Wandering Billy

Old School

Ballinger Academy, downtown Eye candy and an ode to Dear Old Dad

By Billy Eye

“True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country.” — Kurt Vonnegut

Just weeks ago, I lost a very dear friend of mine. After a long and protracted battle, he finally succumbed to his wife’s demand that he not hang out with that bum Billy Eye anymore.

Perhaps as conciliation, my pal Caleb Gross, knowing how much I love a mystery, pulled up a Google satellite image of a large, manufacturing plant–sized building at the end of a winding, unpaved trail off Friendway Road near West Market Street. Caleb’s dad had lived in the Westwind Area neighborhood years ago, and that elephantine structure sequestered behind a row of mid-century homes had always fascinated him, being so completely out of place and long ago abandoned.

It has no discernible address, doesn’t seem to appear on any map, nor is the property listed on Zillow. Eye became intrigued as well, so we went urban excavating, motoring past the “No Trespassing: Violators Will Be Prosecuted” signs to steal a closer look. Caleb, by the way, is the drummer for our region’s banging-est punk band, Basement Life, whose latest album Devour is one of my all-time favorites. In addition to being a ferocious skin beater, Caleb’s a devoted father and hard-working professional.

What we discovered at the end of that dirt trail was a low-slung, one-story building fronting a Georgian Colonial-–inspired, four-story structure, a bit disheveled but totally intact, with unusually high ceilings. The windows weren’t broken — imagine that — but all entrances and lower floor windows have been boarded up to prevent egress. My first thought was, what a great event space this would make.

Surrounded by five acres of slightly overgrown lawn, there is no signage or anything identifying the property, but an adjacent athletic field suggested that this may have been a school of some sort. Sure enough, after asking around, it was Lady Katei Cranford who informed me that this was once Ballinger Preparatory Academy, also known as The Little Red Schoolhouse.

Attorney Max Ballinger and his wife Patsy bought this former preschool not far from their 100-acre Guilford College farmstead. After 12 years teaching at Sternberger Elementary, this was a dream come true for Patsy Ballinger, to be headmistress of her own academic enterprise.

Beginning in 1971, students attended kindergarten through 8th grade at Ballinger Prep, with class sizes ranging from 10–12 students. Under Patsy’s tutelage, pupils were immersed in a curriculum emphasizing geography, science, social studies, government, history, mathematics, as well as gaining fluency in French. Each day, students attended classes in the arts — music, drama, painting and creative writing.

It wasn’t unusual for Ballinger attendees to win the national Geography Bee. Students were encouraged to write books, many of which were published and achieved acclaim. Ballinger’s motto: “You don’t have to do it, You get to do it!”

First to arrive each morning and last to leave, Patsy directed and often times composed two dramatic or musical productions each term, insuring every child had a chance to participate in some way. Field trips afforded older students an opportunity to experience a variety of distant locales such as the Outer Banks, Williamsburg, Cape Canaveral, our nation’s capital, even white water-rafting down the New River.

When Ballinger Prep closed after the 2002 term, enrollment had dropped to just a few dozen, that year’s seventh grade class was just four students.

Caleb and I didn’t go as far as pulling particle board off the windows of the now vacant academy, not my style, but a visitor to this property in 2011 got a good look at the inside and discovered classrooms with desks and chairs in place, graded papers and a pair of glasses resting on a teacher’s desk.

On a related note . . .

Downtown the other day, on the corner of Elm and Washington, waiting for a light to change, I overheard a young man say to his wife, who was strolling their baby, “Look, there’s a candy factory. You want to go check it out?” They were referring to a building across the street from the Depot. “Don’t bother,” I told them. “There’s no candy factory there nor has there ever been.” They were puzzled, “Then why did they paint ‘Gate City Candy Factory’ in large letters on top of that building?” Beats me.

That brick, multilevel structure at 301 South Church Street, is currently home to The Experiential School of Greensboro, where, coincidentally, Caleb is hoping to enroll his 6-year old son this fall. This tuition-free collaborative for K-7 students opened its doors only last year, yet there’s already a waiting list.

The charter’s mission statement declares, “The Experiential School of Greensboro educates creative critically engaged citizens using an experiential curriculum that extends the classroom into the downtown Greensboro community.” That’s why you’ll occasionally witness a gaggle of youngsters taking part in a field trip making their way in a neat little row across downtown sidewalks.

A benefit concert for the school was held in May, “Songs of Peace and Community,” featuring many of the city’s finest singer-songwriters including Rhiannon Giddens, Laurelyn Dossett, Charlie Hunter and Molly McGinn, among others.

Meanwhile, talk about taking it back to old school, Caleb Gross and Basement Life have a show on June 8th at The Blind Tiger on Spring Garden, Eye’ll see you there?

***

I often wax nostalgic about members of the well-named Greatest Generation. Something about living through The Depression, World War II, the economic boom of the 1950s and ’60s, gave them an almost singular perspective, embodying the American Dream that subsequent generations squandered.

I was unexpectedly reminded of two friends of my parents, Tom and Leenette Wimbish (Wimbish Insurance) both departed, she just last year. Pulling a book from my library, an 8 x 7 pamphlet I’d never seen before dropped into my hands, a collection of poetry self-published by Tom Wimbish.

The final verse in his booklet, one entitled “My Dad,” is a clear-eyed portrait of the quintessential Depression-era Southern gentleman:

Standing straight and tall in the worldly wind,

Rigid in his beliefs, to the very end.

Arbitrate, not he; and need we ask,

An unwavering devotion to every task.

Love, he showed in a particular fashion,

Patience, he had as if on ration.

But, good he was in every pore,

His memory engraved forever more.

And, thus these lines thought somewhat sad,

Do honor and glory, my Dear Ole Dad. OH

Billy Eye is O.G. — Original Greensboro.

Wandering Billy

Hamming it Up

Going Hollywood, a birthday bash and new life for urban spaces

By Billy Eye

“I never worry about diets. The only carrots that interest me are the number you get in a diamond.” — Mae West

This summer marks my 50th year in show business. No, almost really.

It all began back when I was 12 years old, after I noticed that the back porch at 1200 Hill Street looked an awful lot like a stage. So I rounded up the neighborhood kids, including Trudy and Ann Warren who lived there, and put on a play using a parody of Dragnet from Cracked magazine for a script. Within days, we were invited out to channel 48’s studio off Wendover to videotape our sophomoric shenanigans for a segment on that station’s afternoon cartoon-fest, The Kiddie Scene with Mr. Green, introduced as “The Hill Street Moppets.” The only thing I remember about the program was they played the song “Yakety Sax” incessantly and broadcast those dreadful Mighty Hercules animated shorts (“Herc! Herc!”).

Actually, I got my start a few years earlier, when I wrote and starred in the fifth grade play at Irving Park Elementary. I was “The Flying Nut.” But, TV baby, that was the big time, with our skit screened at least a dozen times on Channel 48. Later this year, you can catch me portraying a sleazy music company executive in a motion picture shot here in Greensboro, directed by Maurice Hicks, entitled Rap & Rhyme. I’ve seen a rough cut and, if I say so myself it’s amazing . . . stay tuned.

***

Attended a gala luncheon at the Greensboro Country Club celebrating recently retired businesswoman and lumber magnate Marion Hubbard’s 90th birthday thrown by her daughters Libby and Ada. There must have been at least 150 of her closest friends there, if the fire marshall had shown up they’d have shut the place down.

The food was wonderful, the cake divine. I’m guessing half the residents of Well-Spring were present. I saw a lot of familiar faces and was lucky to be introduced to a few new folks, as well. By coincidence, I sat next to a couple I’d never met, Joel Funderburk and his lovely wife Norma.

“Funderburk,” I said shaking hands. “That name sounds really familiar!” Duh, that’s because our February 2018 issue featured the ultramodern home on Cornwallis that Joel designed and built in the 1970s, adjacent to Medford Lake, where the couple lived for 40 years. I had just read Nancy Oakley’s story literally the night before, while researching another subject, but I never made the connection (typical!). Not only that, O.Henry magazine scribe Susan Kelly’s mother was also at the table.

Joel and I traded stories about Old Greensboro, about Otto Zenke and why there are log cabins in Pinecroft, but when Norma asked if young people today know what Hamburger Square is, I was very excited to tell her about the meeting I attended the day before.

You see, big changes are afoot around Hamburger Square.

For the uninitiated, the corner of South Elm and McGee earned the moniker “Hamburger Square” back in the 1930s when there were diners on three of the four corners — California Sandwich, where Natty Greene’s is today; Jim’s Lunch, now Two Brothers Brewing; and Sunrise Lunch, currently home to Just Be. Within steps there were a half dozen other restaurants, including New York Lunch, the Hotel Clegg’s Coffee Shop in the newly remodeled Christman-Cascade Building  alongside the tracks on South Elm. While they all served hamburgers, California Sandwich and Jim’s (both remained in business for more than 40 years) were distinguished for their longstanding rivalry over who made the best hot dogs, which admittedly doesn’t shed a lot of clarity about why the area was called “Hamburger Square.” Nevertheless, the corner has remained remarkably intact for nearly a century now, and in my not-so-humble opinion, downtown’s crown jewel.

The renovation of Hamburger Square is Greensboro Beautiful’s 50th anniversary project, spearheaded by April Harris, David Craft and Randall Romie. Kitty Robinson was in attendance, Greensboro Beautiful’s first coordinator, back when the group was formalized in 1968. Before that, Kitty and her compadres had been undertaking beautification projects around town under the name City Beautiful, for example the green space along Cone Boulevard and dogwood trails. “Before, the money had to go through the Parks and Recreation department of the city,” Kitty tells me about those early days. “We incorporated as Greensboro Beautiful because we wanted our money to go directly into our projects.”

First up for Hamburger Square’s facelift will be a colorful new coat of paint for that weathered trestle above Davie Street, transforming what is now a drab and uninteresting view. “We’ve had lots of community input,” April explains about the next step, to brighten up the pedestrian and car thoroughfare underneath the trestle. “A lighting person came and showed us ways to have swatches of light to achieve different effects. You can set these LED lights to gradually change colors or be static.” The lights will be mounted up high to shine down.

Future enhancements will include a train-viewing area and as a complement to the existing 100-year-old shade trees, additional plantings to create greener spaces. Also in the works is some paving designed to increase pedestrian safety.

Everything new is old again!

***

Half a block north of Hamburger Square, specifically that alley between the Biltmore Hotel and the shops on South Elm and Washington, there’s an ambitious undertaking meant to revamp this dreary back street, where workers take cigarette breaks and stray cats mate. Ryan Saunders of Create Greensboro is behind it, “In 2018, I was living on the third story above Scuppernong Books which backs up into that alley. So I was using that alley on a daily basis.” He was struck by the wasted potential this corridor possessed.

For years, Ryan has been infusing life into dead spaces, both here and in High Point, “Obviously, there are a lot of hurdles to jump over to make this happen,” he admits. “But we want to create an alley that has that open, street-square feeling, where there’s landscaping and seating, so cars, bikes and people can share it,” he says. At night, he muses, “Gates would close so you could buy coffee from the coffee shop, you could buy a beer, get food and hang out. There’s an entertainment stage we envision for concerts.”

The first step is paving the alley, which is underway, but this grand scheme will rely on ingenuity, adaptability and a bit of providence. “If you take the first step today, the rest will follow,” is Ryan’s philosophy. Currently there are two large storefronts on the 300 block that have been vacant since the 1980s. “Those are really deep buildings, very old buildings,” Ryan points out. “From a real estate standpoint, the owners are going to have to invest a lot of money, really do a lot of improvements to get a tenant in there.”

Create Greensboro’s concept would accommodate a subdivision of those 3,000-square-foot former furniture stores into micro-shops, with an entrance facing the alley. “Because you have a smaller space, you’re paying less rent,” Ryan says. “So it’s more approachable for an entrepreneur. Washington Alley is not just a beautification process, this is basically an incubator for small businesses. That’s really what incremental development is all about.”

Relatively small projects like these have a huge impact on day-to-day life for those of us who live and work downtown, and help foster an environment that may encourage young creatives to stick around and not leave town at the first opportunity. Like I did.”

***

Traverse a few blocks down South Elm to find my fave noshery, Chez Genèse. Not that they need the publicity, this charming bistro is nearly always at capacity and will be even more so, I suspect, when Centric Brands relocates its headquarters into the former Blue Bell plant next door.

No matter how packed this comfy corner cafe can get, one is always able to enjoy a quiet conversation, and Eye was pleased to discover potato leek soup on the menu on my last visit, one of my go-to dishes. Don’t know if it’s still on the board but it was the best I’ve ever tasted, richly creamy with miniature wedges of potato to make it hearty enough for a meal. I also recommend the quiche of the morning — tall, silky smooth.

Anyone lunching or breakfasting with me at Chez Genèse becomes an instant fan. You will too.  OH

Billy Eye is always at a loss as to what to write here, how can anyone encapsulate that much fabulousness into mere words?

Wandering Billy

Goys and Dills

Remembrance of jobs past, a new New York–style deli and fresh flicks

By Billy Eye

“Choose a job you love and you’ll never have to work a day in your life.” — Confucius

One warm evening recently I found myself standing outside Rioja! A Wine Bar with some much younger friends, reminiscing about my first two jobs that were located just steps away. You know how the young’uns love it when we old-timers start pontificating!

Anyone reading this knows the difference between a job and a profession. I’ve been fortunate to have blundered into several amazing professional careers but can’t recall any satisfying J-O-Bs I’ve suffered through.

As a busy 16-year old, I resented the idea of having to venture out into the workforce to begin with. After school, I could be found up in my room writing and drawing, or acting in stage productions at Page High and First Presbyterian. During the summer, there were hours poolside at Greensboro Country Club, swimming being the best exercise after all, not to mention that a guy has an obligation to maintain his tan. Additionally, there was the labor-intensive hunting down of that week’s comic books — with such a whirlwind existence, where was there any time for a job, I ask you?

My father, on the other hand, felt it unseemly that a teenage son of his wasn’t working — having lived through the Depression, walking 12 miles back and forth, uphill both ways, to school, the two weeks he drove a diaper truck, blah, blah, blah — so Dad resorted to blackmail. No job, no car. That my father didn’t appreciate my artistic gifts was one thing, but to resort to such cruelty?!?

My one major vice at the time was eating ice cream sodas (very few people know what those are today) from the Baskin-Robbins where Northwood and Battleground intersect, so I ended up getting hired on there. Boy, would that place get swarmed on weekends when movies let out at the Janus Theatre. It was a short-lived affair, fired just a few months later after I slipped Brian Lachlen a free ice cream cone and one of my co-workers ratted me out.

Despite being coldly spat out of the capitalist machinery on my first outing, dear ol’ Dad put his foot down again, I still needed to be earning.

Driving around one afternoon in that sweet ’68 Cutlass V8 convertible Mom and I shared, I made up my mind to seek employment at the next place I heard mentioned over WCOG radio. Tragically, up popped the jingle “Hurry on down to Hardee’s, where the burgers are charcoal broiled. . .”

Hardee’s, in 1972, was right across the street from my former employer, next door to Krispy Kreme, which stood where Rioja! is today. It was an awful experience, the atmosphere set by a married manager who attracted the kind of women you’d see leaning over second floor balconies at cheap motels. I was so embarrassed about working there I devised a way, if anyone I recognized walked through the door, to cook and deliver a burger without my face being seen.

The only other job I had as a teenager in Greensboro was a short stint at Ellman’s jewelry store at Carolina Circle Mall where I beat the lie detector test required for employment. Not that I had anything to hide, I didn’t, I just wanted to see if I could. It wasn’t long before I began making a pretty decent living as an actor, determined not to be so capricious about how I made a living in the future.

***

Longtime readers of this column won’t under any circumstances recall, but I am on a never-ending quest for the perfect roast beef sandwich. Sadly, the eateries I’ve recommended in past columns are both closed now. 

That’s why I was so excited to try Greenfield’s N.Y. Deli and Bagels at Battlefield Shopping Center on New Garden Road, just west of North Elm. An honest-to-goodness kosher deli with homemade chopped liver, bagels, crispy fried knishes, reuben and pastrami sandwiches folks are raving about. Everyone in the place seemed genuinely excited about their meals when I dipped in.

I spoke briefly with Tom Cassano who, with his father Anthony, opened Greenfield’s last September, partly because they felt the New York deli experience was missing in Greensboro. “I grew up on this type of food, especially the desserts and baked goods,” Tom tells me. “Don’t get me wrong, we’ve got great places, but nothing like up North.” While father Anthony is a Philly native, Tom was born here in the Gate City.

“Bagels are like our babies,” Tom points out. “Our everything bagel, cheese bagel, we have a Black Russian which is like a pumpernickel with an onion seed on it. Sandwiches, that’s a key thing too.” Curb Your Enthusiasm fans may want to dive into their Larry David special, constructed with Nova and Whitefish on a bagel with lettuce, tomato capers, and cream cheese. Wash it down with a Dr. Brown’s soda, natch.

Eye’ll be returning shortly for that truly superior roast beef sandwich I enjoyed, garnished simply with thin layers of lettuce, tomato and onion on a Kaiser roll (the way I prefer, customize away). I recommend the quarter-pound version, I don’t know how anyone could wrap their lips around a half-pounder but apparently it’s possible. And I thought I had a big mouth!

Take my word for it? Immediately after lunch, entirely by happenstance, I bumped into my old pal, Brooklyn-bred Pete “The Greek” Arata, who was equally effusive about Greenfield’s authentically New York fare.

***

If you have a Greensboro Public Library card there’s a free Netflix-like subscription movie service, Kanopy, I’ll bet you didn’t know is at your fingertips.

Kanopy is heavily into documentaries, you get 10 flicks a month (resetting back to 10 on the first of every month) but one of the best parts is a documentary series like Eyes On the Prize, which runs 14 episodes, only counts as one play.

Other great docs and motion pictures you can access: Billy Wilder Speaks, Los Angeles Plays Itself, She’s the Best Thing In It: Portrait of a Character Actress, Can We Take a Joke?, The Last Movie Star (Burt Reynolds’ last movie and it’s quite tragic-funny), Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story, Trumbo, Save the Tiger, Dick Cavett’s Watergate, I Am Chris Farley, Girls in the Band, Mickey Mouse Monopoly, Drunk Stoned Brilliant Dead: The story of the National Lampoon; you can even learn a foreign language.

It’s easy. Go to Kanopy.com, enter your library card number, create a password, begin binge-watching.  OH

Mr. O.G. — Original Greensboro — aka Billy Eye would love to hear from you. Email billy@tvparty.com.

Wandering Billy

Caps ’n’ Taps

A different kind of brewing company serves up a sip of the past alongside current faves

By Billy Eye

“Everybody’s got to believe in something. I believe I’ll have another beer.” — W.C. Fields

I had the pleasure one afternoon of meeting with Jan Oden at the site of one of the most exciting resurrections of architectural relics since the Revolution Mill project.

Jan and her husband, Bill, are forging a brewery, beer garden and entertainment complex at the southern edge of the College Hill neighborhood, crafted out of a handsome two-story brick manufacturing plant flanked on both sides by four Craftsman-style bungalows built around the turn of the last century. The imposing rustic building at the center of this facility, most recently a metal finishing business, was erected in 1940 for the Good Luck Bottling Company.

Greensboro is known for many things. Dolley Madison’s stitches, Wrangler britches, Vaporub for itches, the South’s sassiest (that next word didn’t get past my editor). It may surprise you to know our fair city was also a soda pop fountainhead for the Southeast.

North Carolina’s very first Coca-Cola bottler began filling 5-cent bottles on South Elm in 1902. Soon after, Pepsi-Cola was brewing on nearby Lewis Street. By the 1940s, Nehi was bubbling up on Battleground, 7up over on Walker, Orange Crush on Westover Terrace, Canada Dry Ginger Ale on West Market, and Dr Pepper (“Drink a Bite to Eat at 10, 2, and 4 o’clock”) on Lee Street. At one time or another, we’ve been home to Chero-Cola, Lime-Cola, Gin-Gera (“It Gingers You Up”), Pal Ade, Nesbitt’s Orange, Mint Cola, Big Frosty, Necto, and Tru-Ade. Greensboro was selected for the world’s most modern Pepsi bottling plant in 1957 where no less a superstar than motion picture dominatrix Joan Crawford herself stilettoed into position on Spring Garden near Holden to cut the ribbon, flanked on either side by WWII ack-ack guns and the combined Army, Navy and Marine Corps Color Guards.

Lesser known but just as effervescent was Greensboro’s own Good Luck Bottling from the mid-1930s into the 1950s. Founded by William Lafayette Oden, more informally known as “Fate” (if you saw his portrait you might imagine why), Good Luck began operations on Davie Street with 3 Centa cola. With every other bottle of pop selling for a nickel, 3 Centa had a 40 percent price advantage. In 1940, Oden expanded his operations to include a spicy ginger ale originating out of Birmingham. It wasn’t happenstance that he chose to build his larger plant on Lee Street (now Gate City Boulevard) near Tate. “He did some research,” Jan says of her great-grandfather. “And found this spot had the best water possible, so he had a deep well dug.” The water was so pure, Oden was bottling spring water here with the slogan, “Feel better, live longer.”

Around the same time, that spicy ’Bama ginger ale was renamed Buffalo Rock. Was it because of our own Buffalo Creek? “That’s one of the things I’m trying to figure out,” Jan tells me. “Exactly what my great-grandfather’s involvement was.”

Jan is so dedicated to this exciting endeavor she relocated her family here from Wilmington in the fall of 2017. As we tour one of the charming houses serving as her makeshift office, filled with shabby chic antiquities, she tells me of her commitment to preserving these historic properties: “We want to keep everything close to the way they are built. The Avett Brothers’ ‘Salvation Song,’ that’s our theme song.”

For years serving as college student rentals, these four homes will be integrated into the overall complex, each remarkably intact, cozy and true to its roots. “We could have a restaurant in here with seating inside,” Jan remarks about her office. “While food could be served out of the back window to the beer garden.” When I visited, one of the homes had just been moved to the side, opening up the rear of the property for parking and an expansive open-air patio with a stage for local bands.

As someone residing in the area, known to tip a glass or 10, I for one can’t wait to see — and taste — the results when this ambitious undertaking is completed in late summer. The brewmaster for what will be christened Oden Brewing Company, Brian Carter, late of Natty Greene’s, will have 15 taps flowing. “There are a lot of places taking ‘creative’ way beyond where I think it needs to be,” he says. “We’ll have a good variety, so that there is something for the beer nerds who want that new crazy thing, but if somebody just wants a damn beer, they’ll have something to drink too. The whole first year will be figuring out what people are clamoring for.”

There’ll be more than brewskis on draft. The plan is to make kombucha in-house and, Brian promises, “Once we figure out how to carbonate the water, some craft sodas,” A spicy ginger ale, natch, along with other flavors. “Just like the beer rotation,” he says. “When that batch runs out, we’ll replace it with something else.”

This area was undisturbed for so long it remains encircled by towering oaks and leafy shrubs, an idyllic environment for a friendly neighborhood brewpub filling the gap between coffeehouses and corner bars. “There’s nothing else like it here,” Jan points out. “People want that walking distance spot, a place where the family can eat and hang out and bring the kids.”

Billy Eye is O.G. — Original Greensboro.

Wandering Billy

Where Everybody Knows Your Name — and Game

How Jake’s Billiards and Freeman’s Grub & Pub defied conventional wisdom and beat the odds

By Billy Eye

“Once you’ve started for the end of the rainbow, you can’t very well turn back.” — Cecil Beaton

I’m sharing
a table at Freeman’s Grub & Pub with proprietor Jessie Kirkman, perhaps the most successful restaurateur you’ve never heard of, talking about what it takes to make it in an environment where most ventures fail in the first year. “There’ll always be people with a dollar and a dream,” she tells me somewhat wistfully. “But they have no idea what they’re getting themselves into.”

Freeman’s is a relatively recent but highly successful culinary detour for Jessie, the guiding force behind Jake’s Billiards, a Greensboro institution where, if everybody doesn’t know your name they certainly know your game. The only place I know where aging hippies and glorified hipsters party harmoniously alongside students, day laborers, architects, musicians, salespeople, you name it. An alchemic mix of disparates drawn inexorably, though not entirely by accident, to Jake’s Billiards.

Originally known as Rack’m Pub & Billiards, a joint located on Battleground perpetually behind the eightball with (so the story goes) numerous Alcoholic Law Enforcement violations back in 1991, a smoky establishment rechristened “Jake’s” four years later after regular customer Jacob Segal acquired the place.

Jake’s Billiards banked off of at least three different locations before finding its permanent side pocket on Spring Garden in 2002. “I was a server at a few places around town and, of course, everyone hung out at Jake’s,” Jessie tells me. “I fell in love with their bartender, Josh. He’s now my husband.” By that point, Jake’s had earned a reputation for their solid menu at an unbelievably low cost. “That’s actually why I started going there,” she confesses. “I was vegetarian and it was the only place to get quality good food.”

Jacob passed away in 2004, that’s when Jessie and Josh purchased the business. “It was really rough for a while,” Jessie remembers. With a graduate degree in economics she hammered out the paperwork that was in utter disarray, bringing the operation into alignment when, as if on cue, a bartender didn’t show up for his shift one day. “Well . . .” she reasoned, “I know how to ring everything in and I know how to bartend so I just sort of took over the place and quit all my other jobs.”

Refusing to fall prey to conventional wisdom suggesting that Jake’s Billiards needed gimmicky promotions, karaoke nights, beauty contests, or punk bands thrashing against one wall to attract crowds, “I wanted it to be word of mouth,” Jessie insists. “The people that like us will tell their friends [and so on].” Food was a key element and margins were incredibly tight at first. “I remember going to Sam’s Club to buy $300 in food and we’d do $300 in sales. Then I had to go out and get $300 more food.”

The pub side may not have been generating a profit but burgers, wings, quesadillas and top-flight bartenders kept customers hanging out, playing pool, buying drinks. “My husband ran the kitchen and I ran the front of house.” Skillful execution not high concept, Jessie believed, would grow the business. “For the longest time, Josh and I survived on tips because we took very good care of our employees,” she says. “We offered insurance way before we had to.” Of those early years she says, “It took everything from us to be able to do that but it kept employees there and feeling valuable. They don’t teach you that.”

Around 2011, Jake’s Billiards expanded to fill the enormous building they had been leasing only half of. The couple had to spend hours clearing away dust and debris each morning but, even during construction, “We were still open,” Jessie remembers. “I’d reach over the bar to grab somebody a Miller Lite while they’re tearing down the wall between the two places.”

After the expansion Jessie was equipped with a proper kitchen, able to prepare more adventuresome fare like Spicy Wontons (jalapeño, cream cheese, corn and grilled chicken), Angus Mushroom Swiss Burgers, Baja Tacos ($2 on Tuesday) and my persona fave, Cobb Salad (for less than 5 bucks). You know how hard it is to find an authentic Cobb Salad at any price?

“We had a chef who was very creative,” she recalls. “The next thing you know we’ve got avocado aioli and mangos in here for mango salsa.” Just about everything, right down to the dips and sauces, is made from scratch in-house. It’s not uncommon for NFL athletes or touring musicians from the nearby Coliseum to blend in late night at Jake’s. I can’t think of anyone who doesn’t feel at home there and it all works precisely because of that peer-to-peer business model.

Not to mention, pool is that rare pastime attracting devotees both serious and casual from across all nations. “You’ll have a table with people from India, from Germany, people just get together,” Jessie has noticed. “This rich retired man and a plumber on his lunch break, you’d never think they’d talk to each other. The next thing you know they’re playing pool together. It’s a spider web of beautifulness.”

Growing from eight employees to 75, with 69 taps and almost 200 varieties of beer alongside an arsenal of liquor, Jake’s became the No. 1 ABC account in North Carolina outside of Grove Park Inn and the Charlotte Douglas International Airport. Every aspect of the business is thriving as Jessie points out. “After the smoking ban, our food sales were 10 times what they were.”

When a former mom-and-pop grocery store built in the 1920s became available in 2014 just a couple of blocks west from Jake’s near the corner of Elam and Spring Garden (then serving as home to Sessions coffeehouse), the Kirkmans purchased it. They did so with no intention of opening a restaurant. “We closed on the building December 31st,” Jessie tells me. That was the day after being told Sessions wouldn’t be renewing their lease. “So we sat on it for about a month.” Because the property wasn’t zoned for a bar, Jessie realized, “We had to do a restaurant and it would have to open within a year to be grandfathered in for handicap issues and the parking lot, things like that.”

From the beginning, Freeman’s (named after that aforementioned grocery store) has been garnering the sort of reviews a restaurateur dreams of, diners raving about their mojo pork Cubans, braised collards, chopped sirloin Banh Mi, and fried chicken you’d slap Aunt Frannie for. “For the first year I shoveled money down here from Jake’s,” Jessie says. “But I don’t buy anything that’s not quality, I won’t sacrifice anything to make a dollar.”

She had the luxury of staffing Freeman’s with the best and brightest from Jake’s. “I needed a dream team down here.” While we were talking, I glanced into the kitchen as the staff was prepping for the lunch crowd, the crew smiling, laughing, clearly having a good time. “Restaurant people in general, we’re a different type of people,” Jessie says. “It’s in our blood and we’re not going to be happy at a desk. We thrive on chaos.”

This is all quite an accomplishment when you consider what else she has on her plate: “My husband and I adopted two children when we opened Freeman’s. They didn’t die so we decided to have our own,” she quips. “They’ve really changed the dynamic of our lives. It showed me that there’s more to life than a restaurant.”

Meanwhile, Jake’s Billiards never closes. Neither snow nor rain nor blackouts nor holidays will keep their loyal players from their appointed rounds of pool. And Super Bowl Sunday — fuhgeddaboudit. No need for Bar Rescue here. Jessie could teach Jake Tapper a thing or two. “I cannot watch that show without having extreme anxiety because I can’t jump into the TV and fix things!”  OH

Billy Eye can be found at the bar.

Wandering Billy

Oz-Mosis

From Gate City to Emerald City and back again, our local Scarecrow
scares up some chow and a new TV music series

By Billy Eye

“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” — Arthur Ashe

Land of Oz. Perhaps you recall that fabled but star-crossed 1970s amusement park nestled on Beech Mountain. You entered the attraction through Dorothy’s farmhouse as it emerged from a tornado. Exiting the home, you’d find it lying akimbo along the rocky surface, two legs in striped stockings sticking out from under the frame. Joining Dorothy’s journey down the Yellow Brick Road, park guests encountered the Scarecrow, Tin Man, Cowardly Lion and the Wicked Witch of the West. It all culminated with a big stage extravaganza at the Wizard’s Emerald City castle, after which, visitors were whisked back to the parking lot in a gondola cable car disguised as a hot-air balloon.

Neglected but mostly intact (except for the Emerald City) Oz was offering limited tours of what’s left of the park past June. I attempted to get tickets, but demand was so great it crashed their computer system. The gates to Oz will once again swing open for a bigger attraction this September, a yearly tradition that, over the last fifteen summers, has grown more and more popular.

Oz opened in 1970 as a sister attraction to Tweetsie Railroad; attendance was spotty even before a fire badly damaged the premises in 1975. The owners pumped major money into the venture in 1977, and that summer I was hired to play the Scarecrow for a promotional tour of shopping malls across a three-state region. It was the first successful mall tour ever undertaken. At the Carolina Circle, Dorothy and I entertained children with a musical puppet show created by Jerry Halliday. He’s a Vegas mainstay now with a risqué show you wouldn’t dream of taking your kids to. I only visited Land of Oz once, a VIP tour to give us a sense of what the attraction was all about. I’m curious to see what remains of this blockbuster motion picture-come-to-life in the North Carolina mountains.

The Food Truck Festival in May was a smashing success, a sunny Sunday afternoon gorge-a-thon downtown with fifty-three mobile eateries participating, including fare that ranged from Greek to Tex Mex. The Porter House Burger rig was mobbed from the start, smoking Municipal Plaza with the aroma of charred beef. (Is there any sweeter fragrance? I think not.) At times, block-long lines awaited Cousins Maine Lobster for their first trip to Greensboro. Lines also formed at Pearl Kitchen, Empanadas Borinquen and Urban Street Grill, apparently all worth the wait. I had a teriyaki chicken bowl with lemongrass steak skewers from Buddhalicious that tasted just like ones I enjoyed in L.A.’s Koreatown. By the shank of the evening you’d have thought it was the ganja festival, anyone selling confectionaries had streams of minions queued up, spilling over to Cheesecakes by Alex a block away where patrons lingered on the sidewalk waiting to get in. If the thought of sampling cuisine from dozens of the finest eateries in the state appeals to you, then rejoice that the festival returns at 4 p.m. on August 28th. Here’s a tip: Don’t even try to park nearby, and if you want something sweet, get that first; by 5:30 lines will have stretched too long as vendors run out of the good stuff. Or purchase an Early Bird wristband for $12, a portion of which benefits charity. You’ll have an hour’s head start on the hoi polloi (of which I’m a diehard member).

Just sneaked an early peek at the Hong Kong House Cookbook right about now at fine bookstores and on Amazon.com. Publisher Karen McClamrock has blended together a savory collection of Amelia Leung’s most beloved recipes from her family’s longtime Tate Street bistro, mouth-watering dishes like the Garden and Guitar Shop Burgers, Beef Shitake Snow Pea Stir Fry, those luscious egg rolls and garlic wings. Recipes are easy to follow and, as a bonus, there are plenty of photos from those halcyon days from the ’70s into the ’90s when Hong Kong House was the happening-est gathering spot just off campus.

I’m immersed in a project I’ve wanted to do for decades: producing a music television series. We shot footage for the first two of four episodes featuring local talent that includes Grand Ole Uproar, Taylor Bays and Rachel Anick, all of whom gave stellar performances. Uproar and Taylor have been faves of mine for years. Rachel I met just a few weeks ago. I met her after I stopped by Jeremy Parker’s downtown recording grotto where they’d just laid down her vocals for the song she performed on the show. It was revelatory, like hearing Tori Amos or Joan Baez for the first time. The program airs in August on cable channel 8. Scan your TV listings for The Nathan Stringer Summer Music Show, available on YouTube and iTunes in September.

That’s all the gibble-gabble I’ve gaily gathered. Over the coming months I’ll be telling you who’s the candidate you should be voting for and which religions are better than the others. Don’t miss that. OH

Billy Eye will be summering in Antarctica, just as soon as he can afford to.