Her name was Kate. She was a fabulous hostess, cook, and all-around energetic and talented gal. It was from her that I first heard the pronouncement, “It’s all in the presentation.”
I think a dessert failed for a small dinner party, and an Oreo cookie on a silver plate was her solution. It became her example, and her proof, that indeed, it is all in the presentation.
You know me well enough by now to know that it is exactly this kind of incident that finds its way into my writing about preservation, restoration, and repurposing.
I have my own example of learning about presentation.
While creating a style for the House Biography Series I am writing, I went back and completely redid the Awning Project I had put together in July of 2025. The original fell into that unfortunate category of, “tried to and couldn’t.” The content was good, if I do say so, based on research and my own photographs of Rocky Mount, North Carolina awnings. But the cover was terrible, and the presentation of the information was boring.
The material deserved better.
So I have taken it apart and rebuilt it in the style that has evolved through the House Biography Series.
In Awnings, suddenly the photographs mattered more. The information became easier to see. Individual awnings became exhibits, worthy of looking at closely.
The project did not basically change as much as the way I present it. Once it is printed, I hope people will have new eyes to see.
I feel blessed, not cursed, with a Pollyanna personality. I admit that I often see things through an emotional blur. If you have ever worn sunglasses with yellow lenses, you know exactly how I see things. Everything looks a little brighter to me.
Lord knows, it can be a wonder, but most of the time I see Rocky Mount through those yellow-lens sunglasses. A Main Street commercial building may, in fact, look like hell, but I see the possibilities. I count myself lucky in that.
I have written before about a friend who once told me he thought my job in writing Mainstreetrockymount.com, was to help people see differently, the painting on the wall.
What a gift that turned out to be as I have gone forward with the blog, the new House Biography Series, and this Awning Project. Even a post like this, they all come from wanting you to look at Rocky Mount another more positive way.
Being a Pollyanna does not mean I never grind my teeth, lose faith, become discouraged, or get thoroughly aggravated with the obstacles that stand in the way of progress. I do.
But with a good shake of my head, a nice turn of phrase with a swear word in it, I get myself back up and marvel again at the people of Rocky Mount, at the breadth of its commercial and residential architecture, at the strides already made, and at the clapping of hands because we still believe.
We can curse together, but we can celebrate, too.
Rocky Mount, North Carolina, in its revitalization, has come a far piece. There is still work to be done, buildings waiting to be re-imagined, neighborhoods waiting for attention, possibilities hidden beneath neglect, and people determined to make this a good place for everyone called home.
That Oreo on Kate’s silver plate taught me more than I knew at the time.
The cookie was still an Oreo.
What changed was the way she asked us to see it.
And that, I have come to believe, is part of the work of preservation, too. We take what has been overlooked, dismissed, neglected, or taken for granted, and we place it before people in a way that says, Look again.
A Sneak Preview: The House Biography Series I’ve been working on. I hope you enjoy both the presentation and the stories these houses have to tell.
