Curio 2025

Sips & Scenery

Vendors of the Valley

Grounded in the Valley, reaching beyond

Meet the Staff

Back (L-R): Jeffery Ware, Zach Mendenhall, Evan Moody, and Jacob Little

Middle (L-R): Kate Bean, Charlotte Davis, Tatum Nyhuis, and Julia Tanner

Front (L-R): Maya Skurski, Elizabeth Taddeo, Meirra McChristian, and BriAnna Thweatt

Letter from Editor

Dear readers,

I’m stoked to introduce the latest edition of Curio Magazine! We’ve really dug deep into the heart of the Shenandoah Valley to bring you stories that celebrate everything that makes this place special. From the important work of the Shenandoah Black Heritage Project to the inspiring sounds of student band Abbi Jean, we’re exploring the heart and soul of our community.

This magazine is truly a labor of love, and it wouldn’t be possible without the extraordinary dedication of our staff. Our photographers, writers, and graphic designers have poured their hearts into this project all semester, and their passion shines through every page. We’re immensely grateful for their talent, hard work, and unwavering commitment to capturing the essence of the Shenandoah Valley.

We are excited to share the 47th edition of Curio with you.

So grab your copy, settle in and get ready to explore the Shenandoah Valley. We hope Curio inspires you to see this place with fresh eyes and appreciate the incredible stories all around us.

Sincerely,

Meirra McChristian

Skiing where you’d least expect it

Skiing where you’d least expect it

Where icy runs, late nights, & local grit shape skiers for life

Written By Maya Skurski

Nick Gladd, a ski instructor and former Massanutten patroller, recently spent two weeks bouncing around eight different ski resorts in Vermont before heading West to round out the season. Gladd is the type of skier who lives and breathes for the ski season. He teaches full time at Snowshoe in West Virginia, and when asked what makes Massanutten different, he didn’t hesitate.

“Massanutten’s home,” he said. “It’s just where I learned how to ski. It’s where my mom is at and it’s where she still skis every winter.”

Gladd grew up in Harrisonburg, just 20 minutes away from the mountain, and regardless how far he roams, his earliest ski memories are tied to Massanutten.

“It was just something I did primarily at night after school, with either my mom or later in life, friends,” Gladd said. “Growing up, I didn’t have any concept about skiing out West or bigger mountains. Just, it was good, it was just fun, and that’s what it should be.”

In the Shenandoah Valley, snow is blown, runs are icey and the season is rarely long, but the ski spirit is real. At Massanutten Ski Resort, skiing doesn’t just exist — it thrives, grows roots, builds culture and breeds

real skiers in a region where that’s anything but common.

It’s not the Instagram-filtered fantasy of huge bowls or bottomless powder days, but rather ice scrapes and the knowledge that skiing does not need to be glamorous in order for it to be memorable or fun. There is something special about East Coast skiers — they have a different type of dedication.

Kameron Tucker, the mountain sports director at Massanutten, is one of those skiers.

“I grew up skiing here,” Tucker said. “It’s nice to have a home base close to home.”

From Orange CountyTucker learned to ski at Massanutten. Now, she oversees everything from lift operations to snowmaking to ski school.

Late icy ski sessions and redcheeked friends shaped Tucker and her career.

In a region not known for skiing, Massanutten has somehow managed to build a deeply loyal community. Locals drive hours to ski here, with out-of-staters who learned at Massanutten as kids returning with their own, and even those who leave the state still find themselves circling back.

“My parents would load us in the

car on Friday evenings after school,” Tucker said. “We’d ski Friday evenings and do that all winter long.”

Massanutten strips skiing down to its core. People stop chasing deep powder or towering verticals and instead, they enjoy the sport for what it is.

It’s not just skiers defying the conditions. Molly Kirkland, a snowboarder on the James Madison University Ski and Snowboard Race Team knows exactly what it means to ride the East.

Originally from Boone, North Carolina, Kirkland said growing up riding in the Southeast shaped her technique.

“We aren’t blessed with the powder days all the time, and so I feel like a lot of us make do with what we’ve got.” Kirkland said. “We do really well because we’re used to skiing in all different conditions.”

Massanutten, at first glance may seem ordinary, but it’s homegrown, deeply loved and defies the expectations of what skiing is supposed to look like. It’s not just a ski resort — It’s where people ski because they truly love it, — not for what it looks like in National Geographic or popularity.

“There are places in this country and in this world that you can live

is a choice, not a given. Just like its skiers.

“Here at Massanutten, we’re not one to use our location as an excuse,” Tucker said. “Give us the temps and we wanna get our mountain 100% open.”

Just this past year, Massanutten installed thousands of feet of new pipe for its snowmaking system. “We want to make sure we’re doing this as sustainably as possible,” Tucker said.

For a resort with a shorter season than most, Massanutten fights to make every day count.

“Out West, it’s gorgeous, it’s big, but they might have, you know, they’re own set of challenges,” Tucker said. “When they don’t have the temps, or they don’t have the natural snowfall, they’re not as equipped to make their own snow.”

Massanutten knows who its community is and doubles down on that community.

“We have a locals cup, which is a fun race league,” Tucker said. “You don’t ever have to have raced, sometimes the first gates people go

through are the race league gates.”

Unfortunately, skiing in the Southeast means navigating a season that can end abruptly — like this most recent one. “We had some unseasonably warm March, so we melted out quick,” Tucker said.

Gladd also acknowledged the region’s limits, claiming the worst part about skiing in the East is the short season. “My plan right now is to go out to Mount Hood and ski all summer.” Gladd said.

He isn’t the only skier bred by Massanutten who can’t stop. This mountain raised skiers that don’t hit the slopes to only chase epic verticals or bottomless powder, but simply skiers tried and true.

While a big misconception is that skiing in the east isn’t fun, Gladd disagrees, feeling that “you can make

Graphics by Elizabeth Taddeo

Photos by Kate Bean

Top: Massanuttens Resort rises from the Shanendoah Valley, offering 1,1000 vertical feet of pure determination.

Middle: Lifts carry generations of skiiers from all of the world looking for East Coast Seasons. Right Verticle: Massanuttens yograded snowmaking and loyal crowds keep chairs spinning and memories in motion.

Recent artworks done by Sally Veach.

Grounded in the Valley, reaching beyond Grounded in the Valley, reaching beyond

Artist finds inspiration in Shenandoah

landscapes

Written by Sarahy Mora Rincon

From a studio in Alexandria, Sally Veach paints Virginia’s landscapes to explore nature’s resilience and the traces of colonial history.

In a cozy studio in Alexandria, Veach creates stories of nature’s quiet persistence and humanity’s complex relationship with the land. Though visually rooted in the sweeping landscapes of Virginia, her work speaks far beyond the Shenandoah Valley.

Born in New Jersey, Veach’s path to painting Virginia’s landscapes was paved with personal history and unexpected turns. After her father died in 1985, her mother returned to her hometown of Woodstock to start Shenandoah Vineyards.

Veach followed soon after, finding herself working at the vineyard between jobs. There, she met her husband and settled into a life connected to the rural scenery, a connection that later shaped her artistic vision.

Veach began drawing as early as fourth grade, inspired by her older sister and affirmed by teachers’ praise, but her journey as an artist has taken many turns. She earned a bachelors of fine arts from Syracuse University at just 19 years old, but stepped away from art for nearly 25 years after moving back to Woodstock and starting a family.

Despite this, the natural beauty surrounding her — mountains, fields and fading barns called her back.

“My career just stopped,” Veach said. “I had already gotten out of doing fine art, and there just wasn’t a commercial art scene in the Valley.”

At first, she focused on plain-air paintings of the Valley — trees, fields and the familiar shapes of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Over time, her work shifted away from capturing scenes as they appeared and toward something more reflective.

“I was painting barns that were falling down, and I realized — they weren’t just falling down, they were being reclaimed by nature,” Veach said. “I’d talk to the owners, and

they’d say they couldn’t afford to fix them. These buildings were once symbols of hard work and survival, now they’re vanishing.”

This led her to start thinking differently about the land around her.

“I began to see the environment not just as a subject, but as a force,” Veach said. “No matter how much we try to control it, nature eventually wins.”

Her more recent work plays with those ideas. She’s been layering in 18th-century Indian textile patterns and referencing 19th-century American landscape paintings.

Her series “Human Nature,” considers the environmental impact of colonialism and the Western world’s exploitative relationship with land — something she reflects on personally.

“My ancestors were some of the first settlers in the Shenandoah Valley,” Veach said. “So part of my work is acknowledging what scholars call non-culpable guilt. It’s complex, but it’s important.”

While her newer pieces may look abstract at first glance, they are still grounded in the Valley. You can see traces of the mountain skyline, but they’re often fractured or faded, paired with bold lines or symbols that point to a deeper message. It’s no longer just about what’s beautiful, it’s about what’s being lost.

Traces of the mountain skyline, often fractured or faded, paired with bold lines or symbols point to a deeper message as for Veach. It’s no longer just about what’s beautiful, but what is being lost and what is underneath.

Still, for Veach, the Shenandoah Valley is home.

“It’s the most beautiful part of the country, in my opinion,” Veach said. “But when you live here every day, you stop seeing it. I hope my art reminds people to notice again and to really look, and to think about what that view means.”

Top

Veach’s studio is filled with works in progress and reference materials inspired by the Shenandoah Valley

Bottom

One of Sally

finished landscapes on display, capturing the tension between nature’s beauty and human impact.

Far Left: Artist Sally Veach adds layered brushstrokes to a large-scale landscape in her Alexandria studio.

photo:

Photo:

Veach’s

Paddles up! Paddles up!

How pickleball is fostering new communities in the Valley

Graphics by Julia Tanner

Written by Jeffrey Ware

Every weekday morning from 9 a.m. to noon, the sound of hollow plastic balls smacking paddles echoes throughout the Simms Center in Harrisonburg. Its three indoor courts buzz with energy as people of all ages and careers gather together, for a sport that has grown into a popular pastime.

Pickleball is a funky and fast-growing sport that’s taking the Valley by storm. Retired law enforcement officer Frank Sottaceti is among the regulars who show up to play pickleball nearly every day. Originally from Philadelphia, Frank moved to the Shenandoah Valley years ago.

Last winter, he discovered not just a new hobby in pickleball, but also a meaningful way to connect with those around him.

“I’d always driven past the courts at Morrison Park and was curious,” Sottaceti said. “Then someone told me, ‘You should check out the Simms Center, there’s open play every morning.’ I showed up, and that was it.”

Pickleball’s explosion in popularity over the last few years is no coincidence. When the COVID-19 pandemic left gyms closed, it emerged as an accessible, socially-distanced alternative.

“It was the perfect pandemic sport,” Sottaceti explained. “You could play doubles, but still stay apart, and it’s outdoors or indoors, so there’s flexibility.”

The sport combines different elements from tennis, badminton and ping-pong and is played on a smaller court with lower netting, making it less physically demanding than tennis, but still enough of a workout to get the heart rate up. And the sport is incredibly inclusive.

“You’ll see someone with a magnetic knee brace sharing the court with a JMU sophomore,” Sottaceti said. “It’s one of the only sports I’ve seen where that kind of range of ability and age all play together and have fun.”

With a starter paddle and ball set costing under $30, many

community centers also provide paddles and balls for public use.

“If you’re not a Parks and Rec member, it’s three bucks to play,” Sottaceti said. “You don’t need lessons, you don’t need fancy gear. You just show up.”

The simplicity and affordability make the sport appealing to all walks of life, including families, college students and retirees. Even beginners are welcomed onto the court, making it easy to jump in and start playing, no matter your age or experience level.

“You don’t have to be an athlete,” Sottaceti said. “You’ll see people here who’ve never picked up a paddle before, and within a few games, they’re hooked. It’s not about power; it’s about strategy, community, and having fun.”

What sets Harrisonburg’s pickleball scene apart is the community that has grown around it.

“There are no tryouts, there are no teams, there’s just a rack where you put your paddle, and when it’s

your turn, you play,” Sottaceti said. “Nobody owns the court. When a game’s done, all four players rotate out so that others can play, that’s the rule.”

Players of all skill levels mingle freely, fostering a culture of mutual respect.

“You don’t get better by beating someone who’s 81,” Sottaceti said. “You get better by playing with people at your level or above, but no one here is trying to dominate the court all day. Everyone gets a turn.”

The inclusiveness brought on by the sport extends beyond the courts. Over the holidays, Sottaceti and other regulars gathered together for a potluck.

“You’ve got city folks and country folks playing together, you’ve got students from JMU and retirees who’ve lived here forever,” Sottaceti said. “You might show up and find someone visiting from Massachusetts who just looked up courts on an app, and they’re welcomed immediately.”

Just a few miles from the Simms Center, the paddles pop and echo throughout the tennis courts at James Madison University’s University Park (UPARK). At JMU, pickleball’s popularity has quickly become a hit amongs students.

One of the sport’s most passionate local ambassadors is Ryan Morneau, a junior finance major from East Longmeadow, Massachusetts. As president of JMU’s Club Pickleball, Morneau has watched firsthand how the club has grown from a casual gathering to one of the most popular organizations on campus.

“When I first got here in 2022, it was just starting to take off,” Morneau said. “Now, we’ve got over 500 students in the social side of our club, and 32 competitive players. It’s bigger than we ever imagined.”

JMU Club Pickleball has two tiers: a competitive team that travels to regional and national tournaments, and a casual or social team that just plays for fun. The social team has no tryouts and meets once a week, allowing anyone to participate, regardless of skill level.

For many students, especially those out-of-state like Morneau, it’s been a surprising entry point into campus life.

“It was one of the first things I found here, and it completely changed my college experience,” Morneau said. “I met my best friends through this club, I found roommates, it made JMU feel like home.”

Meanwhile, the competitive team hosts tryouts at the beginning of each semester and carries out two-hour practices multiple times a week on converted tennis courts. Although the colder months from about November to March limit their time on outdoor courts, they still find ways to prepare year-round through drills, strategy sessions, and friendly competition.

Don’t let the casual vibe fool you– the JMU competitive team can hold its own against the best. Morneau himself is currently the top-rated collegiate pickleball player in the nation, while the team ranks within the top 20.

JMU competes under the Dynamic Universal Pickleball Rating system, a kind of NCAA equivalent for pickleball. Tournaments are formatted around four-player teams that include two men and two women.

They compete in doubles matches, unless the score is tied 2-2, in which a singles tiebreaker known as the “dreambreaker” decides the outcome.

“It makes things really exciting,” Morneau said. “There’s a team element people really love, it’s not just about individual success.”

In fall 2023, the club traveled to Dallas, Texas, to compete in the National Collegiate Pickleball Championships.

“Over 70% of our club members chose to spend over $300 out of pocket to fly down to Dallas and represent JMU. That tells you what this sport means to people here.”

Morneau is quick to emphasize that the heart of JMU Pickleball isn’t just winning tournaments; it’s creating a supportive, inclusive culture that anyone can be part of. From off-court socials to mentorship opportunities for new players, the club has become more than just a team.

“People can get whatever they want out of it,” Morneau said. “Whether you’re trying to go pro or just blow off some steam with friends, there’s a place for you here.”

The culture they have built has not gone unnoticed. Morneau helped secure sponsorships for the team, making JMU the first collegiate pickleball club in the country to land multiple brand deals, with these partnerships providing thousands of dollars in equipment and funding, giving

students access to top-tier paddles at a fraction of the retail cost.

“Our top eight players get paddles for free,” Morneau explained. “For everyone else, we offer $250 paddles for just $65. It really levels the playing field.”

Like Frank at the Simms Center, Morneau sees pickleball as something deeper than a game; a gateway to connection, belonging, and personal growth.

“I think it teaches people how to push themselves outside of their comfort zone,” Morneau said. “Whether it’s stepping onto the court for the first time or pitching the club to a sponsor, it gives you a chance to grow.”

Earlier this year, Morneau and a sophomore club member pitched JMU Pickleball as a startup in the College of Business’ Fallon Challenge, a competition for student entrepreneurs. It was not just about funding, but also learning.

“I want our members to walk away from this club with more than just a strong backhand,” Morneau said. “I want them to walk away with confidence, experience, and a network.”

The rise of pickleball in Harrisonburg isn’t just about a sport. It’s about reclaiming something that feels increasingly rare in our digital world–connection.

“You don’t just come, play, and leave,” Sottaceti said. “You stick around, you talk, you help each other out. I drove a guy home the other day because his car was in the shop, that kind of thing happens all the time here.”

For anyone on the fence about picking up a paddle, Sottaceti’s advice is simple–just show up.

“You don’t need to buy anything right away, there’s always someone willing to lend you a paddle.” Sottaceti said. “The moment you walk in, you’re part of the community. It’s not a clique, it’s not a team, it’s just people who love to play.”

Top Right: Ray

and

handing out paddle taps after a match at the Simms Center.

Bottom left: Dennis Nelson anticipating his opponent’s next shot.

Bottom middle: Dennis Nelson (white shirt) watches his teammate, Rick Malament (blue shirt), as he calculates his serve timing.

Bottom right: Rick Malament making eye contact with his opponent before starting his serve.

Photos by Meirra McChristian & Jeffrey Ware

Clayton (left), Dave Hurst (middle)

Mike Fazio (right)

Campus-crafted beats Abbi Jean Abbi Jean

Far Leftt: Abbi Jean singing at Sage Bird Ciderworks in downtown Harrisonburg.

Top Right: Abbi has been playing guitar for seven years.

Middle: Abbi Jean opens for David Austin at Clementine Cafe in Downtown Harrisonburg.

Bottom Right: Steven Londoño plays the guitar for Abbi Jean’s band.

Written by Evan Moody

Creating a student band can be difficult, as working with others to form a creative rhythm, finding a manageable schedule and completing school work on top of performing can be near impossible.

Yet that’s what four JMU students have been able to do.

The student run band, Abbi Jean, has been performing at multiple venues across the Valley and playing at local venues such as Clementine, Golden Pony, Sagebird, Taylor Down Under and more.

“My favorite part about performing in the Valley is the people,” lead singer Abbi Brinson said. “Everyone wants to see each other succeed and do well, which makes the environment so uplifting.”

The band has four members — sophomore Abbi Brinson as lead singer, junior Xavier Fundalewicz on bass, senior Samuel McCasland on drums and senior Steven Londono on guitar.

Brinson chose members from different facets of her life to bring together the band. After knowing McCasland from high school, she reached out to him over Instagram in Sept. 2023 expressing interest in bringing him on board and he connected her with Fundalewicz.

Brinson found Londono at an open mic night during her first week of freshman year and connected with him over Instagram as well. He assisted Brinson by playing on a few tracks of her album and, ever since their first collaborations, Brinson knew of Londono’s artistic value.

“It was so tasteful and

he added so much texture,” Brinson said. “Since then I knew he was an asset, and I am so grateful to have him a part of this.”

Abbi Jean joins the ranks of other student bands on campus, such as 5th Grade Santa, The Billiards Dozen, Valley Deplama and more. The band’s first gig was in February, and they plan to continue sharing their love of music throughout the valley.

Although the band is newly formed, they have already faced a few obstacles — such as scheduling times to practice and trying to build a dedicated fanbase. Along with this, the band is still trying to find their sound.

“I think one of the biggest challenges we face is that we all come from different backgrounds in terms of genre,” McCasland said. “It results in a lot of difficulties writing, however it comes together for a unique sound.”

Each member brings their own inspirations for the craft to the group. McCasland and Brinson both said alternative artists Lizzy McAlpine and Phoebe Bridgers affected their sound, as did Clairo and Big Thief.

In addition to bigger-name acts, local bands have also influenced Abbi Jean’s sound. These include Dogwood Tales, Terry Fang, Babe Lewis, Nabeel and Anticline, which Londono also plays in.

The members state there have been many memorable moments in how the Valley shapes their music. Fundalewicz also said that the band’s overall style and “vibe” fits the surrounding area well because of the local scenery and culture.

This has also taken shape in the band’s collaboration with Sill and Glade Cabin, a recording studio just outside of Harrisonburg in Mount Solon. Here, the members collaborate with CJ Metz, owner of the cabin and longtime influencer upon local bands.

Brinson is a frequent collaborator with Metz and recorded at Sill and Glade in October. While not set in stone, members say an album could be on the way.

Since forming in the Valley, the members have also expressed their appreciation to work in the area, especially when friends from school come out to support them at performances.

“Every musician’s talent has a space here in Harrisonburg, and with that, the audience has a place to express, move and dance,” Brinson said. “I love it.”

As for the future of Abbi Jean, it’s difficult to say what it will look like. All members are full-time students and three apart from Brinson will be graduating. Still, members look to reunite in the fall to perform at a local DIY space, which can look like an apartment or house or other non commercial area that routinely hosts live music.

Despite all of the uncertainty, members expressed the joy of being a part of a student band and the balance it provides to their busy university lives.

“Playing music is such a privilege,” Brinson said. “It often takes the stress away.”

Photos by Elizabeth Taddeo & Meirra McChristian

Behind the buzz Behind the buzz

Devotion to traditional keeping

Left: Honeybees swarm the opening opening of their nuc.

Written &

Photos by

On a warm Spring day, anytime it’s 45 degrees and above, Elkton farmer Rudy Dean is on his over 14-acre property tending to his lively crew. Kai and Lola, his two energetic mutts, follow him around as he approaches the gate between the farm and his house.

He raises chickens, cows and horses, but the farm’s real buzz is the 30 honey bee hives he greets everyday. For over 15 years, Dean has cultivated an active and sustainable ecosystem for where honey bees thrive.

It started with a Christmas present from his wife, an introduction to beekeeping book, and grew into an upkeep of 95 bee hives. Having taken his bee journey as far as he can go, Dean is working on downsizing his hives and continuing to mentor novice beekeepers, as he soon wants to retire.

Dean’s beekeeping journey began with a series of learning curves.

“I ordered two packages of bees through the mail, which I don’t recommend people do, they always die,” Dean said. His poor experience with bees-by-mail led him to the Shenandoah Beekeeping Club, a local organization where keepers like Dean can connect, and learn from one another.

The organization also specializes in removing swarms from unwanted areas such as grocery stores, homes and public areas. In doing so, Dean prevents the bees’ extermination and is known to rehome them personally.

“[These] are what we would call survivor bees, and that’s the kind of bees I raise,” Dean said “I don’t get commercial queens or any genetics from commercial bees.”

Kate Bean

With the Beekeeping Club, Dean relocates between five to 20 swarms a year. He raises them from home, depending on the localization status of the bees.

While it’s hard to nail down a swarm’s exact origins, Dean uses clues based on their landing pad. In February, Dean removed a swarm from the side mirror of someone’s car, as the odd time of year and temporary living quarters made the bee’s genetic makeup a mystery.

He will often sell or release mystery bees.

Another time, Dean was called to remove a swarm from an elderly man’s apple tree. Previously the swarm had been living in the man’s Mulberry tree for over at least 30 years,

The kind of bees Dean wants are not the type of swarms like the one he once removed from the side of a car mirror in the middle of February, he said.` Instead, he looks for ones like that of an elderly man’s apple tree, where the swarm lived for 30 years.” Then move into quote

“Those are the genetics I just die for,” Dean said. “The genetics that survive with no help from man, they’ve taken on every pest, everything Mother Nature can throw at them and they’re still there.”

Along with a preference for local swarms, Dean uses a more organic approach.

“I don’t use any chemicals,” Dean said. “I use no medications or antibiotics or anything like that, and it’s rare that I even feed my bees.”

Many beekeepers use chemicals to treat Varroa Mites, while Dean does not.

“If you have bees you’re gonna have Varroa Mites, you can’t get around it even if you use the medicine,” Dean said. “There are natural ways, they’re just a little more difficult. I don’t want

to be using those chemicals and find out years from now that residue can remain longer than we thought it could and maybe it’s poisonous.

Dean feels it is right to “let the bees do their work”, he said, as this hands off approach helps the genetics naturally strengthen and wean off the weaker ones. In the winter, the average number of bees that survive in Virginia is 55-60%, but Dean manages to keep an impressive 95% of his bees alive by the end of each winter.

A look into one of Dean’s “nucs,” a wooden box with frames you pull out, reveals layers of golden wax, the sweet honey combs, and fresh honey bee eggs. To encourage the bees to source nectar, Dean uses a small metal smoker, acting as a signal for the bees to fill their “honey gut” with nectar, which holds up to 40% of their weight, Dean said. “In the forest, smoke means forest fire…they get really alamared when there’s smoke,” he said.

Wearing the net and propergear while sitting with the swarm and feeling their buzz around you is truly a special experience. Taking a moment to sit with the bees and watch their dynamic can be a touching experience to nature.

The way bees buzz past each other like a busy interstate, or in creating their unique social structures, they are like people. The hive operates as a monarchy with the queen, and a patriarchy, as the females are more valuable worker bees.

“Sometimes they’ll reject the queen; if she smells different or looks different,” Dean says after dotting one of the new “queens-onthe-block” with a non-toxic paint on her outer shell. It’s important for him to keep track of his bees, studying genetics and social

dynamics, as he uses regular model-paint changing the color every year — this year is green.

As a traditional, noncommercial beekeeper, Dean chooses to leave his bees most of their honey for the year.

“[They] tend to take almost all the honey they can get through the summer…then feed sugar syrup back to their bees,” Dean said. “Sugar syrup doesn’t give them all of the things that Mother Nature lets them get from flowers.”

The honey that Dean collects is taken in a very natural process: No pasteurization or filtering, just a stainless-steel mesh “bee screen” blocking out wax and keeping the pollen and probiotic elements. Dean does not sell his honey but is known to give it.

His wife, Susan, will send out an email to colleagues and friends, while Dean himself might post on Facebook, but once the honey is gone — it’s gone. But knowing the desire for good oldfashioned local honey, he always sets a couple extra aside for those who need a fill in the winter.

“I don’t sell at the farmers market, but I’m kinda someone you’ll run into at the farmers market,” Dean said. “I’ll tell people in June or July, hey get it now this is it, get any extra if you need it.”

Dean makes more profit selling acual bees than he does the honey. His goal is not only to downsize his hives, but to also encourage more beekeepers in the Valley, as he mentors about a dozen local beekeepers Dean teaches them how? to install a “nuc” with a handson approach, and how to traditionally care for the bees with non-toxic approaches. “They’ll get their bees from me,” he said, “and their survival rate is really high which is unusual for new beekeepers, they usually lose their bees the first couple of years.”

For Dean, it’s not the profit or control, but the beauty of watching and admiring honey makers.

“I’m a bystander who watches over the bees; I live with the bees,” Dean said. “It’s not up to me to tell them…They’ve been doing this for eons, the bees know what to do, they’re amazing creatures.”

“I’m a bystander who watches over the bees; I live with the bees,” Dean said. “It’s not up to me to tell them…They’ve been doing this for eons, the bees know what to do, they’re amazing creatures.”

Dean once followed one of his swarms “down the field, across the highway” about a mile and a half, he said, just to find them camping out in an old tree. Even his brother who is allergic to bees has taken on raising his own, who like Dean will “just sit there and watch for hours,” he said.

Dean affectionately calls the bees his “girls” keeping a dynamic of a devoted friendship between species. Dean has built a safe space for local honey-bees to evolve and thrive, and in return he values their coexistence over honey.

Although his colonies are dwindling down, his passion for agriculture and wildlife will

Right: Rudy Dean holds up a slot full on honeybees and wax from one of his many nucs.

Left: Good Day Café is a brewing community. It’s not just a caffeine fix but a daily does of connection.

Top Right: Shop owner Amy Birdsong always orders a classic latte every time she comes to the café.

Bottom Right: Inside of the shop there are board games, card games, and books out for customers to enjoy.

Every town needs good coffee Elkton’s Good Day Café brings coffee & connection Every town needs good coffee

Written & Photos by Meirra McChristian

In the heart of Elkton, Good Day Café has created a vibrant gathering place for locals and visitors. Located at 311 W. Spotswood Trail, the café provides a warm and inviting atmosphere that fosters community connection.

James Madison University music education lecturer Amy Birdsong is the café’s owner.

Birdsong decided to open a coffee shop to provide a space that served more than just drip coffee.

“I think every town deserves a good coffee shop,” Birdsong said. “A coffee shop is beyond just a latte but it’s a space that the community needs.”

The shop, which opened in October 2024, gets its beans from Broad Porch Porch Café in Harrisonburg. “Every good town needs a good drinking place, meaning like a not, like a bar, a community space for appropriate day drinking,” Birdsong said. “And that is something this town was lacking. So we are providing good coffee for people who just stop in.”

Birdsong comes from a family of individuals who have owned their own businesses. Her grandfather owned a tobacco farm, her father owned a car dealership, her husband owns a solarpower company and now she owns a coffee shop.

“It’s just been really rewarding because it’s like watching something kind of grow up,” Birdsong said. “Like ‘Hey, I helped make that. That kid turned out pretty good.’”

When going into business Birdsong expressed the importance of the right staff by her side. Eshter BennettMichael is the manager for the café and has been working there since the shop opened.

“Working at the coffee shop has taught me fundamental time management skills and also opened my eyes up to all the tiny details that go into building a business, managing it and keeping it upright,” BennettMichael said.

Bennet-Michael is excited to keep seeing the shop develop as Elkton grows. She has lived in Elkton all her life and in the future she aspires to own her own business within Elkton.

“I foresee it becoming a place where people take the time away from their phones and enjoy more personable connections here because at the coffee shop, we have books and board games and puzzles and coloring,” Bennet-Michael said. “It’s a place where you come to disengage from the world.”

Bennet-Michael works closely with each staff member of Good Day Café. Barista Summer Khaswan is a current James Madison undergrad with a major in history education.

“I’ve been working at Elkton since October,” Khaswan said “I’ve actually just learned to love this little part of town and I’ve actually applied to teaching just around Elkton, just because I love the community that I have learned to just be a part of every day.”

Khaswan has been drinking coffee since she was 12 and now enjoys having a honey latte from time to time. She appreciates talking to the people of Elkton while getting to serve them a cup of coffee.

“I think that’s it, you know Good Day Café is one of the best things that’s happened to me during my college experience,” Khaswan said.

Khaswan said there are challenges with being a barista, but she has learned how to persevere through it.

“I’m behind the bar making the drink, but I’m also talking and you know multitasking, [which] for me at first was kind of hard, but I’ve learned that the people in Elton really just want to have a conversation, so I kind of had to learn to go with that,” Khaswan said.

Courtesty of Melinda Genda of Happy Finch

Photography

Natural healing in the Shenandoah Valley

Left: Jen Tullo is a local herbalist who owns the Harrisonburg-based business The Blackberry Herbarium.

Embracing Nature’s Remedies Embracing Nature’s Remedies

Written by BriAnna Thweatt

With the breeze blowing and wind chimes jingling in the background, pink and white petals peek from behind Trisha Leweke’s shed. These petals form a hundred blossoms and buds soon to bloom on thousands of branches that make up one magnificent magnolia tree.

As the owner of Mother Bear Medicinals, Leweke centers her practice on herbalism, artistry and massage therapy. Her shed remains a haven outside of her home for guests to breathe, share a cup of tea or have a massage, and covers at least half of her backyard.

A haven outside of her home for guests to breathe, share a cup of tea or have a massage covering at least half of her backyard.

“The oldest blooming flower,” as Leweke described it, was planted long before she and her husband Bob moved into their house. It now stands as a staple in her garden for everyone to see and enjoy.

Despite the vulnerability paired with opening oneself to the Earth or to touch, Leweke has successfully given her clients relief, whether it’s through herbal teas or a simple belly rub. Through universal healing methods, Leweke finds that “everyone is seeking healing,” one way or another.

“The comfort of a massage and the smell of a flower or a cup of tea—that’s not often offered by Western medicine,” Leweke explained. “How do we find a way to strengthen the body and feel whole again?”

That remains the key concept in natural healing: connectedness. Natural healing, or Eastern

medicine, possesses a simple core and involves using everyday exercises and herbs to treat the body. This practice takes a holistic approach, creating peace and balance through methods like yoga, herbal teas or walks in the park.

In contrast, Western medicine is the familiar form of healthcare, which focuses on diagnosing and curing diseases through surgery or medication.

Regardless, natural healing is more than just a mere trend for Leweke—or even throughout the Shenandoah Valley. In truth, a community of natural lifestyle practitioners continues to grow right here, and its current members have already felt this “awakening,” she said.

“I have a lot of yang, Trisha has a lot of yin,” said Jen Tullo, a friend of Trisha’s and fellow herbalist and natural lifestyle enthusiast. When Jen arrived in Harrisonburg nearly ten years ago, she was surprised to discover how many “hidden gem” spiritual healers were already established in the area, she said

Tullo connected her love of yoga to a desire for self-empowered wellness, ultimately leading her to a “lifetime commitment to natural healing,” she said. She’s compared her journey to an “opening door,” as once it’s opened, it’s not necessarily something you can just close when you’ve had enough.

While co-creating CyanWood Natural Lifestyle Center, the business possessed the vision to unite natural practitioners in the Valley under one roof— and it accomplished just that.

“I was surprised to find these deep spiritual healers with very beautiful practices,” Tullo said. “I was just amazed that there were so many of us.”

Since opening CyanWood, various other wellness and natural lifestyle practitioners have settled into the space, creating more cohesion and unity in the community. CyanWood has welcomed a range of natural healing techniques and medicine, from classical Chinese medicine to counseling and meditation.

Tullo also began her own herbal medicinal business outside of the space, while many other businesses have been welcomed in. Working from her shed, she runs The Blackberry Herbium, established on movement and bioregional food and herbs.

Like Leweke, Tullo has created herbal teas, tinctures and salves for her clients. These serve as natural remedies for ailments such as the common cold or heartache.

“Think about antibiotics,” said Trisha, as she compared the uses of Western medicine to natural healing. Generally speaking, Western medicine is necessary for recovery, as it has become routine to take a Tylenol for a headache, or in this case, get prescribed antibiotics for a virus or disease.

However, as Leweke explained, after we finish antibiotics and recover from one illness, the question of how to return to our natural, connected state arises. She feels that is what we are missing: Natural healing.

The act of giving oneself over to nature’s simplicity, or utilizing breath and stretch techniques, takes a necessary vulnerability and willingness to do.

As Leweke performs her massage therapy, she said there is a certain openness to how she performs her

work that is too intimate to talk about.

“It’s already vulnerable to explain going out to the tree and connecting to that, so talking about touch is something so intimate that I don’t think we’re there yet,” Leweke said.

Nonetheless, curiosity has led natural lifestyle practitioners such as Leweke, Tullo and numerous others to create their businesses within the Valley.. However, the biggest challenge in itself has not been connecting with people like-minded as them, but fully connecting their business to those outside of their lifestyle.

“Hiding isn’t the right word, but us [natural healers] standing without a need to advertise it, specifically without the need to advertise,” Tullo said.

The “energetic flow” of people coming in and out of the natural lifestyle, as Tullo mentioned, has simultaneously built itself up while remaining dormant. On the West Coast or in Vermont, where Tullo originally lived before coming to Harrisonburg, herbalism has always been the norm.

“Specifically in Harrisonburg, there’s an exchange that hasn’t happened yet, but there is an awakening to it,” said Tullo, “Since 2022, there has been a building of healers, and it’s blowing up in a good way.”

While natural healing and herbalism are gaining popularity in the Shenandoah Valley region, these practices have long been deeply rooted among Indigenous peoples. Specifically, the Monocan, Siouan, and Iroquoian speakers.

At one point, the center of the Valley was notably along the Great Wagon Road, or U.S. Route 11, as “The mountains have always been for natural healers,” Tullo said. These traditions are what truly inspire practitioners like Tullo and Leweke to pursue their work.

As Leweke also expressed, this phenomenon contributed to the creation of “Mother Bear” itself: “Indigenous people would follow the bear and [observe] what it was taking in for medicine,” said Leweke. “It’s how the client takes care of herself is to become like the bear– connect to the earth, eat these roots and you’ll find your way to healing.”

Thus, the concept of what “Mother Bear” represents was established.

Throughout the years that Leweke and Tullo have embarked on their natural healing journeys, one consistent theme has emerged, which Leweke encapsulated: medicine does not necessarily need to be a cure, but rather a source of comfort.

“A comfort is medicine enough,” Leweke said. “It’s not going to cure cancer, maybe, but comfort is healing, and that is what you want.”

Top Left: They are believed to be the earliest known flowering plants. Magnolia flowers about to bloom.

Middle Left: Tullo provides natural remedies at the Blackberry Herbarium through salves, serums and teas.

Bottom Left: Magnolia flowers in bloom. They are some of the oldest trees and they are older than bees.

Right: Mother Bear cheers with a piece of a magnolia petal, Eating magnolia petals is safe and they can be used in the creation of tea.

Photos by Meirra McChristian

Vehicle Vendors of the Valley Vehicle Vendors of the Valley

Fuel the Valley, one town, one meal, one story at a time

Written byMaya Skurski

Photos by Jacob Little

In between the winding roads of the Shenandoah Valley, a different kind of movement stirs — one served hot off a grill and handed through a window. From Philly cheesesteaks in Strasburg, to walking tacos in Lexington, food trucks redefine Valley cuisine and what it means to dine locally.

While these mobile kitchens feed hungry hikers, tired truck drivers or curious tourists, they also build community and add a fresh flavor into the Valley. As you make your way up and down I-81, it’s clear that the food truck industry is more than just a full-course experience, it also just might be the best meal you’ve had yet!

First stop: The Apple House, Front Royal

Where the scent of cinnamon lingers in the air like a welcome

mat, you pull up to The Apple House — not just a food truck, but a time capsule. Founded in 1963, this family business includes two trucks, a whole shop and the same warmth as your grandma’s kitchen,

That is if your grandma also happened to cook delicious BBQ and the ideal apple butter donuts. With a crunchy outside, and warm, dense center, these donuts are freshly made and dusted in cinnamon sugar, almost like fall snuck a kiss.

The best part of the job? The man behind the counter didn’t have to think, “family orientated,” he said working alongside his mother. That’s the energy preached by The Apple House, something sweet and a whole lot of soul, all

Middle: The Shenandoah Roll is the perfect combination of Japanese cuisine and the mountain heritage of the Shenandoah Valley. The crispy shrimp covered in cucumber, avocado, and eel sauce is a burst of flavor I never knew I needed to try. With passionate owners helping you understand the unique menu, it’s a go-to place if you are in Staunton for the day.

dished out from a truck that feels like a front porch.

Melted Dreams Food Co., Strasburg

There is a truck in the Northern part of the Shenandoah Valley named Melted Dreams Food Co., a name that would be more accurate if they added, “you’ll dream about our cheesesteaks” to the end of it. Parked in town, with a line resembling a neighborhood reunion more than a food truck queue, the vibe is easy-going and full of chit-chat.

A lot of folks find the truck online and visit to see what the hype was about. Its signature “MLTD Style Cheesesteak” comes oozing with melty goodness, stacked with candied bacon and crushed Doritos tucked right in for a unique mix of flavors.

“It’s mine and my husbands’ business,” said the woman in the window when asked what it’s like to work a truck like this. “My husband’s from here, so we get to serve our community.”

The magic of Melted Dreams Co. lies in its local roots, creative guts and a sandwich that somehow tastes like nostalgia and boldness all at once.

Captain Billy’s Seafood, Woodstock

If you’re ever in Woodstock and catch a strong whiff of Old Bay and butter, it’s probably leading you to the Captain Billy Seafood truck. At first glance the truck itself and the thought of seafood from a truck might make you hesitate.

“I get people who are like ‘I’ve seen it, but it’s kind of like gas station sushi’,” the third Captain Billy said. “But once you get it.” he blew a chef’s kiss in the air, and boy is he right.

The truck may not look new, but if it did, people would not know it’s been around since 1983. The truck could even be the oldest food truck in Shenandoah Valley, while some even claim it was possibly the first in the country.

“ We’ve never had any way to verify, but a lot of people seem to think that Captain Billy’s, well, it was definitely the first food truck around here and they’re thinking it might be the first food truck in the country,” he said.

Captain Billy is more than just a name; it’s a legacy. He is the third to run the truck, which serves only wild-caught seafood and steams it fresh to order.

That kind of pride doesn’t just

feed you — it makes you remember every bite.

“I had to help him [former Captain Billy] for four years before he agreed to sell it, that was the deal,” he said.

The shrimp and snow crab legs are served hot, juicy and perfectly seasoned, with spot-on cocktail sauce. With two trucks proudly repping the Marine Corps, the setup feels less like a food truck and more like something solid— the kind of place that earns its reputation.

Halfway: Smokin’ Q’s, Harrisonburg

Right in the Valley’s center is Smokin’ Q’s, where the smell alone will convince you to cancel your dinner plans. What’s on the menu –pulled pork, baby back ribs, brisket, smoked chicken and sides good enough to hold their own.

The first bite of the brisket sandwich offers juicy, smoky meat which is fall-apart tender. The pitmaster, Jodi Folk, is quiet but kind — someone who clearly puts care into what he serves.

When asked what he liked most about running the truck, he said, “I get to make the food I like.”

It used to be the people, he said, but COVID changed that.

Still, there remains a kind of calm pride at Smokin’ Q’s, a confidence carried by flavor not flash, and the brisket does the talking. Napkins are necessary, seconds will be considered and for a truck parked humbly on the side of the road, it feels like a backyard cookout done right.

Taqueria El Quetzal, Bridgewater

A little further down the road, tucked into a gravel lot with shaded picnic tables and a charming ambiance, sits a taco heaven: Taquería El Quetzal. Surrounded by a pair of Latino food trucks, its bright red posts, scent of grilled meat in the air, and prices that make you double-take help it stand out..

The staff pick is quesabirrias — and let’s just say: If you know, you know. The chorizo? Unreal.

The chorizo is unreal and if you are lucky enough to know about the staff’s pick of quesabirria’s you know how tasty they are. The chorizo is spiced perfectly, crispy-edged and tucked into freshly warmed corn tortillas that taste like they were made ten minutes ago, as they most likely are.

It may not be flashy, but it does not need to be when its authenticity lies down to the last fleck of cilantro. Six bucks will get you two taco’s that hit like a full meal, and are served with a smile. Kids played nearby, locals seemed like regulars, and you left

wondering if you just stumbled into one of the Valley’s best-kept culinary secrets

Old School Burgers, Weyers Cave

Just off a gravel patch, parked beside an old-school country store with a loft and cozy outdoor seating, Old School Burgers lives up to its name and then some. This food bus serves more than just smash burgers, it serves the kind that leaves people thinking about them the rest of their lives.

It’s the kind of burger that sizzles on the griddle until the edges go crisp, then gets stacked high with locally sourced veggies and, if you’re brave, or some would say lucky, a slab of melty ghost pepper jack cheese that hits like a warm hug and a dare at the same time. The dill pickle or the malt vinegar fries are seasoned to perfection, creating an addictive result.

There is nothing pretentious about the setup — just a few picnic tables, a chalkboard menu and the smell of beef and butter doing their thing. But somehow, that simplicity makes it even better, as Old School isn’t trying to reinvent the burger — it’s a truck doing it better than most restaurants try.

Yummy Hibachi Express, Staunton

Next up is Staunton, Virgina, where Yummy Hibachi Express is proof that a food truck can serve sushi rivaling any sit-down spot. The crab rangoons are warm, creamy, and golden-crisp on the edges.

The Shenandoah Roll is as unique and beautiful as the area it’s named after. The roll comes drizzled with eel and spicy “yummy sauce” that’s sweet, sticky, and that leaves you licking the plate.

The sushi is fresh, warm, pleasing to the eye and priced in a way that makes trying multiple rolls not just tempting but necessary. Open for just under two years, the truck has quickly become a Staunton staple.

The truck has streamlined the process, too, allowing you to order online and hang out in your car with a buzzer until your food’s ready. When we asked what keeps him going, the man working the window didn’t hesitate: “I love seeing people leave with a smile.” And honestly, with food this good, it’s hard to leave any other way.

Seeing people leave with a smile is what keeps the man working the window going, as he loves it, he said. With food as good as this, it is hard to leave any other way.

Last stop: White Horse Kitchen, Lexington

If you find yourself down South,

you might stumble upon a roadside secret — a place where the name and menu all line up like fate. It’s parked next to an actual horse facility — fitting, right? People are greeted with the smell of sautéed peppers and onions before they even see the truck.

The Shire is a hearty, melty sausage sandwich stacked with freshcut veggies and grilled to absolute perfection.

“Everything’s fresh,” the lady in the window said, with the fries handcut and the BBQ smoked onsite. It serves the kind of food that tastes like it came from a kitchen, not a trailer.

The menu has a variety like no other and the atmosphere was thoughtful, welcoming and Southern to the core, as the good food, good folks, and even a horse or two in the distance make it a full-circle kind of stop. — White Horse Kitchen is exactly how it should be, seeking food at someone’s BBQ and being handed a plate before you even knock.

Bottom Left: Downhome flavor meets ocean treasure right here in the Shenandoah Valley.

Top: The worn-down food truck may scare away some customers, but once they learn the truck’s history as one of the oldest food trucks in Virginia, and the helpful owner points out the best thing to order, it becomes a must-stop for anyone passing by.

Middle: If you’re looking for a quick bite to eat while driving down Interstate 81 and you are in the mood for the best brisket sandwich of your life, this is where you need to go. The golden brown bun with juicy brisket smothered in barbeque sauce is a sandwich you need to try.

Bottom Right: The Apple House is the go-to spot for everything perfect: the friendly employees, the smell of apples throughout the whole store, and, of course, the Apple Butter Donut.

Sips & Scenery Sips & Scenery

Day trip to Nelson County offers hiking, food & drinking

Top Right: The brewery offers an array of Bold Rock flavors as well as other craft beers from Bold Rock’s sister brands.

Bottom Right: One can enjoy a number of different dishes alongside the ciders from Bold Rock Nellysford Cidery, including the Grilled Chicken Caprese sandwich.

Left: At 3,080 feet, Humpback Rock overlooks the Shenandoah Valley and the western horizon.

Written by Julia Tanner

The warmer months are approaching along with the natural desire to get active; seize the opportunity and adventure with friends and family.

Looking for local hiking trails around your area? The Blue Ridge Parkway stretches through the Appalachian Mountains winding a total of 469 miles, providing a variety of different trails to indulge upon. Hiking supplies an outlet for people to take in the fresh air, challenge themselves, and explore different heights of nature. In Nelson County, Virginia, there are numerous cideries, wineries and brewpubs located within a 20- minute radius of the popular hiking destination, Humpback Rock Mountain. After building up an appetite, check out the local hospitality; here are some noteworthy options.

Humpback Rock Mountain

Humpback Rock, part of the Blue Ridge Mountain range, sits at the peak of Humpback Mountain at an elevation of 3,080 feet There are two hike options, a longer one of over 3 miles and a shorter one of 0.8 miles. The difference in the trails is left to the incline and terrain.

The 3-mile hike is much longer, but an easier option to gradually get up the mountain. The other is more of an incline with lots of rocky terrain along the way. Both are equally rewarding once you get to the top.

“I like walking the Appalachian Trail up because it is a lot easier on your legs,” said hiker Darren Patterson. “Just getting out in the woods, trying to get some good walks in, it was a great day. It’s a beautiful day for hiking…the view is worth it.”

At the mountain’s peak lies Humpback Rock, overlooking an entire array of trees and scenery. The trek up the mountain is rough at parts, due to the weathering of the trails over the years. “It’s had several washes since I last came here in October, and it is evened out a lot more now,” said fellow hiker Adam Carpenter. Although trekking up the mountain is a challenge, sitting at the top and taking in the view will put it out of memory.

Bold Rock Cidery, Nellysford Your first culinary stop should be Bold Rock Cidery, located just about 20 minutes away from the hiking trail’s parking lot. Along the way you will notice other attractions like wineries, cideries, ski mountains and other restaurants in the area part of the Nelson 150 group.

Nelson 150 provides community to the local corporations, helping everyone out and crafting up ways to bring in an audience. Bold Rock Cidery differs from the rest with its prominent name, area and craft.

Bold Rock has space for families, events and outdoor activities.

“We’re always trying to plan things and create events that kind of resonate with our community and stay on top of the trends and what people are into these days,” said Margot Goodale, marketing manager for Bold Rock Cidery. The cidery even turned an April Fool’s joke into a real offering: pickle cider.

“Here we are posting about it, saying it as a joke. The people were actually wanting it,” Goodale said. It was a hit.

The Nellysford location is Bold Rock’s headquarters, providing more to do outdoors with the main tap room, the barrel barn and the large grassy area called “The Meadow.”

“Mainly in the spring, summer and early fall months, we have live music every weekend, usually in the meadow,” Goodale said. we’ll usually have that on Saturdays,” Goodale said. Upcoming Sundays will include live music at the barrel barn, offering cocktails and spirits.

The summer and fall months are primary months for Bold Rock as many people are outside looking to take in nature. Come visit the Bold Rock Cidery sometime soon to taste out their established and special cideries, as well as grab some food off their seasonal menus.

Devil’s Backbone, Roseland

Another food and drink option in Nelson County is Devil’s Backbone, also located within a 20- minute radius of the hiking parking lot. Its main advantage is an outdoor brewpub that differs Devil’s Backbone from other breweries.

“We’ve got really beautiful views, and then we have just so much going on at our property,” said Brittany Neihmeyer, experience manager. “We have our main indoor place, which has an indoor bar and then also just like a dining room for table service, so you can grab a table and have full service with a server.”

Devil’s Backbone appeals to adults but also provides an outlet for kids to be entertained with things like campgrounds and adaptable food menus.

“When we have events, we try to have kid activities in the summer,” Neihmeyer said. “We’ll put out water guns or we’ll do something to keep kids entertained so that parents can come up and enjoy and relax.”

If you are searching for a challenging hike with the potential to reward yourself afterwards with good food and spirits, head to Nelson County and explore.

The quiet faith The quiet faith

Local Quakers emphasizes simplicity & service

Written by Tatum Nyhuis

In an old church, a group from all walks of life gather in silence.

This quiet fills the church. Except for the occasional creak of the wood panels, or shuffling feet, or the birds chirping outside, the worship services at Valley Friends Meeting are marked by quiet moments.

Until someone is moved to speak.

Like one recent Sunday, a woman stands up wrapped in the sunlight coming through the stained glass windows. She shared what she called a little sign from God she had received

earlier in the week from a student who gifted her a homemade pair of paper crane earrings after hearing what they represent.

“After World War II, a paper cranes became a symbol of hope and a different kind of healing for the world, and here is this student who brought these paper crane earrings to me,” (attribute, last name said) “It is just one of those moments that you think, ‘Thank you God, I needed a reminder of peace in this time.’”

Then, the room fades back to

Far Left: Paper cranes fill the small corners of the church, a reminder of hope for all who worship there.

Far Right: Traditional Quaker churches do not have glass stained windows, but this one is unique. This is the main window that fills the church with light every Sunday morning.

a silence.

Following this personal time spent with God, individual church goers or “friends” of Valley Friends introduce themselves and share about their week. They explain what brought them to church, and whether it was a wonderful play they saw, or the death of a loved one, each is met with respect from their community.

Valley Friends Meeting is one of about 30 meetings in Virginia. “Friends,” or Quakers, are a small but mighty religious group that dates back to 1605.

Today, there are over 300,000 members. Friends believe they are led by the Holy Spirit and their core values, called SPICES: simplicity, peace, integrity, community, equality and stewardship.

In May, Valley Friends celebrated its 25th year anniversary of being in its current church building, significant for them as their meeting house is an old Presbyterian church with stained-glass windows. This is a controversial choice for Quaker meeting houses Most are plain on the outside to follow tradition and the belief in simplicity.

Prior to acquiring this location, Valley Friends met in individual homes and rented spaces in the evening. This did not fit well with their community’s schedules, so they purchased this building on South Main Street in Dayton.

The purchase took some time, as all decisions regarding the church need to be unanimous.

Decision-making is slow and long, but members say it benefits the community’s understanding of one another and deepens their connections.

Each friend at Valley Friends has an individual experience that brought them here and continues to bring them back. Few are lifelong Quakers.

Suzanne Fiederlein, a newly retired JMU academic, who found her way to the Quaker community through its advocacy work with the sanctuary movement in the 1980s. The sanctuary movement was a faith based movement that provided safety to refugees fleeing civil war in Central America. Fiederlein slowly opened up to

the idea of attending friends’ meetings after avoiding religious organizations due to her negative experiences growing up.

“Ever since I keep coming back because the belief of that of God in every individual and working on behalf of our community to be a place for all really resonated with me and my beliefs,” Fiederlein said.

Many Quaker groups are associated with advocacy work and social-justice causes, a practice dating back to Quakers’ involvement with helping enslaved people escape through the Underground Railroad. This activism has continued over the years as many Quakers were involved in the suffrage movements for both women and African-Americans, and also antiwar protests.

Nathan Wright’s family have been practicing Quakers dating all the way back to Jamestown.

“It gives me a sense of community and brings me closer to God and the emphasis on care to the Earth and to one another,” Wright said. “We actually got solar panels to kind of show other faith communities in the area that you can do this without breaking the bank.”

Friends have also placed an importance on respecting the Earth and doing what they can to “lessen their carbon footprint on the world,” Wright said.

David Pruett, a retiree, found his home in a meeting house in Richmond.

“The first day I went, the greeter was named Michelle and I told her, ‘I’ve never been to a Quaker meeting before.What do I expect?’ And she told me, ‘Expect nothing and you’ll be pleasantly surprised,’” Pruett recalled. He now attends Valley Friends.“I keep coming back because I have kind of always had a meditating streak.” Practicing meaningful silence in a community draws him back after 39 years and everytime he walks through the doors of the meeting house he reminds himself to expect nothing. “Silence is a gift and taking the time to connect with God and oneself as a collective and privately is so special to Friends meetings.”

Top Middle: A Quaker woman speaks with the reporter about her journey in the faith.

Bottom Middle: Following Sunday worship, members of the Quaker community gather over lunch to connect and reflect.

Photos by Elizabeth Taddeo

Beyond the Blind Spot Beyond the Blind Spot

Jeff Snead’s journey through Shenandoah’s supply chain

Left: Snead shakes the hand of local businessman during final delivery of the day.

Top Right: An Estes Express Lines truck is parked at a bustling freight terminal under clear blue skies, ready to hit the road and keep America’s goods moving.

Middle: The classic white trailers with Estes’ powerball logo can be seen traveling up and down the Shenandoah Valley.

Bottom: Before starting his shift, Snead finalizes all deliveries and shuts the trailer door, heading out for the day.

Written & Photos by Charlotte Davis

Every day, thousands of goods make their way across I-81 in the Shenandoah Valley in tractor-trailers, fueling businesses and filling shelves. Many of us speed right past them, annoyed by their slow pace or fearful of sitting in their blind spot, yet these trucks are the lifeline of the American economy.

Behind every wheel sits a man like Jeff Snead. As Snead prepares for a route he’s driven for years, he offers a glimpse into the job so many Americans depend on even in the face of a nationwide freight shortage.

Estes Express Lines is just one of many less-than-truckload, or LTL, companies keeping America running, even with the trucking industry facing mounting pressures. In the wake of pandemic-era demand and rapid growth, the industry now grapples with a freight recession.

The future of the industry remains unknown as tariffs and inflation have become daily conversation points, but these companies push onward. Shipping companies contribute hundreds of billions of dollars to the country’s GDP, and that is made possible by the drivers who deliver these products.

“Think of any object, and we’ve probably delivered it, animal heads to caskets, you name it,” Snead said. He’s not joking.

As he drives, Snead points out all the places he’s delivered to, and it’s hard to discern any that he hasn’t missed - from Mennonite farms to distilleries. He points out landmarks – the familiar peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains, the bustling activity around local distribution centers and the stretches of farmland that define the Valley’s character. His voice carries a quiet appreciation for the landscape he travels daily, even amids the demands of his job. “It’s stuff like that,” he starts as he points toward

the mountains in the distance, “that makes me believe in God.”

The rhythm of the road begins to settle in, a combination of air brakes and the steady hum of the tires mixed with the occasional break of talking to drivers over his headset. Drivers discuss their days and the conditions of the road, keeping each other entertained as a sense of community has clearly been cultivated here.

As Snead pulls into a JMU parking lot to make a Starbucks delivery, it becomes evident there are other relationships cultivated in this job, too. Snead gets up close with some customers as he makes deliveries inside the building.

The Rose Library Starbucks employees are waiting with a free drink in hand, offering a few minutes of conversation to break up the long hours on the road. It’s a small gesture, but one he appreciates.

“You meet some really good people in this industry. Some of these deliveries have free items they hand to me, just because they’re nice people,” Snead said.

As the afternoon wears on, the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the Valley. The Shenandoah’s beauty is undeniable, but Snead’s focus remains on the road, on the next delivery, on navigating the ebb and flow of traffic.

He shares anecdotes from his years on the road – like being stuck on the side of the road waiting for a tow truck, or just watching landscapes change as the years go on. The day’s work is written on Snead’s face by the time he pulls back into the Waynesboro terminal, a blend of fatigue and quiet satisfaction.

“So, do you have a new appreciation for truck drivers?” he asks when he finally parks the truck. It’s hard not to after spending a day on the road with Jeff Snead.

Preserving the past Keeping African American history alive in the Valley Preserving the past

Left: Monica Robison is the Executive Director of the Shenandoah Valley Black Heritage project(SVBHP). It was established in 2013 to share and illuminate the African American culture within the Shenandoah Valley.

Written by Zach Mendenhall

Newtown Cemetery is a historically African-American cemetery in Harrisonburg established and built in 1869 by freed African Americans which now includes over 900 African-American burials. African-American history in the Shenandoah Valley has often been swept under the rug, but one organization is looking to change that.

The cemetery is just one of many places in the Shenandoah Valley which carries rich African-American history. There are many more which continue to be discovered through the efforts of groups such as The Shenandoah Valley Black Heritage Project, an organization looking “To learn, share, and illuminate the rich history of African Americans in the Shenandoah Valley.”

As this is the project’s mission statement, it includes not just Harrisonburg, but every city in the Valley from Winchester to Roanoke.

The project’s center carries toys and artifacts like topsy-turvy dolls featuring a white and black face that could be switched so kids could experience both. Artifacts from the Lucy F. Simms school, one of Harrisonburg’s first schools for African American students, such as old bells, stamps and pins can also be found at the center.

It also owns a “Green Book,” which helped traveling African Americans find places along the road deemed capable of housing them.

These were important for people like the grandparents of Monica Robinson, the project’s Executive Director, who came from a family of 13 and traveled together selling barrel rags. Making a trek for business operations was not unheard of for African Amercians, making “Green Books” essential for things like vacancy, food, and gas.

These pieces of history are just a few of the many possessed by the center helping to create a small step in remembering African American history in the Valley.

“What we do here is we tried to figure out, based on all of the counties in the Valley, what could we do to connect them so that if you were here and you were traveling north and you wanted to to look at some African American history, how can we connect you to folks up there and into the South as well,” Robinson said.

Retired lighting designer and Washington, D.C. native Robin Lyttle founded the project in 2013. She moved to The Valley with black history on her mind, as she worked in D.C., prompting her to hire African-American employees, Robinson said.

After discovering a lack of black history upon her arrival in the Valley, Lyttle realized something needs to be done to preserve history before it passes on forever, Robinson said. Lyttle got an inheritance from her father and with the money, purchased the building where the center is currently located.

“The amount of AfricanAmerican history available now compared to 10 years ago is remarkable,” Robinson said. “When people start talking about their growing up, their experiences, those places that were significant to them, the people in their lives…that’s when we’re able to pull out of them more information than they even knew they had to give.”

Robinson had “no connection” to her past while growing up in Harrisonburg, she said, but being able to help restore that disconnect has been wonderful, as she enjoys seeing evidence of her work pay off.

Before becoming Executive Director in 2020, she volunteered at the program, helping with their internship program for four years before becoming full time. Before the project, she taught public school for 17 years and four years of private school for children with disabilities.

She went to Hampton University her first year out of high school, but waited a couple years to go back to college after having a son. When he reached kindergarten, she finished an associates degree at Blue Ridge before completing her undergraduate, teaching licence, and masters degree at JMU.

Evidence of the economy at work such as African Americans selling vegetables or completing small property transactions also brings to light the work African Americans participated in and makes Robinson proud, she said. She finds things like this in old local newspapers which prove African Americans did more than “float along,’’ she said.

“It’s great to see that all of those stereotypes that are out there are not all true,” Robinson said. “It’s good to know that we were flourishing and fighting and

scraping to make a difference, just like our white peers in the same community,” Robinson said.

Seeing the growth that truly occurred can also lift a person’s confidence or morale, as knowing the truth sets them free, Robinson said. “ A lot of times stereotypes are what holds you down, yeah, if you think that’s all you can be, and you think that’s all you are, then that’s all you will be, but when you see that it’s not truthful, then you bust out of that, and then watch out folks.”

Entrepreneurs Alina and Henry Stewart formerly lived across from Robinson and owned a boxing gym and record store where they employed local African American boys. They were tasked with refilling and servicing jukeboxes in white establishments.

Henry played football at the former Effinger Street School, the first public black school in Harrisonburg. His pads, helmet and cup are now on display at The Shenandoah Valley Black Heritage Project, along with his boxing gloves.

“He donated quite a bit of their stuff to us, not knowing where to put it, but I remember growing up going across the street, they lived right across the street from us,” Robinson said. “They were such a huge staple in our community, that I think that they don’t get enough credit for what they did.”

The project also possesses a library with over 1,200 books, organized into different categories like fiction and nonfiction, and different historical periods. It is named in honor of Doris Harper Allen, one of the original founders of the project who wrote a memoir about her life growing up in The Valley as an African American woman.

Robinson works at the center with the project’s research administrator, Taya Whitley, who runs rootsrundeep.org, the project’s website showcasing its many selfguided tours, and links with oral descriptions, and maps highlighting past African American businesses and landmarks. With many tasks to complete, she wishes she had “two more,” of her, she said.

Whitley graduated from JMU in 2021 with a history degree and is now the Research Administrator at The Shenandoah Valley Black Heritage Project. Being from Harrisonburg, she feels more

engaged with her surrounding community of black people now than before, as staying connected to descendents is important to her, she said.

“She’s amazing, she’s a wonderful self-starter but more importantly, she’s a whole different demographic,” Robinson said. “We don’t get a lot of college kids coming in…So for Taya, when she experiences an enlightenment piece, it’s like, yes, we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing, yeah, because it’s interesting to a new demographic.”

Since joining, Whitley feels the project has built more relationships with individual community members and expanded its social media presence, allowing those interested to become aware of its message, she said, with events during black history month becoming “bigger and better.”

Self-guided tours offered by the project have expanded from just Harrisonburg, next to Rockingham County, and now every county up and down The Valley. This has been made possible through connections with other groups sharing a similar mission in places like Staunton and Woodstock, she said.

“Each tour is listed as well as their individual sites where you’ll find a description and photographs as well as location and directions to get to each site,” Whitley said. “I also recently included a page where it lists active, local black businesses throughout the valley to highlight what’s here now.”

Along with its library and extensive tours, the center also offers help with genealogy, offering DNA kits through ancestry.com. “We help them build their family trees, we help them understand what you can do with census data, what they can do with information from ‘Find A Grave’, you know, just whatever they need help with,” Robinson said.

Whitley’s father often told her stories about the harshness of growing up in Harrisonburg as a black person, but more doors for both good and bad have been opened through her work, she said.

“We never talked about their childhood growing up, so it didn’t register to me, that’s where they would have gone to, school until I was looking up newspaper articles in our Daily News Record archive, and my grandmother’s name showed up on our honor roll,”

Whitley said. “It kind of puts into reality that that part of Black history is not too far from my generation.”

She enjoys working with Robinson and feels connected to her, as they both grew up in Harrisonburg, she said.

“It’s interesting working with Monica, it’s interesting what she’s experienced, and how she views the world, and how she views the way to go about our mission, versus how I do as a younger person,” Whitley said. “There’s not really a clashing, there’s an understanding, and we we both like, think similarly so we compromise a lot.”

The work done by the project has also inspired others in the community to become involved with the work it does.

Three years ago, Harrisonburg resident Barb Melby went to the project to buy a book when she sparked up a fascinating conversation with Robinson and Lyttle. They asked if Melby had received one of their many ‘thank you notes’ for her grant, as Melby has been involved with many Harrisonburg nonprofits.

Robinson and Lyttle felt terrible for being behind on ‘thank you notes’ and being “the queen of ‘thank you notes,’ Melby told them she would be happy to help write notes for donations. She now serves on the project’s board and is very happy to do so, she said.

“We had no African Americans in my elementary school, and even when I went to William and Mary, there were very few African Americans,” Melby said. “My experience with African Americans was very, very limited, and so when I was so taken with what Black Heritage project was doing that I felt it was certainly worth some time and effort to work with them.”

Melby feels it is critical that the history and stories of African Americans in The Valley are kept alive, she said, both locally and up and down The Valley. She feels African Americans both historically and currently deserve to have their stories told, as contributing her time and effort towards the project’s mission is important to her, she said.

“I have a lot to learn from Black Heritage project, as do most of the people I associate with,” Melby said. “African Americans, historically and currently, deserve for their stories

to be told and those stories kept alive. “It’s just, it’s vital that this mission continues, and so that the stories stay alive and are told.”

Melby also feels the project has inspired other groups to preach its same mission by helping clean cemeteries and offering events which benefit the community, she said. She feels Robinson’s main vision for the project is to serve the community that the center itself is located in, she said.

“I think Monica wants to advance that service to the community that the center is in and I really look forward to helping with that, because I think it’s a good vision,” Melby said. “We’ve got the tours, we’ve got the publications, and we’ve advanced those things.”

She feels there are moments in today’s history where the stories and achievements of African Americans in local history are in danger of being swept back under the rug like they once were, which scares her, she said. To her, this particular time gives the mission “even more beauty,” as today’s politics inspire her further to keep it alive, she said.

“I have a lot to learn from Black Heritage project, as do most of the people I associate with,” Melby said. “African Americans, historically and currently, deserve for their stories to be told and those stories kept alive. “It’s just, it’s vital that this mission continues, and so that the stories stay alive and are told.”

Robinson’s main goal is to create consistency within the project, increasing its availability in tours and hours. One future idea is to establish virtual offices throughout different counties in The Valley that remain in contact with each other, as the Harrisonburg Office currently stands alone, she said.

The togetherness built by the project and black community makes Robsinon stronger and gives her a reason to keep doing the work she does, she said. Being able to prove the strength and resilience of an African American community which once thrived and continues to do so pushes her to make things better for the future, she said.

Photos by Jacob Little

Top: This historic doll is one of the many items in the Shenandoah Valley Black Heritage Project’s collection of local historic pieces.

Middle: Taya Whitley, the Research Administrator for the Shenandoah Valley Black Heritage Project, has organized a large section of the books surrounding her. These books range from historical fiction to nonfiction to even children’s books.

Bottom: This part of the extensive book collection focuses on historical fiction. These are just some of the many books that have been put on record for others interested in or wanting to read.

Far Left: This group picture was taken on July 1st, 1954, in Harrisonburg. You may not think that history can be close to home, but this picture, as well as countless others, reminds us that history isn’t so far away after all.

is

Top Right: She places the jewelry in pink boxes and has some Avon pieces as well.

Middle: This is Miss Bridges and her daughter posing in front of their home.

Bottom Right: One of the bracelets Merrick has created. In total it takes her 2 hours to create each one.

Crafting With Care Crafting With Care

From family heirlooms to handmade bracelets

Left: Jewelry

scattered on the table outside of Miss Bridges home.

In a house along a road in Verona, a mother-daughter duo is turning creativity and connection into a small business. From their house to pop-up shops at Valley Mall, Twilla Bridges and her daughter, Merrick Bridges, are crafting more than just jewelry — they’re creating a story of family entrepreneurship.

Twilla’s journey began when her father left her with some jewelry in December after he died. She decided to keep some for her and her daughter and then sell the rest.

“What inspired me to continue to keep selling my jewelry is [...] it’s fascinating to see the different pieces I sometimes get and to talk to the customers and the people about the pieces and just have the interaction,” Bridges said.

Once Merrick got older, she decided she wanted to make her own jewelry.

“I initially started making bracelets as a hobby,” Merrick said. “I expanded and I learned more about it. There’s a bunch of different stitching you can do to make really fun shapes.”

Merrick said they became inspired because of seeing how well their mother sold jewelry and seeing her interactions with people.

Twilla gets excited to talk with people who come up and look at her stand. She learned she had a knack for sales and enjoys the friendliness of talking with people.

“Right now it’s more of a hobby than a business, but

eventually we want to turn it into a business,” Twilla said.

She finds the majority of her pieces through online auctions. She said she could go to a pawn shop and sell her pieces but instead she enjoys finding the time to chat with others to find their perfect piece.

Merrick takes the creative lead on the bracelet line — her signature style features playful color palettes, stretch cord, and thoughtful details like charms or letter beads spelling out uplifting words.

“There was this little boy at the last event that we did, Valentine’s Day, and then up at the Valley Mall. He was, like, four or five,” Merrick said “And it was Super Bowl weekend. And I had already made these bracelets for the Super Bowl because I was like, ‘That’s a good idea, right?’ And I never, I’m so sad, I never got to give it to him because I didn’t have the time to until the next day, but his grandmother was so thankful and she was so sweet.”

In the future, Twilla hopes to continue this hobby with her daughter. Merrick has graduated high school but still hopes to carry on with creating bracelets.

Shoppers can find the Bridges and their jewelry at scheduled Valley Mall pop-ups. Their next pop up events will be the Green Valley Book Fair on May 10th, a Christmas in July event in the first weekend in July, and the Rockbridge community festival on August 23rd. Whether it’s a simple charm bracelet or a custom gift, every piece tells a story — one of family, passion, and creativity.

A light in the dark A light in the dark

Left: Baker Riggs glances up to the sky, in a way, grateful for the sunny day.

Right: Riggs prays over the inmates here at the Rockingham-Harrisonburg Judicial Center.

Jail chaplain provides hope to local inmates

Written by Evan Moody

A young man once strayed from his Christian upbringing and fell into a life of stealing credit cards, eluding arrest and committing other crimes. He was eventually apprehended in South Carolina and transferred to Rockingham-Harrisonburg Regional jail.

He asked to meet with the jail’s chaplain to inquire about God and find company in the isolating environment. Eventually, the man began meeting with the chaplain weekly, eventually starting his own Bible study.

A judge dealt the man a harsh sentence during the trial. Though he owned every right to be upset with the judge and with God, he had no animosity, as his faith had returned stronger than ever and he found peace because of it.

The man, whose name was not released due to protect his privacy, is just one of countless inmates Baker Riggs, the chaplain of Rockingham-Harrisonburg Regional Jail, has cared for. Riggs, a former felon himself, uses his own experience to connect with inmates on a deeper level.

“When I’m talking with an inmate, if it’s the first time, they view me as a religious being,” Riggs said. “But when I say I’m a former felon and tell them a little bit about that, it just knocks that wall down and makes me relatable to them.”

Riggs began experimenting with drugs as a teenager, leading to a lifestyle of abuse. During this time, he indulged in marijuana, LSD and cocaine, eventually selling illegal drugs himself.

Riggs was arrested by an undercover agent at 17 in the middle of a school day and had a felony charge placed on his record. In prison, Riggs asked an officer for a Bible, which began a spiritual change and sparked his commitment to faith.

In 2000, Riggs became a Methodist pastor and was drawn to conduct prison ministry at Coffeewood

Correctional Center in Culpeper. He then became a part-time minister at the HarrisonburgRockingham County jail after the position opened.

Riggs conducts ministry through Virginia Mennonite Missions, a religious organization in Harrisonburg helping people join God’s mission. Skip Tobin, a ministry coach who works with Riggs, is part of VMMissions.

When considering Riggs for the position, Tobin asked others who had worked with the previous minister their thoughts of him.

“With those folks, we discern who we should have and what we should do. They all agreed on Baker, who was a lot of fun, and because we really liked him,” Tobin said. “The administration took him on right away and we began on funding.”

Tobin said he brought Riggs on because of his listening skills and ability to share God’s love. As Riggs has met with inmates, Tobin said, their willingness to open up to him allows God to impact them on deeper levels.

While Riggs was granted a parttime position at the jail, it would still need more funding to bring him up to full time. As neither the jail nor state pays Riggs for his ministry, his salary relies on the good will of others.

This comes from those who care for the inmates and understand the importance of a jail chaplain, Tobin said. Included in this group is Marvin Weaver, who founded Rockingham County Jail Ministries to help raise support for Riggs and bring him to full time.

Weaver first encountered Riggs when he was introduced as parttime minister to the jail. Currently, he volunteers at the jail and ministers at church services held at Riggs’ location.

Weaver has gained a first-hand experience of seeing God work through Riggs. Recently, 12 inmates committed their lives to Christ after he invited them to become Christians during a church service.

“When you see their eyes light up, they know what hope is. I mean they’re pretty much down at the bottom of the barrel and they’re looking for hope,” Weaver said. “And we tell them we’re no better than that.”

Along with weekly church services, Weaver said there’s a

need for God to impact inmates’ lives outside of Sunday. As part of his fulltime ministry, Riggs holds an office at the jail where inmates can request to see him.

During meetings, inmates are brought into the office with handcuffs and their hips chained to the floor. If Riggs feels he is in danger, he has a button he can press to alert officers and sound alarms.

Inmates can also sign up for a discipleship class offered by Riggs. He provides his ministry to both believers and nonbelievers and presents everyone with the opportunity to follow Christ.

“If you’re in a crisis, if the world’s falling apart, you want someone to speak to you,” Riggs said. “None of them refuse prayer. I always prayed with them. But there are those that come in, they have been received, and I walk with them continually and see some wonderful things.”

Riggs’ ministry creates a lasting impact on inmates with many beginning their own prison ministries and finding churches after being released. One night while having dinner out, a former inmate tapped Riggs on the shoulder, and Riggs noticed how well the former inmate was doing.

For Riggs, this interaction helps him to understand the value of his ministry. In an environment that may have a difficult audience, he relies on

scripture and lessons from the Bible to motivate his work.

In particular, when inmates are first being held, Riggs tells them the story of Jonah to exemplify God’s mercy and grace. By doing so, he said he can better explain the incarceration concept and deal with the frustration and confusion that accompanies it.

“I tell the inmates that this institution, the jail, is like the belly of the big fish, and that’s why they’re there,” Riggs said. “I believe man uses the institution to punish. I believe God uses it for different things, to soften hearts, to calm souls.”

Tobin has noticed Riggs does not judge the incarcerated people he works with, but rather, is understanding and loving. Because of his approach, the inmates find hope. Meanwhile, Tobin sees Riggs showcasing the teachings of Jesus through his work.

“Sometimes folks in jail realize their situation, in their trouble and that’s a place where God can really work. Some of these people come out of jail and they shine really bright,” Tobin said. “They’ve seen God change their lives and that gives us a whole lot of hope. That’s hopeful for everybody.”

Photos by Elizabeth Taddeo

Anne Adams Anne Adams

She writes it, she edits it, & then she delivers it

Written by Zach Mendenhall

If you’re brave enough to drive through and over the snaking, winding roads of the Allegheny Mountains, you will stumble across Monterey, a town with a population of about 150 people. It marks the center of Highland County, home to around 2,200 people.

Amongst a town where everyone seems to know everyone, some of the people here include characters like a world-champion taxidermist and an award-winning horseback rider.

Every Thursday morning beginning at 7:30 a.m., Monterey’s local Mobil 1 gas station, post office, and grocery stores receive their stack of that week’s issue of ‘The Recorder.’ While the local sheriff can often be spotted sipping his morning cup of joe, the paper’s publisher is on the move, distributing small town news at a rapid pace.

Her name is Anne Adams and she’s keeping news for an isolated part of the Shenandoah Valley alive. Not only this, but her publication ensures that Highland County and the surrounding areas do not fall into the same trap of becoming a news desert much of the Shenandoah and Appalachia have.

Back in October of 1877, The Recorder began distributing news to people of Highland County in what at the time was a large circulation. The company’s current office is an old family home with kerosene tanks sticking out here and there under the stairs.

In her 35th year at The Recorder, Adams remains a critical part of the community, informing them with accurate and in-depth information, even in a time when many small community newspapers are dying. With thousands of newspapers having disbanded in the last decade, the nation has seen an increase in ‘news deserts,’ areas lacking a significant local news source.

“We’ve lost thousands and thousands of newspapers across the country, most of them my size and my age, so then you end up with a community without a newspaper, without any source of news,” Adams said. “What happens is not good.”

it… never a dull moment out here.”

In her approach to keep small town news thriving, Adams believes “everybody has a story,” she said. “Telling people stories, there’s sort of something about it that gets in your blood, you know, this is fun and it’s interesting,” Adams said. “I’m putting out a different product every single week. There’s a lot of pattern to

Before being hired by ‘The Recorder,’ Adams never took a journalism class her entire college career.

She landed in Monterey straight from earning her Art Major at Tulane University after her mother needed help renovating her home. After spending the summer in Highland County, Adams loved it, she said, and never looked back.

After meeting her husband Byron in 1990, Adams realized she needed a job when she stumbled across a position selling advertisements for the local newspaper. Initially being turned down, the original choice for the position declined the offer, leaving Adams next in line, she said.

She began working at ‘The Recorder’ that same year, putting her art degree to work by designing the covers for special sections of the paper. She sold advertisements, traveling to Staunton two or three days a week, while also writing some early features.

Adams bought the paper from her former boss Lee Campbell in 2007, after he originally planned selling it to a larger corporation. Before becoming the paper’s leader, she held every single job there was to hold at ‘The Recorder,’ from writing to delivering and printing.

During her time, the publication has expanded over the years and now spans three counties, Highland County, Bath County, and Allegheny County, with papers printed in Woodstock, Virginia. As of today, The Recorder delivers 2,076 papers weekly.

“That’s really, really cool to see that, you know, we can cover and reach that many people,” administrative assistant Emily Hull said. “The viewers and the readers I would say in that period it has more than doubled, probably tripled, if not more.”

Hull handles circulation, billing, subscriptions and the mailing list used to deliver papers to Bath County before someone else took that task. Hull has been at ‘The Recorder’ about a year and, with kids in school, wanted to be close to home, she said.

She graduated from Highland County High School with 23 kids in her class, and is used to her small town environment. Growing up in Highland County, Hull has known about ‘The Recorder’ her entire life If something happens in the county, ‘The Recorder’ is sure to know about it, as odds are you are likely to see a friend or even yourself appear, she said.

Working with Adams has allowed Hull to see her commitment come to life. She feels it is essential to the people of Highland County that ‘The Recorder’ continues and Adams keeps doing what she loves, she said.

“She never stops, you know, I don’t know if she gets any sleep really,” Hull said. “It’s admirable to see how much she cares and how much she wants to keep the paper going, and it’s really inspiring, for sure.”

Adams is known for her in-depth, truthful storytelling, regardless of the feedback from her town. One of Adams most well-known stories was in 2010 and details Dr. David Drawbaugh, who was not actually a doctor at all but lied about his credentials while seeing patients for years.

“They recruited him to be the head of the medical center here, and they paid for him to move here and he was a real well-liked person in the community and then he found that one of his employees was embezzling…that person said ‘Guess what, I know you’re no doctor,’” town council member Eric Sax said. “She had a really great series about it that was very detailed about what was going on exactly.”

When the story was released, it was not popular among the community with many wanting Adams to kill it, Sax added. A story like this highlights one of the difficult aspects of working in a small-town paper: Sometimes uncomfortable things and topics are going to be reported, and the community may not like it, he said.

Sax remembers seeing ‘The Recorder’ during his first visit to Monterey in 2006 where he picked up a copy featuring a front page with a correction stating a recently shot buck was 14 points rather than the originally printed 10 points. He immediately understood the community focus of the paper.

“That’s such a great example of to me, that’s way more interesting, like, if I look at the blotter, so and so I, first of all, I know the deputy, I know the part of the road he was probably on, probably what he was doing, and I might have seen him doing it,” Sax said. “I’ve gotten used to it, and now I go straight to the obituaries, because I usually know at least one person.”

Sax has known Adams since moving to Monterey in 2016, as his wife’s family is from there. Adams is “easy to be friends with,” he said, as his passion for writing allowed the two to become friends instantly.

“I think the tricky part is knowing, seeing things through other people’s

eyes, and that’s got to be one of the most challenging skills of the journey, so she’s good at that,” Sax said. “I think she’s really good at that, and you can almost see it when you look at other publications, like things will get mentioned, but you know that a lot of people in this community maybe don’t know that.”

Sax used to write weekly book reviews for The Recorder, giving his honest feedback in the review. “I had my own selfish reasons for that, like try to pick authors that maybe I would try and contact their publicist, and occasionally I’d get interesting responses, but I didn’t really feel like it was getting a lot of community pull.”

Adams and Sax interact often, she as a reporter and he on the town’s council, where Adams often attends meetings for the paper. Either she or a beat reporter will attend town council meetings, where they are often the only person in the audience.

The only other option for news in Highland County apart from ‘The Recorder’ is a radio station which is currently in “dire straits,” Sax said, as it recently lost part of its funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. He feels it would not be good if ‘The Recorder’ served as the only source of news.

Monterey is an “aging community,” Sax said, with people either living there a long time or moving due to the lower wages. Even as many newspapers reduce or eliminate their printed edition, print is the tradition in Monterey, and it looks to be staying that way for a long time, Sax said.

Despite an online presence reaching states like New Jersey and New Mexico, Monterey’s older population will always want to have something they can hold while they sip their morning coffee every day, said Betty Mitchell, the executive director of Bluegrass Resource Center.

“I can’t imagine living in a town as isolated as we are without a newspaper, it’s really hard to imagine,” Mitchell said. “ We look at what happens with newspapers every week, it seems like they’re gone by the wayside, and it’s hard to think how they can make a go and continue to make a go of it, but yeah, certainly hope they do try to support it.”

Mitchell has been the volunteer economic development officer for the county for 18 years and has lived in Bluegrass of Highland County for 31 years. Adams was one of the first people she met after moving to Monterey 20 years ago.

“It just adds a layer of just caring about what you’re doing when you’re somebody’s only source of

Left: Anne Adams is more than just the head of the Highland Recorder, but arguably the face of Monterey. You can’t walk somewhere without a conversation starting or a car passing by with a wave. Some could say it comes from the stories, but if you just get to know her behind the words, you quickly learn that she is the funniest and most driven person you’ll ever meet.

information,” Hull said. “ I have people tell us that all the time when they call in on the phone, like, if we didn’t have The Recorder, we wouldn’t know about anything, and a lot of older folks don’t use the Internet. Getting that physical copy in their hands is really important to them.”

Despite an online presence reaching states like New Jersey and New Mexico, Monterey’s older population will always want to have something they can hold while they sip their morning coffee every day, Mitchell said.

“I think Anne has an incredible way of being objective with things she really does and I think that’s a huge brave boost for anybody who’s even thinking about being in journalism,” said Mitchell.“I feel like in my 65 years on this earth, I’ve just seen a lot more bias in the past 20 years or so… I think having somebody who tries to really be balanced is good.”

Although it is easier to be an outstanding voice with a smaller community, Mitchell feels Adams is a great journalist who could make an impact anywhere she went, she said. With the number of stories produced and their depth, Mitchell feels Adams has made a great impact on the community of Highland.

“People look after each other here in a different way, yeah, easier to maybe kind of accommodate

all that than it would be in a larger community,” Mitchell said. “The whole breadth of what it covers, what any issue covers, she never tries to cover anything national, you know, but just a good, solid reporting of local news and breaking news.”

Adams’ care stems from her love of the community and love for journalism, Hull said, along with the desire to see print paper remain relevant and not die away.

“It’s just a real privilege to be able to tell people’s stories and be invited into personal lives you know,” Adams said. “I think about the fact that you know, plumbers, electricians, babysitters, everybody like that all needs a license to do the work that they do, but you don’t need one in journalism.”

Along with a possible expansion from Adams, those like Hull, Sax and Mitchell hope to continue seeing ‘The Recorder’ doing what it’s doing in helping deliver news to a community of few.

“How do you even describe to somebody what a paper, a small paper, means to a community like ours, and it’s one of those things if I think about not having it, it makes me sad,” Mitchell said. “I mean, it makes me sad to think that we could lose that, and yet, I’m not sure what we can do to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Photos by Jacob Little