When wife Cindy suggests I write about a “teahouse” in Auburn, I’m not too excited. But my deadline is approaching and I don’t have time to plan a truly exciting writing assignment like rappelling from a helicopter into a tropical jungle.
How does an outdoorsman find adventure in a teahouse? Second thought, do teahouses have yummy stuff to eat? See. I’m already warming up. Okay. I’ll do it.
To me, teahouse implies formality; so, I’m dressing up. Wearing a sports coat.
My first impression of Greystone Teahouse on East Magnolia in Auburn rings out like phone pings from an old friend. Its historic marker yields interesting details. For example, Greystone’s “gray stone” is allegedly moisture proof via the first owner’s “secret formula.” Dating to 1894, it was one of the first homes in Auburn to have an indoor bath and electricity. I appreciate this trivia, because I once lived in a house without one of these conveniences. (And our nearest neighbor had neither.)
I’m anxious to look inside.
I stroll through the mansion, snapping photos, being careful not to disturb the pretty Auburn co-eds who are, like, everywhere—and trying to study. Close to the kitchen, I discover pastries, a rainforest of them. I’ve struck gold.
The young lady in the pastries room takes my conservative order: a chicken salad sandwich and some iced tea. I continue to fixate on the pastries.
She asks for payment.
“May I open a tab? I’ll probably want a pastry or two for dessert,” I say.
She smiles. “Let’s pay for the tea and sandwich, sir. If you want a pastry afterwards, you may pay for it separately.”
It? Oh, no. I’m thinking a box of ‘em for the road.
I take a seat at a round table close to the pastries. My seat has a view of the adjacent living room where one male and two female students are lounging on leather furniture, conversing. I feel their eyes on my back. They lower their voices when I gaze at them over the shoulder of my sports coat. My gray hair appears to have a calming effect on their demeanor.
I’d like to question them about Greystone Teahouse. But I’m feeling a bit like a duck out of water. I’m thinking … a photo of these guys would be perfect for this story. So, this time, without looking at them, as if they’re three blind mice, I raise my phone over my shoulder and snap their picture. The phone’s camera flashes like a bolt of lightning, presenting an explosive glow onto the walls and upon their youthful faces. Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. I hear muffled, if not angry, remarks behind me.
A pregnant minute passes.
“Sir!”
I turn and face a stout young man with serious business eyes sizing me up.
“Yes?” I reply.
“Did you just take our picture?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And, why did you take our picture?”
The young ladies sit frozen, observing, as their knight in shining armor confronts the gray-haired, sports-coated, out-of-his-comfort-zone geezer-dragon.
Yes! Chivalry! In a teahouse! But I’m in serious trouble. I must diffuse the situation before Sir Galahad strikes.
I smile, stand, and extend my card. “I’m a travel writer here to write about Greystone.”
He relaxes. Puts away his sword. The girls begin to breathe again. I step into the living room and introduce myself, saying, “What I really wanted was an interview. But I’m so bashful, I figured I’d just settle for a photo.
And, no, I’m not a pervert (member of Congress).”
We all laugh. Good. I’ve achieved instant rapport.
I get an interview and a better photo. Music is playing overhead and the ladies are talking faster than I can think. I miss most of what they’re saying. Sir Galahad likes the chai. Got that. But it’s obvious. They love Greystone Teahouse and the quality of its teas and its menu.
I return to my table and enjoy my chicken salad sandwich. It’s the best ever! Owner Toni Holt joins me, and I ask how Greystone Teahouse got started.
“I’ve been in the coffee business for about fifteen years now. We own Ross House Coffee around the corner. I heard Greystone was available. Called the owner and said, ‘hey, let’s put a teahouse in there.’ And she said, ‘yeah, that’s a great idea.’ Our mission with both the coffee shop and the teahouse here is we kind of want to run it as a ministry in a way. We have the worship music playing. We encourage Bible studies to come in. I have a Bible verse on the wall over there. And that’s how it started.”
The teahouse has since become a ministry depot. Requests have poured in for Bible studies and worship nights. Churches are getting involved. Reservations are necessary for big events as certain large groups meet regularly. “There’s a college ministry meeting here tonight,” Toni explains. She tells me that “like in the rest of the United States” interest in Jesus and the Bible has blossomed. “That’s what I love about Auburn. The kids.
They really do want to go to church. They’re so involved in youth groups, college ministry, and they help with all the churches. It’s just such a great environment. Auburn Community Church is like five thousand members now—almost all college students. There’s so much opportunity here. And it’s such a beautiful house. We need to share it with the community. I’m just grateful for the Auburn community and the Christian community.”
I depart Greystone Teahouse, thrilled, and encouraged to discover that chivalry among our young men is alive and well. And maybe, just maybe, our young people are ushering in another great spiritual awakening in America. Could Greystone be the next Red River Meeting House? I hope so!
(See: BOOM! Red River Meeting House, October 2022 at www.jeffbarganier.com.)
Jeff Barganier is a novelist, travel writer and speaker. He travels far and wide upon the slightest excuse for something interesting to write about. His novels include Lawson’s Bluff (2021); The Slash Brokers (1998). He also manages Cindy Barganier Interiors LLC at The Waters in Pike Road, Alabama. Contact Jeff at Jeffbarganier@knology.net. You may print out his features at www.jeffbarganier.com and take them with you when you travel!