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with their pride and joy of 40 years. The year
was 1973, a year before I was born, when Reid
Allison Page, Jr, and Mary Ann produced the
Pinehurst Gazette. From that first issue to #107,
the Gazette recorded their life journey as Reid
and Mary Ann, husband and wife team worked
together during the early days when print was
a “copy-and-paste” operation with hand-drawn
advertisements, crafted illustrations and pasted
copy submitted to the print shop.
Reid A. Page—isn’t this just the PERFECT
name for a newspaper man? And Mary Ann Page
whose initials spell MAP—the perfect name for
the one drawing the original maps! Their names
always bring a smile. And a regret in longing for
more time as this life has welcomed them into
the next. Together they rest side–by–side in the
old Bethesda cemetery circa 1790. Noting their
family among the founders of Aberdeen, it’s
fitting that the beautiful earth that drew their
family now holds their memorials.
It was the pine forests that welcomed the
Pages who brought the railroad to town in 1881.
It was Mr. Allison F. Page, Reid’s namesake, who
sold 598 acres for a $1.25 per acre to a certain
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Mr. James Walker Tufts in 1895, who purchased
the stripped, barren wasteland to grow his
dream of Pinehurst along with the Page’s dream
in Aberdeen. Next time you walk around historic
Aberdeen, look for the name in Page Memorial
Library (1907), Page Memorial United Church
(1913) and Page Trust Company (1914).
From the early founders to our current
locals, the pines continue their whispering sway.
Just look at us now! With names of Pinehurst,
Southern Pines, Pinebluff and Whispering Pines,
our towns record the heritage of harvested pines
and their goods of tar, turpentine and straw. I
am privileged to record the stories of locals who
now leave their footprints in the sand. To hear
their stories is life changing. To tell their stories,
life giving. To share their stories, life sustaining.
The year was 1999, when I first made the call
to the Page’s home on “Three Corners” nestled
in 17 acres of pines. How Reid and Mary Ann
enjoyed their private retreat in the woods right
in the center of the action on Morganton Rd.
They delighted in feeding the fox squirrels and
song birds and in watching the beavers build in
the lowland spring.
The Page home was made of wood with walls
lined in cedar and a Carolina room featuring a
wall of cut tree segments with rings facing the
open room. Decorated in both simplicity and
the quirky, unusual, artistic disposition of Mary
Ann, the house meandered in a maze matching
Reid’s articles. If you remember his layout, one
would read a couple of sentences on a page only
to be led on a hunt searching the other pages for
the rest of the story.
Back to the phone call. Desperate to
share some news discovered that morning,
I made the call to the Pages, who at the time
were transitioning the Gazette from paper to
computer. Sharing a confirmed pregnancy
began my journey into motherhood. One son,
then another, then another... from one to five,
leading to the next important phone call in 2011
which reunited the destiny and fueled the future
of the Gazette. With Mr. Page, now 87 years old
and recognizing the need to secure his wife
upon their retirement, one could now hear the
desperation in his voice. The Gazette was his
baby, his life’s work. Not ready for the Gazette
story to end, he was living his last chapter while
giving life to mine.
Having read my family Christmas letters,
Reid was determined that I was the one to carry
the torch. As persistently as he contacted me, I
reminded him that I was a homeschooling mom
with 5 sons—5 students and unlimited classes.
Business owners will laugh in remembering
his persistent visits for advertisements, a trait
that ran as deep as the tar in the pines. I think
about this life moment. He saw something. He
believed in me when I didn’t. Beyond my wildest
dreams, beyond my own understanding, I said,
“Yes.” And beyond comprehension, I decided
that if I were to own the paper, then I would be
the President in the LLC. They knew. I knew.
Just as a little pine grows from the seedling, to
the grass stage, bottle brush and sapling, the
changes are slow, decades slow, but nonetheless,
they happen. Taking over 30 years sometimes
40 or 50 years for pines to reach maturity, I too.
Becoming a business owner at 37, I was young,
so naive, so tender as the little sapling.
Just as fire helps the little pines grow; my
growth follows our beloved evergreens. FIRE!
When a house fire destroyed our little cottage in
Southern Pines, new life grew. Devastating fire
ravished all, all but the important things in my
family. Every single thing was gone. In a matter
of seconds. Nothing can prepare you for the loss
in helplessly watching your world burn to ashes.
Nothing. However in turn, nothing can prepare
you for meeting the friends, complete strangers,
who come alongside offering help, hope and
compassion through sacrificial giving.
A humbled, broken receiver in desperate
need, I met the Coalition for Human Care, the
American Red Cross, the Interfaith Food Pantry,
the Food Bank... and a plethora of nonprofits
who became the hands and feet of Jesus. In the
darkness, they offered light. My “Giving Back”
column was born out of these ashes. Featuring a
local nonprofit helping locals in need, the Giving
Back articles have become my absolute favorite,
my way to give back. The Coalition for Human
Care was my first story, and in mentioning their
greatest need for more volunteers, 19 volunteers
showed up! Talk about lighting my fire! This is
what it is all about. Neighbors helping neighbors.
No matter the need, our community gives
back. Sustaining the babies within the womb,
the Life Care Pregnancy Center encourages
life. Through the back packs providing food for
the weekend, BackPack Pals sustains the food
insecure. The Boys and Girls Club shelters, while
Mr. Earl of Project Santa provides bikes for any
and all. When Mr. Earl noticed many children
not getting a gift on Christmas morning,
the wheels started turning. And every single
Christmas morning for the past 25 years, he
keeps on giving. The gifts. I tell you. The gifts are
found in the giving!
Amongst the pine forests, our teen boys at
Cameron Boys Camp and teen girls at Camp
Duncan bond over building cabins and camp
fires and ultimately re-build lives. To the
women recovering from substance abuse at
Bethany House to the men at Bethesda. Want an
unbelievable story? You should meet Director
Paige Ingram who went through the program 3
times while in and out of jail and through the
Bethany House window when she broke into the
facility...she now serves as Director mending the
broken. Amazing Grace how sweet the sound!
Feeding the hearts and souls of Seniors, our
community serves up lunch and friendships
from the Robbin’s Diner Club with Kathie Lewis
to the Senior Enrichment Center. Under the
direction of Mr. Michael Cotten, the Food Bank
feeds the local pantry shelves. Truly it takes a
Village! From preserving lives to preserving local
history, the Moore County Historical Association
keeps up the Shaw, Garner and Bryant. While the
Tufts Archives preserves the past of Pinehurst,
and Habitat for Humanity builds the future.
So often, we imagine prodigies of being
“way back then.” Oh, how Grand Maestro
David Michael Wolff founder/conductor of the
Carolina Philharmonic rocked my world as he
provides the gift of exceptional music to all.
From the Grand Maestro, who studied in NYC
and Rome, to the New Horizon’s Band who
invites all the beginners, who put down their
instrument in high school over 50 years ago,
to pick up their dreams and enjoy a new song.
WOW!
Imagine being called to a ministry wherein
you neither have a facility nor transportation,
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p.26 The Pinehurst Gazette, Inc. No. 137
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