It was just after 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning when I woke to screams of “Help.” I roused my husband, and ran downstairs to see someone banging frantically on our sliding glass door. Panicked, I couldn’t get it unlocked so I ran out the front entrance and called 911.
“Someone is screaming for help at my back door,” I said to the dispatcher. “I don’t know what is going on.” It was then I saw a plume of smoke billowing from my neighbor’s roof. Our homes shared a wall at the Oak Villas Condominiums. A man, whose name I can never remember, was lying motionless on the grass. “There’s a fire!” I told the woman on the phone. “Someone is badly hurt.” Read more here. ASHEVILLE — Keynon Lake founded My Daddy Taught Me That in 2012 in part because of his father.
A social worker and community service navigator for Buncombe County Health and Human Services, Lake was constantly going in and out of single-parent, fatherless homes. Although he knew he would never be able to fill the gap, he could provide role models to male youth and offer them some stability. He could also honor the work of his dad. Bennie Lake, who passed away in 2010, played ball for the Harlem Globetrotters, before spending three decades working at the Juvenile Evaluation Center in Swannanoa. He was also deeply committed to youth and sports, leading a program called The Hot Shot, a camp for the state's best basketball shooters, and founding Up Front Sports Management, a business focused on encouraging young athletes to continue their education. He did a lot for Asheville, helping youth and families, Lake said. "He was a local hero. If you got in trouble or needed advice or guidance, you would call on him." These days, local youth are going to his son. Read more here. ASHEVILLE – For as long as I can remember, my Christmases have always involved giving, not just to friends and family, but to total strangers whom I only know from a tag.
Every year growing up, our church would have a Salvation Army Angel Tree in the back. Without fail, one Sunday my mom would take us to pick out a child. Not all families can afford gifts, she would explain. Pick someone to help out. I used to think this was glorious fun. Some years I'd pick a baby, other years I'd find someone my own age. I would daydream about the person I was helping, using the clues provided. I knew their name, gender and age. There was also a short wish list, so I knew the things they liked. Buying Angel Tree gifts and wondering about the children behind the tags is a tradition I carried with me into adulthood. Each year, as I do my own Christmas shopping, I always grab one or two tags from the Angel Tree at the mall. New to Asheville, I was delighted a few weeks ago when a colleague told me that the Citizen-Times participates in Angel Tree giving. She left two tags on my desk — one for a middle-school-aged boy named Jonathan who wanted a basketball, and another for a girl, Nashana, who was addicted to Barbie and Hello Kitty. When the Salvation Army of Buncombe County invited me to come volunteer at the toy giveaway and actually watch parents come and get their gifts, I couldn't believe it. After all these years, I was finally going to see the faces behind the tags. Read more here. ASHEVILLE – The best thing about CARING for Children's big house in West Asheville on Thursday evening was the people inside. While it was true that each girl there had her own story of abuse and neglect that would make anyone's heart flinch, you wouldn't know that by siting down to a meal.
"We're just like anyone else," said resident Zena Redmond, 18. "We want the same things; we just don't always get the same things, or even get them at all." Called Cornerstone, the house is a transitional living home for girls ages 16-21 with nowhere else to go. Just like my sister and I used to do in the early 1990s, the girls at Cornerstone style each other's hair. They argue with their moms over the phone. They eat dinner in their pajamas. They have dreams of being models, actresses and teachers. They can't wait to finish high school and go off to college. They take turns doing chores. They share rides to school. And, even though they won't all admit it over this particular meal of pork chops, cabbage and mashed potatoes, Redmond insists, they see each other as family. Sometimes they love each other; other times they can't wait to get away. Read more here. |
Beth WaltonWriter, World Traveler, Mother. These are my stories. Archives
August 2018
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