Located on the south end of Glenwood Avenue, Edge Office is part professional/industrial furniture retailer and part workspace. They specialize in providing complete office furnishing solutions for profesional businesses and entrepreneurs.

I first became acquainted with Edge Office during the 30THREADS launch party put on by Ginny Skalski and Wayne Sutton back in July. I was immediately impressed with the environment, if not a bit confused. I wasn’t sure if it was a software company or a coworking environment—turns out it is neither one. They are a professional office furnishings retailer. It is unique in that Edge Office not only serves as a showroom, but also as a functioning demonstration of the equipment and workspace solutions they provide.
Read more »

This past Thursday while waiting for (a very delicious) Thanksgiving dinner at the home of some friends of mine, I decided to walk down to Big John’s Community Grocery, which is on the corner of Edenton Street and Idlewild Avenue. It’s within eyesight of their front porch, and I’ve witnessed some interesting activity there for some time. Curiosity got the better of me, so I decided to walk down to the store and talk to some of the people hanging around outside. While on my way there, I noticed the historic ground marker above.

The inscription reads:

Idlewild Neighborhood, 1891. Idlewild Avenue is the center of Idlewild, an early area of African-American home ownership named after the Battle Family Estate on Cotton Place south of New Bern Avenue. The Raleigh Land and Improvement Company subdivided Idlewild, and the neighborhood grew in the early twentieth century. Bounded by Swain St. on west, Oakwood Avenue on north, Tarboro Road on east, and Edenton Street on south.

Read more »

Just down Hillsboro Street from the former N.C. Equipment Co. and its famous bulldozer sign is a nondescript little concrete block building where a succession of dive bars have occupied the space for decades. But in the late 1960s and early 1970s it was home to Mr. Ribs restaurant. They served ribs and steaks, baked potatoes and lettuce salads, and that was about it. In those days if you wanted a meat and potato meal you went to Mr. Ribs. At least that’s where my dad always took our family.

Back then several gas stations, garages, automotive supply stores, barbershops, laundries and like businesses occupied those two or three blocks of Hillsboro St. between the N.C. Equipment Co. and Fergussen’s Hardware.

Mr. Ribs was an unassuming place and was decked out in typical 1960s steakhouse décor: open kitchen with a blazing grill in the front window, red checkered vinyl table cloths and those ubiquitous netted red candle lamps. There was even a large fake stone gas log fireplace along one wall. As such, Mr. Ribs was an unpretentious, homey joint.

I guess my familiarity with the place was probably why I took a job in the kitchen there the last semester of my sophomore year at N.C. State. I was the dishwasher, and although that is a thankless job if there ever was one, for the most part I enjoyed my stint there. Most of the employees were fellow State students.

At that time I was a vegetarian, and the irony of working around all that meat was not lost on me. We employees were allowed one meal during our shift so I ended up eating a lot of baked potatoes, which I slathered with butter and sour cream. I even took home the unserved baked potatoes and made potato salad.

Every few weeks or so, a local state politico made an appearance with his entourage in tow. The only reason I remember this is because upon his departure he would always tip the kitchen staff. The tip was only a few bucks, but I did think that was a pretty classy gesture.
Read more »