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The News & Record has two main resources for old photos: A closet full of negatives and filing cabinets that hold mostly black-and-white prints. They are a gold mine for the historical, comical and just plain unusual moments in Greensboro’s history.

Each weekday in August, I’ll share a snap from the vault. There’s no rhyme or reason to the selections — they’re just photos that caught my eye. If you know more about what’s pictured, please share the details in the comments or e-mail me at michael.grossman@news-record.com.

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A cardboard sign hangs atop the steps outside the closed O.Henry Hotel in June 1975. Those who didn't meet the three criteria listed also weren't allowed inside.

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The News & Record has two main resources for old photos: A closet full of negatives and filing cabinets that hold mostly black-and-white prints. They are a gold mine for the historical, comical and just plain unusual moments in Greensboro’s history.

Each weekday in August, I’ll share a snap from the vault. There’s no rhyme or reason to the selections — they’re just photos that caught my eye. If you know more about what’s pictured, please share the details in the comments or e-mail me at michael.grossman@news-record.com.

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Battery-operated Citi Cars sit outside a Greensboro dealership in June 1975. Designed for driving in the city — vs., say, trips through Death Valley — they sold for $2,800, cruised at 38 mph and ran for 50 miles on a single charge. They look a little like little robot heads, or something you'd put together with Legos. Surprisingly, I haven't seen many on the roads lately, though there are some mentions on the Web. (Photo by Jack Moebes)

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So I'm standing on Edgeworth Street near Blandwood Mansion trying to get more details about a report of a shooting when this guy rolls by.

Turns out he likes his Richard Childress drivers (the 33 is Clint Bowyer and the 29 is Kevin Harvick) as well as Hendrick drivers Mark Martin (5) and Dale Earnhardt Jr. (88). And the driver he hates: Kyle Busch, who pilots the No. 18 Joe Gibbs Toyota on Sundays.

Busch's boorish behavior and tart tongue are legendary. But after Saturday's Nationwide race at Nashville, Busch outdid himself in victory lane. Winners of the race get a hand-painted Gibson guitar (Nashville = Guitar town). Most play air-guitar. Busch smashed his.

The first four shots in this series are of Shrub with the guitar. In the third shot, the artist, posing with Busch and the remains of the guitar, must be dying inside.

Here's the personal kicker to this story: As I get back into my car to come back to the N&R, I flip on the radio, and Jim Rome is talking about ... Kyle Busch.

Under my hoop earrings and beaded bracelets I found the priceless piece of jewelry — a small purple and white flower pin.

It's a Columbine flower.

Expensive, no. Sentimental, yes. It was given to me by Columbine High School students Devon Adams, Sarah Bay, Sergio Gonzales and Samantha Haviland.

I was truly honored to meet these brave teenagers when they traveled in fall of 1999 with Columbine teacher Paula Reed to speak at high schools across Manatee County, Fla., where I was an education reporter writing a series about safety.

We became fast friends as I watched their courage inspire others. Their emotional stories and tearful tributes captured the hearts of thousands, including mine.

They wanted me to have the pin to remember them and those they lost during the shootings in their school April 20, 1999. A promise made is a promise kept — I am wearing that pin today.

So to Devon, Sarah, Sergio, Samantha and Paula — and to their classmates, staff, friends and family — we will not soon forget you and the stories you have shared.

— Annette Ayres, Summerfield