In colonial North Carolina, if you needed to mail a letter, have a tooth pulled, get a divorce, or launch a revolution, you went to a tavern. To get a sense of what you would have found inside one, take a trip to Historic Halifax.
Most people don’t notice the gray lumps. They look like concrete leftovers, not particularly attractive, even for a rock. But Phil Greene sees something more as he walks the beach along Corolla. When he picks up fulgurite, he’s holding petrified energy. And that’s worth holding on to.