Steer wrestling, a practice credited to legendary cowboy and rodeo star Bill Pickett, usually involves leaping onto a steer from the back of a specially trained horse. At the Madison
Put ramekins on a baking sheet. Bake for 25-35 minutes, until puffed and golden. Remove from oven, and let stand for 5 minutes. With a flexible spatula, remove strata to
A snapshot is just that: a frozen frame of a fleeting moment in time, devoid of context. And so, there is more to this 1952 photograph of Curtis Phillips, all
A snapshot is just that: a frozen frame of a fleeting moment in time, devoid of context. And so, there is more to this 1952 photograph of Curtis Phillips, all
A snapshot is just that: a frozen frame of a fleeting moment in time, devoid of context. And so, there is more to this 1952 photograph of Curtis Phillips, all
A snapshot is just that: a frozen frame of a fleeting moment in time, devoid of context. And so, there is more to this 1952 photograph of Curtis Phillips, all of 18 years old, hovering in midair, busting a move during a shoeshining competition at the Reid Community Center in Wilson. It’s one in a remarkable series of pictures taken by the late John G. Zimmerman. He was on assignment for Life magazine, but the photos were never published and remained undiscovered until Zimmerman’s daughter obtained them in 2007.
Outside of the community center was the Jim Crow South. But inside, the center was a joyous affair. Some 1,200 people showed up to watch the event, which was as much about performance as it was about buffing leather. Phillips danced, leaped, and won. Three years in a row. The prize money: $6.
Phillips had been shining shoes since age 12, when he dropped out of school to make money to support his family. At first, he earned 5 cents per customer. As he got better and more popular around town, he upped his fee to 35 cents a customer.
He stuck with it. For the next three decades, Phillips was a shoeshiner at the Cherry Hotel in Wilson, and he raised six children on the money he made. Later in life, after he’d retired and the pictures were discovered, Phillips confessed that he couldn’t remember that particular day, or details of the competition. He approached all his work with the same simple motto: “Shine ’em right. Make sure you shine ’em good. Appreciate the customer,” he told WUNC in 2014.
Phillips died in 2017, but his legacy was more than just a young man in a picture. During a split second on a big night in Wilson, a photographer captured his image, his energy, and his life to come. It was just one moment, but it’s all there — if you know what to look for.
Get our most popular weekly newsletter: We Live Here
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.