When I grew up in Chapel Hill in the 1950s and 60s there was an array of raconteurs throughout town that kept me spellbound with fascinating tales of their lives. By 1980 most of these great storytellers had died and this endearing Chapel Hill tradition was only a memory. In 1992 I began compiling many of the greatest stories I heard into a journal so that I could pass them on to future generations. Fortunately one of anecdotists, Kemp Nye, was still alive and had recently written down several of his best stories and sent along copies of several to me. I first heard the following story from Kemp when I was about seven in the Oriental shop that adjoined his world-famous record store. This room was filled with Hindu and Buddhist icons, as well as a case of rare jade and ivory items from the region. It always had a strong aroma of incense and beautiful Chinese classical music was usually being played in the background. At that time "China" was not even recognized as existing by the United States and there was no travel by Americans to this exotic location. Kemp was one of the few Americans who had spent any time in China, having served in a small military attachment with our ambassador prior to the start of World War II. Kemp had many incredible tales about his stay in China and several he wrote fascinating books about, but largely because of his death in 1994 they have gone unpublished. The following is one of my favorite Kemp stories, and among the most enchanting true-life Christmas stories of all time.

Charly Mann

TOUGHIE AND THE BUTTERBALL (A Christmas Eve in Old Peking in 1939)
by Kemp Battle Nye

Christmas Eve was as any other eve in the unheeding Chinese city of Peking.  

Children by the hundreds became lost from their parents to wander helplessly about the hutungs. Hundreds more were purposely abandoned in desperation when meager means were exhausted. As frightened kittens set loose in a strange world to fend for themselves, children were frequently found wandering lost, frightened, hungry, without hope. Before some of them were fortunate enough to find their way into a mission haven, they became prime candidates for the death carts, which always came with the dawn to collect the frozen corpses of those who failed to survive the frigid night.

Huddled little bodies crouched against the walls as if in a deep sleep, half covered by the racing sands when morning came, were not an uncommon sight to those who would pause to look.

Chapel Hill raconteur Kemp Battle Nye beside the Moongate of his Chinese themed house in Chapel Hill in about 1982

Exhausted, they cried themselves to sleep, perishing peacefully into a world of numbness, never knowing the moment of their passing into the contentment of that "Never-Never Land" where all little children go, even little Chinese children.

With sudden fury, another dust storm blew in from the Gobi - the raging, howling sort. The north wind laden with its burden of fine yellow sand blasted the rooftops, dumping its load in whirling eddies sculpturing wrinkled dunes against the walls of the narrow hutungs. Vision of the sky was long blotted out as the storm vented its full fury upon the walled city. The frigid cold added misery to the unfortunates lost to wander. And those fortunate enough to have shelter had long past sought it. The usually busy hutung thinned as darkness descended.

My coolie struggled with his rickshaw, slowed to a walk as he leaned heavily into the fierceness of the howling wind.
"Stop!" I yelled over the madness of the storm.

I leaped from the rickshaw, fell upon my knees, and clawed frantically at the sand building against two tiny bodies huddled against the hutung wall.

"Oh God, don't let me be too late!" I moaned as I dug madly.

Dust was crusted upon the tear-stained faces of the two children. I listened close to each little nostril.

"They're still breathing!" I shouted to the rickshaw boy, as I furiously brushed the sand from their nostrils and mouth with my gloved hands.

The coolie pulled, I pushed, we struggled against the storm, finally arriving before the gates of How Men. I rushed to beat upon the gates with my fists, as I screamed for Big John to open up.

The girl Nan Lee stood startled as I burst through the door, two motionless bundles, one under each arm. I sent her scampering for Butslow to fetch hot water, cloths, towels. . The urgency in my voice was commanding as I deposited the bundles upon the warm k'ang.

"They're half frozen!" I muttered, breathing hard. ,hurry! We must get the sand out of their mouths and noses."

One child squirmed, and then the other showed signs of life as Nan Lee returned. I quickly loosened their clothing, Nan Lee wrung out a towel, steaming dry, wiping crusted dust from their small, moon-round faces.

Butslow stood nervously, a steaming pot of tea in his hands. I commanded him:

"Cast more coals upon the fire so the k'ang will be warmer! And bring another brazier into the great room!"

Under Nan Lee's swiftly moving hands, life began to return. The taller one released the hand he clutched of the fat one. Soon, a painful groan was followed by a weak sobbing cry. The taller one opened his eyes, stared, a fierce scold set upon his little face. I smiled down at him:

"He's tough all right, he's gonna make it!"

I thought it best to give the tykes a cold bath to draw the frostbite. That was how we did it in the mountain country. Start cold, then gradually warm 'em up!

The girl Nan Lee sent Butslow hurrying to fetch the big tub, hot and cold water.

She began to strip the two. Then, in startled surprise, exclaimed:

"Da-Ren, they're both little boys!"

"My Lord, what a Christmas present, two 'stem-winders'! Isn't that something?" I snorted.

I wonder how in the world anyone could abandon two little boys in a raging winter storm, knowing full well they would perish. I remembered the missionary tales about how the Chinese put little girl babies out to die, and sometimes even threw them from cliffs into the sea to drown. But never little boys! Sons were guarded preciously as long as the family could maintain them.

"It wouldn't have made a difference to me," I said, bald-face or stem-winders. Babies are babies, I love 'em all. Besides, what would this world be like without little girls, anyway?"

I smiled as I kissed Nan Lee's cheek and patted her playfully.

Butslow hurried in with the tub and water, and brought the old scrubbing-woman from the kitchen.

"Da-Ren, she knows plenty about babies. She has raised many in her day - vellie savvy, she can make well!" Nan Lee smiled as she stepped out of the old woman's way.

The old woman set to work. The girls, Tara and Soochow Sue, pitched in to help. I stood above them, supervising as apprehensively as if the boys were my very own.

Throughout the night, How Hen was a busy place - no one slept. Came the morning, the boys ceased their crying. They took porridge from the insistent hand of the old woman, and whimpered off to sleep as she massaged their bodies with camphor oil.

The storm passed as suddenly as it came. Christmas morning dawned bright and clear. The houseboys brought warm food and tea. Nan Lee looked upon the sleeping boys and said:

"Da-Ren, how you say stateside? You have two little Jesus boys instead of one this Christmas morn!" She smiled as she sipped her tea.

"Yes! Do you think old Buddha will mind if there are two little Christian Jesus boys in China?"

"I don't think so!" she replied.

"Then I shall give them Christian names and christen them!"

I called Butslow to gather all the family of How Men in the great room. I held one of the boys on each knee and named them.

"This one I shall name Toughie! He always looks so tough without smiling!

"The other shall answer to Butterball, he is so round and fat and happy!"

Then I called for Butslow to bring two little candles. We lit them with ceremony, one for each, and placed them in the window for all the world to see that Toughie and the Butterball had safely found a new home on that Christmas Day.

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I lived most of my life in Chapel Hill until I was 40. From my childhood through late adolescence my social life was exceptionally fluid as new friends came and went almost on a yearly basis. I seemed to always be changing and found it hard to remain compatible with anyone for very long. I had many good friends, but not a best friend by the conventional definition of someone who I felt secure sharing my deepest thoughts with, was non-judgmental, and would always be there to lift my spirits if needed. From an early age I thought of life as an adventure and I have been fortunate to share that journey in a literal sense with more than two dozen Chapel Hill friends. This article details trips and lessons I learned on them with seven of my favorite male travel companions. In a future article I will do the same for journeys with some of my most cherished Chapel Hill girlfriends.

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On July 18th 2012 I traveled to Oklahoma to interview Charly Mann, the creator and primary author of Chapel Hill Memories, to get background material for a book I am writing about Chapel Hill. The following is transcript of that interview.

Kathy Brown: I’ve been reading your articles in Chapel Hill Memories for several years and wondered how you know so much about the place.

Charly Mann: Actually Kathy that’s a funny question to me. I have not lived in Chapel Hill for more than twenty years and I was simply searching the Internet in early 2008 looking for some history of the town and discovered there was very little to be found. To make a long story short I hired a programmer to build the Chapel Hill Memories website so that everyone who has ever lived in the town could contribute their recollections about the people, places, and events that they remembered. My plan was just to seed the site with a few stories that I thought a lot of Chapel Hillians would enjoy and then pretty much step away as many others would submit their recollections which my webmaster would post.

Unfortunately few others have contributed and I have become the de facto historian of the town.

Kathy: From the scope and depth of your articles it is apparent you know not only a lot about Chapel Hill from the years you lived there, but from the time it was founded.

Charly: Thanks Kathy. I learned a lot about the town when I was young from about a dozen mostly grey-haired citizens who were fascinating raconteurs who could go on for thirty minutes or more with a story from the past. Fortunately I started a journal when I was about nine and recorded a lot of these stories.

Kathy: Where did they spin their tales?

Charly: It seems like everywhere I went. From the barber shop, to the stores I hung out in, and especially from older friends of my parents who we would visit in the evening or have over to dinner.

Kathy: What inspired you to start a journal at such a young age?

Charly: Actually I think it had a lot to do with a learning disability I have called dyslexia. Back then, in the mid-1950s, the doctors and other specialists my parents took me to just could not figure out why I was having so much trouble reading, spelling, and pronouncing a lot of words. By the third grade I had lost interest in school and began using the time I should have been doing homework to write or draw in my journal. Usually I recorded conversations between my parents and their friends or some local merchant and one of their customers.

Kathy: That’s fascinating did you record many of the conversations and things you were doing with your friends as well?

Charly: Actually I did that very rarely. I think I intuitively knew I could learn more by listening to adults than other kids.

Kathy: Did you do much reading then?

Charly: No Kathy, not until I was about sixteen. My brain is wired very differently from a normal person’s. For me this means the left side and right side do not sync up very well and it took me until I was sixteen before I began to develop tricks that allowed me to read with decent comprehension. Writing and spelling are still very challenging to me.

Kathy: What are some of your tricks?

Charly: Well the one that saved me I did not learn until I was about to start the tenth grade. I also do not think I could have employed it anywhere but Chapel Hill at that time. It involved taking long strolls across the UNC campus and the woods below Gimghoul Castle on a daily basis where I would repeat over and over information from classroom lectures or important facts from my textbooks that I wrote down on 3x5 index cards. I never felt like I was studying in a conventional sense but instead was enjoying the wonders of nature and the beauty of the UNC campus. These walks usually lasted three to five hours, but when I finally got home I always felt mentally and physically invigorated. I also went from being a “D” and “C” student to straight “A”s, often in honors classes, for the rest of my educational career.

Kathy: One of things I envy about you is that you had a hometown to grow up in. I don’t feel like I had a "hometown" as I moved several times as a child, and only lived in Chapel Hill between the ages of 12 and 17.

Charly: I’m not sure you are missing out in the long run. After leaving Chapel Hill more than twenty years ago, I have lived in Florida, California, Texas, and now Oklahoma. I have a love and loyalty to all these places. My philosophy is that one should just enjoy the world around you wherever you are. Having a great life just requires making good choices.

Kathy: Do you miss living in Chapel Hill?

Charly: Chapel Hill is still a magnificent place, but it is no longer the beautiful friendly village I grew up in where you knew almost everyone in town and no one would dream of locking the door of their house or car. Much of what I see of today is characterless suburban sprawl. The Chapel Hill I grew up in for better and worse does not exist anymore.

Kathy: Do you keep up with many people from Chapel Hill?

Charly: Well first of all a lot of my family still live in Chapel Hill. I do also have old friends living in town or in surrounding communities, but the majority of my Chapel Hill friends left long ago and are scattered around the country. I actually see, write, and talk to many more of these ex-Chapel Hillians than those living there now. On the other hand, as a result of Chapel Hill Memories I do get a lot of e-mails from Chapel Hillians that I had not known, or was only casually acquainted with when I lived there.

Kathy: Do you get a lot of the information for your articles from these people?

Charly: Surprisingly very little. We live in a very discombobulating time. In the digital age everyone seems to be multitasking yet no one has the time to concentrate and write down a detailed recollection of a person, place, or event from their life in Chapel Hill. I do however get a lot of very short e-mails in which someone will mention a business, person, or event that was important to them and usually suggest that I should write an article about it. Interestingly a lot of those suggestions even encourage me to write about their parent or a business that was owned or managed by them or their family.

Kathy: From some things you said in your Chapel Hill Memories articles I surmise you are not too keen on technology and the Internet.

Charly: On the contrary. I am a technology junkie. My house and office are full of computers and I have a huge collection of music, movies, and photographs digitized to access through my many iPads and iPods. I also have a degree in computer programming and have taught programming for several years on the college level as well as owned and operated one computer hardware and two software companies.

What I am not excited about is socializing on the web. I do not believe Facebook, Twitter, or texting is a substitute for a physical life. Socialization to me means face-to-face contact and all of the body language and implicit information that come with it.

Kathy: Do you think Chapel Hill has changed much because of the Internet?

Charly: From my own experience, I think quite a lot. For example I joined Facebook to keep up with a lot of people in Chapel Hill. What I loved and remember most warmly about the place when I was living there was a community of passionate, creative, innovative, non-conformists. Today I think the Internet culture, most personified by Facebook, has turned that around. Whether one is 15 or 65 most Facebook members are always being confronted with the content of other friends and we quickly become aware what content gets the most Facebook “like”s. Social success on Facebook means having hundreds of friends, and many of our friends “liking” what we have posted. This in turn rewards conformity and mediocrity and penalizes those with iconoclastic interests or opinions. When you are looking at someone else's content—whether a video or a news story—you are able to see first how many people liked it and which of the friends you share liked it. This encourages us not to form our own opinion but to look to others for cues on how to feel.

Kathy: I wonder if you are just a bit jealous because it was almost impossible to have so many friends when you were growing up.

Charly: First I am quite skeptical that one can have more than half a dozen real friends. I confess that is all that I keep up with on a regular basis. By this I mean people who I at least weekly see for a meal or other activity, exchange a lengthy letter with, or have at least a half hour phone conversation with.

What worries me is that young people who should be developing themselves based on who they are on the inside are instead trying to conform from the like “stats” they can achieve. The result I think will be a steep decline in self-esteem, and an even heavier reliance than today on anti-depressants, alcohol, and other drugs.

Kathy: Does this bother you about the culture in general or are you speaking specifically about Chapel Hill?

Charly: I am sure this is pervasive in the modern world, but my concern is most for a town that for decades was well-known for being an incubator of great writers, songwriters, business innovators, and scientists simply because of the great diversity of people and ideas they were constantly exposed to. Today the people I come in contact with from Chapel Hill are much more monolithic and homogenous. This kind of culture squelches pioneers and rebels. The people I learned the most from were people who often rocked the community’s boat, eloquently spoke their own mind, and were not afraid to take risks. For example Chapel Hill always had a liberal tradition which I am proud to have been part of, but it was often in the minority or at least tempered by a sizeable conservative intelligentsia. Now, as far as I can see, that balance is gone.

Kathy: What other major changes have you seen in Chapel Hill in your lifetime?

Charly: The first one that comes to mind is the obsession with having the best college basketball team in the country every year. Carolina had the most amazing basketball season in its history in 1957 when I was a young boy going 32-0 and winning the NCAA championship against a basketball team far better than them, yet except for a few weeks of celebration, basketball passion did not overwhelm the community. I do not recall then a single store in town even selling a UNC basketball t-shirt of any kind

Today UNC basketball permeates the community and the only good season is one in which UNC beats Duke in all of its games as well as winning the NCAA championship. When I was growing up one was elated over any UNC victory in basketball, football, or baseball, and often there were more defeats than victories in a season. Today I have had several current Chapel Hill friends tell me it is not fun seeing, listening to, or going to a UNC game unless they win since that is always what is expected. In my day it was not national championship or bust it was simply did we play as good as we could. I often felt a great deal of joy when UNC held its own, but was eventually defeated by a better manned or coached team.

Kathy: Thanks for your time Charly.

Charly: I enjoyed talking to you.

Interview by Kathy Brown

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by Charly Mann

Chapel Hill was once inhabited by a large number of cowboys. They were all very young men and women who had been mentored by Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger, Wild Bill Hickok, and Annie Oakley on Saturday mornings. They learned from their heroes to always be polite, and that it was their duty to protect the weak, as well as rid Chapel Hill of any outlaws and villains. As old fashioned as it may sound today, Chapel Hill's cowboys and cowgirls believed that families always stayed together, and that courteous and well-groomed people were almost always good.

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by Charly Mann

When I was a young boy in the 1950s I often spent delightful afternoons at the farm of the Reverend Clarence Parker located off Mt. Carmel Church Road not far from where it intersects with 15-501. Father Parker, as most people called him, was a retired Episcopal priest who was in his early 80s. He was the kindest and most gentle human being I have ever known. Surrounding his rustic house was a field that contained a number of large hickory and maple trees. Running free through this expanse was a large number of farm animals including chickens, goats, ducks, cows, and turkeys.

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by Charly Mann

In my mind, almost everyone I knew in Chapel Hill was a star. I have recently compiled brief bios on 223 people I knew in town who I not only admired but who also inspired me. I was fortunate to keep a fairly detailed diary from an early age, and used it as my primary source for these profiles. Over the decades most of these characters also made numerous appearances in the journals I wrote, which have helped me describe the personality and remarkable attributes of these individuals. I also had dozens of personal letters from many of these people that were often a better source than my diaries for capturing their spirit.

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by Charly Mann

An amazing collection of political minds have lived in Chapel Hill including U.S. Presidents James K. Polk and Gerald Ford, as well as Robert Welch the founder of America’s most conservative organization, The John Birch Society, who was a gradate of the University of North Carolina and former U.S. senator John Edwards a leading advocate for liberals until his recent troubles. Now our country is in the midst of an acrimonious political debate on how to reduce our onerous national deficit and lift our debt ceiling. Since I resided in Chapel Hill longer than any of these men I figured my political genes must be as acute as theirs, and I figured I could come up with a solution to this crisis.

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by Charly Mann

Chapel Hill was blessed with an abundance of great fathers in the 1950s. Somehow these men who had grown up in the Great Depression and most of whom were veterans of World War II were all kind, honest, decent, and selfless individuals. They all enjoyed their work, but loved their families even more. These guys were authority figures who did not often have to give instructions. Through their own actions you knew what was expected. They really did inspire by example. Besides my own wonderful Dad, I saw these characteristics in the fathers of many of my closest friends including, Henry Brandis, who was Dean of the Law School, Bob Cox, who was a downtown merchant, David McGowan, who was a pharmaceutical salesman and reminded me of Fred McMurray on My Three Sons, George Prillaman, who ran UNC Food Services such as Lenoir Hall and was the personification of cool, and Sandy McClamroch who was the Mayor of Chapel Hill for most of the 1960s and owned WCHL yet was as laid back as Ozzie Nelson in the Adventures of Ozzie and Harriett. These men were great to be around and each left an indelible impression on me about how to be a responsible adult and father.

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By Bill Anthony UNC Class of 1965 (all photos provided by Charly Mann)

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Jenny McClamroch Crittenden, 62, died peacefully Monday, April 4, 2011 with her family by her side at home on Bald Eagle Lane, Wilmington, NC after an extended battle with Inflammatory Breast Cancer.

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by Bob Jurgensen

In 1964, Chief Bill Blake, a rather robust man of probably no less than probably 450+ lbs, implemented a "cadet" program for teenagers interested in law enforcement careers. This program served as well to help youths struggling to find their identity in a very vibrant and eclectic Chapel Hill in those days. I don't recall the names of all the participants, but it included myself, Kemp Nye, Jr., Steve Sparrow and a few other high school kids.

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by Charly Mann

From 1962 to 1971 hitchhiking was my prime mode of getting to school and work. Ordinary people would stop and pick me up without a second thought for their personal safety. I usually began my journey about 7:00 AM near the intersection of 15-501 (Fordham Boulevard) and Morgan Creek Road, and my destination was usually somewhere in downtown Durham where I attended part of junior high and high school and subsequently managed a record store. My daily roundtrip was 60 miles and it usually required three rides in each direction to complete.

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by Charly Mann

Almost everyone I know has gone to at least one of their high school reunions. If you are my age and have recently attended one of these events the first thing you noticed is how old everyone has become. You will also see that most of the men are balding and fat, and surprisingly most of the women are in good shape and still fairly attractive. Many of the men I have run into seem uncomfortable and have insipid conversations about sports, investments, and their careers, while the women for the most part are outgoing and talk about their families and current interests and usually ask me about mine.

While I always love to see or hear from old friends from my childhood and high school days, I wish there were a way we could have reunions with friends from each year of our adult lives. As we change careers, work our way up the corporate ladder, or move, we lose touch with so many wonderful people. I think that while the friends we had in high school and college were nice, the friends we make in the real world are usually more similar to us and therefore more interesting to reconnect with.

Me with "lost"  Chapel Hill friends. From left to right: Harry Clements, Charly Mann, and Lizanne Fisher from 1979. At the time Harry was the owner of the Paradise Records chain. Before that he had been CFO of the Record Bar. Today he is a partner in the Childress Kline commercial real estate development and management company. 

I often wonder why I have lost track of so many of the friends I made in the last 40 years. Was it that they all stopped liking me, or did I lose interest in them? It turns out that most of our "lost" friendships have nothing to do with this. Instead, they are the fallout of a natural limit uncovered by recent anthropologist research which found that human beings can only handle a maximum of 150 relationships at a time. Beyond that number, the critical neocortex part of our brain begins to malfunction. As a , we naturally drop some old friends as new ones come into our lives.

I would like to pay tribute to a handful of my former Chapel Hill friends who were purged from my friendship database.

A smiling Lizanne Fisher making her dinner at my house in the summer of 1979

Lizanne Fisher was a real estate agent for J.P. Goforth in Chapel Hill in 1979. I had a large house off Whitfield Road at that time and a mutual friend, Harry Clements, told me what a fascinating person Lizanne was and that she needed a place to stay. I let her have a room which I believe was rent free. In return I had the pleasure of befriending one of the most ebullient and delightful people I have ever known. She later left Chapel Hill and became a highly successful real estate agent in Washington, D.C.

Betsy Moore and her always present smile in my den in Chapel Hill in 1985

Betsy Moore and I were good buddies for more than five years in the 1980s. She would often come over to my house where we would play tennis, and I would regularly watch her favorite show, Cheers, with her at her apartment on Thursday evening. We also had lunch together on a regular basis and sometimes went on day-long driving trips to places like Southern Pines and Pinehurst. Betsy was the sweetest person I ever knew and also the cutest. The last I heard she had become a pastry chef and moved to Virginia.

Christi Owens of Chapel Hill in 1983 at 18 years old

After working more than a decade in the music and video business I decided to try teaching and got a programming degree and was hired as a Professor of Computer Programming at Durham Technical College in 1982. I loved being a teacher, and many of my favorite students were also from Chapel Hill including Christi Owens. Christi came from an illustrious Chapel Hill family. Her father developed Estes Hills and other neighborhoods in town, and her mother, Patsy, and her friend Anna Darden ran an avant-garde upscale women's clothing store between Chapel Hill and Durham. They lived in a large house on Rosemary Street near where it intersects with Boundary.

Christi loved The Wizard of Oz, and I had a friend of mine make a chocolate red slipper birthday cake for her in 1984

Christi was the first student to give me an apple, and we soon became good friends. She often came over to my house after school where at 3 p.m. she would religiously watch her favorite show, General Hospital, then featuring the wedding of Luke and Laura as well as staring a young and beautiful Demi Moore. Christi was passionate about The Police and Every Breath You Take seemed to often be playing when we were together.

Lori Stephens and Charly Mann at Temptatons Bakery in Durham in 1982. They were located across from Brightleaf Square and had the best chocolate truffles in America. 

Lori Stephens was an enormous ball of energy with a fondness for the outrageous. Her father was a gynecologist in Durham, and she grew up in Hope Valley. In 1978 and 79 I was dating her best friend, Laura Kreps (who grew up on Oakwood Drive in Chapel Hill and whose mother was then Secretary of Commerce in the Carter administration). Lori and I became good friends and she stayed in one of the rooms in my house for awhile. She and I had several wonderful trips together; one to Southern California, and another to New York City. On our return flight from our New York trip Lori may have had a little too much to drink. In those days rolling stairs were brought up to an airplane when it landed at Raleigh-Durham Airport. My tipsy friend fell from the top of the stairs all the way to the ground, but was so relaxed at the time that she got up laughing and without a bruise.

Angela Cason in Chapel Hill shortly after graduating from Yale

Angela Cason moved to Chapel Hill in 1984 after graduating from Yale with a degree in English to work for her sister Lee White's advertising and design company. Angela was an extremely brilliant and curious person, and after just a few hours of conversation could penetrate into the soul of another person. She gave me a copy of her favorite book, The Phantom Tollbooth, that I still occasionally read sections from. A few of my favorite passages from it are: "So many things are possible just as long as you don't know they're impossible," and "What you can do is often simply a matter of what you will do."

Angela is today the CEO and President of Cason Nightingale, an advertising and marketing company located in New York City.

I am fortunate to have a marvelously eclectic collection of former Chapel Hill friends – some were artists, some business people, several were lawyers and doctors, many were musicians, two were philosophers, and quite a few were bohemians, yet each was an individual with a warm heart and a gentle spirit.

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by Charly Mann 

Jim Heavner more than any other person created the character and spirit of modern Chapel Hill through his relentless drive of promoting the town and elevating UNC football and basketball to national prominence through his conglomeration of media companies including WCHL, The Tar Heel Sports Network, and The Village Advocate.

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by Charly Mann

When I was eleven I read the fairytale Hansel and Gretel to my 5 year old sister Monika, and became enchanted by how the story ended with the two youngsters living happily ever. For some reason this impacted me enough to write down in a notebook that I wanted to have a life like Hansel and Gretel's. Over the course of the next several weeks I began asking several friends of my parents how one could live happily ever after, and added their words of wisdom to my notebook. My father noted what I was doing, and said if I kept this up I might become another Thomas Wolfe. I had never heard of this person, but was sure my Dad meant it as a compliment.

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by Charly Mann 

Sid Rancer was Chapel Hill's steel man. He was also once a member of the Chapel Hill's city council. Sid's first love outside of his family was acting and he was in countless theatrical productions in town, and even played supporting roles in several cult films. I only recall meeting Sid once, and that was when I was eight years old in 1958. I rode my bike across town to visit his home on Bradley Street off Barkley Road to look at a used bicycle basket he had for sale. I am not sure if I bought the basket, but I do remember being impressed with his sales enthusiasm.

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by Charly Mann

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Ric Carter was Chapel Hill's best counterculture photographer in the 1970s. He came to Chapel Hill from Gates County in 1967 as a 17 year old freshman, and got his first serious camera in 1969, a Yaschica Mat twin-lens reflex. As a student at UNC he learned to develop his own film, and was soon combining his love for music with his passion for photography to document the bands and concerts in the area.

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by Charly Mann

Today, May 26 2010, Art Linkletter, one of the kindest and most gracious individuals I ever met died at 97. In 1957, at the age of seven, I was fortunate enough to be one of the children he talked to on his very popular CBS television show, Art Linkletter's House Party.

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by Charly Mann 

I would like some help with Chapel Hill Memories. From what I understand the population of the United States is 307 million. Of that number 118 million are over 60 and I doubt if they have the energy to write articles about Chapel Hill. That leaves 193 million Americans who can help, however 120 million of those are under the age of 20 and thus do not have the time or experience for this endeavor. That still gives me a pool of 69 million to choose from. Unfortunately 59 million Americans are employed by the government – local, state, or federal, and we all know people who work for the government feel they are already doing their community service with their jobs. So my pool of potential contributors is down to 10 million, but there are also 7 million U.S. citizens serving in the armed forces and these men and women are just too busy protecting our country to help. That leaves only 3 million of you to help. Unfortunately there are one million Americans who are patients in hospitals or committed to mental institutions and they are of no use to me. Finally, there are 1,999,998 Americans serving time in prison, so that leaves just you and me, and I really could use your help writing about the people, places, and events of Chapel Hill's past.

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by Charly Mann 

Chapel Hill Memories is establishing the Chapel Hill Hall of Fame to memorialize citizens who have made a significant impact to our community. The first inductee is Billy Arthur who did more than any other person in our town's history to make us laugh, help us play, and appreciate our heritage.

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by Charly Mann

It is impossible to find a single adjective to describe the extraordinary contribution Kay Kyser bestowed on Chapel Hill, the University of North Carolina, and the state of North Carolina. He was an exceptional human being who excelled as an entertainer and a humanitarian. He was one of the biggest stars of all time, yet walked away from fame and fortune at his peak in 1951 to live in a dilapidated house in Chapel Hill. The rest of his life he dedicated to making the town and the world a better place. Among his work was the establishment of two of Chapel Hill's most important institutions, UNC Memorial Hospital and UNC Public Television.

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by Charly Mann

While Chapel Hill is proud of the athletic glory of past UNC sporting teams, famed musicians who once called the town home, and its magnificent setting and beauty, it is the large number of great minds that have inhabited the town that make it so extraordinary. While these individuals have not received the wide spread adulation and celebrity status of other residents, Chapel Hill Memories will try to rectify this oversight by occasionally profiling some of these people.

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by Charly Mann

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 by Charly Mann

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 by Charly Mann

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by Charly Mann

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by Charly Mann

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by Charly Mann

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by Stanley Peele

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by Charly Mann

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Old or young we all enjoy the circus. One hundred years ago circus wagons drawn by teams of horses were a yearly sight on Franklin Street, signaling that the circus was coming to Chapel Hill. Fifty years later, William Meade Prince and Carl Boettcher created the Circus Parade carvings that were originally placed in the Circus Room snack bar on the UNC campus to commemorate this event. These exquisite carvings now adorn a hallway in the alumni center on the north side of Kenan Stadium.

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by Stanley Peele