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Dave Wilson - Street Sweeper And Town Santa
"J like this job. I like the people here."
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By NICHOLAS HANCOCK
I felt a little foolish, perhaps a little
embarrassed, the first day be walked
through the door in Ms red velvet suit
and flowing white hair and beard.
He was making his rounds along
Main Street, handing out Tootsie Rolls
and lollipops to whomever he en
countered on the sidewalk or in stores
?nri hmlnrsi offices.
Dave Wilson, the town street sweeper
and volunteer Santa, had a twinkle in
his eyes that radiated from his weather
lined face. The candy rolled out of his
massive working-man's hands onto the
paper-strewn editor's desk as he asked
if everybody in the office had been good
this year.
I'll admit I felt flushed as I thanked
"Santa" for the goodies and assured
him we had been good.
The next time Dave came around, I
was a little more comfortable with the
situation. After all, there's still a lot of
child in most adults, and there was
something about this Santa that allow
ed that child to emerge again ? even if
it was for only a few moments. After
that second visit, I found myself
waiting for his return. "He hasn't come
in today. Wonder when he's coming
back?" It was almost child-like an
ticipation.
The following week Dave is back in
his element ? walking up and down the
main street of Marshall playing Santa
Claus. He loves doing it. You can see it
all over his face, right through the cot
tony white beard that covers
everything but his eyes, nose and
cheeks.
Dave's used to walking Main Street.
He's done it almost every day for the
past seven years. He may be the only
bona fide street sweeper left in the
state.
Born 70 years ago on Bailey's Branch
? "Four miles out," he says ? Dave's
been in Marshall (or the past 39 years.
He gave up (arming and moved to town
to work with Bowman Funeral Home.
At 63 he began working (or the town,
primarily as garbage collector and
street sweeper, but town officials say
he's an all-round handyman who helps
the water and sewer department and
does just about anything that needs to
be done.
"I like this job. I like doing it," Dave
says as he sweeps up cigarette butts,
two bottle caps and a few scraps of
paper at the curb in front of the
Wachovia Bank.
It's 5:30 p.m. Thursday and it will be
three hours later before he finishes both
sides of the street along the business
section and put his wheelbarrow, shovel
and broom up for the night. Along the
way, he stops in at Dodson's Grocery
and talks for a few minutes with John
and Doug, warms himself a bit and goes
on his way.
Friday morning, he'll be up at four
o'clock to start his rounds in the gar
bage truck. Mondays mean four o'clock
too. Wednesdays, five.
Back out on the street, Dave says he
likes Marshall, "I like the people here.
If I didn't like it, I'd move on to
someplace else."
He recalls how the town has changed
over the years, how the Gulf Station us
ed to stay open all night and how the
drug store used to stay open OTW-mid
night
"People use to walk to town, but
there's more cars now. Use to; you'd
see 14 or more people on a road walking
to town after working on the farm all
day."
But the cart thin out after 5 p.m., and
the street again belongs to Dave and his
wheelbarrow. By 7 p.m. the street is
desertad and the whisk of his broom
echoes off the walls and storefronts as
his six-foot, lanky frame is silhouetted
by a streetlight halfway down the
street.
The temperature readout on the bank
dock blinks what Dave feels on his face
and hands as a cold front pushes over
the mountains and sweeps along Main
Street on an icy breeie. Dave says after
a snow it takes a few extra hours to
clean the street once the snow has
melted. "There's a lot of salt to sweep
up," he says.
But the warm summer months are
more enjoyable. It doesn't get dark so
early, and folks will sit on the benches
at the courthouse affording him an op
portunity to stop and chat for a while. A
time to recap the day's events in town
as the daylight-saving sun settles bet
ween the mountains and over the
French Broad River.
"Yeah, I like this place a lot. The peo
ple's awful nice here," he says.
Many of those awful nice people
decided to pay special tribute to Dave
this Thursday, Christmas Eve, by
gathering in the town hall at 6:30 to
honor him on the officially proclaimed
"Dave Wilson Appreciation Day."
It's their way of saying "thank you"
for his careful attention to the
cleanliness of Main Street, for his toot
of the garbage truck horn and patient
waiting while they carry out last night's
forgotten trash can, and for his cheer
fulness as he plays Santa Claus for
young and old alike during the
Christmas season.
They've picked an appropriate time
to repay Dave for the Christmas spirit
he's given them the whole year.
Mountains Give New Shape
To The Lives Of 2 Potters
By DOT JACKSON
The Charlotte Observer
Special To The News Record
The first months David and Jane
Sibley Renfroe lived up Big Pine Creek
they lived in the barn.
"They had stored corn in the house,"
Jane says. "The ceiling was falling and
we couldn't get the door open to go in.
The barn was better off than the
house."
David and Jane, both 29 and from
Charlotte, met at Myers Park High
School. They married at 18 and went on
to school at UNCC, studying art. Eight
years ago they bought SO acres in the
steep, narrow-coved mountains near
Walnut.
"We had come to the idea that we
wanted to live in the country," Jane
says. "We just hadn't thought about
this far out."
Everything they see from their por
ches is theirs. Their water comes from
springs in their own bowl of hills.
No salesman is apt to call on them;
the road to their place would be passed
by as a rock slide, by most. Even a four
wheel drive vehicle grinds up it very
slowly, brushing the laurels, dodging
rocks.
Daughter Melissa. 2. rides her tricy
cle freely about their traffic-free com
pound. It is still dark when Christine, 7,
goes down in the morning to meet the
school bus on the highway. A parent
goes along with a flashlight. "The sun
comes up on us on the way," Jane says.
Since David and Jane moved in,
they've built a large pottery studio of
two stories and basement, mostly by
themselves, and a kiln for firing their
highly individual mugs and pots.
They've raked the corn shucks out of
the house, installed electricity and
plumbing and made a comfortable
home.
The pottery, sold by Ivey's and
through crafts shows and outlets like
Charlotte's Southern Christmas Show,
makes a living.
"The primary thing is to make as
many pots as we can sell," David says.
That means getting out to the shop by 6
a.m. and working all day before the fall
marketing season, the heaviest produc
tion time.
Getting started, "We had help from
my father's estate," David says. "If
we'd had to break even the first year, I
just didn't have the experience to do it.
In the long run, I think we've come out
pretty well. I've learned to put up
buildings. When an appliance breaks
Avoid The Rush
In Holiday Meals
Christmas Day is one you'll
want to spend with the family,
not constantly in the kitchen.
"Christmas meals with
family and friends are more
fun and festive without the last
minute rush," says Mrs. Mar
jorie Donnelly, extension
foods and nutrition specialist
at North Carolina State
University.
A little pre-planning and
preparing of foods ahead of
time can help you spend more
of the holidays out of the kit
chen, she notes. You can put
into practice some tips and
tricks which are fine for any
jobs now and later.
Plan grocery lists and shop
early. And be sure all your
cooking and serving utensils
are in order.
Some things can be done
before Christmas week. You
can wash vegetables and
fruits and store them tat plastic
bags ; prepare bread for dress
ing. bread crumbs and
cracker crumbs for casseroles
and other dishes, cookie
crumbs for pie shells and
other desserts; make no-cook
candies and spiced nuts and
make fruit balls by mixta?
ground dates, raw prunes,
raisins, (fried figs and nuts.
Give your Christmas dishes
that finished look with gar
curls, i
down up here, you don't just run it into
town..."
Are they happy?
"We go over that, between us," David
says. "I feel like I've learned enough
that I could get a pretty good-paying job
in town. It's mqre work up here. It's
hard getting a babysitter.
"At the same time, you get a taste for
it. Sometimes we get worn down, and
we say well, we could move. But I don't
think we ever will..."
That first year, when they lived in the
barn, Jane remembers, she was preg
nant with Christine. One afternoon they
went over the ridge to a neighbor's.
"We went in the car. Dave had to come
home before I wanted to so I told him
just to come on, I would walk.
"I started out and I got lost in the
woods. I thought I saw the barn roof,
and I was so happy, and I came down ?
and it wasn't ours. So I tried to go back
up the ridge, the way I'd come, and it
was getting real dark. And finallyl I
just started hollering. And then I saw
David coming with a lantern, looking
forme.
"From then on, when I saw lantern
light shining through the cracks of the
barn at night, I'd think, 'That's
home.' "
Dave Wilson
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