Category: Preservation Rocky Mount, NC

The Doorknobs of Yesterday – Unlocking Our Rocky Mount, NC Future

These photographs are from my Pinterest Boards that I have collected over time There’s something about an old doorknob that stops me in my tracks. The weight of it in my hand, the patina of age, the craftsmanship—these small details whisper of lives once lived, of voices, of hands turning the knob at the end … Continue reading The Doorknobs of Yesterday – Unlocking Our Rocky Mount, NC Future →

The Architectural Charm of Main Street Entrances – Rocky Mount,NC

Walking along Main Street in Rocky Mount is like stepping into a living history book, where each storefront tells a story. The entrances of these historic commercial buildings, many dating back to the early 1900s, are not just doorways but invitations—welcoming customers into spaces that have served generations of residents. Add to your 'Talking Main … Continue reading The Architectural Charm of Main Street Entrances – Rocky Mount,NC →

A House Waiting For Its Future: Rocky Mount, NC

The tin roof, rusted and worn, once echoed with the sound of summer rain. Its wooden sides, now faded, held warmth long ago, sheltering a family whose voices filled these rooms. An awning that should come down. The front door, boarded shut, was once flung open to welcome neighbors, laughter, and the everyday rhythm of … Continue reading A House Waiting For Its Future: Rocky Mount, NC →

Preservation and Possibility: What ‘Before and After’ Homes Teach Us #2

A house, like a life, holds its story in its heart. Some stand weary but strong, their timbers whispering of laughter once shared, storms endured, and years that slipped quietly past. When we see a house on the verge of collapse, we might be tempted to look away—to believe its time has passed. But then … Continue reading Preservation and Possibility: What ‘Before and After’ Homes Teach Us #2 →

Stepheny’s Hand On The Brick Walls of Main Street

There’s something grounding about touching a brick wall. Maybe it’s the cool roughness under my fingertips, or the quiet weight of time pressed into each mortar line. These walls, with their weathered hues and enduring strength, are more than just structures—they are storytellers. As I’ve walked Main Street, hand to brick, I’ve felt the whispers … Continue reading Stepheny’s Hand On The Brick Walls of Main Street →