CityView Magazine - Fayetteville, NC
Issue link: http://www.epageflip.net/i/1252068
Cit yV iewN C.com | 9 FDIC INSURED All we see is you , NOW TRUIST 910.868.5131 | 3200 Cliffdale Road, Fayetteville, NC 28303 | www.fayacademy.org Fayetteville Academy Fayetteville Academy admits qualified students and does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national or ethnic origin, or religion in the administration of admissions, educational policies, financial aid, athletic programs, or other activities. Preparing students for college and beyond CELEBRATING 50 YEARS OF ACADEMIC EXCELLENCE! RANKED #1 IN THE NICHE.COM 2020 BEST PRIVATE K-12 SCHOOLS IN THE FAYETTEVILLE AREA The 35 members of the Class of 2019 were offered more than $3.2 million in college scholarships and grants. 76 percent of AP exams taken resulted in a score of 3 or higher. Chromebook and iPad programs | Grades 4-7 LEGO ® Robotics Team Middle/Upper School STEAM SmartLab ® | Lower School SmartLabs ® opening Fall 2020 More than $500,000 in need-based financial aid awarded annually to qualified applicants. exploring the option of someone else helping to eat the fish. As I turned off Beard Road in Eastover, several miles and two turns from the house, I began to look for potential helpers. Not long aer completing the turn, I saw a fellow about my age or so weeding the cracks of his driveway with a spade. A country boy doing his own yard work on a Saturday aernoon was a likely candidate. I stopped and hollered out the window – "Hey bud, I have caught more fish today than I can eat. ey are little, but they sho' be sweet. Won't you take some?" I knew immediately that this fellow had fished in his life. His gaze was toward me, but his eyes saw what was in his mind. He was thinking back to fishing with his granddaddy as a boy, but not so much to the fishing as to the obligatory cleaning of the fish. I knew he could taste my offering in his mind, but I knew he was weighing the reward against the work that would have to precede any benefit. Finally, almost reluctantly, he said, "I'll take five." He went inside for a pan and I slipped six into it while we made neighborly exchanges about nothing either one of us remember today. Again, I was off. Nineteen more bass in the cooler needed a home. Or at least a kitchen. Just before making the next turn, I saw a tiny woman in a bonnet, a facemask, sunglasses and work gloves trimming her shrubs. She was no Edward Scissorhands at it. As I came up upon her, I saw her snip one little frond, li it from the remaining limbs and gently place it in her wheelbarrow. I again brought the truck to a halt. Geriatric African-American lady, doing her own hedge trimming, country clothes, modest home. Absolutely, she had eaten fish such as mine in her life.