Welcome to our blog, Sit A Spell: Stories from the Museum's Porch!
For history buffs and non-history enthusiasts, alike, this blog will continue telling the stories of North Carolina beyond the physical walls of the NC Museum of History! Sit A Spell will show the reader how drastically things have changed (or haven’t) in this wonderful state, and shed light on lesser-known figures and events from North Carolina, bringing their history to life.
By Chelsea Weger
Educators, this one’s for you! You probably know the North Carolina Museum of History as a field trip destination, but you might not know about the wealth of educational resources we offer for use outside of the building.
By Andre Taylor
Inside, I cheered as the shuttle soared into space, still paying close attention to what I was witnessing. And then, a voice from inside the shuttle reported back to mission control, “Throttle up.”
By Sally Bloom
It’s simple. Making films is making history. Watching films is participating in shared culture and history. Stay with me here, because this is a subject near and dear to my heart. I am an educator at a history museum. And I am a film festival director at a history museum.
By Charlie Knight
Although the United States did not officially enter World War I, or the Great War as it was known at the time, until April 1917, Americans were involved in the conflict almost from the beginning. One of the first was a nurse from Asheville named Madelon Hancock.
By Kerry Burns
Adversity, by definition, means “a state or instance of serious or continued difficulty or misfortune.” Born in Rocky Mount on September 8, 1907, the boy who became known as Buck Leonard was familiar with the term.
By Kerry Burns
May the Fourth be with you! No, we’re not using an old Jedi mind trick on you; that really is a picture of a street called Yoda Drive, located in the town of Grover, North Carolina. In fact, this isn’t the only street named after a beloved Star Wars character in Grover.
By Michael Ausbon
Growing up as a young lad in Martin County, I passed many an afternoon into evening out with my Grandmother on her front porch. To this day, I still recall the perfume of the gargantuan gardenia bushes surrounding the porch like a fortress and the staccato cadence of raindrops performing their free concert on her tin roof.