During 1965, the peak year for the Sidetrack coffeehouse, some of the most popular acts in the booming folk and blues movement came to Raleigh. You can seek out their recordings, reissued in CD, or listen online to brief selections from each.

The dried-out wooden pilings beneath Lewis Lloyd's multimillion-dollar Beacon Hill townhouse were rotting out from under him.

Just as Bostonians are worried about the water-encased pilings that support their properties, custodians of North Carolina's Cape Hatteras Lighthouse feared for its similar support system in the 1990s.

In 1957, archaeologists determined that the remains of the historic fort at Jamestown no longer existed and had probably washed into the James River. But a young graduate student named William Kelso wasn't convinced.

Written, assembled and translated over many centuries, the Holy Bible is the most printed and most read book in human history, influencing everything from art and music to politics and pop culture.

From his office window, Olyn Cert watched two tourist kids skipping stones on the river. They played knee-deep at the base of a mountain of riprap, one among the hundreds of palisades of quarried rock dumped along the lower Neuse in an attempt to stop the erosion kicked into high gear by Hurricane Isabel.

After hearing the horrible news that all but one of the 13 West Virginia coal miners trapped in an an underground explosion had died instead of surviving, as first announced, I walked into the brilliant sunshine and breathed deep of the crisp air.

Walking on a beach in the afternoon sun, while taking in a spacious view of the sea and the mesmerizing waves or scanning the great horizon for signs of life, one often feels that time is standing still.

Karl Fleming recently visited Morehead City to talk about his riveting new memoir, "Son of the Rough South." Raised on a tenant farm in Eastern North Carolina and in the Methodist Orphanage in Raleigh, he became one of Newsweek magazine's star report

My culinary journey through the Jewish South began in my hometown of Blytheville, Arkansas, a community that defined both my Judaism and my love for food. I am often asked, "How did you get interested in food?"

I began this poem for Fred Chappell a while ago, responding to the famous Villon lines he quoted in a letter.

"Thank God I'm alive," said Verna Gueringer, 66, from New Orleans, who was photographed in September at an evacuation center in the Triangle with one of her few possessions, an old set of dominoes.