombstone (hmm) slightly in front of his. She died in 1892, “Aged 85 years and 7 months” (how’s that for being exact).

I especially like the inscription at the bottom of her tombstone:

“My flesh shall slumber in the ground. ‘Til the last trumpet’s sound; Then burst the bands with sweet surprise, and in my Savior’s image rise.”

That pretty much sums it up, doesn’t it?

How peaceful to “slumber” in such a cemetery, honored by a lovely tombstone under an old tree, its huge arms draped with Spanish moss. We should all be so fortunate (when the time comes, of course).

The Spanish moss on the trees in the graveyard deserves an extra picture.

The sight of a spire not too far away caused me to explore further. Around the corner, I found St. Philip’s Church, whose sign declared its denomination as Anglican and the year of establishment as 1680. Interesting. I thought the Anglican church became the Episcopal Church in America, but here’s one that didn’t (or reverted?).

St. Philip’s also has a cemetery open to the public. In fact, I met a tour group leaving as I entered. I wondered whether someone famous was buried within this historic graveyard.

I didn’t have to look long before I found the rather elaborate resting place of John C. Calhoun. I recognized his name but couldn’t remember until I read it on his tombstone that he had served as a vice-president of the United States (from 1825 to 1832, I learned when I googled). His tombstone/vault/crypt certainly indicates he was somebody important.

Accompanied by my daughter, I spent my afternoon in Charleston shopping on King Street. Not everyone shares my love of history, especially the kind found in old graveyards.

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Sailing with the Pirates

My husband and I both graduated from East Carolina University, and for most of our married lives have bought football season tickets. For years, we purchased a package of five, taking our three daughters, encouraging them to become faithful little Pirates.

Two of the three grew up and graduated from ECU. One chose the other Carolina.

Times have changed, but my husband and I are still choosing to be in the stands, cheering on the Pirates in person. We’re happy to be back in the stadium after last year’s Covid shutdown. We’ve long since traded in our family pack of five cheap-seat tickets for two on the alumni side. These days our seats come with backs on them, and we’re surrounded by more “mature,” shall we say, fans.

We’ve also got a good view of the Pirate head that blows out the purple smoke, followed by the team running out on the field.

Purple and gold (yellow is acceptable) are the school colors. I never seem to get the memo, but there’s an apparel color suggestion for each game. Standing in line at the gate, I soon figured out purple was what fans were supposed to wear at this last home game.

That day, I had on my gold (yellow) Polo shirt with the monogrammed Pirate logo and what I call my Pirate shoes, worn only to warm fall football games, which is always nearly every game.

We beat Tulane that day, 52-29. It was a great day to be a Pirate, especially there in the stadium. You can watch a game at home on TV, but there’s nothing like being in the stands when your team enters the red zone at your end of the field. I find myself on my feet, screaming for a touchdown.

The football team doesn’t always win, of course, especially in recent years, but the band never loses. My husband goes down at halftime to meet his cousin and hash over what’s happened so far, but I stay and watch the Marching Pirates before hitting the concession stand.

Purple and gold may be the colors of the Pirates, but our fourth-quarter flags, brought out before the beginning of the last quarter, are a deep red. I love the “No Quarter” Pirate phrase, just one part of all things Pirate.

Yes, there’s a lot that can be done with a Pirate theme. The students sit in an area called The Boneyard, there’s a film clip from Pirates of the Caribbean that plays on the Jumbotron telling us to “hoist the colors” when we raise our Pirate flag at the beginning of the game, our mascot is dressed as–what else, a Pirate,–you get the idea.

My girls may be grown and gone, but there’s a little Pirate fan who sits in front of me every game. Maybe he’ll go from being in the stands to being in a classroom on campus one day. He seems to love being a Pirate right now; as his cape says, he’s “Bad to the Bone.”

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Part Four: Romania

The last country I visited on my recent trip to Eastern Europe was Romania. Most of my time there was spent in its capital, Bucharest, a lovely city sometimes called “Little Paris.” Some of the city’s ornate buildings help explain this nickname.

In addition to French-inspired architecture, another reason Bucharest has been dubbed “Little Paris” goes back to around 1900 when it became fashionable for citizens to greet each other in French and wear the latest French fashions. All things French became a kind of status symbol, I guess.

The fascination with French culture can certainly be seen in some of the architecture that has survived two world wars and communist dictatorships.

Bucharest even has its own Triumphal Arch, modeled after the famous Arc de Triomphe in Paris. The picture my husband took from our tour bus doesn’t do it justice, but just like its counterpart in Paris, this monument is surrounded by a roundabout that bustles with traffic.

The elaborate architecture was also evident in a restaurant we visited in the old Lipscani district of Bucharest. This place featured arched doorways, a mosaic-tiled floor, paintings on the walls, balconies, tall ceilings–and a violinist to serenade lunch patrons. I believe we were told the restaurant had once been a church.

Speaking of churches, Romania’s predominant religion is Eastern Orthodox with more than 81% of Romanians identifying themselves as Orthodox Christians. Many of the churches are stunningly beautiful. This Eastern Orthodox Church features a vaulted ceiling with every inch of wall space used to depict scenes from the Bible or paintings of saints. Many of the early church members were illiterate, so these elaborately decorated churches helped them learn their Bible stories.

A feature of the Orthodox religion is the prevalence of icons, sacred images painted on wooden panels. I bought this icon from a shop in Bucharest. I’m Methodist, not Eastern Orthodox, but I believe a picture of Mary and Joseph on a bedside table works for any Christian.

The People’s Palace, Romania’s parliament building, was built during the years of communism, but is surprisingly as ornate as the French-inspired architecture of the city. And it’s big; in fact, it’s the second largest office building in the world.

Construction began under the rule of Nicolae Ceausescu, the last communist ruler of Romania. Although he was tried for crimes against his country and, with his wife, immediately executed on Christmas Day in 1989, work on the People’s Palace continued, and this grand structure was finished eight years after Ceausescu’s death.

Revolution Square in Bucharest is full of symbolism. The square is named for the beginning of the uprising which led to the overthrow of the brutal communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu. In early December 1989, over 100,000 people gathered there. Authorities expected the crowd to applaud Ceausescu’s speech condemning Romanians who were beginning to protest communist rule.

Instead, people began booing and jeering. The scene was caught uncensored on the state-run national television station. The cat was out of the bag, with Romanians across the country seeing the level of support for ending communism.

Ceausescu gave this speech from a balcony of the building in the picture, then called the Central Committee of the Communist Party. The obelisk in the center, adorned with something that looks like a pierced hornet’s nest, has been erected since the revolution and is officially called the Monument of Rebirth.

I can’t talk about Romania without mentioning vampires, particularly Count Dracula of Transylvania. The area of Romania known as Transylvania is real, and unfortunately, about a four-hour, one-way drive from Bucharest, making it a very long day trip. We didn’t have a day to book such a trip to see the castle that supposedly was the setting for Bram Stoker’s famous novel Dracula.

What we could do, though, was book a local excursion to see where Vlad the Impaler is buried. Who is Vlad the Impaler? Though Transylvania is a real place, Count Dracula wasn’t a real person/vampire. Bram Stoker made him up.

However, the Count is based on Vlad the Impaler, a Romanian lord who stopped the invasion of the Ottoman Empire towards Western Europe. Despite the fact that the man was vicious–he impaled his enemies, leaving them to die a slow, painful death–he is considered a national Romanian hero to this day. His bloodthirsty style inspired Bram Stoker to use him as a model for Count Dracula.

Incidentally, Vlad the Impaler is buried without his head, which was separated from his body when he was killed and delivered to his enemies in Constantinople. Maybe an example of you live by the sword, you die by the sword.

Due to the coronavirus, this trip to Eastern Europe came with hassles. I had to take three Covid tests, two saliva and one very unpleasant nasal version. Each time, I held my breath, praying I wouldn’t test positive and be quarantined somewhere far from home. Also, I endured endless hours of wearing a mask both while sitting in airports for layovers as well as when flying.

Still, the trip was worth the inconveniences. I saw a part of the world that had been off-limits to Americans most of my life. I learned about life there during World War II, the years of communism, and now the period of adjusting to capitalism.

I came home happy to be an American.

Banner, America, Flag, Usa, United States

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Part Three: Bulgaria

If you’d asked me before my trip to Eastern Europe what I knew about the small country of Bulgaria, I would have been hard pressed to come up with anything. It wasn’t a place that had ever blipped on my radar. I hadn’t yet seen its stunning, 200 million-year-old rock formations.

Our first day in the country was spent traveling to Belogradchik, a small town at the foothills of the Balkan Mountains. We hiked to the top of a path which gave us an up-close view of these somewhat eerie stones.

There are many legends associated with the Belogradchik rock formations. Several involve variations on the theme of a damsel in distress who is saved from some dire fate by being turned into stone along with her beloved and her persecutor. The same fate for all?

Not sure who is supposed to be the damsel, the beloved, and the persecutor in the formations below.

Riding through the red rock countryside of Bulgaria to reach the location of these rock formations gave me a glimpse of how life was during the years of communist rule. In a word, bleak.

Look at these apartment buildings thrown up to house citizens relocated from small villages to work in Soviet-era factories.

Since the fall of communism, many factories have been abandoned. People are poor in Bulgaria, and sadly, government corruption has been rampant. In fact, one of our tour guides said there is currently no central government in place.

The population is shrinking, now that emigration to more prosperous countries is possible.

But there are bright spots in Bulgaria. This street in a small town shows life. There’s even a sign in English for a General Broker.

Here’s another sign containing some English meant to capture the tourist dollar. (It worked.)

We were treated to a Bulgarian lunch with a wonderful salad (lots of feta), warm pita bread, and a hearty stew. Dessert was a yogurt concoction. Yes, the food seemed a lot like Greek cuisine. Bulgaria and Greece aren’t that far from each other and share a common heritage going back to the Medieval Ages. And both were part of the Ottoman Empire for nearly five centuries.

Lively folk dancers entertained us during lunch. Although traveling abroad came with three required Covid tests and lots of mask-wearing, I was glad that my presence helped these performers to work again.

Bulgaria marked the end of our time on the riverboat. We disembarked on the morning of day eight of our trip and boarded a bus bound for a two-night stay in Bucharest, which, unlike Budapest, thankfully, was open for tourists.

In my next post, the last of this series on my trip to Eastern Europe, I’ll talk about what I saw in Bucharest, the capital of Romania.

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Part Two: Serbia

Serbia, once part of Yugoslavia (like Croatia), was the second destination of my recent trip to Eastern Europe. To make up for not touring Budapest due to Covid restrictions, our tour company gave us an extra day in this country. That time was spent visiting the city of Novi Sad.

Never heard of it? Me either until this trip, although it’s the second largest city in the country, after Belgrade. Here’s a view of Novi Sad from the top of an old fortress we climbed there.

That’s our riverboat, Uniworld’s River Duchess.

An afternoon stroll in a park near Novi Sad took us to an interesting monument at the Sloboda Memorial Site. The figure of the woman on top with the raised hands is inviting the people of Serbia to an uprising. The soldiers are armed partisans.

The sign there has an English translation that reads “the memorial site is dedicated to the fallen soldiers of [the] National Liberation War, from 1941, to 1945.” What we Americans call World War II was a national struggle for Serbians to rid themselves of control by the Axis Powers, specifically the Germans.

We spent our second day in Serbia in its capital, Belgrade. Check out this street sign. I think the language on the first lines is Serbian, the official national language, although other languages spoken in the country include Hungarian, Romanian, Slovak, Croatian, Bosnian, Romani, Bulgarian, Macedonian, and a few more.

Whew! As in many European countries I’ve visited, it’s not unusual for people to speak three or four languages. Several of our tour guides did. And I struggle to learn basic Spanish.

Notice, too, some English in the second lines. Accommodating the American tourists?

A highlight of visiting Belgrade was touring the royal palace there, officially called the Karadjordjevic Dynasty Palace. Built in the 1920s and ’30s, the palace is not on par with such showplaces as Versailles, but it still has touches of grandeur like the ceiling and walls in this modern media room.

As you can see, masks were required for indoor tours.

Serbia has not had a king since the beginning of World War II when Peter II fled Nazi occupation, and then faced with post-war communism, never returned. Times are somewhat different now. Peter’s son, Crown Prince Alexander, and his family live in the palace. He’s not officially recognized as king but rather acts as an ambassador for the country.

He was doing just that when he and his wife, Princess Katherine, came out on the steps of the palace to speak to our group. Interesting tidbit: the Prince is a cousin to the British royal family, and Queen Elizabeth is his godmother.

Part of our last day in Serbia was spent touring the Golubac Fortress. This place is super old, dating back to the 1300s. It was built at the point where the Danube is the widest and begins running into the gorge of the Karpathian mountains. This was an excellent strategic point, and bordering countries fought to capture the fortress during the 14th and 15th centuries.

Golubac is exactly how I expected a medieval fortress to look.

Our final destination in Serbia was the Lepenski Vir Archaeological Park. The discovery of this large Stone Age settlement in the early 1960s was a big deal in the world of archeology. Lepenski Vir is believed to have been one of the most highly developed prehistoric cultures.

I’d always thought of prehistoric people as being small in stature, but our guide said some of the Lepenski Vir Stone Age people were over six feet tall. This skeleton does look long.

Leaving Serbia, we sailed on the Danube through the Iron Gates, an 83-mile-long stretch of scenic gorges between the Carpathian and Balkan mountains. We were on our way to Bulgaria, which I’ll tell you about in my next post.

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Part One: From Budapest to Bucharest

My ten-day, Highlights of Eastern Europe trip was to begin in Budapest, the capital of Hungary. It’s a beautiful city, a bridge between Western and Eastern Europe, I was told by a few acquaintances who’d been lucky enough to have once visited there.

I wasn’t that fortunate. Five days before the trip was to begin, my husband and I received an urgent email from our travel agency. Due to COVID concerns, Hungary was closed to tourists. Uniworld, our cruise company, would not be offering the Budapest program. And if we flew into the airport there, we had to have plans for “transiting out of the country within 24 hours.”

Yikes! Not only was I disappointed that one of the major attractions of my trip was now off the agenda, but our group of eight was also scheduled to fly into Budapest a day early and had reserved hotel rooms in the city.

In a last-minute scramble, we rebooked to end our flight in Vienna, spending our pre-cruise night there. Vienna is a lovely city, too, but we’d all been there before. It hadn’t been the plan.

We hired two drivers to pick up the eight of us at our Vienna hotel the next morning and transport us straight to our riverboat docked in Budapest, about a three-hour drive.

The only view I had of this lovely old city was from the Danube as we set sail early that evening. Here’s the famous Hungarian Parliament, the country’s largest building, the one I’d hoped to tour. Doesn’t it look like a castle?

Budapest is actually divided by the Danube into two sections: Buda and Pest. Bridges connect the two parts of the city.

Our revised riverboat cruise agenda took us for the first full day to Croatia. Leaving the boat and boarding a bus, we visited Osijek, the fourth-largest city in Croatia. As with many European cities, there was a church that simply must be seen.

This is the Osijeck Co-Cathedral of St. Peter and Paul. Although titled a cathedral and the biggest structure in the city, it’s deemed only a parish church. It’s Catholic, not Orthodox, which is an important distinction in Eastern Europe. (More about Catholic versus Orthodox later.)

Pretty fancy for a parish church in my book.

What’s European about this picture? The sidewalk cafe, the bicyclists, the majestic church. What’s not? The Coca-Cola logo on the umbrellas.

Here’s the ornate interior of the Osijek Co-Cathedral. There are 40 stained-glass windows and many decorative frescoes. Masses take place here throughout the week. What a beautiful place to worship.

Visiting Croatia, we heard a lot about what the citizens there call the Homeland War, also known as the Croatian War of Independence. This conflict took place from 1991-1995 when Croat forces declared independence from Yugoslavia. Serbs living in Croatia opposed the idea and wanted to be in a state with Serbia within Yugoslavia. That’s a simple explanation for what became an ethnic war as the country of Yugoslavia dissolved not too many years after the death of its famous dictator Tito.

About 800 people were killed in the shelling of Osijek which took place from August 1991-June 1992. Bullet holes can still be seen in the buildings there.

On a lighter note, our group enjoyed an “exclusive home-hosted lunch” in a small village in eastern Croatia. The main course was baked chicken, much like we’d have here at home. What you see pictured (in addition to my husband) is the first course, a vegetable soup, that again, tasted similar to what we are accustomed to eating. What was distinctly different was the bottle of the local brew, a fruit brandy called rakija. The custom is to have a tumbler of this high-octane stuff before eating. Ah, no thanks. You can see my full glass to the right of my water.

Our cook spoke little English but we had an interpreter who sat with us at our meal. This young woman explained that the area where we were in eastern Croatia had been overrun by Serbs during the Homeland War. The residents had to flee and were unable to return to their ravaged homes until years later. She painted the Serbs as the aggressors during the war.

As I noted earlier, there is also a religious conflict at play here as well. Croats are Roman Catholic; Serbs are Eastern Orthodox. Roman Catholics look to the Pope in Rome as their spiritual leader whereas Orthodox consider the patriarch in Constantinople as their ultimate authority. There are other theological differences as well, but basically, Catholics look to the West while Orthodox look to the East.

I wasn’t that familiar with the differences between these two Christian faiths until this trip, but I learned faith and politics are intertwined in these countries.

In my next post, I’ll talk about Serbia, our destination after Croatia.

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A Gardener’s Tale in the Dog Days of Summer

It’s easy for me to feel lethargic, even defeated, during these hot and humid dog days of summer. One ninety-degree-plus day rolls into another. If there’s no rain for a day or two and I forget to water the plants the sprinkler system doesn’t hit, I may go outside and find dead flowers.

I hadn’t yet had a chance to re-pot these black-eyed Susans I got for half-price at Allen’s Nursery before they shriveled in their tiny containers. Sad little plants, I hardly knew ye.

Water or no water, by this point in the summer, some plants have simply run their course. I had a good harvest, but by late July, this particular type of cucumber is done. Nothing left but dead vines.

Then there’s the hydrangea that had beautiful blooms last year but was accidentally pruned early this summer at the wrong time. Nice foliage, but just one flower, now past its prime, that escaped the shears.

Like life itself, a summer yard and garden can be disappointing. But also, I remind myself, for all that dies too soon, doesn’t bloom, or simply runs its course, there are other plants that still provide beauty or produce.

The crepe myrtles, for example, have been stunning this year. Nature must have supplied just the right amount of water and sunshine for optimal blooms. I have several glorious trees–some pink, some lavender, some white–in my yard.

And the red begonias I planted in May in the front yard are still flourishing, looking more brilliant every day. They’re in an area hit by the sprinkler system, and if past years are any indication, they’ll last until frost.

I planted two types of cucumbers, and surprisingly, the variety at the edge of my shrubs is still alive and producing. I plant cucumbers in this same spot every year, ignoring the principle of crop rotation, and so far, I’m having better luck with my shrub bed cucumbers than with the hills I cultivated in my small designated garden spot (see dead vines above).

Again, the moral of my gardening tale is this: not everything turns out the way we want it to or lasts as long as we’d like. Try to overlook what fails, though, and dwell on all that’s good. For every shriveled black-eyed Susan, there are plenty of beautifully blooming begonias.

And in my case, it also helps that no matter how hot it gets outside during these dog days of summer, it’s always a delicious 75 degrees indoors.

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My Rocky Mount Life: Part Ten

I’ve been out and about the last couple of weeks celebrating the Fourth of July in particular and summer in general, but I’m back, as promised, with the final installment of reasons why I enjoy my Rocky Mount life. Here are the final five.

#1. A Bit of Country

Rocky Mount is anything but a concrete jungle. Within the city limits, it’s easy to find fields and woods. I pass by this pastoral scene every time I travel my section of Halifax Road. An old country girl like me enjoys seeing a dusty dirt path circling a peanut field. And nothing says Eastern North Carolina like a handmade sign hawking pecans for sale.

Country scenes within the city are a place to rest my eyes.

#2. Wesleyan College

Speaking of pastoral settings, there’s not a prettier campus than the one at Rocky Mount’s Wesleyan College. Founded in 1956, the school is Methodist-affiliated and allows Rocky Mount to be called a college town.

According to the website ncwc.edu, in 2015, North Carolina Wesleyan was recognized as the fastest growing private college in North Carolina by NC Independent Colleges & Universities. Pretty impressive.

One of my favorite parts of campus is the Bellemonte House. This lovely plantation home, dating to 1817, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The house used to be visible from Highway 301 but in 2016 was moved to its present location on the back side of campus.

The Bellemonte House operates as a bed and breakfast and is open for special functions. I once went to a lovely Christmas tea party there.

#3. Machaven

While I’m on the topic of historic homes, let me sing praises for Machaven. Located on Grace Street in the Villa Place neighborhood, Machaven was built in 1907-1908. Years ago, it was restored and served as a venue for dining and special events. I remember attending parties there in the 1990’s. One, a Junior Guild fundraiser, was held in the winter, with huge enclosed, heated tents set up on the grounds. My youngest sister hosted her wedding reception at Machaven in 1991. A favorite family anecdote involves my nephew, then a toddler, falling in a koi pond on the front lawn.

MacHaven was dormant for several years, but–good news–is again open for business. The house and grounds look grand. Who wouldn’t want a 2021 wedding reception here?

#4. Battle Park

I’ve mentioned Battle Park before when I talked about Rocky Mount’s superb walking trail. But I’ve been encouraged by a couple of you readers, and rightly so, to say more about the park.

Battle Park constitutes the hub of the Tar River Trail. I’m a walker, so I appreciate the shaded paths and the views of the river. During COVID, a stroll in Battle Park became my alternate Sunday morning church service.

But Battle Park is more than just a walker’s venue. I’ve seen cyclists in Battle Park and families with picnics. There’s a boat landing, and my husband has many childhood memories of fishing for shad at night in the Tar River at Battle Park. If you walk far enough into the park, you’ll encounter a wooden suspension bridge, one of the largest in America.

I love the history of Battle Park, too. Rocky Mount’s first post office was located here, and the story goes that Rocky Mount got its name from the “rocky mounds” that populate the park. And of course, the historic Rocky Mount Mills is located adjacent to the park, just on the other side of the Tar River.

Battle Park is a beautiful oasis off the busy Falls Road leading to and from downtown Rocky Mount.

#5. Almand’s Drug Store

With a Walgreens or CVS on many a street corner, I appreciate anybody who still has a family-owned drug store. Almand’s, with one location at Westridge Shopping Center and one on Tarboro Street, has been around for many, many years. I remember going to the old downtown Almand’s as a child when drug stores used to serve lunch. My mother would order hot dogs for our tribe (there were six of us!).

Today, I visit Almand’s Drug at Westridge. Husband and wife Richard and Anjum Kos bought the business a few years ago and are continuing the drug store’s tradition of personal service for Rocky Mount residents. Their personal service for me extended to their graciously agreeing to stock my novel Ms. Dee Ann Meets Murder, giving locals a chance to buy the book without using Amazon!

Some, but not all, good things must come to an end. Although this is my last installment of the series highlighting why I enjoy my Rocky Mount life, I’m sure there are more examples of what’s good about my, and possibly your, hometown. Thanks for joining me in my celebration.

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My Rocky Mount Life: Part Nine

I’m back yet again with five more reasons why life is good in my hometown of Rocky Mount, North Carolina. Some of these I’ve thought of myself, but a couple have been suggested by alert readers who are fellow Rocky Mount residents. Thanks, y’all!

#1. Golf Courses

Our fair city has not one, not two, but three golf courses within the city limits. The oldest is at Benvenue Country Club, founded in 1922. That date means next year is the club’s 100th anniversary. Benvenue features an 18-hole golf course designed by Donald Ross, a famous course architect. The club also has an active tennis program, an awesome swimming pool, and a Tudor-style clubhouse with a well-run restaurant.

My husband enjoys the golf course, I love the pool and the restaurant (especially the wine dinners), and my daughter’s family are fans of the tennis courts and the pool.

I know, I know. Benvenue isn’t free. It’s a country club requiring monthly dues. But, believe me, those dues are a bargain compared to what you’d pay for a similar club in Raleigh or Charlotte.

Northgreen Country Club is another option for golfers in Rocky Mount. My family lived in Northgreen Village, the neighborhood surrounding the golf course, for 16 years. My girls grew up walking to the pool after lunch on summer days, participating in the kids’ golf and tennis programs, and best of all, being on the champion Northgreen swim team. It takes a village to raise a child, and Northgreen Village was mine. Today, the pool and tennis courts are closed, but the golf course is still active.

Another beautiful golf course in Rocky Mount can be found near Wesleyan College at Belmont Lake. I’ve never played my very bad game of golf at the Belmont Lake Golf Club, but I read online that “The golf course has five sets of tees on each hole, playing 7,085 yards from the back tees and 4,900 yards from the front tees.” Using those front tees might be what I need to make a double bogey (a good score for me)!

#2. Pizza Inn

“For pizza out, it’s Pizza Inn.” Okay, now I’ve planted that jingle in your head for the rest of the day. The only way you can get rid of it is to go eat the Pizza Inn buffet. Get it all: the salad, the vegetable soup, the pizza, the pasta, and especially, that chocolate chip dessert pizza.

Rocky Mount’s Pizza Inn is an institution in my book. When my out-of-town daughters come home, that’s where they want to eat lunch. We have so many memories of celebratory post-swim meet dinners, last day of school lunches, and birthday parties held at the Pizza Inn.

Today, by popular request, I take another generation to the PI, our nickname for Rocky Mount’s Pizza Inn.

#3. UNC Nash Hospital

UNC Nash Hospital will always be Nash General to me. Two of my three daughters were born there when the hospital went by that name. The hospital was a lot smaller then, without all the wonderful specialized care centers added in recent years. Rocky Mount is fortunate to have such a fine medical facility. I’m lucky to live less than three miles away.

I hope I never need it, but there’s comfort in knowing Nash General’s emergency room is only minutes from my Rocky Mount home.

#4. Stonewall Manor

Rocky Mount has plenty of old homes; after all, we’re a historic town! One of the finest is no doubt Stonewall Manor. It’s the grand old home that can be seen by folks flying down Highway 64.

Built around 1830 by a wealthy planter, the house was once part of a large plantation. After passing through several families and years of decline, Stonewall was purchased in 1916 by Rocky Mount Mills. In 1975, the Nash County Historical Association became involved and a group called Friends of Stonewall Manor has been responsible for its restoration.

I realize my picture of Stonewall looks a little crooked. There was a no trespassing sign, so I had to lean over a gate to get my photo. Didn’t want to break any rules!

The house is open periodically for tours and can be rented for special events. My oldest daughter’s wedding reception was held there in 2002, and I have a cherished photograph of my extended family taken on the steps of Stonewall Manor.

 #5. UEC Theatres

The movies! I haven’t been since COVID, but I hear Rocky Mount’s movie theater is again open. I wonder if that $5.00 all-day Tuesday ticket deal is back. I’ll have to check soon.

I know long-time Rocky Mount folks wax nostalgic about the old downtown theaters that we once had, but just as chain supermarkets have replaced the mom and pop grocery stores, so have the multiplexes taken over the one-screen cinemas.

I’m thankful that we have a theater within our city limits. Not every town does. And I do like that it’s in what used to be the old Lowe’s Home Improvement building. Nice repurposing there.

Time for a drum roll here…. The next installment of My Rocky Mount Life will be the tenth and last in the series. Be sure to check in to see what the final five favorites will be.






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