Charly (Charles) Mann, Jenny McClamroch, & Karen Orr having fun in July 1954

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.

She was born, raised, and lived most of her adult life in Chapel Hill, NC, where she and her husband Louis raised their three sons.

For the past five years, they have lived in Wilmington, NC, where their children have also relocated.

She is survived by Louie; parents, Sandy and Bet McClamroch (Chapel Hill), sons, Joel and wife Jayna, Sam and wife Michelle, and Jeff; sister, Lee Oliver and husband Kevin of New Zealand; brother Jim and wife Connie; sister-in-law, Betsy Crittenden of New York; six adorable grandchildren; two nieces and a nephew; and Master Mo.

A private celebration of her life is planned for a later date.

Special thanks go to The Lower Cape Fear Hospice, sister Lee, and good friend and neighbor Sue Jones for special end-of-life care.

Donations in her memory may be made to the N C Coastal Land Trust, 131 Racine Drive, Suite, 101, Wilmington, NC 28403 (www.coastallandtrust.org) or the Lea Island Conversation Initiative, 7714 Market Street, Unit D, Wilmington, NC 28411.

Condolences may be sent to the family at www.andrewsmortuary.com

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by Charly Mann 

The best thing about Chapel Hill when I was growing up was that everyone in town was a character. One of these characters was Charles Hopkins who owned a world-renowned Franklin Street jewelry store for nearly 50 years. The jewelry that he designed and created has been displayed in almost every major museum in North America and Europe.

A sophisticated ad for Charles Hopkins Jewelry Store on Franklin Street in 1962

I first encountered Hopkins in 1956 when I was seven years old soon after he opened a small shop on Franklin Street. I remember him as being an outgoing man who was always exceptionally well attired. For most of its existence Charles Hopkins Jewelry was located in Amber Alley next to the Ram’s Head Rathskeller. While waiting in line for a table at the Rat during peak lunch and dinner one would be dazzled at the exquisitely crafted jewelry in Hopkins’s window display.

This is Amber Alley off the center of Franklin Street in Chapel Hill. Within the blue circle above is the sign for Charles Hopkins Jewelry Store which was located here for more than thirty years.

Nothing at Charles Hopkins' was the stereotypical jewelry that was carried at the town’s other jewelry store Wentworth and Sloan. Hopkins created his jewelry to be enjoyed and not passively worn. He said he believed jewelry should not only enhance a woman’s beauty, but also focus attention on her. Everyone I know who bought a ring, necklace, or pair of earrings there adored their one of a kind creation.

Charles Hopkins in his Jewelry Store in Amber Alley

The store had two rooms. In the first was where the jewelry was displayed and sold, and that was managed by Hopkins’ wife Bibbi. The adjoining room was his studio. I recall that Hopkins had a secret technique for working with gold that he carefully guarded.

For more than two decades Charles Hopkins Jewelry was Chapel Hill's leading provider of elegant wedding and engagement rings. 

Charles Hopkins first began to learn jewelry making as sailor during World War II when he would spend his idle hours aboard his ship using only a file and hammer to make watchbands and ash trays from scrap aluminum. He soon added silver coins and coral to his creation. Later when his ship was docked in New York City he took some shore leave to meet acclaimed Greenwich Village jewelry designer Sam Kramer. Kramer recommended a book and the tools the young man would need to learn fine jewelry making. Hopkins immediately bought the book and the tools, and for the rest of is time in military service used all his free time to perfect this craft. After the war he returned to his home in Graham, NC and worked for the N.C. Board of Health while studying gemology as a hobby. In 1951 he enrolled at UNC and got a degree in Anthropology and later one in Library Science. After graduation he worked for several years as a librarian at Duke. During the summer months he took advanced courses at California’s College of Arts and Crafts.

An ad for the recently opened Charles Hopkins Jeweley in 1957. 159 1/2 Franklin Street was the first location of the business. Note that in the 1950s Chapel Hill phone numbers were only four digits! 

Charles Hopkins was also an avid motorcyclist and took long trips on his bike throughout the United States and Europe. Charles Hopkins Jewelry’s final location was in the strip center across from University Mall on South Elliot Road in Chapel Hill.

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by Charly Mann

Chapel Hill is home of several legends and mysteries including a crashed airplane that lies in the woods near Finley Golf Course, a haunted mansion deep in the woods near the Dean Smith Center, and most incredible the ghost car that is often seen cruising late at night on Morgan Creek Road without a driver. I have heard about this from more than a dozen witnesses who say they have seen a silver car resembling the shape of a Checker Cab cruising down this road at night. In two separate incidents the car drove slowly behind them as they were walking along the road near dawn, and then suddenly picked up speed and passed them by. To their astonishment there was no one behind the wheel.

Over the years this strange phenomena has gotten even more bizarre. There have been several reports of drivers who passed in the opposite direction and were amazed to see no one in the car. In another case I was told that the car was driving at such a crawl that the driver behind it became impatient and passed it on the right on an especially windy part of the road, but that as soon as he got in front of the car and looked back he realized there was no driver. Less than three seconds later he looked back again and the car had vanished.

Recently I have begun working with several other current and former Chapel Hill residents to figure out this strange experience. Is this just the collective imagination of people living along or visiting Morgan Creek Road late at night, or is there another explanation? Several months ago a friend and I decided to park along a secluded section of the road about 2:00 A.M. After sitting quietly for more than two hours and seeing only four or five cars go by with people behind the wheel, we saw a silver car approaching in the opposite direction. It then pulled over less than 30 yards in front of us. Both of us agreed that there was no sign of anyone in the front of the car as it was approaching, but there did seem to be the silhouette of a person in the back seat. Less than a minute later the left rear door of the car opened and we saw a figure put something on top of the car and then enter the woods. I then rolled down my window and clearly heard the sound of someone walking in the woods directly across from me. The road was now almost totally dark, and as I stuck my head out of window I saw the face of a thin and very pale bald man looking out at me from behind a tree less than 15 feet away. I was so frightened that I turned on my car and took off immediately. The only evidence I have of this encounter is the photo below that my companion took of the back of that phantom car as we drove away.

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 by Charly Mann

Every year in Chapel Hill is a very good one. I have six decades of fond memories of the place. 1976 was an especially good time for me to be in Chapel Hill. I had several dozen good friends in town, as well as one great one who was adept at pointing out my mistakes and imperfections to help me become a better person. The town was full of interesting people and the colors of the trees, stores, and clothing were never more vibrant.

In 1976 Harrison's was one of Chapel Hill's most popular restaurants

The favorite destination in Chapel Hill that year was the Morehead Planetarium where the dazzlingly colorful Lasarium krypton cosmic laser lightshow and concert took place every evening. If that was not colorful enough, almost every girl in town under the age of 25 wore a mood ring which contained a liquid crystal stone which would change colors depending on the mood of the wearer. I recall that they could display at least a dozen colors, and would be light blue when a person was most relaxed.

Chapel Hill continues to reinvent itself and improve. In 1976 this part of West Franklin street was in decay, but within a year it was thriving.

I enjoy recalling the look and the smell of past Chapel Hill years. Each vintage of the town has far more pleasant memories than bad, and these photographs capture at least part of the spirit of Chapel Hill in 1976.

 
This is me and my then wife (the wonderful Madonna Bentz - a Chapel Hill girl through and through) standing with my 1976 Rolls Royce Silver Shadow in front of my Dad's house on Whitehead Circle. I was then 26 and had recently acquired a taste for exotic cars. At the time a Rolls cost $36,000, not much different than the price of a fully loaded Toyota Prius today. Today a new Rolls Royce is $380,000.

The line in front of the Carolina Coffee Shop in 1976. Their clientele was always made up of the most intellectually stimulating people in Chapel Hill.  

The most popular apartments in Chapel Hill in 1976 included The Royal Park Apartments, Foxcroft Apartments, Camelot Apartments, Pinegate Aparments,  Kingswood Aparments, Estes Park, and Colony Apartments. Rents averaged $110 a month for a one bedroom unit, and $175 for three bedrooms with two baths. (A first class stamp that year was 13¢ and today it is 44¢.)

A beautiful young girl truly enjoying the Apple Chill Fair in 1976

 
1976 was the last year downtown Chapel Hill was filled with street musicians and merchants. A new ordinance prohibited these activities, and the famed Chapel Hill flower ladies were forced inside the walkway of NCNB plaza. 

The N.C. Cafeteria was a thriving eating establisment along Franklin Street for more than 40 years despite having the most unremarkable food in town. It was a favorite among many though; famed and very wealthy local author Betty Smith was a regular. I believe it closed in 1977.

In 1976 Chapel Hill's bus service was new, and it was still not too difficult to find good free parking downtown (like at University Square). That year Carrboro voters rejected becoming part of the local bus system.

Enjoying lunch in 1976 on the stone wall across from the Chapel Hill Post Office. Still the best spot to watch the world go by.  

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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.

Former Chapel Hill Police Chief William D. Blake, who most credit with keeping Chapel Hill calm during the turbulent 1960s.

During the demonstrations for civil rights in the mid-60's there was a sit-in at Columbia and Franklin and the police arrived and started making arrests. Chief Blake was there in the thick of it all, He actually sat on some demonstrators to hold them down until officers could cuff them. I was watching from the marquee roof of the Carolina Theatre, at age 14, before I was a cadet.

As most Chapel Hillians from that era may recall, Chapel Hill was often referred to as "Berkley East" - a liberal town of many compositions and personalities - there was the Town and Gown crowd (University officials and students, local businesses and of course political figures) and then there was the rest of us. And let's not forget the hippie population (Berkley East!)... who were building their base and eventually grew to their peak influence by 1966-67 in their dominance of Franklin St.

In high school I was something of a latch key kid who hitchhiked all over town, often catching rides with local police officer's who I had befriended. My grandmother lived diagonally across the street from the Police Department on Rosemary street when it was both a police station and fire house. My mom, who worked for the Chapel Hill Newspaper, often interviewed Lt. Herman Stone, Chief Blake and other officials during her news reporting days, so almost everyone at the police department knew me. When I needed a ride home late at night on the weekends, after working as a projectionist at the Varsity or Carolina, I'd just go by the police station and eventually someone would take me back to Glen Lennox, where we lived for several years. We had no phone at the time. Sometimes we were diverted to calls enroute and I wouldn't get home until 1 or 2AM.

Chief Blake eventually invited me to become a cadet - one of my first jobs was helping Lt. King, who was well past retirement and relegated to working the police radio and little or no field work. At first Lt King would not even allow me near the transmitter and had me doing paperwork chores, which I found boring, to say the least. Eventually, after a few tours of duty, Lt King permitted me to conduct routine radio traffic on the radio and after a short period of confidence building on his part, I was regularly assigned to work the radio while he drank coffee and sat in the office. Over time I became a regular dispatcher, often working entire shifts. Chief Blake's office was about 20 feet away, which meant regular contact with him and he routinely said "when you turn 21, I expect you to come to work for me."

Downtown Chapel Hill civil-rights sit-in demonstration in1963. At that time both downtown Chapel Hill movies theaters would not admit blacks, nor would the popular breakfast and lunch establishment, The College Cafe, serve blacks.  

Enter Vietnam War and a low draft number, so I volunteered and joined the US Coast Guard (versus Army!) in 1967 and left for a four year run. When I returned to Chapel Hill in 1971, I needed to wait a few weeks to turn 21 so I could be sworn in and so I worked as a dispatcher with Kemp Nye, Jr who had remained while I was away. Once I was sworn in I attended police training, an abbreviated version of what state troopers attend at UNC's Institute of Government and became a sworn office in June of that year.

Those were interesting times, long gone were "most" of the hippies that once lined Franklin Street with their sidewalk wares; Chapel Hill had changed during my time away and the new prevalent drug generation seemed to be the mainstream students of North Carolina's elite.
Being 6'5" and 250 lbs, I was regularly assigned a walking street beat on Franklin St with another officer, who I recall was usually fellow officer Manley Dawson. Manley and I did not always agree on how to deal with people and there were more than a few disagreements. I am an “ask questions first” kind of person, Manley, well, not so much. Eventually I was reassigned to the Eastgate and Glen Lennox patrol district or as we called it, the sleepy district (no action, whatsoever).

Lt Herman Stone was quite the dandy dresser. There was never a speck of dust on him, and he was also a lady's man - whenever I was under his supervision, Herman was always most interested in doing a bar check on the topless bar located underneath Hector's, and he would often take me with him. Needless to say I was always eager to go!

Some of the most interesting things I was involved in were the "great pursuit" which started on Rosemary St, behind the Varsity Theatre and ended just outside of Hillsborough on OLD Hwy 86 (through Carrboro.) We observed a youth riding a motorcycle at a high rate of speed and fell in behind him. Once he realized we wanted him to stop, he sped up and the pursuit was on. Vernon Sikes was the dispatcher that evening. As we entered Carrboro on Rosemary St, at speeds approaching 70 mph, the motorcyclist threw his helmet at us and cracked the cruiser windshield. We continued on and went almost to the town of Hillsborough on Old Hwy 86, a very narrow and windy road. I wasn't driving that night and the officer I was with was the black officer who always patrolled what we called "the west end" of town. As we approached speeds of nearly 80 mph on this road, I swear I saw my young life flash before my eyes more than once, thinking we were surely going to die wrapped around a tree or telephone pole. Eventually we got the Hillsborough officer (only one on duty) to join us in what is called a "running road block" where we trapped the culprit between two cruisers and slowed him down to the point he was forced into a shallow ditch and gave up the chase. When I got out of the cruiser, ready to punch his lights out, adrenalin coursing through my veins, I looked down to see the face of a 14 year old child - but to this day I do understand how officers involved in such life threatening pursuits can get so pumped up and stressed they would want to immediately beat the suspect to within an inch of their life (ala, Rodney King!) - Fortunately, for him, we remained composed and took him home to his parents and went back on patrol, after charging him with the theft of the motorcycle.

While still in training, my officer went home to lunch and turned the cruiser over to me to go on patrol for a half hour while he ate. As I were patrolling the entire town and not one particular zone, I ventured up to the west end, near the Carrboro line, a not so good area in those days, and came upon a fight between two men who were knife fighting in a dirt parking lot that was a hangout at night. As I pulled up, one dropped his knife and ran, I arrested the other and the crowd dispersed quickly. I never did find the other party and charges were eventually dropped because of that.

Another evening, while on patrol on Strowd's Hill, I observed a car full of young men who were driving erratically - there were at least 6 people in the car. My mistake was stopping them at the very top of the hill where there is a big curve and no shoulder. I hurriedly arrested the driver for driving drunk and handcuffed him in front (another not so smart move on my part) placing him in the back of my cruiser, while waiting for a wrecker to tow the car and my Sergeant to tell me what to do with the 5 others who did not appear to be drinking but were pretty mouthy. When I turned my back the arrestee was suddenly gone and we spent the next several hours hunting for him to no avail. I still have no idea how he got out of those handcuffs.

One night, while off duty and home sound asleep, my phone rang at about 1AM and I was summoned to the police department ("don't ask any questions, get in your uniform and be here within 30 minutes!") - turns out there was a huge drug bust/sting that had been undercover for more than a year, with lots of buys, we were assigned in groups of three (there were Sheriff's deputies and state troopers as well) to serve several warrants - I recall we went a few miles out of town toward Hillsborough and up some dirt trail, ultimately to a shiny silver Airstream like trailer sitting oddly in the woods - no lights, no evidence of human existence other than the trailer itself - we knocked and eventually forced entry, arresting the half naked man inside who was talking to us but refused to open the door, confiscating what we thought was a huge quantity of drugs and paraphernalia - only to find out when we returned with our stash, that others had all had even greater success and there were what I would deem to say hundreds of pounds of drugs and illegal substances all sitting on tables in the squad room - it was a huge bust and we arrested about 23 people that night.

One very bitter cold winter night, it was sleeting and icy out, I followed a VW bug down Strowd's Hill and the driver was driving pretty fast for the conditions and when he went over that little bridge before Estes Drive, he flew right over it, no problem (I guess having the engine in the rear helps) - however my cruiser did not fare so well and I spun totally out of control, spinning around what seemed like a half dozen times and just barely missing a big metal pole. I remember being so embarrassed because the clerk where I usually stopped for coffee at the convenience store just over the bridge was standing outside and witnessed it all. I regained control of my vehicle and attempted to catch up to the VW, but had lost sight of it. As I passed Eastgate and went up on the flyover, I observed car lights shining over the embankment and I saw the driver of the VW had finally run out of luck and spun out on the second bridge, plunging down the embankment and striking a tree. Rescue was called and I had never seen anything like that in my life - it was truly horrific - the driver's leg had penetrated the floor board of the VW and they had to saw off his foot to get him out. It turned out to be two Duke Football players who had been to Chapel Hill for the evening. Bad as I hate Duke, I never felt as sorry for a Duke team as I did that night. Both players were seriously injured.

Another interesting night was after a UNC-Duke basketball game, myself and another officer were summoned to "big frat court" to quiet down the music and a water balloon fight going on between two feuding fraternities. It was an interesting moment, arriving at what was nearly a riot and watching no less than 50 drunken students acting like 12 year olds. I recall getting on my loudspeaker and demanding that they all immediately cease and desist and return to their own house or risk arrest. Within minutes the big frat court was empty like a Sunday night in mid-summer. I had never felt so much control before!

Bob Jurgensen - Chapel Hill Police Officer 1970 - 1973

So, why did I leave the Police Department? After nearly three years of service I began to realize that my personality was not one that mixed well with others operating primarily on a political agenda, I guess would be the best explanation. One night in late 1973 I was on routine patrol on 15-501 at about 2am - leaving Glen Lennox and heading to Eastgate when I fell in behind a Lincoln Town car driving erratically. Feeling certain the driver was probably drunk, I pulled him over and administered a field sobriety check and in my opinion, he was inebriated, so I placed him under arrest and called for a wrecker to tow his car. What happened next was perhaps a reflection of the times and political clout. My Lieutenant, Charlie Edmundson, showed up, asked me what was going on, and I explained that the driver was under arrest for DWI. I was told to return to patrol and that he would handle it from there. I initially protested and was rebuked by the lieutenant. So I did as told and well and later found out the driver  was a member of the Board of Aldermen. The dispatcher had run his tag and the Lieutenant was alerted and the rest is history. The alderman was UNarrested (technically, under NC law, only a judge or magistrate can UNarrest a suspect - but not that night.) The case never went to court, no publicity whatsoever and so a drunk who would likely strike again got off.

Once I arrested a stoned pedestrian student, walking down the middle of Franklin Street after midnight, pockets chock full of peyote. He was incarcerated. The evidence was collected and sealed and stored in the evidence refrigerator, but the evidence eventually disappeared and the case was dismissed. Found out later his dad was a big wig at Bank of America in Charlotte (formerly NC National Bank).

There was a blind judge in those days who tried most traffic cases, and there was also Judge Stanley Peele, who I believe is still alive today, and was one of the Judge's I best recall. He was fair but stern, and I regularly tried cases in his courtroom, but I did lose one case before him. The case revolved around another influential student, charged with driving recklessly at Columbia and Franklin Streets, and I never got over that one. Again I felt because of the undue "influence" inflicted on the prosecution that the case was dismissed and that was the one that broke my spirit. The next day I turned in my resignation and eventually moved to Virginia for a new job in law enforcement. I found political influence is alive and well in Virginia also, and so for the past 27 years I have been a real estate broker.

In those days, Chapel Hill was ripe with influence peddling. Having never been subjected to political tricks and games, I was and to this day, remainone of those who believe "you did the crime, you should do the time (or pay the fine)".  But those well heeled among us obviously have a different set of rules and while I am not naive, and there are two sets of rules for the haves and the have-nots.

Photos and photo captions provided by Charly Mann

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by Charly Mann 

A mid 1950's ad for Sid Rancer's iron furniture

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.

Sid Rancer's used steel ad from 1958

Bob Jurgensen's Recollections of Sid Rancer:

I recall coming home to Chapel Hill after serving in the Coast Guard and discovering Sid and my stepdad Kai Jurgensen were like brothers, attached at the hip. My best recollection was of Sid in the lead role of the Playmaker's (Kai Jurgensen, a Dramatic Arts Professor at UNC was the director I think) "Fiddler on the Roof" - he was perfect in that role - incredible as I recall. Sid was quite a character and a bundle of fun to be around - he would take all comers and tackle any subject matter.

My first day on the job at the Chapel Hill Police Department, Sid and Kai celebrated with me by enjoying shooters (It was also my 21st birthday). We got pretty sloshed, drinking Mexican Beer w/Tequila shooters and the sucking limes - that's all I remember, but it went on for hours. It took me two days to sober up.

Sid owned a junk yard (or a recycling of metals facility, I'm not really sure) in Durham where he would crush cars and recycle metals - he also made a great of commercial art for hotels and resorts. I still have several pieces of his work he gave my mother and she passed on to us before she died. Vi, his wife, recently sold the property after renting the facility for many years. She lives now with her daughter, Robin, in Chapel Hill.

Sid did a brisk business in the 1950s selling clothes line posts in Chapel Hill

Marketing and ornamental metal work are still a tradition in the Rancer family. His daughter, Gayle Rancer, is a jewelry maker and radio marketer in Hinton, West Virginia.

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