When I was growing up, my parents and I would go to Breadmen’s nearly once a week. The vestibule, layered with enough posters for local events that the flyers may well have been structural, was always a fascination to me. As my parents settled the check at the counter on the corner of the bar, I would dawdle in the entryway, running my hand over band names I had never heard of, feeling the slight give that revealed how many pieces of paper formed the barrier between my small hand and the actual wall of the restaurant.
For the Venn Diagram of folks who spent enough time in Chapel Hill to get familiar with the blueberry pancakes at Breadmen’s and are reading a blog post on a Tar Heel Blog, the posters full of Tar Heels past (Coach Davis among them, undoubtedly) that covered nearly every inch of wall space in the old building probably felt like home.