Timberwoods has been providing food and memories for more than 60 years

The only constant in life, we are constantly reminded, is change.

Yet I, like many, cling to things that seem not to change.

I relish watching reruns of “The Andy Griffith Show.” Mayberry never changes.

At the Valdese Rec fitness room, while I’m on the rowing machine or trying to add more weight on the leg press, I groove with Bob Seger, the Eagles, Bruce Springsteen, Elton John, James Taylor, and Neil Diamond.

Those boys never change.

And, when I want country-style steak and mashed potatoes, or some fried flounder with french fries and slaw, I head to a place where I’ve been eating country cooking since I was 7 years old — Timberwoods Family Restaurant.

Now I know the restaurant has only been Timberwoods for the past 35 years or so. In fact, I’m as likely to call the place “The Rainbow” as I am Timberwoods.

But the point is that the restaurant, located where Bethel Road crosses Interstate 40, roughly four and a half miles from my home in Drexel, fed me when I was a child, fed me when I was both a young man and a middle-aged man, and continues to feed me as I creep ever further into the joys of old age.

That’s a lot of food — all of it good.

When I was but a wee lad, eating at the Rainbow after Sunday church at Drexel First Baptist, I was partial to the cheeseburgers.

Chapel Hill had nothing like the Rainbow, and I loved to grab meals there on the occasional weekend at home or during the summers.

As a young father and newspaper editor, I often took my daughters to the Rainbow.

At 18 months, Baby Caroline, perhaps frustrated by service she perceived as too slow on a busy Friday evening, took off a shoe and flung it across the crowded dining room.

They let us stay and eat anyway.

The first coherent words Baby Jennifer ever spoke were, “County style steak, fried okra, and a roll,” to a stupified waitress.

The Rainbow proved the perfect luncheon spot for me and my staff at The News Herald — low prices and bountiful food.

We liked to settle at one of the large tables on the west side of the dining room — we called it the summit table — and banter with a rather burly waitress who was quite capable of taking out the whole crowd with one swing.

Luckily, she never had to.

By the time Phil Scarboro acquired the restaurant in 2000, by then renamed as Timberwoods, I was advancing into middle age, but my palate remained happy with a fine slab of country ham, surrounded by cole slaw and pinto beans.

And for breakfast, it’s just about impossible to beat Brother Bryan’s Sampler, named after Morganton’s Bryan Black.

Here’s what you get: Three eggs cooked to order, a sampler of bacon, sausage and country ham. Served with hashbrowns, choice of grits or gravy, and choice of biscuit or toast.

One of the proudest moments of my life came when I ordered Brother Bryan’s Sampler and added, “Throw me a big ol’ piece of livermush on top of all that so I can say I really ate breakfast today.”

My mother’s last Thanksgiving on this Earth was Thursday, Nov. 24, 2005, and we gathered for our family meal at Timberwoods. We had no way of knowing that she would not be with us when the next Thanksgiving came, but on that day, she could not have been happier — eating food she loved, surrounded by her boys, their wives, and her grandchildren.

All of those memories and dozens of others came flooding back last week when I sat down with Phil to talk about the joys and challenges of owning one of, if not the oldest, continuously serving restaurant in Burke County.

Andy and Barney have not patrolled the streets of Mayberry nor eaten at the diner nor gone to Myer’s Lake in nearly 60 years.

Bullet Bob and Sweet Baby James and Neil Diamond have all grown old.

But Timberwoods rolls on.

And I hope to keep rolling with it.