For Nita Owenby, former (unofficial) Mayor of Gerton, it’s all about community. Whether it’s volunteer work, advocacy, or employment, for her it comes down to caring for the people in her life—family, friends, neighbors, and those whose paths have not yet crossed hers.
Gerton childhood
“I was born and raised here; my folks [Roy and Marjorie Owenby] were too,” she says and then corrects herself, explaining that her parents were originally from Bat Cave not Gerton, where she and her brother, Roy, Jr., were born.
Owenby’s smile comes easily; her laugh does too. “I grew up going to the Chestnut Hill Swimming Pool where you could spend the whole day for fifty cents. We would take our own snacks, and a little extra money for the jukebox, and stay all day,” she recollects, eyes twinkling from the nostalgia. The pool, coincidentally built by her dad who worked as a stone mason and builder, was across from the Gerton Community Center.
“It’s really the Upper Hickory Nut Gap Community Center.” Owenby enunciates the proper title, adding a touch of hoity-toity to go along with it. Then she laughs, drops the pretense, and waves away the formality, “But everybody just calls it the Gerton Community Center.”
From Community Center to Fire Department
Owenby’s connection to the place, whatever you call it, is deep and wide. “That’s where we started the Gerton Volunteer Fire Department,” she says.
Indeed, back in 1975 when Nita Owenby was a recent graduate of Edneyville High School (where the NC Justice Academy is now housed), she became one of the founding members—and the only woman—of the Gerton Volunteer Fire Department. “We didn’t have any fire protection or medical attention in our community, and so several of us got together and raised money for a fire department.”
Quick reminder: Gerton is not what you’d call a busy metropolis with streets lined with gold. It’s a community of around 200-400 people, depending on the season (summer residents double the population). And starting a fire department? That cost hits somewhere between astronomical and insurmountable.
Two trucks and a phone tree
But when it comes to community needs, Owenby’s determination is unmatched. “We had fish fries, potlucks, baked sales, raffles, stuff like that,” she says, listing some of the fundraisers she helped organize way-back-when. “Plus, we had a lot of free labor. Everybody pitched in.” And so, the Gerton Volunteer Fire Department became a reality. Owenby’s smile broadens as she reminisces. “We started out with two trucks and a phone tree!”
Yep, that’s right: a phone tree—the 1970s version of a group text. This was back in the days of corded land lines and long-distance calls. A phone tree was a quick, reliable way to spread important news. It worked like this: a call came—probably to the Owenby house—then whoever received it called the next person on the list and so on until all volunteers were contacted. Radios came along shortly thereafter; you know, when they raised more money.
Promotion and growth
The teenaged Owenby started out at the GVFD as the traffic officer, driver of one of their two trucks. Soon, she and her brother and a few others completed EMT training so the department would be better prepared for emergencies like medical crises and automobile accidents which made up the bulk of their calls.
From traffic officer, Owenby was promoted to lieutenant and then captain. She never lost her love for driving the truck though. “I’ve crawled on my belly to put out fires or whatever, but it’s not my favorite,” she laughs. “I tell you what, though: I thoroughly enjoyed driving the truck. The lights and sirens. . . that’s an adrenaline rush!”
Owenby was behind the wheel at GVFD from 1975 to 2008 and was the only woman for the first 10 years. During that time, the GVFD outgrew its space at the Community Center, relocated a couple of times, and finally settled across from the Gerton Post Office.
“Now they have paid fire fighters,” Owenby says, shaking her head. “Boy, I never thought I’d see that!”
From Fire Department to Nita’s Grocery
As the GVFD grew, earned county funding, and became self-sustaining, Gerton residents were increasingly frustrated by another aggravation common to many small communities. Stores that prospered when folks routinely traveled via country roads, closed as highways rerouted traffic around instead of through the little village. It meant that residents were having to go a long way to purchase necessities and little indulgences.
Nita Owenby noticed. “Nita’s Grocery started out in Bat Cave, but moved to Gerton four years later in 1986.” The location? The space available at the community center, the one left vacant when the GVFD moved on up the road.
Nita’s Grocery remained a haven for locals for nearly 25 years, closing in 2010. “I ran it with my mom,” Owenby says with fondness. “She would be there every day running the store. She loved it! And everybody loved her too,” she says. “People would come in specifically to see her. They’d pull up a chair next to her and say, ‘I’ve just come to see Marge!’”
Of course, there were also paying customers. “My biggest seller was longhorn cheese. Folks would come from all over the country, and I’d sell that stuff by the pound. That and a bottled coke. There’s nothing like a cold coke in a bottle.” Owenby, a dealer of coca-cola memorabilia even now, knows a thing or two about the need for a refreshing drink.
In addition to running Nita’s Grocery with her mother, she’s had a side lawn care business since 1999. “I’ve got three folks working for me,” she says, “but I still do part of the physical labor too.” No surprise there. Owenby seems to have energy to spare.
New Moon Marketplace
In March 2016, Owenby started her newest venture: New Moon Marketplace, vintage and antique shop. “I’ve always loved collectibles and antiques and sold stuff like that at the Grocery,” she says. With 27 venders selling everything from art and antiques, handicrafts and housewares, New Moon has weathered the pandemic (she closed for seven weeks early on) and is attracting some of the old clientele. “It kind of has the feel of the old place,” she says.
“I guess I’d call myself an entrepreneur,” Owenby responds when asked how she defines her life’s work. “A starter-upper,” she simplifies, laughing at her homespun expression.
Spend much time with Nita Owenby, and you’ll likely feel like you’ve started up a new friendship, maybe even a community.
This piece first appeared in our local paper, The Fairview Town Crier, where I write a monthly column called Folks of Fairview. You can read the Crier online here.
