Danger in the Garden

by   March 24, 2023 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

As an amateur watcher and feeder of birds, I have had my disagreements with squirrels, the rodents that many folks, unlike me, enjoy. However, after years of battle I have reached a reluctant peace with the varmints. Our bird feeders are as much “squirrel proof” as possible, and I begrudge any squirrel the seeds on the ground under the feeders. A tree rodent, in my view, the squirrels have their place in nature. Just not in my garden hogging the bird seed.

But last evening in the back garden was special, and not just because it was one of those early spring ones when budding life emerged from every shoot, limb, and blade. The dogwoods in our back garden offered early buds that would soon be white petals, and Carolina chickadees, blue jays, nuthatches, and titmice fed at the three feeders while the rufous-sided towhee shared ground morsels with the brown thrashers and a lone, grey squirrel. The returning pair of chickadees had already established a nest in their bird box fastened to the far dogwood, and we had seen the thrashers bringing nesting material to the large azalea beside the back gate. The camellia in the berm had been taken by a pair of cardinals for season residency; and we sat on our screen porch enjoying the end of a grand spring day watching the fading sunlight rest on the far shore and the animals eating from the three feeders.

Then every bird was gone. An uncomfortable silence descended on the garden, covering it like a shroud. Every bird had flown to a safe limb or rushed into one of the two azaleas for refuge. The squirrel hopped to the dogwood truck, alert with its head erect, but near the ground and observant-poised like a statue. Following the stare of the squirrel, I saw the invader. The resident Cooper’s hawk had lit in a dogwood in the berm, about thirty feet from the back feeder, bird bath, and poised squirrel. Not even the blue jays, who will attack a snake, stayed to battle with this intruder.

We watched the hawk, one who is a frequent visitor because of the bird feeders. It was a beautiful animal to us, but the birds had fled because their view of the hawk was different from ours. They saw death while we saw primeval beauty. We watched the squirrel, almost frozen to the tree trunk with its head erect, watching the cooper’s hawk across the fence. We witnessed a scene of nature’s way as the hawk glided to the top fence rail within a few feet of the squirrel who then wisely bounded into the thick foliage of the azalea. The hawk bounded to the ground and began hopping in the bird awkward walk toward the thick bush as if to peer inside it for a meal. It was then that the squirrel came out of the azalea and took a stance next to the dogwood.

If you watch nature enough, even in a small back garden like ours, you will soon enough see death. It may come from a predator, an accidental falling from a nest, or any other result that I have come to realize is “Nature’s beautiful way.” We sat frozen in the safety of our screen porch as the squirrel faced the attacker. Then, as if scripted, the squirrel lept at the cooper’s hawk, who made one hop backward. The squirrel lunged again, and the death threat turned and flew away to other hunting grounds.

All the grey squirrels that frequent our back garden look alike, so the brave heart one will remain anonymous. However, since witnessing such an act—whether foolish or brave—I have become more tolerant of them. While I still have some issues with their antics, even I cannot deny the act of that lone, grey squirrel against the Cooper’s hawk.  

In nature, death happens so that life may continue. Even a dead limb of one of our longleaf pine trees provides food and shelter for all kinds of creatures. In nature death is part of life. But many humans seem unable to come to any type of accord with death. That, in itself, is a form of early death because a fear or denial of the way of all living things, to paraphrase King David, is death at an early age. One should always strive to see things as they are, even if it means acknowledging having underestimated the spirit of squirrels.

The 100 County Adventure

by   March 23, 2023 with No Comments

By David Freeze

It was just two weeks ago when we ran the first story about my planned visit to all 100 N.C. county seats. I have been excited about it since and began the journey this past Tuesday by exploring the first four.

After my own run at home and a quick shower, I drove to Albemarle, county seat of Stanly County and did a 1.54-mile run down First Street and back up Second Street that ended at the YMCA. The park across the street was donated by Charles Cannon of Cannon Mills fame. More familiar with Albemarle than the other towns I would see later, I wasn’t surprised by much. Albemarle is coming alive with new and refurbished apartments and a bold new park in the works. There is a new wood bat baseball team starting this summer called the Wampus Cats plus a new business that encourages throwing axes and hatchets at targets.

My first breakfast on this series of adventures was paid for by Stanly County Commissioner Peter Asciutto. He arranged for me to eat at the Goody Shop Café, in business since 1919. I met Hugh Wainwright and Lynn Russell, and we talked while they made my egg and cheese sandwich and waited on customers. Hugh, the owner, and Lynn love the café and their customers. It’s all take-out now, allowing Hugh and Lynn more free time and more fun while working.

Hugh showed me the Hearne house behind his business where court was held on the lawn and in the house from 1841 to 1941.

Next came Troy, the Montgomery County seat and a major part of the North Carolina’s “Gold Region.” I ran 1.55 miles on the “Streets of Gold.” When the streets of the town were first paved in 1922, residents found traces of gold in the gravel used for the subsurface. Troy is in the heart of the Uwharrie National Forrest, named by President Kennedy in 1961. Historical markers are notable throughout the town. Andy Griffith’s wife, Barbara, came from Troy and they returned often to visit her family. Her dad was the county school superintendent.

Bill Clinton visited Troy for a town hall meeting at the elementary school in 1994. The most prominent building in downtown is the Hotel Troy, first built in 1909 as a four-story hospital. It also housed a drug store, jewelry story, clothing store and grocery market before being converted to the hotel in 1920s.

Carthage was my next stop, Moore County’s seat. I ran 1.52 miles while dodging trucks carrying logs and lumber. The Carthage courthouse sits right on the top of the hill in the center of town, with traffic heading east on one side and west on the other. Tobacco was long important to the economy here and  a few remaining tobacco storage facilities are now used for other things.

The farther east I went, more spectacular murals dominated the towns. Carthage resident James R. McConnell, highly decorated WWI aviator for the Lafayette Escadrille, died in the war and had the most impressive mural in Carthage. Another well done mural noted the Tyson and Jones Buggy Company, one of Carthage’s major employers from 1850-1929. A Tyson and Jones buggy was considered well-built and a certain status symbol.

Andrew Johnson, 17th President and one-time resident, was honored by Moore County citizens for his calming influence during the bitter days of Civil War reconstruction.

My final visit of the day was Sanford, county seat of Lee County, where I did 1.63 miles. Early on, I was fortunate to find the future visitor center and Downtown Sanford Executive Director Kelli Laudate. Her office is in a renovated portion of the old depot. Kelli and I talked running and the strong wind blowing that afternoon in Sanford. She gave me information on the town and told me especially about the Temple Theatre, built in 1925, and an Elvis show, “All Shook Up,” coming for two weeks in April. I plan to return for the show and hopefully visit a few other counties at the same time.

Just outside Kelli’s office was the No. 12 steam locomotive and railroad house museum in Depot Park. The museum wasn’t open, although the house is the oldest in Sanford, built in 1872. Sanford was born in 1871 and was once the only N.C. town serving four rail lines. I got that spectacular courthouse photo I was looking for in the 1908 Lee County Courthouse and also the town hall building.

About a dozen murals already grace the town, one honoring the Tobacco State League Baseball Champions 1946,1947 and 1948, the Sanford Spinners. Another mural was being painted that same afternoon. An app tells the story of each mural.

One final thought-provoking thing that I saw on my last block was a giant wall-sized chalkboard with this statement and about 60 blanks,“Before I die, I want to __.” I had to read them all.

A grand day resulted in 6.13 miles in four county seats! Ninety-six more to go and I hope they are this much fun! 

That Can’t Be Good

by   March 21, 2023 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

We have three grown daughters scattered about making their little corners of the world better. During a recent weekend the one living nearby was at a beach retreat with ladies from her church. I checked the weather app and was happy to see she was enjoying 73 degrees and sunshine. Wow. How perfect. Our middle daughter had plans to visit the farm of a friend who is into Permaculture… whatever the heck that is. I had to Goggle it. She too had great weather for the Permaculturing adventure. Woohoo!


However, as I checked the weather for our poor firstborn living in the Midwest, she was experiencing something called “frozen fog.” I have never heard of such a thing. I wondered if she were to drive through it, would it scratch her car.
That can’t be good.


Later that day I decided to make homemade banana pudding. You know, the kind mama made by cooking egg yolks. Since the local daughter has a gold mine in her backyard [she raises chickens and therefore has eggs] we have a generous portion of the motherlode. After adding four yolks, a little flour and sugar to a warm pot on the stove, I stepped away to grab the milk. Literally two steps to the fridge and two steps back. Of course there’s no telling how long I peered into the coldbox trying to remember why I was there. Upon returning to the stove I discovered darkness hovered upon the face of the deep. I snatched the pot from the flame but it was eternally too late. Scorched globs of gunk greeted me and I knew.


That would not be good.


So I started over. Different pot, fresh ingredients, lower temp and constant stirring would surely lend a good result. Mama would be proud. Later after it cooled and thickened, I relished the sweet pudding over bananas while I watched the birds outside my window. Naturally I dribbled pudding on the reading glasses hooked in the front of my shirt. As I tried to remove it, the pudding smeared all over the left lens. Okay, so I may have licked it off. But even after dousing my glasses in water, things were still foggy. But at least it was not frozen fog. Because that would surely not be good.


Ahhh sweet Saturday! A day filled with sunshine, scorched pudding and fog. I’ve come to realize; even with the good, the bad and the ugly… my life is pretty good. It’s hard sometimes to recognize just how good we have it. Scripture says it like this.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” -1 Corinthians 13:12


Soon the fog will lift. Pain will disappear and the truth will be evident. In the grand scope of things, life really is pretty darn good.

Time to go Home

by   March 20, 2023 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

He was restless

– A man had two sons, and the younger one said to his father, “Give me what belongs to me.”

The father gave him his share of the inheritance.

He was rebellious

— He left home and wasted it with riotous living. He was reckless 

— He spent it all. He met reality

— There was a famine in the land. He began to be in want. He reached bottom

— He became a citizen of that country and had to feed swine. He had a revelation

— He came to himself. He remembered 

— How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough to spare and I am starving? He recognized his sin

— I will say, Father, I have sinned against heaven and you. He was remorseful

— I am not worthy to be your son. He responded

— He got up and went to his father. He was received

— When he was a great way off, his father saw him coming and had compassion and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. He repented

— Father, I have sinned and I’m not worthy to be called your son. He was reinstated

— The father told the servants to bring out the best robe and put it on him. He was reconciled 

— To put a ring on his hand. He was re-established

— To put shoes on his feet. He was redeemed

— To bring the fatted calf. Let us eat and be merry, for my son was dead and is alive again. He was lost, but is now found. Are we away from home? We can come to ourselves.

Charles Spurgeon explains that when the father saw him, he saw who he was, where he had been and what he would be soon. The father is looking for us.

When we come home, he will kiss us “much.” As referenced in translations from the 1800s, Spurgeon explained “kissing us much” as meaning:

• much love

• much forgiveness

• much restoration • much joy

• much comfort

• much assurance

• much communion In his sermon, ‘Many Kisses for Returning Sinners,’ the emotion from that moment can be clearly visualized:

Perhaps the young man looked down on his foul garments, and said, “Oh the past, my father, the past!”

The father would kiss him again, as if to say, “Never mind the past.”

“But the present, my father, the present, what a dreadful state I am in!” and with another kiss would come the answer, “Never mind the present, my boy. I am content to have you as you are. I love you.”

“Oh, but father, the future, the future. What if it happens again?”

Then, would come another kiss, and the father would say, “I will see to the future, my son.” There is some good stuff, I mean God stuff, in Luke 15. Is it time to go home?

Tap your heels together three times and repeat after me: There’s no place like home.

There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.

(Just kidding. I was wanting to see if you were paying attention. It’s actually easier than that.)

Let’s try again — time to go home? 

Come to yourself. Get up. Go to the Father. While you are a long way off, He will see you because He’s been looking for you and He will have compassion on you, and He will run, fall on your neck, and kiss you much.

And that is exactly what He did for me and has done, or will do, for you.

Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.

Friendship

by   March 18, 2023 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            Our church has a men’s group that meets every other week which we call the Fight Club. The intent of the group is to encourage and challenge each other in our walk with Jesus. Choosing to walk with Jesus is not easy, but it is easy to walk away from Him. Our desire is to help each other deal with the challenges that we face in daily life and to remind ourselves that we are not alone in our fight.

            The other night in our meeting the topic of friendship with God came up. When I was lying in bed that night thinking about our discussion, I thought about my best friend, Jay. Jay and I worked together at Elkin High School. We ate lunch together every day. We have been to each other’s home and helped with numerous projects. He helped me move once…that’s friendship.      We always had fun together and were often up to something if you saw us together. We loved to laugh and to get others to laugh, too. One of the best parts about our friendship was the fact that there were no pretenses. We talked openly and honestly with each other. There was no judgement. We accepted each other even if we thought differently about some topics. I have missed my best friend since he passed.

            I feel very blessed because I have a number of very good friends. It is great to spend time with my friends because the conversation flows so smoothly and effortlessly. I always hate for the time to end and look forward to the next time we can see each other.

            I started thinking about Jesus and His disciples. Obviously when Jesus was in human form He could not be friends with everyone in the world. He limited Himself and lived within His limits. We know Jesus had friends like Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. His closest friendships were with His disciples. Even among His disciples, some were closer to Jesus than others.

            The Bible tells us that Jesus was closest to Peter, James, and John. They made up His inner circle. This doesn’t mean that Jesus wasn’t close to the other disciples, it just means he was closer to these three. I have been thinking about that and wondering why He developed closer relationships with some over others.

            I have been considering Judas, who betrayed Jesus. Did Jesus want to be close to Judas? Yes, the door was open to him because he was among the twelve disciples. But Judas was hiding that he was stealing from the ministry to benefit himself. I think Jesus knew he was doing it and tried to draw him back. Judas could not let Jesus see this dark side. He kept his sin hidden. It was that choice not to repent that kept him from a closer walk with Jesus and ultimately led to his betrayal of Jesus.

            I love Peter, who was one of Jesus’ closest friends. He was always blowing it. He made plenty of mistakes and often said the wrong thing. But he still remained one of Jesus’ closest allies. Why would Jesus let someone who made so many mistakes into His inner circle? Peter lived a repentant and broken life. He turned to Jesus time and again asking for forgiveness and help to be the man of God that Jesus saw and believed he could be.

            I believe the invitation is open to you and me. Jesus wants to develop a friendship with us but the ball is in our court. It’s up to us. We get to choose how close we get to Jesus. Like Peter, it doesn’t matter how many mistakes we make along the way. It depends on our heart, our willingness to repent when we make wrong choices, and our obedience to Him. The door is open through prayer, fellowship with Him, worship, and spending time reading and meditating on His Word.  We can connect as deeply as the disciples and become His friends.

            I want to encourage you to live like Peter, James, and John and become friends with God. Don’t try to hide things from God, rather, expose them and find the forgiveness and peace that you need. Go beyond reading your Bible and think about what you have read, asking God to reveal Himself to you. Pray and talk to Him like He is your best friend. Drop any pretense and be real with God. I promise if you draw near to Him, He will draw near to you. This friendship will last beyond this lifetime into eternity. Make the investment and become God’s friend.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

Carpe Diem

by   March 17, 2023 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

The above Latin phrase, made famous by the American movie Dead Poet’s Society, was first used by the poet Horace. Its use by Horace is most accurately translated as “Pluck the day,” and after the movie it became popular in American culture and before long it was printed on tee shirts, caps, and mugs. However, the word “pluck”, for whatever reason, proved too much for American sensibilities and the phrase became translated as “Seize the day.” (Such a refinement) Given a coffee mug with that inscription by the head of school where I worked, like the other administrators, I understood the phrase, as a rising professional, to mean that I was to grab each day and shake it out making the most of it as opportunities arose. If opportunities did not arise to pluck, then I was to create them, then pluck.  Seizing the day meant that I, in my mid-40’s, was in charge. Anything that was accomplished in my realm of the school was directly related to either my ideas or actions or both. It was all up to  me, and I lived several years following that belief in my personal and  professional  life.

Thinking of the two interpretations of Horace’s phrase, I recall the saying attributed to  Mark Twain, that the difference  between the right word and almost the right word, is the difference between lightening and the lightening bug. Pluck and seize when viewed as verbs are much alike, but are they the same?  When we seize do we pluck?

One of my mother’s favorite “chores” was to  sweep the front porch, steps, and sidewalk of her mill house. She did  not rush to arrive to this or rush in its doing. She would sweep the  wooden porch some, stop and look around her front yard, sweep some more and adjust the chairs and plants. Satisfied with the porch’s condition, she moved on to the three concrete steps and stepping down carefully, she cleaned each below her as she went. Stopping at the juncture of the steps and sidewalk, she would survey the goings-on of Juniper Street and then begin sweeping the private sidewalk that led to public one. Arriving at that junction, she turned, chatted with any neighbor near or a passer-bye, then carrying her broom like a proud knight, she went back inside of her house to finish any cleaning left undone. My mother, a girl of the South Carolina Sandhills, grew up in a time when front yards of sand were swept of their loose sand to make a  clean place to entertain company under a large shade tree. Sometimes, as Maggie did in Alice Walker’s short story, Everyday Use, people would make a design using the loose sand on the edge of the cleared area. Thus, a “living room” space was created for the company. There was no sand on my mother’s sidewalk, steps, or porch, but her daily sweeping of it made certain that no visitor would trip on a acorn or small limb, and its cleanliness invited folks to come on in.

Today we have leaf blowers, those noisy machines that will clean the area that took my mother thirty minutes or so to  sweep in just a few minutes. Time saved, and all that dirt blown away into the yard or gutter. Time saved to be used inside cleaning or to be used on another household chore. Time saved is money saved. If my mother had had a leaf blower to use out front, she would have been more efficient and more productive. If my mother had had a leaf blower, she would have been “seizing the day” and producing more.

Yet, even had my mother been given a leaf blower, one she could have used, I know that she would have just left it gathering dust in her garage. She, like so many of her peers, was not interested in being more productive or efficient or cost effective. She swept her front porch, steps, and sidewalk with her straw broom because she enjoyed the doing of that act. She enjoyed observing the activity on her street and its people. She enjoyed the result of her labor. In my mind, she was plucking. Not the day but a small piece of it. She understood that one cannot grab and hold an entire day, but one could pluck a moment. She plucked it, enjoyed it, and continued on. Like so many, she had faith in the words, “Give us this day….”

A lesson I finally learned at half-past fifty.

Bits and Pieces

by   March 16, 2023 with No Comments

By David Freeze

The next race in the area is a new one with a strong message. Scheduled for next Saturday, March 11, is the Jace Landon TBI Aftercare Awareness 5K at Knox Middle School. Serving as the race director is Jace’s mother, Nichole Steadman. She said, “This race means a lot to me personally because I lost my son Jace due to a traumatic brain injury. He was in a serious car accident in December of 2020 where he suffered a severe TBI and subsequently took his life on Mother’s Day 2022. Too many people with TBIs suffer in silence. March is Brain Injury Awareness Month, and this gives me the opportunity to spread awareness throughout our community about the importance of TBI aftercare.”

Runners and walkers of all abilities are invited for the 9am 5K start. A fun run for kids 12 and under will follow on the Knox track after the 5K. Commemorative dri-fit shirts, plenty of awards and refreshments will be part of Nichole’s effort to share more information about traumatic brain injury. Registration is open at runsignup.com.

The Forum of Salisbury has been a big part of fitness opportunities in Rowan County for 25 years. Their anniversary was Wednesday, March 1. The business opened on March 1, 1998, as Gold’s Gym and became The Forum in 2006. The Forum has strong community ties to numerous non-profits, most notably Rowan Helping Ministries and Prevent Child Abuse Rowan. The Butterball 5K, Salisbury’s Thanksgiving morning holiday tradition, annually draws the largest 5K participation in Salisbury. The Forum also hosts the Resolution Run 5K on New Year’s Day.

GM Rayna Gardner said, “We rarely say no to any local organization. We sponsor every high school for one sport or another and every yearbook. We do smaller stuff for the middle schools and elementary schools. Right now, with the school system, we provide $1000 a month in cash and memberships for The Forum and SoFul to their staff members of the month (there are two of them a month). We do a bazillion golf tournaments and so forth and so on. We buy enough BBQ chicken fundraiser plates to feed our whole staff many times over. Matt has always been super about giving back to the community that has been so good to him!”

The Forum has had the same owners (Marsh and Steve Safrit), the same Childcare Manager and Personal Training Manager for all of its 25 years. Gardner said they are proud to have helped over 30,000 people from our area in their individual fitness journeys.

The Salisbury Rowan Runners and Salisbury Parks and Recreation kick off the spring Beginning Runners Class on Tuesday, March 14, at the Salisbury PD at 6 p.m. The class meets on Tuesdays for eight weeks and will culminate with a graduation ceremony at this year’s Bare Bones 5K on May 6 at Knox Middle School.

My own journey across all 100 counties nearly kicked off this past Thursday, but one day this coming week I’ll begin to visit all 100 counties over the next year. I will drive to the county seat, then run 1½ miles in each one and take time to learn a little more about the history of the county and county seat. As usual on my cycling adventures, I’ll take a few photos and hopefully meet some interesting people. I am anticipating being hungry quite a bit, so I hope to visit some unique local business for food. Might be a restaurant, a convenience store or maybe even a donut shop. And I am looking for the historic courthouses that many of the county seats still have. My journey, so my rules. The Post will publish a map showing my progress.

Look for more information on the BRC classes and the Jace Landon 5K, along with other upcoming events at www.salisburyrowanrunners.org

Committing to Where we are Celebrated

by   March 15, 2023 with No Comments

By Ed Traut

Matthew 10:14 If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet when you leave that home or town.

  • It was Jesus’s instruction that we focus on those that are receptive to what we share.
  • We have a message within us and we ought to continually want to give it to those who want to receive it.  Often we don’t know until we give it who will receive.
  • If there is a constant resistance we don’t need to keep pursuing it if they have heard it we can just move on to the next person that will receive it not wasting our energy on those that are not really interested in the gospel or yet ready for it.

Prayer:  Lord I commit myself to You today.  I ask Holy Spirit that You will guide me and make me effective in being a witness and a soul winner.  Lead me to someone today to witness and/or to lead them to the thrown of grace.  I am Yours Lord.  Amen.  

Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

Big Ol’ Bucket

by   March 14, 2023 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

We used to have the best doctor. When David’s A1C registered high, she gave him a plan to lower it. Of course the plan came with a stern warning about his consumption of grits and other Southern manna. But her advice worked. Even better, she treated him like a son and praised his efforts each time he had bloodwork. She was so encouraging that his blood pressure, which usually shot through the roof like a rocket during a visit, came down to somewhat normal. But then she committed the unpardonable.


Our beloved Mrs. Caroline Adams retired. Dang encouraging grandma. Oh how we miss her. Life will never be the same.
As you surely know by now, I am a delicate flower. Currently I’m going through another health issue on top of the mystery illness I deal with. Of course the older I get the more the crazy symptoms pile on. In fact I told the Lord this morning that I am tired of asking for help and getting none. I decided to just quit asking. Then the story in the Daily Bread devotional spoke of the eerie quiet in a Russian orphanage where the babies learn not to cry because they know that no help will come. What a terribly sad commentary. Just as I finished reading the article the Lord reminded me of this verse.

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in Your bottle.” -Psalm 56:8


Apparently Somebody does care.


Then I wondered how large that bottle must be. Since I’m a big ol’ crybaby, the Lord probably uses a five gallon bucket… or three. So let’s do this.


The next time we get to wondering if anybody cares at all, let’s practice this. Let’s go ahead and cry out to the Lord and know He loves us enough to collect all our tears. His Son also cried out. He even wondered why God had forsaken Him.
I bet His bucket is even bigger than mine.

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