THE STATE WE RE IN
The Death Of Aunt Bee
The death of Frances Bavier of
Siler City on December 7 at the
age of86 touched any number of
people who probably couldn’t na me her
or find Siler City on the map.
They mourned someone else, of
course, Aunt Bee of Mayberry, North
Carolina, thanks to Miss Bavicr’s
Emmy-winning portrayal ofthat char-
acteron “The Andy Griffith Show” from
1960 to 1968. She was the wonderful
aunteveryone adores — reliable, kind-
hearted. ever-helpful and an excellent
cook.
You don’t ha ve to be one of the legions
of fans who have kept the series in
perpetual reruns on stations nation¬
wide for two decades to appreciate just
what Aunt Bee meant to her television
family and audience. Like Sheri (TAndy
Taylor and the show itself, she sym¬
bolized solid, old-fashioned values that
recent generations seem to need help
in rediscovering.
Although she spent many years in
the fictional North Carolina town on
television, the New York native didn’t
actually move to the Tar Heel State
until 1972, when the show and its
“Mayberry RFD" spinoff had ended
their runs.
Sadly, by most accounts, Miss
Bavier’s 17 years in the real North
Carolina weren't particularly happy
ones. She reportedly tired of the fans
whotrekkedtoSilerCitytocallonAunt
Bee, refused interviews and generally
lived out her life as a recluse whose
only real company was a houseful of
cats.
All of this sparked some speculation
that Miss Bavier might have found that
the reality of North Carolina didn’t
measure up to its fictional counterpart.
It’s impossible, of course, for any place
to live up to the amiable small town
portrayed in the television series. Just
like every other state, we have prob¬
lems far too complex to grapple with in
the format of 30-minute situation
comedy.
But whatever shortcomings she
encountered, one of Miss Bavier’s acts
might have been most telling about
what she really thought of the state:
Once she moved toNorth Carolina, she
never left. For a woman of her widely
traveled background, presumably
with the means to have resettled
"Catherine," on the far right of the top row, is pictured with
the other prize-winning dolls from around the country.
There Are Dolls,
And There Are Dolls!
Stamps and coins aren’t the only
pricey collectiblesattractingtheat-
tentionofinvestorsthesedays.Just
ask Jim or Jerri McCloud, owners
of Dolls By Jerri in Charlotte.
The 14-year-old company pro¬
duces more than 5,000 hand-made
dolls a year in about 20 different
designs. So acclaimed are the com¬
pany’s dolls that one of its 1989
models, •'Catherine," was recently
awarded the Dolls Magazi ne Award
of Excellence at an international
doll show in Tbledo, Ohio.
“We were pleased," Jim McCloud
says. “She was the best in the coun¬
try.”
“Catherine," chosen by the maga¬
zine’s readers from 65 nominees,
was deemed best in the category for
porcelain dolls costing $501 to
$1,000. The doll, which retails for
$600, wasoriginally nominated last
February by a panel of 37 judges at
the 1989 American International
Toy Fair in New York City.
At 21 inches tall, with blue eyes
and long, blonde hair, "Catherine"
wears an ivory, satin brocade gown
with seed pearls and satin bows.
When her rhinestone tiara and
peach, satin overcoat are removed,
she becomes a bride doll, with a lace
veil and silk floral bouquet. Only
1,000 copies of her were made.
The Dolls Magazine award is one
of a handful that the 14-year-old com¬
pany has won over the years,
McCloud said. Just recently, Jerri
McCloud designed a one-of-a-kind
princess doll for an auction at Walt
Disney World. The doll sold for
$2,700, her husband said.
If you’re interested in starting a
collection of you’re own, or if you’re
just wondering where you can win¬
dow-shop for “Catherine" and dolls
like her, call the McClouds’ whole¬
sale shop at (704) 333-3211.
Pbo«o: Dolh macaun»
The Slale/January 90
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