Remembering Tommy Furr, Central High School Prom 1956

Remembering Tommy Furr…

The first stop on Saturday morning around 8 a.m. is Matthews Farmers Market, then I scoot to Phillips Place and Café Monte to have breakfast with BFF, Mary. Then we are off down Fairview to Tyvola to Park Road to Atherton Market.

But after SouthPark shopping center before Tyvola, the earth movers are digging through the red clay.The tears well up quickly. This was once country. “Out Park Road.” People bought home sites and built nice ranch homes here. I remember. Tommy Furr and his family, Mom and Dad and sister moved here when their house was finished. Tommy’s Dad worked at Lance and Tommy was in Central High School and a bag boy at our grocery store. He was darling. Tommy Furr had coal black hair and sparkling blue eyes and the sweetest smile in all the world. He was a year younger than I, five years shyer and had the courage to ask a girl from Myers Park on a date. He from Central and me, well, from Myers Park.

I could see Tommy Furr this morning. See his smile, smell his young boyishness, feel his gentleness and glow from his sweet attention. He asked me to his prom and I went. To Central High’s Prom with Tommy Furr.  Now the house was gone, the landscaping gone, the  whole block was gone, getting ready for others. And I never knew what happened to Tommy Furr. And I feel sorrow that I do not know what happened to this precious young man who kissed me Prom night.

Further on down Park Road on the way to market, I passed another block before Park Road Shopping Center, it, too melting under the weight of earth movers. Our red brick ranch was gone, the driveway was gone, nothing was there but the fleeting memory of my own family, my older brother in the Air Force, my younger brother in high school, my dad, a travelling salesman. They say half of the men in Charlotte left on Monday mornings, our town was growing, folks were on the move. I was working as a Relief Clerk at The Hotel William R. Barringer. A hotel much like The Plaza in NYC in style and class. A uniformed doorman, handsome waiters in white waistcoats, oriental rugs, crystal chandeliers, a place fitting for Richard Nixon and Arthur Rubenstein and Vaughn Monroe but not Leontyne Price. I had to make arrangements for her at The Alexander, the hotel for Afro-Americans, when she came to Charlotte to perform at Ovens. It was my job to drive her to the Alexander Hotel in First Ward, settle her in with her luggage. And when I did I turned and said, “I am sorry.” She looked up and nodded,”I’m okay.” I remember that moment so vividly. The shame I felt.

Further down the street, down Park, I came to Dilworth. When we came Charlotte, my dad’s boss said he must find a house in Dilworth because of the schools. Myers Park High School. And he did. And he left every week while I painted every room, tended the coal burning furnace and drove my brother to all the basketball practices. Jon  pestered me to teach him to play tennis and maybe even golf. Jon C. was and is a most convincing spirit. So we did. And on the golf course, running down a hill steeper than I anticipated with my father’s heavy golf clubs on my shoulder, I ran into a tall man. Golf clubs went everywhere and I hit the dirt, too. Only to have the tall, handsome man come to my aid. He was gorgeous and sweet and a good golfer…and dancer…and kisser.

So, this morning I remembered Tommy Furr and being his first crush, my family seeming comfortable in the brick ranch, we seemed normal, regular. And Dilworth was the best. I watched my Mother flourish as a decorator, my brother come home with the woman he planned to marry and my young brother being a great student, a tender hearted young man who still has a super sense of humor and enduring commitment to the ones he loves. He has been my hero on more than one occasion.

I see them all this morning on the way to market. I relive the seconds in the speed of a shooting star.I am warmed and charmed, delighted and moved. I cry. I laugh and I am most of all grateful.

 So much remembered and I feel the reason I am angry over all the teardowns, all the insipid dangerous over building of apartments, tearing down of houses and leveling blocks of our shops and hang-outs, the places that have made Charlotte so attractive and adorable and profitable, the world wants to come here is because parts of my life are disappearing. I am unafraid of change, I rather relish the challenges they may bring but Leo’s is gone, Kofinas Snack Bar is gone, The Hotel Barringer as it was is gone,  Charlottetown Mall is gone, Eastland is a huge gaping hole, and most of our Mom and Pops are gone, certainly almost all of our favorite restaurants are gone (read locally owned) and the airport is overwhelming in every way, especially the degrading Wilkinson Boulevard and more. I am strong enough to keep memories intact, to keep my passion for Charlotte alive and burning. And if not, I feel blessed to have been here at all. It was the best of times.

Lynnsy Logue Real Estate
408 Wilby Drive, Charlotte, NC 28270 704-651fourfourthreethree
therealestatelady01@yahoo.com