Newspapers / The Pilot (Southern Pines, … / Nov. 18, 1949, edition 2 / Page 1
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Southern Pines Welcomes The New Season To The Sandhills ■LOT Southern Pines Welcomes The New Season To The Sandhills SPECIAL ISSUE November 1949 Souihern Pines. N. C. SPECIAL ISSUE Over Blazing Fall Colors Or Springtime’s Shining Do^^wood, the Green Pines Tower Southern Pines’ Beautiful Homes In Gardened Settings Line the Avenues, or Are Glimpsed Down Winding Roads "Springtime Village" Seen On Garden Tour The grou^id^ of eight of South ern Pines’ beautiful hornes were opened to th e public last April 5 and 6, as part of thi§, community’s first participation in the annual statewide Garden tour. With a new Garden club in op eration here, the tour had inter ested local sponsorship, and the response of the public in general was seen when some 150 visitors came enthusiastically to view the local gardens. The tour was timed for the period when the dogwood and azalea, both of which are seen at their most beautiful here in the Sandhills, were at the height of their bloom, and the whole town, in fact, was one great' gar den. The fact that only eight homes opened their garden gates at this time was not occasioned by a lack of more than that number. “We have plenty to save for otlier tours,” said Mrs. Ernest L. - Ives, chairman. “We can have tour after tour and show visitors some thing different every year. They’ll find nowhere else a town so^ love ly in spring as this one.” "Springtime Village" And truly Southern Pines can be known as the “springtime vil lage.” The “season” to which its existence is due, and on which, in the main, it depends, is called the “winter season” but extends from October to May, with March and April as the most exciting months. In these months the Sandhills resorts are crowded with guests; hotels are filled, and many of the reservations have been made months in advance; horse shows, gymkhanas, golf events follow each other in swift succession; fashion shows, parties and balls add sparkle and grace. And above all—nature does her most intoxicating best by these gardened villages. Route of Tour The April Garden tour started at the Shaw House, the quaint 100-year-old cottage so charming- Iv restored by the Moore County Historical association, operated as a tea room from Thanksgiving to April. The route was arranged to carry guests along some of the loveliest roads and prettiest drives of the section, giving them glimpses of many beautiful estates and woodlands drifted with dogwood. Seen on the tour were the gardens of the Kenneth Trous- Over The Garden Wall ■ i ■ 1 ■ ■ ® * ^ ii » Home of the W. D. Campbells on Connecticut Avenue extension, where a miracle of planting has been done in a few short years. (Photo by Hemmer) Writer Almet Jenks Writes Of Writers With A Question Paint Hill Farm: Carolina Homestead Reading with joy Alfnet Jenks’ pungent words on the Writers’ Colony, with a ques- ticn mark after it, we realize that at least the Pilot is fol lowing in a well-worn path. We also “prodded,” and found, as our illustrious pre decessor did, that it worked. Almet Jenks is one of the crew who responded so* gal lantly with the good piece printed below. Incidentally, he carefully left himself out of the list of Pilot columnists who were prodded into writ ing for Nelson Hyde. We wel come back to these columns this shcrt story writer, (Sat- EvePost and others) and for mer whip to the Moore Coun ty Hounds. We don’t know which title he’d prefer to have come first. . . remem bering how hard he and Fireman used to gallop, per haps neither cccupation would class as a “diversion.” WRITERS' COLONY? By Almet Jenks One of the elder salesmen of Brooks Brothers (of Brooklyn, too, perhaps--which is graved on my heart also), noting the address “Southern Binds,” used invari ably to ask “And how is Jim Byrd? And how is Struthers Bcyt?”, which reminds us that our town was once known as— still is, no doubt—a Writers’ Col ony. by their daughter, Mrs. Ray Mc Mullen, and her husband; the D. W. Winkelman home on beauti ful Massachusetts avenue; past the elementary school, itself one of the most beautiful buildings in town, whose landscaping is a project of the Southern Pines Garden club; the W. D. Campbell home, where a miracle of planting has been wrought in one or two short years; Weymouth, the James Boyd home, set deep in the woods; Seven Stars, home of Mrs. Audrey K. Kennedy; the W. C. Fownes place in Knollwood, the Bilyeu Farm, an authentic old farmhcuse graciously remodeled. Among other beautiful homes here are “Pickridge,” handsome home of Mr. and Mrs. Harold A. ■Collins; Foxhollow Farm, the former Hugh Sicard place, bought by the young Harry M. Vales; Whitehall, home of the David Drexels; the H. H. Beckwith place on Crest road, whose mag nificent gardens are opened each year for a day, to benefit the Moore County hospital; the love ly rambling home of Mrs. Kath- Ref lections In The Water This was some years after the bloom time, consule Pompey, when, as in an earlier era, the carpet-baggers from the North, this time from Boston, exclusive ly, and with matched luggage, in vested the Southland and set up a transitory dominion over peach and pine. It was then that Nelson Hyde, a well-known editor and promo ter of the period—and of his own periodical — opened his pages— without remuneration, be it said, in order, of course, to preserve their amateur standing as Col umnists—to the writers then in residence, thus affording 'local and articulate proof of the fact that the Colony did exist and could, when prodded, function. All who were invited, even the most modest, contributed; and some who weren’t asked, did so I anyway. Who but ourselves, who have good reason to, remembers Pepsy, an anonymous and acrid female commentator of the day? Someone—Nelson again, perhaps —carried the thing further, and a series of Readings from One’s Own Works to rather small audi ences took place (for the benefit of the Library, as we recall; and for no^ other good)—a fate, when we look back on it, worse than television. Well, it was a good writers’ Colony—^for they were good writ ers, all: James Boyd, Struthers Burt, Katharine Burt, Walter Gil- kyson, Bernice Kenyon, Harriet Ogden, V. C., Ralph Page, Maud Parker, Donald Parson (though of the Pinehurst contingency, as dear Mrs. Malaprop might have put it), Ruth Sanborn, to name a few (Hugh Kahler and the Ripleys had left then, and Wallace and Tish Irwin were yet to come). But was it a colony good for all writers? It did seem, sometimes, that there were so many pleasant things to do that the sharpening of pencils could be put off. . . just for awhile. Hounds went out too often—and too early, 'for Jack- son Boyd, if no greater huntsman than his brother, was an earlier riser, being, so it was muttered, a victim'of insomnia—, and there were the wild azaleas in the Holly Wood, and holly (if the nature lovers had missed it), and there was dogwood time; and the fair ways of the many linkses (where they could be seen from improved roads) were too green, and the corn, too, was green, though, we swear, aged in the woods (sic) for at least three months, and—and— Well, as we’ve said, it was- The cabin of Mr. and Mrs. Ernest L. Ives on Paint Hill Farm, and the cotton gin nearby, were brought frorn their original location in the western part of the county. (Photo by Humphrey) Are They Birdies Or Eagles? Bird Golfers Will Tell Yon Do yqu know 25 birds, “by snap-shot sight? ”If you do, you are eligible for the game “Bird Golf.” This was the favorite sport of one of the most interesting people to live in the Sandhills, Dr. John Warren Achorn. self deeply involved in a study, or pastime, or sport. . . he called it by all those nam.es. . . which absorbed both time and energy and furnished him and many oth ers the deepest satisfaction. Dr. Achorn had always been much interested in birds. He Dr. Achorn came to live in knew all the common birds by dell home; “Loblolly,” home ofierine M. McColl, a gardening en- the Harry M. Vales and occupied! (Continued on Page 8) Wells weep At Bilyeu Farm The lodge and lake of Foxhollow Farm, home of Mr. and Mrs. Harry M. Vale, Jr. (Photo by Hemmer) Hibernia Stands Amid Towering Pines and is, we feel sure—a colony for good writers of strong purpose and a single heart. But, fpr the rest. . . well, you see the trouble is—^there are so many diversions! I wasn’t long before he found him- Pinebluff, “way back when,” re tiring to that peaceful and lovely spot from the busy life of a prac ticing Boston physidian. But he was a man of strong enthusiasms and energetic personality, and it Set Deep In The Weymouth Woods Bilyeu Farm, owned by the Lewis C. Meyers, is an old farm home stead which has been remodeled to a gracious rambling country home, Among beautiful sights there are the entrance avenue lined with ancient trees, and the old wellsweep shown above. (Photo by Hemmer) Struthers and Katharine Burt, writers and lovers of beauty, with the help of Architect A. B. Yeomans, turned the old Cedar Pines Villa ^ into Hibernia, peaceful and lovely. (Photo by Humphrey) Forest lovers built .Weymouth, the James Boyd home, where in doors and outdoors blend almost imperceptibly. (Photo by Hemmer) sight and most of the uncommon ones, and he knew their songs, too. When he came to the Sand hills, he found that this section was the home of many birds all year round, and that many others stopped here to rest for a bit on their migrations north and south. He discovered that this was a wonderful place to study birds. To do something himself was never enough for the Doctor: he had to get everybody else to do it along with him. So, in this mat-' ter of birds, it wasn’t long before he had organized a Bird Club in Pinebluff. And he invented a g'ame which he called “Bird Golf.” Those were the days when golf reigned supreme hereabouts. You couldn’t cross a man’s lawn with out being hit by a practice mashie shot, and the favorite after din ner sport was putting contests on the drawing-room carpet. Where now at least a few people dis cuss last night’s bridge hands, or the way so-and-so came a cropper over the last fence of the run, then such idle chatter was un known: if you didn’t talk golf you’d better not talk at all. So when Dr. Achorn came to think up his game, of hunting birds in teams, it was only natural that he should call it “Bird Golf.” Es pecially as it really was a little like golf. That is, there were set stretches of country, like holes, only you looked for birds instead of the ball. Here is the way Dr. Achorn described it in the book “Winter Birds in the Sandhills”: “When sets, (or teams) are made up of a scout (who knows 75 birds) and two players (who know 50 birds each) and a game is started with half a dozen sets in the field, there is something doing in the way of excitement (Continued on page 8)
The Pilot (Southern Pines, N.C.)
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Nov. 18, 1949, edition 2
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