On sleepless nights, the Carolina moon guides us. To a full moon, quarter moon, a crescent; to the same moon our parents saw, and their parents, and their parents’ parents, we offer up our dreams, our fears, our secrets. And the moon has its own secrets. They collect, like drops of water, in lunar hiding places. This was the night a young couple fell in love. This is the mysterious way nature signals change to its creatures. This is a corner of the sky you can see only with a telescope. Even when the moon is new, we sense its presence, there win the dark, a quiet companion.
Under a Carolina Moon
During World War II, a chance meeting led to a long-distance romance forever preserved in letters.
This tiny city block in downtown Greensboro once had a gigantic reputation. Not so much for its charbroiled beef patties — though they, too, were plentiful — but for its colorful characters and their wild shenanigans.
In the 1950s, as Americans hit freshly paved roads in shiny new cars during the postwar boom, a new kind of restaurant took shape: the drive-in. From those first thin patties to the elaborate gourmet hamburgers of today, North Carolina has spent the past 80 years making burger history.