Aside from the faint hum of fluorescent lights, the only sounds were the clicks of clocks, the scrape of chair legs and the rustle of someone adjusting a bishop. Eighteen players, adults and children alike, sat in rows in Durham County Main Library, the air taut with concentration.
The Durham Chess Club, barely two months old, was hosting its first official tournament, the Knights of November rapid chess tournament. Five rounds, 15 minutes per player, with an extra 10 seconds awarded after every move. The organizer, Logan Retamoza, 27, opened the club in September after moving to Durham from California, where he worked for the U.S. Chess Academy in Santa Barbara.
As the competition opened on Sunday, he stood at the front of the room, explaining the rules like a teacher speaking to an attentive class: how to claim a draw, when to raise your hand, what to do if an illegal move slipped by. “If we can’t agree,” he said, “it’s a draw.”
When the instructions ended, there was a moment of pure hush. Then came a flurry of handshakes and the staccato rhythm of buttons being pressed on the tops of chess clocks, the timers specific to the game. Pawns crept forward, claiming squares one careful step at a time. A few traded places and were swept from the board. Knights leapt into the center, rooks slid along cleared paths, queens waited for the right moment to break loose. Players leaned in, eyes flicking between pieces and clocks, fingers hovering just above the board. Now and then, someone whispered “check,” and a captured piece clattered into a pile at the edge of the board.
The room settled into quiet intensity until a voice from the library loudspeaker broke through: “A reminder to all patrons that eating is not allowed.” (No one was eating.) A surprised ripple of laughter passed through the room, then everyone went back to strategizing.
At the edge of the room sat Coby Austin, 44, watching her 10-year-old daughter Petra and 12-year-old son Adrian in their first-ever tournament. They learned the game years ago, playing in coffee shops or waiting rooms, but this was the first time they were playing under pressure. “The thing I love about chess is that it’s so international,” Austin said. “At their school, there are over 60 languages spoken, and you don’t need to know English to play.”
Retamoza moved between tables, his black notebook tucked under one arm, stopping to answer questions or study a position. To him, chess is more than competition. “It’s a place of connection and community,” he said. “It’s really just a bunch of plastic pieces, but it brings people together.”
He wants to take that connection further — into Durham’s public schools, especially Title I campuses. Together with the Durham Chess Club, the Austin family helped start Holt Elementary’s first chess club this fall, where more than 50 students signed up to play. A few chess sets were donated by the U.S. Chess Trust, a nonprofit that supports chess education across the country, but they’re still collecting boards, pieces and donations to meet demand.
“It’s amazing how quickly the interest came,” Coby Austin said. “It really shows how this game crosses language, age and background.”
For Retamoza, chess is one of the few spaces where kids and adults meet as equals and a discipline where “kids can ascend to the level of a professional.”
“There are no 12-year-olds in Major League Baseball,” he said, smiling. “But there are 12-year-olds in the World Blitz Tournament.”
At another table, Autumn Smith, 27, sat with her eyes fixed on the board. She started playing in 2023 and played more than 200 quick 10-minute games that year.
She wasn’t expecting to play in Sunday’s tournament. “I was bored,” she said later, laughing. “Logan asked me, like, five times to join because he needed more players. I figured I’d lose every game. I’ve won one so far.”
Between rounds, players leaned against the curved hallway walls outside the room, their voices low as they dissected endgames and debated strategies from the latest match. The little ones darted toward the bookshelves as two older players shook hands after a match. One chuckled and said, “I played a lot in high school, but I haven’t played for 40 years. Thanks for the good game.”
When the next round began, the hush settled over the room again, a collective breath held. Players leaned forward, plastic pieces clacking softly across the boards. The clocks ticked on, steady and impartial, marking the rhythm of thought.
From the back of the room, Retamoza watched in silence, his hands tucked in his pockets as the game continued. To him, the beauty of chess isn’t in the winning but in the learning. “There’s such a fast turnaround between victory and defeat,” he said quietly. “It teaches kids how to win and lose gracefully.”
The clocks kept ticking, and no one looked up.
Pictured above: Sage Uskowi captured the youth title at Sunday’s match. Photo by Reece MacKinney — The 9th Street Journal
