
By Susan Dickson
Staff Writer
There are certain people in small towns who become recognizable to many, whose stories are retold among residents, who become a part of the landscape. They become local celebrities, fixtures of the town. Robert Harman was one such person.
Harman, 73, was riding his bike in the westbound bicycle lane of Main Street on Saturday when he swerved out of the bike lane and into traffic. He later died at UNC Hospitals from injuries sustained in the accident.
This week, Harman’s friends and family bid him farewell, sharing their many stories and memories of the man who dubbed himself “The King of Carrboro.â€
It’s difficult to piece together the stories of Harman’s life, as he told many different accounts of his history to his friends in downtown Carrboro.
“For all the things he’s told me over the years, I could write a book,†said Cliff Collins, owner of Cliff’s Meat Market. “He told a lot of fascinating stories.â€
Harman could often be seen throughout downtown Carrboro – tall and gaunt, with a distinct broken gait and headphones. He spent time playing his guitar at Open Eye Café and at Cliff’s Meat Market, telling Collins about his daily encounters.
Harman was known in town as a war veteran, though depending on who you talk to, he could have fought in either Korea or Vietnam. What’s been told that’s most likely true is that he was a longtime coal miner, born and raised in West Virginia, who left home at 14, Collins said.
“He spent a lot of time down in the ground,†Collins said. “He took lots of chances when he was there.†Collins recalled Harman telling him of an accident in which Harman broke his neck, causing his head to forever have a slight tremor.
Following his life as a coal miner, Harman spent time working on the parking deck at UNC Hospitals, boxing in Alabama and working in Charlotte, Collins said.
Regardless of whether he was a miner, war veteran or boxer, what is certain is that Harman was a man who loved to make friends, talk with strangers and chat with children. He loved music – especially country – and taking pictures, which he often made prints of to give to his photographic subjects.
“He was a loner at first,†Collins said, recalling the first time he met Harman sometime around 1999 or 2000. Harman was riding his bike past Collins’ store and yelled something at him, and Collins yelled back. Harman then came up to him and asked for a job.
A few years later, Harman was kicked out of the homeless shelter for fighting and had nowhere to live. Collins agreed to let him stay in one of the downtown apartments he owns for a few months. A few months turned into seven or eight years, he said, laughing.
After some time here, “his life blossomed,†Collins said.
Over the years, Harman had several run-ins with cars, including a particularly bad accident near the corner of Greensboro and Main streets in 2003. The accidents didn’t keep him from being active, however, and he continued walking and riding his bike around town until the end.
“The circumstances of his death really suit him. I don’t think there’s a way he’d rather go,†said Lydia Lewallen, one of Harman’s close friends and his former neighbor, who first met Harman walking around downtown Carrboro.
“He yelled at me one day. He called me ‘Red,’†said Lewallen, a redhead.
The two shared a hallway between their apartments.
“Most of our time was sharing space,†Lewallen said. “It was really difficult to have a conversation with him.â€
Still, they managed to have a number of conversations, about things like human dignity, racism and mental health.
“He was very much interested in his personal dignity,†Lewallen said. “He had a lot of shame surrounding that. I didn’t know his psychiatric history and I don’t even really think it’s relevant.â€
Harman was an extremely giving person, and spent much of his mining pension buying gifts for others, Collins said.
Lewallen said when her bike was stolen, Harman left one outside her apartment door with a bouquet of fake flowers.
“There was a lot of gift giving,†she said.
Lewallen also recalls Harman’s confidence, and the pleasure he took in being a local celebrity.
“He always used to call himself the King of Carrboro. He was definitely into being known,†Lewallen said.
“He was so impressed with himself,†Collins added. Harman once told Collins that he was the most popular man in Carrboro.
“He was a true character. I know that I’ll never forget him,†Lewallen said.
A memorial service for Harman will be held today (Thursday) at 6 p.m. at Walker’s Funeral Home. Open Eye Café plans to hold a memorial soon as well; check Open Eye for updates.
Robert also loved animals, and always had a pat on the head for Coltrane, my border collie. He would see Coltrane at Open Eye, immediately turn around and walk to Cliff’s Meat Market and return with a dripping raw beef bone. Coltrane could spot Robert from across the street and begin whining and calling to Robert. He called Coltrane his “#1 Best Buddy.” Robert was a one of a kind man, and we are sorry to see him go. Peace, Robert.
I work at CVS in Carrboro, where we have a lot of regulars who we know very well. Robert was one of those. He came in every day, sometimes more than once – and would come to me to print photos, or buy batteries for one of the many electronic devices he had purchased from PTA or CVS. After my first year here, I learned Robert’s “language” – and would often hear all kinds of stories, from Loretta Lynn being his girlfriend, flying his private plane to Tenn. or Hawaii… to playing country shows. He was a trip! I really enjoyed hearing what he had to say, and he was usually very nice to me… always greeting us cashiers with – “hello darlin’!!”… I will truly miss hearing that every day.
I couldn’t believe it when I heard he had passed, my day at CVS wont feel right for quite awhile… Robert, you’re were a rare bird, you will be missed!!
Sad news. Carrboro will not be the same without Robert.
Robert was a good friend. Always will be.
I’m sure he’s still giving us presents from the greatest thrift the mind can imagine.
Long Live the King!
I first met Robert in a small argument that seem to come from misunderstanding about tables out front of Open Eye. I invited him to sit with me. We shared stories and shared West Virginia Pride. What struck me was that being the ego-driven child I was then I paid little attention at that time but Robert seem to take everything I said and stored it to memory. In passing he would say “hey west virginia” and I in return would say “what’s up country roads”; it meant a lot. My favorite was once he quickly frankly said “you’re a little brown for a West Virginian. Sweet man. Glad his individuality is being praised.
As a police captain (now retired) I often received calls from citizens who had their first contact with Mr. Harman. I came to know and like Mr. Harman and will greatly miss his presence in Carrboro. R.I.P. Mr. Harman.
Robert was definately a Country fan. He was my best cassette customer in my store in the late 90s (one of my few cassette customers, really). Always called me “bossman”, maybe because of owning my store. When I started doing the annual CD/LP show at The Century Center, he had switched to CDs- and always bought a bunch. There was a story with every purchase- “I played with Johnny Cash (or Loretta Lynn)”- and he said it with such sincerity that I alwasy kinda believed him. Maybe he did… Interesting character and a nice man.
The story among my circle when I spent lots of time at the Open Eye was that Robert had been a soldier who, after the war (he was a Korean vet), was recruited by the CIA for a secret test project. The project, MK-ULTRA, was later shut down for its unethical practices and Robert received a generous monthly pension from the government. We’d see a brunette lady at least once a week, who’d show up and remind Robert to “take his medicine,” and then take him aside for a secret, quiet conversation which he always seemed anxious about. Some of us suspected the acid tests continue…
My boyfriend, Fernando, and I met Robert on our first date, at Open Eye. He came to talk to us about his life (I understood that he was a Vietnam vet), and then pulled out a paper bag full of jewelry from his jacket pocket. I still have the watch he gave me and the ring he gave to Fernando to put on my finger and make a wish. We’ll miss seeing Robert walking around town and hanging out in Open Eye.
I met Robert at one of my first gigs after moving here before my first album came out in early ’07. I was playing the Open Eye, knew no one in town, and Robert sat and listened to my set attentively and then took the tip jar from table to table and collected money for me. Well I was floored. What a warm thing to do.He really got what I was going through. Saw him from time to time after that and we always had a short talk. Great guy!!!!! Will be missed. He was “The King”.
While in Carrboro, one could not avoid running into Robert, even if they tried! I first saw Robert couple of years ago on the lawn of Weaver St. Market, listening to a band. He was a remarkable sight to behold. A tall, lanky man, who would look even taller but for his stooping gait. He had a guitar in one hand, a baseball cap that read “OBAMA”, headphones draped around his neck and an assortment of trinkets in his other hand. That first sighting of him turned into a routine for me while I became a CH/Carrboro local.
I always expected to see Robert during my daily stop at the Open eye cafe. I suppose I might still see him walking around, or sitting on a chair. I suppose all it’ll take is to blur my eyes a little, recall some of the music he liked and just look around and see the regular crowd of people who knew him, talked with him, fought with him, tolerated him, and just liked him for who he was – a unique man in a time when everyone conforms to the norm.
I had a conversation with Robert at the Open Eye back in April, about his photo with John F. Kennedy. That’s right, it was a reprint of a magazine photo which he had framed, showing Kennedy visiting coal miners in West Virginia during the 1960 presidential election. Robert was standing right behind him with some other miners.
Robert came over and gave my son a sack of children’s books a few months ago in the open eye. He also gave my family treats for our dogs over the years. He will be much missed.
May each of us find our way
to be as authentically ourselves
as Robert did.
Robert’s enthusiasm for Present Moment
is his legacy for those of us
still trying to get a deeper taste of that.
When I was little, before and just after my brother was born, we would always go to the open eye on weekend mornings – somewhat of a tradition. Robert would always be there. As soon as he saw us he would walk over and give us all hugs and tell us how great we all were, and how he wished for a wonderful future for me and my brother. Robert was a great person and will definitely be missed.
I didn’t know Robert personally but he was a dear friend of my brother Chris. Chris hangs out in Chapel Hill and became close friends of Robert. He would often send my mother Lucille…who is bed ridden and 88 yrs young… gifts. One was a picture of Robert, another was a necklace which looked like it was sharks teeth. I remember Chris bringing it to my Mom and putting on on my Mom’s neck. I thought that was so sweet of Robert and my Mom enjoyed the attention even though she never got to meet him personally. R.I.P. Robert…you will be missed by many :)
He looks eerily like Harry Dean Stanton in “Paris, Texas.”
Robert took a shine to my 1 year old son Velo who was playing near his feet while I attended a meeting at Open Eye. He disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a toy car for Velo. The car is silver and at least a foot in length…Velo loves to walk around our house holding it by its spoiler so it dangles at his side. Now it also serves as a memory of this kind man.