December 2003

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Over the past weekend, we in the Chapel Hill area lost a friend, Wallace Kuralt. He was mainly known here as the owner of the Intimate Bookshops.

In the article I've linked, there are many comments about the bookshop, and rightfully so. I loved that place from the first time I ever walked into it. Yes, there were several Intimates---but my favorite was the one down on Frankin Street.

I had the same experience mentioned in the article---no matter how long I wanted to browse through the store, it was fine to be there. And it was fine to stop browsing and just listen to the wonderful music on the sound system.

I also knew Wallace as a precinct official where I voted. I got to know the regular workers at that polling place. If I happened to get there at a slow time, it wasn't at all unusual for me to end my voting session standing at the table talking with the four or five of them who were working.

Occasionally Wallace would walk out for a cigarette as I was leaving, and the conversation would continue in a double cloud of smoke. In fact, the last time I saw him, that was what transpired.

Probably everyone who voted in the precinct could tell you a similar story, or at least knew who the man with the white beard was. If not, they probably left wondering who was the man who sounded so familiar---Wallace's voice was very similar to that of his brother, the late CBS newsman Charles.

The Chapel Hill area was lucky to have had Wallace. And he will be sorely missed.

I am participating this year in Holidailies, a group of writers who promise to try very, very hard to update daily all month. I am familiar with the work of quite a few of the writers, and am enjoying becoming familiar with others.