December 2012

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Northwest Georgia’'s Premier Feature Reader / December 2012

M AG A Z I N E

Christmas Between

the R ivers

$4.00


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V3magazine December2012

16 a clarence brown christmas CLARENCE BROWN CONFERENCE CENTER

22 moon pie meltdown

J. BRYANT STEELE ON SECESSIONIST LUNACY

24 art's lord & savior

LAYTON ROBERTS' THE FACES OF CHRIST

30 'bee'-rate social skills

HOLLY LYNCH ON THE DEMISE OF COMMON CIVILITY

32 that's so walraven

WES WALRAVEN'S GORGEOUS ROSE HILL HOME

44 rebel with a claus

ROBB RAYMOND UNVEILS THE "REAL" SANTA

49 your bariatric barometer THE HARBIN CLINIC'S DR. RYLAND SCOTT

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See pg.


A+ Rating

Elizabeth K. Harris Photography

328 Broad St. Rome, Ga. 30161 • 706.291.7236 • GreenesJewelers.com

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i

’m a major sucker for the holiday season. Always have been. You get to see friends and family you don’t see any other time of year, you get the excuse to give gifts to the ones you love, and, of course, you get to enjoy all of the food. More often than not, I’m always game for a good party, and this month in particular presents enough celebratory functions to satiate me for the next 11. Over the Thanksgiving break, my young son, Grady, out of school for the holiday, accompanied me to work at V3’s downtown offices for a few days. On our first day’s lunch break, I seized the opportunity to walk up Broad Street to a true staple of Roman business, the Forrest Barber Shop, so my boy could get himself a first-class haircut. After settling down in the barber’s chair, G immediately pointed out a likeness Santa and Mrs. Claus hanging on the Forrest wall, and soon struck up a conversation with his new “stylist” about his steadfast, unwavering belief in America’s numberone power couple. “I believe in Santa because he’s magic,” he opined with great confidence. “I have friends that don’t believe in him, but they just don’t understand magic.” He then went on to talk about astronauts, dinosaurs, and several more of his favorite topics, and by the end of the haircut, he had made himself a new best friend. Managing Partner/ But the Santa commentary stayed with me. Chief of Advertising Only the wisdom of a child can break things down

Ian Griffin

publisher's’ note

into such simplistic, matter-of-fact terms. Yeah, you’re darn right Santa is real. You know why? Because, goober, he’s magic—and who in his or her right mind doesn’t like magic?! We could all use a little more magic in our lives, if you ask me. Regardless of faith or fortune, this is the time of year to allow a little magic in through your door, chimney, whatever entryway you prefer. Enjoy your loved ones. Let them know how much you enjoy them. Celebrate your religious beliefs, if you carry any. Give to those less fortunate. Creative Partner/ And if none of the above brings any cheer to Designer/Editor-in-Chief your life, then go and do whatever the heck it is that does make you smile. Another thing that makes me smile, of course: publishing our 79th edition of V3 Magazine. My business partner, Neal Howard, and I hope reading the features herein has the same affect on you. A merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Neal Howard

Ian Griffin, Managing Partner

M AG A Z I N E

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF + PRODUCTION MANAGER + ART&DESIGN neal howard WRITERS bryant steele, holly lynch, luke chaffin, mandy loorham, hannah fowler PHOTOGRAPHY derek bell, MFA 706.936.0407 CHIEF OF ADVERTISING + OFFICE MANAGER/ SALES DIRECTOR ian griffin AD SALES + CLIENT RELATIONS chris forino, shadae yancey-warren AD DESIGN + CREATIVE ENGINEERING ellie barromeo PUBLISHER v3 publications, llc CONTACT one west fourth avenue, rome, ga 30161 phone: 706.235.0748 email: v3publicatons@gmail. com

v3magazine.com 8

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oops, ourbad :(

M AG A Z I N E

T

he gentleman seen here is Georgia Power engineering representative Robin C. Burk, not Georgia Power manager of renewable and green strategies Ervan Hancock, as was mistakenly published in the November 2012 edition of V3 Magazine. Our sincere apologies to Mr. Burk and Mr. Hancock for the mix-up. We hope neither of you has been inconvenienced by one or more cases of mistaken identity while going about your daily business— although, if you have been, we humbly ask you to think on the positive side of this editorial slip: Georgia Power’s message to the people of Northwest Georgia, which to our knowledge wasn’t factually botched along with this photo caption, reached the eyes of many readers across this great region—as was our mutual intent. Nevertheless, we are sorry to have made this sort of bush-league oversight at your expense.

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At the Y, we exist to strengthen community. Together with people like you, we nurture the potential of kids, help people understand and improve their health, and At the Y, opportunities we exist to strengthen provide to give back community. withSo people and supportTogether neighbors. join like nurture potential Atyou, the Y,wewe exist tothe strengthen our cause. And create meaningful of kids, help people community. Together withbut people change not just forunderstand you, also and improve health, and likeyour you,community. wetheir nurture the potential for provide to give back of kids,opportunities help people understand andsupport improveneighbors. their health, and Soand join provide to give back our cause.opportunities And create meaningful and support neighbors. So join change not just for you, but also our cause. And create meaningful for your community. change not just for you, but also for your community.

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What Can ClarenceBrown Do For You? When it comes to boosting the local economy in Bartow, Cartersville's

Clarence Brown Conference Center is taking

center stage

S

ometimes, a little faith can go a long way. It’s no secret that the nation’s economy is still on the rebound, but the city of Cartersville may be feeling a bit less of the recession’s lingering impact than many of its neighbors, thanks to the influx of visitors being attracted to the Clarence Brown Conference Center (CBCC). Just two years ago, prior to the center’s opening, its namesake, Bartow County commissioner Clarence Brown, and a group of fellow pastors blessed the facility. Moving from room to room with the staff at their side, the gathering of spiritual leaders quite literally prayed for future visitors to bring the center great success, as well as future successes to those involved in its construction and all might reap the benefits of its presence in Bartow County. Fast-forward to 2012, and the CBCC has clearly emerged as one of the top driving forces behind the local economy. The center regularly brings clients to Cartersville from across the state, and its 44,000 square-foot building is used to host every sort of event from small corporate meetings (complete with widescreen video conferencing) to concerts, even the occasional wedding. But the key to it all, CBCC reps contend, is that people who do business with the center a first time keep coming back. “We rarely lose a customer,” says CBCC director Melissa Rhodes says, adding that her staff works hand-in-hand with the Cartersville-Bartow County Convention and Visitors Bureau (CVB) to ensure their customers return home so satisfied with their visit that they can’t wait to use the center a second time. “Once people come to

Text by Kim Treese Photos by Derek Bell


our center and work with our outstanding staff...they say, ‘You just don’t get service like this in Atlanta.’ ” Although the far-north metro hub of Cartersville was bustling with business traffic before, CVB executive director Ellen Archer says, “the center was the missing link in the tourism product.” In essence, this means that the capacity

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to host larger-scale events in a state-of-the-art local venue―not to mention one that can aptly entertain and impress an organization’s attendees/guests with relative ease―is a huge deal. Because when clients come to town, what do they inevitably do? They spend money. They spend out-of-town dollars in Cartersville-Bartow hotels, on local caterers, in local restaurants. Before the conference center, any outfit wanting to host an event in the area were handed a single option: the Cartersville Civic Center. But unlike the CBCC,

the civic center rarely drew business from outside its home county. “We have great attractions, hotels, restaurants, shopping destinations and events,” Archer says. “Now we also have an accommodating meeting facility, and can truly serve the community as a convention and visitors bureau.” Since opening its doors to commerce, the CBCC says many of its neighboring businesses have noted a rise in annual revenues. “This conference center was


built by the people of this community to serve as an economic engine for Cartersville and Bartow County,” says Rhodes. And the numbers seem to support Rhodes claim. During its first two years of operation, in fact, the conference center has entertained 95,320 patrons, approximately 10 percent of whom (more than 9,000 people) required overnight

Still, Rhodes believes that the CBCC is on the cusp of making a far greater economic impact in the near future. One idea on the table is the potential for constructing a full-service hotel adjacent to the center. “We are working with hotel developers to that end,” says Director Rhodes, “which would drive more business to our doors―and more needed tax dollars and jobs into Cartersville-

Build Council, which measure building sustainability by the following categories: site sustainability, water efficiency, energy and atmosphere, materials and resources, and indoor environmental quality. Just like the Empire State Building, it is now a LEED Gold-certified facility for its green-friendly architectural features and the eco-conscious practices implemented by its staff. For an interesting example, a CBCC visitor need look no further than, well, down―at the floor, more specifically. The building’s beautiful lithocrete flooring, curiously enough, is partially made from recycled glass harvested in a landfill. Unlike marble and granite flooring, terrazzo flooring not only requires no waxing, but is made from 75 percent recycled industrial and consumer glass. Glass that likely would have ended up in the local dump, were it not for these sorts of clever innovations in green construction. The areas of the floor that aren’t glass are rendered from recycled carpet, all of which, along with a majority of the

"[Bartow County has] great attractions, hotels, restaurants, shopping destinations and events. Now we also have an accommodating meeting facility, and can truly serve the community as a convention and visitors bureau." accommodations in the CartersvilleBartow area. To date, CBCC-related consumer spending in the local economy is estimated at roughly $2.4 million, which, in turn, has also resulted in the collection of a little over $73,000 in tax revenue. According to the Georgia Department of Economic Development and the U.S. Travel Association, this growth created around 28 new jobs via ancillary businesses.

Bartow County.” Perhaps the only thing more impressive than the center’s economic impact and grandiose ballroom is its small environmental footprint. According to Rhodes, “The idea was for the building to be as ʽgreen’ as we could afford.” In turn, it was constructed in adherence to the Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) standards delineated by the U.S. Green

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other construction materials, were produced within 50 miles of the center. (Note yet another economic stimulator.) Spilling sunlight from overhead onto the terrazo, reflective, energy-efficient windows give the interior of the structure a genuine warmth. No kidding, even the parking lot is lit with low-wattage lamps. “We have been able to reduce our energy usage significantly,” says Rhodes. “We have seen monthly savings of $5,000 to 6,000 a month by monitoring our usage efficiently.” Many Southern companies with “green initiatives” of their own are choosing Clarence Brown over alternative locations because of its LEED Gold standard. “In energy savings, the conference center benefits directly from being green, and we are able to pass our savings along to the consumer,” says Rhodes As the center’s reputation grows rapidly across Northwest Georgia, Rhodes and her CBCC

Melissa Rhodes CBCC Director

"In energy savings, the conference center benefits directly from being green, and we are able to pass our savings along to the consumer."

Penny Davis

Sales & Events Coordinator

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colleagues are staying focused on the upcoming events schedule. January’s “Food Show with Sysco,” for instance, is expected to bring in over 1,000 food vendors; March will witness the center’s second visit from the Northwest Georgia Bridal Expo. “Cocktails for a Cause” will benefit local kids Jan. 26, 7 p.m. Entertainment will include a live band, buffet, casino, beer, wine, and both live and silent auctions. Tickets are $60 in

advance, $65 at the door. In February, Bartow County’s incarnation of “Dancing with the Stars” hits the stage to benefit the Bartow Homeless Shelter, as well as “Cartersville Has Heart,” a community health event that offers free health screenings, healthy living tips, and lessons on what to do in a medical emergency. The 2013 calendar is filling up quickly at Cartersville’s Clarence Brown Conference Center, it appears―which is great news for everyone. And a great example of how a little faith, a touch of green, and great customer service can go a long way.” VVV


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Cents& Sensibility . with J Bryant Steele

i

t is ironic that in a season when we are celebrating Abraham Lincoln, in film and literature, several states are talking of secession from the country. Lincoln has two primary legacies, abolishing slavery and preserving the Union, and while the secessionists don’t want a return to slavery (as far as we can tell) they do have a beef with the fact they have to share the ideology sandbox. The proponents of secession aren’t

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serious, they say. They even call it “playful.” There are other adjectives one could apply—stupid comes to mind. These are the same right-wing extremists who are quick to yell about how “your” tax dollars are being wasted, yet they have no problem wasting your tax dollars on frivolity to make their point. They are also the sort to criticize New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie, a Republican, for having the nerve to thank President Obama for his personal attention to the state in the wake of Hurricane Sandy. I

mean, really, how dare the governor have good manners? Then there’s the fiscal cliff, a handily dramatic term, that looms at year’s end if Congress and the White House can’t reach a compromise on spending cuts and increasing revenue. If we go over the cliff, your taxes will increase and spending cuts will be applied across the board. You may recall that the last time we went through this drill, America’s credit rating was downgraded not because we went over the cliff (we didn’t), but because the rating agencies basically viewed Capitol Hill as a bunch of kindergartners arguing over who gets the last Skittle. Washington always blesses us, though, with a surefire way to put these troubles aside, and sure enough, here is just what we needed: a sex scandal. This one looks as though it could become the best ever, too. First of all, a married general is having an affair with his biographer. Let’s set aside morals for just a few seconds. Is this not a conflict of interest for the biographer? Any journalist would say so. And does the general not risk having his manhood, so to speak, brought to light? And the general, David Petraeus, was head of the CIA, which as most people know has to do with spying and, equally important, keeping others from spying on you. So then, how is it that our chief spy, our head sleuth, did not know that cyberspace leaves its virtual fingerprints everywhere? The biographer, Paula Broadwell, was not the only other woman, though. There may have been another other woman, or at least Broadwell thought so, which is how this whole thing started to unravel. And there’s another general in the mix, it appears, so who knows where it will all lead? Let’s hope not over a cliff. Aside from the certainty that your taxes will go up if we do, in fact, cast ourselves off the fiscal cliff, there is a good bit of


agreement out there that the country will also cast itself back into recession. If we were voting next November, instead of this last month, the Republicans would justify shipwrecking the country in order to unseat a Democratic president. But we did vote last month. Now it’s time to play nice.

difference after Sandy whether your local or state government paid attention to infrastructure and, as a result, was better prepared for disasters such as this one. In some instances, that wasn’t the case. Infrastructure—electricity, gas, water, sewage, phone connectivity, the stuff you generally take for granted—isn’t sexy,

Our nation's most revered president is spinning in his grave, and the ol' boy can't even get a Twinkie

Georgia. Across the country, farmers have suffered huge losses in other crops thanks to the widest-spread drought in decades. But peanuts are in abundance, so when you have to sacrifice that filet mignon or baked salmon for a PB&J sandwich, well, by golly, you’re saving money on two counts. You might want to use it for tickets to the NAIA Football National Championship at Barron Stadium on Dec. 13. It could be your next-to-last chance. The financial windfall that Rome hotels, restaurants and shops first reaped in 2008 could be going away because the NAIA would like its showpiece played in a town with an NAIAaffiliated college, and Shorter University, the only local college currently with a football team, is in a sort of probationary period to move up to the NCAA. Still, Rome could be in the running to keep the game in 2014 and 2015. The unfavorable part is, however, that the committee which bid for the game didn’t ask the NAIA for recompense if it sought to get out of its contract. The bigger concern at the time was just landing the game. And finally, we should take a moment to reflect on endurable foods, especially in a still-sluggish economy. Hostess Inc., maker of Twinkies, Ho-Ho’s, Wonder Bread, et cetera., is closing shop—or maybe not. I guess we had to have something to fill the post-election discussion mill, but this story has been a little ridiculous. Someone brought it up the other day, and I said if Hostess and its union employees can’t settle it all, somebody will buy the company quickly. The brand is there, the infrastructure is there, there are trained employees who need a job, and God knows the inventory is there. But if worse comes to worst, we in the South are secure. We’ll always have Moon Pies. VVV

Honest Abe Could Use A Moon Pie I predict we will, even before Christmas, but not without a lot of pontificating and politicians getting every inch of personal advantage to secure their own political careers. And if you voters don’t like it, there’s a secessionist movement waiting for you in Texas.

i

Steele's Biz Bits

happen to have a number of friends living in New Jersey, and one from Rome who was stranded in New York, who were affected by Hurricane Sandy. They’re all somewhat back to normal daily life now, but the recurring theme in the emails I received from them was the importance of infrastructure—as in, it made a huge

but we’d all be better served if we paid attention to it and held officials, elected or appointed, accountable. I, for one, would rather see a newspaper photo of an elected official with a shovel in his hands, digging a trench for a sewage line, than holding a shovel for the groundbreaking of a new shopping center. An interesting tidbit came from a friend just after the November election: Since 1928, the Republican Party has not won the White House without a Nixon or a Bush on the ticket. It sounds a little tricky, but think about it. The key phrase is “on the ticket.” Bad news, as reported before, is that your grocery prices are going to keep going up. But there’s good news: Peanut butter prices are about to fall from sea to shining sea, thanks to a bumper crop in South

J. Bryant Steele is an awardwinning business journalist and feature writer based in Rome. vini vidi vici / v3 magazine

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personal jesus

(above) giovanni burrini circa 1590


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ocal art collector and philanthropist, Layton Roberts, is making it his personal mission to reach others via one of his favorite pastimes. “Artwork should be shared and appreciated by as many people as possible,” says Roberts, who will sending off his personal collection, entitled The Faces of Christ, to various churches and community centers. Why? The answer will paint its own picture of the Etowah Employment president/CEO. Roberts has arranged a traveling exhibition of the 12 masterpieces to share with fellow art lovers who might not otherwise have the opportunity to see art of this caliber firsthand. One of Roberts’ own favorites, Adoration of the Shepherds by Gerrit van Honthorst, will travel with the other paintings as they embark on an east coast tour, traveling as far as St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Dartmouth, Mass. Auction giant Christie’s explains the Dutch artist’s depiction of the Nativity best: “Honthorst uses the light to accentuate the salient gestures and facial expressions of the stationary figures, thus placing considerable emphasis on the quiet, human interplay between them. The main focus is on the tender love and maternal pride elicited by the Virgin, who unveils her newborn child to the admiring visitors.” Other artists featured in The Faces of Christ include Italian Baroque-period artists Guido Reni and Carlo Dolci, as well as Dutch artist Jan Lievens, who collaborated with Rembrandt van Rijn. “For me, it’s very personal,” Roberts explains. “Faith expresses itself in words and in pictures, and words will always evoke pictures in the mind before the painter ever depicts what is seen.” One of the primary reasons Roberts started his cherished collection was because of a personal fascination with the many different depictions of Jesus Christ created over the last 600 years. For Roberts, a look at the varying portrayals of Christ in these pieces can tell us a lot about the Christian faith, as well as the nature of man. Local art enthusiasts can glimpse The Faces of Christ when Roberts’ collection appears at the Rome Area History Museum early next year. “I hope that when these works of art are displayed…people will enjoy them for their beauty, the understanding of history, and maybe even the pondering of their faith.” VVV

text by luke chaffin photos by derek bell

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gerrit van honthorst 1622

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guido reini 17th century vini vidi vici / v3 magazine

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Trends& Traditions

a

w i t h H o l l y Ly n c h

commentary on the demise of everyday, common civility is no new concept, I admit. Nonetheless, it is unfortunate that the need for such a message is timeless. Recently, I have been witness to—and the victim of—behavior that can only be described as disrespectful, condescending, and downright mean. And that makes me sad. So I thought that during this time of holiday cheer, I’d scribe a gentle little reminder that you attract more bees with honey. All you need to do is repeat the following mantra to yourself time and time again: Be patient. Remain calm. Play nicely. Help each other. In my business, remaining calm is often the most important skill one can possess. And it’s certainly been put to the test lately, with communication challenges, minicrises, and sometimes overzealous bridesmaids. Couple that with an economic crisis, tighten it further with an extremely tense election season, and it seems many of our neighbors’ temperaments have taken a major hit. Still, it doesn’t matter who you voted for, how much money is in your checkbook, or the number of crazy family members coming to your home for dinner this holiday, the principles of decent behavior simply do not change. So practice them as often as possible. Watching a recent colleague suffer great frustration over her dealings with several vendors with whom he was working, I began taking note of what it was that he was saying to those vendors—i.e. his tone of voice, body language, the volume and rate of his speech. As I watched him, I also watched the people to whom he was speaking, who were there, ironically enough, to help him. You could quite literally see their expressions change from How can I help? to Please get me outta here!

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I is

How sad. Such an intelligent, articulate person was reduced to a screaming child because of an obvious communication problem rooted in his own lack of patience. I found myself running interference to make sure the job was done in spite of his negligence—and done well, mind you, without letting any vendors walk off the jobsite. Negativity is contagious, folks. In retrospect, what I really needed to tell this colleague was to calm down. Be patient. Play nice. Time to break out the honey. Seriously, are we so worked up that we can’t even be kind to those who are trying to help us? Have we become so selfish and lost in our own worlds that we have lost sight of the bigger picture here? In a season founded on giving thanks and exhibiting holiday cheer, let’s all take a minute to look at our colleagues, friends, family, even strangers as teammates on this journey. Everyone is just trying to do their best—most of the time. Call me naïve, but

do believe that every person facing their own challenges each and every day, celebrating their own victories, trying to live the best life possible with the cards they were dealt. Chill out, already. Before you start jumping up and down and throwing a hissy fit, take a moment, consider your teammate’s journey in tandem with your own. Recently, I was shopping at a newly remodeled grocery store on one of the craziest two days in American grocery shopping history. Walking in, I knew this would be a day for Gandhi-like patience. I planned for a two-hour trip, reiterating to myself beforehand that no matter what, I would remain calm and helpful. And so, I took a deep breath, grabbed a cart, and turned toward the produce. Immediately, I witnessed confusion and frustration on the faces of countless fellow shoppers. I heard rumblings of Grrmmphh. There’s tomatoes over here, tomatoes over there! This was going to be rough. As I rounded the aisles, doing my best to mark off each item on my own list, the frustration began to reach a boiling point. In the baking aisle, one customer


You Attract More Bees With Honey, Honey Bunch was about to come unglued. I decided to speak up. “Can I help you find what you’re looking for? It’s certainly chaos in here today, but we’re all in this together!” Instead of tossing a five-pound bag of flour across the store—which I honestly thought she was about to do—she looked at me in utter astonishment and laughed. Turns out she was looking for chopped dates. We found them together. It took me an extra few minutes in the store,

but when I saw her again a few aisles later, she was helping an elderly lady lift a bag of cat food into her cart. Kindness is contagious, folks. That day, I sincerely believe most folks were more upset because the store was changed than anything else. It’s also why my colleague was so irritable, because the suggestion of changing his original plan was too much to bear. Change is hard, but keeping things ex-

actly the same is just as scary. We’re all experiencing changes we don’t like these days – to our paychecks, our schedules, our dreams. But hey, we’re in this together, right? Whether you’re looking for a bag of chopped dates or a new job, remember these basic principles of civility and adopt them as a daily mantra: Be patient. Remain calm. Play nice. Help each other. More bees with honey. VVV

Holly Lynch is the managing coordinator/ owner of The Season Special Events Planning at 250 Broad Street in Rome.

Because holidays are meant to dazzle

312 Broad Street, Downtown Rome 706-291-8811 www.fgkjewelers.com

12 Months. 0% Interest. Ask for details. vini vidi vici / v3 magazine

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f

or several years, a beautiful Greek revival estate sat vacant on East Fourth Avenue in the historic Between the Rivers District of downtown Rome. When looking for a second home, Rome native and now part-time resident, Wes Walraven, kept coming back to the historic 1909 house built by Mary Lee Hight. After a lengthy search, Wes and his partner, Brian Moore, decided to buy the home in March 2011 from Dr. Paul Brock, whose family had owned it for over 50 years. “The history of the home, its downtown location, the large and well-proportioned rooms, and its right-out-of-Gone-With-the-Windfaçade sealed the deal,” says Walraven. Wes left the state after graduating from the University of Georgia in 1983. Over the next 28 years, he would return to Rome

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Rose Hill Hallelujah

Rome native Wes Walraven returns home in style with the purchase of_ a true,Between the Rivers classic­­ and just in time for the holidays twice per year to visit family, and though his base of operation would change many times—Chicago, New York, London, Hong Kong, Los Angeles—his hometown would forever remain the same. It helped that in Walraven’s absence, the quality of life in Rome had increased significantly. A revitalized downtown, the acquisition of several game-changing manufacturers now doing business in Rome-Floyd, and a boost in broader cultural influence had transformed the city from a hamlet treading water to a happening little enclave in the foothills of Appalachia. Wes and Brian, who work and reside fulltime in Manhattan, NYC, began to spend

even more of their time in Rome than they had originally intended. The two have become well known for their hosting prowess, hands-on involvement in local causes, and their beautiful, recently renamed project, Rose Hill. The present house was constructed on the site of an 1850’s Gothic revival home, also named Rose Hill, owned by pro-Confederacy columnist Charles Henry Smith. Otherwise known as Bill Arp, the writer named the residence for the beautiful gardens that surrounded it. Smith is perhaps best known for his famous letter to “Mr. Linkin”, a satirical essay penned in response to the Emancipation Proclamation. After Rome fell to Union Army forces in


Text by Luke Chaffin P hotos by Derek Bell

May 1864, Rose Hill became a luxurious host site for occupation and served as a base for officers to plan their march to Savannah. The famous photo of Union officers in Rome sitting around a dining table under an oak tree at Rose Hill was taken in the front yard. It is unclear whether the East Fourth Avenue estate was set ablaze when Union soldiers abandoned Rome, or if it was subsequently destroyed in the years following the Civil War. For the first Christmas to be spent at their new Southern home, Wes enlisted the help of Traditions of Rome owner Rudy Childs to help ring in Rose Hill’s Walraven era. Rudy and his crew had their work cut out for them, Childs

says, but they were certainly up for the challenge. “I’m used to turning out a bunch of houses during the season, but not homes of this magnitude. The rooms at Rose Hill are larger and the ceilings are higher than most, so we had to make sure that along with color coordination in each room, the Christmas trees and other décor weren’t dwarfed by their surroundings.” Last year, a whopping 100 poinsettias were purchased for Rose Hill in contribution to the Junior Service League’s annual

holiday fundraiser. The home’s interior was adorned with four large Christmas trees, as well, each designed to fit seamlessly into its respective theme-room. Rudy also wrapped the banisters of the main stair with silk-andmagnolia as something of an homage to the irrefutably Old-South character still palpable here. Outside, sprawling cryptomeria trees were also lit for the season, beautifully framing the Rose Hill silhouette in winter twilight. With a penchant for entertaining, in December 2011 Walraven and Moore felt it was important to kick off the holidays in an extra-special way. In turn, they decided to throw a blowout holiday party in an effort to reconnect with old friends while meeting some new ones. “Celebrating Christmas in Rome reminds me of my childhood,” says

(left to right) co-host Brian Moore, family friend/ greeter extraordinaire Barbie Horner, co-host Wes Walraven, and party planner Truett Griffin

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(left) a delectable holiday dessert assortment, courtesy of Honeymoon Bakery and Hana's Bakery; (bottom center) 2011 christmas bash co-hosts Hal & Mimi Richards; (below) local jazz outfit Pollard Greens keeps the dance floor in full swing, serving as the night's headlining entertainment

Walraven. “I treasure being able to spend time with friends and family during the holidays.” The party featured catering from La Scala Ristorante Italiano, complete with a carving station of roast beef, turkey and ham. Also on the menu: tuna tartar in miso cones, sherried pumpkin bisque, miniature grilledcheese triangles with gruyere and pear, lamb chops with mint jelly, and much more. The elaborate soiree was planned and executed by Truett Griffin of Los Angelesbased Tru Celebrations, a personal friend of Wes and Brian, and cohosted by Rome-based friends Mimi and Hal Richards. Mimi, a real estate agent with Toles, Temple & Wright, assisted Wes and Brian with the purchase of the home. Large floral arrangements and their complementary Christmas trees became the centerpieces of Rose Hill’s formal rooms. Truett worked alongside Mark Brewer of Ransom Florist to get the feeling just right for each. After meeting the party’s hosts, guests were also greeted by creamrose schemes, lilies, evergreen ferns and magnolias in the foyer, perfectly matching the banister garlands. The library was

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bathed in shades of red, green and gold, as well as red roses and red berries, setting off the beautiful, mahogany in-laid bookcases and dark red, damask wall coverings. In the gold-laden parlor, a centerpiece arrange-

ment was filled with dozens of white roses, accented by glass ornaments of gold and royal purple, then fitted with gold sprigs. According to master planner Griffin, “Perhaps the most impressive room was the formal dining room. It had a much more whimsical feel, as it was the showcase of an elaborate dessert presentation.” True, the 14-foot dining room table played host to a delectable assortment of Christmastime sweets, while featuring a fairly traditional floral arrangement of whites, reds, and evergreen sprigs. Added was a finishing touch of glass ornaments representing the iconic shapes of Christmas pop culture—bows, peppermints, et al—even a giant gingerbread house, courtesy of Honeymoon Bakery. The party didn’t stop with delicious cuisine and exquisite, eye-catching embellishments, either. The event also featured live music performances throughout the home, including, most cleverly, a small band of Berry College students dressed as Dickensera carolers on the large, white-columned porch who greeted guests as they entered the home. Enchanting partygoers as they mingled before exploring the second floor, a cellist, violist and flautist played in the

Text continued on pg. 50; More pics,pgs. 35-40 >>>


"We love to entertain in scale_something that is very hard to do in New York. This house provides the perfect setting for us to support causes we care about..." vini vidi vici / v3 magazine

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"The people of Rome warmed my heart. And for that reason, this was truly one of the most special Christmas parties I have planned in my 30-plus years of designing and coordinating holiday events." 36

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"Celebrating Christmas in Rome always reminds me of my childhood. I treasure being able to spend time with friends and family over the holidays." vini vidi vici / v3 magazine

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"Our holiday party was a great way for me to meet many romans for the first time. I have never lived in a place where the people are so nice." 40

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P

arked outside Mount Berry Square Mall, lazily watching shoppers file in and out of the Food Court entrance, I found myself dreadfully aware that I was about to interview Santa Claus. Up ’til now, the plan had been to simply march in, have a quick pow-wow with Ol’ St. Nick, tell him that I had been a good boy all year, smile for the camera, then sit back and wait for the big payoff on the twenty-fifth. As if I were still 9 years old, I had even prepared a list of questions for the jolly old elf, whose belly would no doubt shake like a bowl full of jelly when prompted. At the behest of V3, I had been assigned the task of unmasking the man who has been playing Santa hereabouts for 30-plus years, in hopes of finding out what sort

Robb Report2.0

with RobbRaymondIII

in a pillow-stuffed shirt? I swallowed hard and began to wonder if he would even bother to stay in character. Thankfully, I knew the beard wasn’t a prop, thus it couldn’t be stripped away to reveal some haggard, whisky-breathed, Billy Bob Thornton-esque incarnation of the North Pole’s top namesake. But, even so, if I were to successfully find an angle into the secretive, non-fictional life of the Real Mr.

Santa’s slide and claws his way back to the top. “No, no. I want an official, Red Rider, carbine-action, 200-shot, range-model air rifle!” he rattles off at long last. “You’ll shoot your eye out kid,” Santa scorns, followed by an eerie, “Ho! Ho! Ho!” as he plummets Ralphie back down the slide with a single toe-tap of his faux-leather boot.

Claus, what sort of questions was I to ask? So, Santa, getting down to brass tacks: If Congress fails to reach a compromise with regard to the “Fiscal Cliff” deadline Dec. 31, how do you project it will impact your profit margin come this time next year? Could stock values at Claus Inc. barrel over the so-called “cliff” alongside government efficacy if a deal isn’t made? Chuckling to myself as I entered the Food Court, the movie A Christmas Story sprang to mind—you know that scene in which Ralphie, the lead character, in a flash of revelation, halts his swift descent down

Unlike the images conjured by my more cynical side, however, the man who shook my hand and introduced himself as Santa Claus instantly took me back some 25 years, to a time when lack of faith was a non-issue. I sat across from the man in quiet disbelief, to be honest, feeling somewhat at a loss. Where to begin? In that initial moment, as I admired his full-grown, bushy, shock-white beard, the memory of an old family Polaroid snuck up on me. I was suddenly reminded of the precise moment that I began to take special notice of Santa’s beard. Nervously, I had prepared for (what I

Won't the Real Santa Please Stand Up?

of character would be so committed to spreading Christmas cheer that he would don a ZZ Top-style, blindingly white beard for more than three decades. Yet, as I sat in my car prepping for the interview, I rather abruptly came to two conclusions: One, I was no longer 9 years old. Two, I had put very little stock into the viability of questioning a man who might well talk the talk, so to speak, but not walk the walk. I mean, how could I possibly write a Christmas story based on an interview with a man who, in all likelihood, would be clad

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considered to be) the single most important conversation of my year. An antsy boy, I moved closer and closer to the front of the line, my eagerness slowly becoming unbearable. This was it. My one and only shot at getting the job done right, and the only way to get something done right was/ is to do it yourself. No middlemen. No lost letters. Just the Big Guy and me, mano-amano. Straddling his red-velvet knee, the moment of truth had finally arrived. I remember instantly becoming confused and troubled. I couldn’t see his lips when he asked me if I had been a good little boy. I squirmed a little, so as to get a better look

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at his big, white mug, and that’s when a bucket full of icy-cold reality hit me: Santa is a complete fraud. How offended I felt, now aware that I had been hoodwinked since birth by an entire network of adults complicit in the scheme. A precocious but calculated child, I carried on as though unaffected until the charade was finished, never letting on that I was privy to their clever ruse. Oh, I had been a good boy all right. And like a good boy, I sweetly—and expertly—recited all that I still wished for that Christmas. I even flashed a charming smile for the impatient elf-boy who’d been designated camera duty.

But all of my childish, materialistic motives with regard to Santa had vanished, and I was suddenly overcome with an irrepressible desire to expose this holiday hoax to the children of the world—or at least to the few in line behind me. “Presents be damned!” I shouted in my mind, dismounting the jolly old scoundrel’s knee. I then, rather brazenly, plunged my hand deep inside his acrylic, white farce of a beard, clutching a fistful of his made-in-China whiskers, then yanked with all my might. Surely this would end in Scooby-Doo-like accord, with Santa being led away in handcuffs while muttering, And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling kid! Instead, I was quietly ushered away by bouncer elves, encouraged to collect my crummy Polaroid and leave.

B

ack at Mount Berry Square Mall, still mulling over my big 2012 interview with Rome’s “real” Santa, I had no idea what to expect. But when I finally

Continued on pg. 53 >>>


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>>> Cont. from 40, “Rose Hill Hallelujah” tent draped in white satin. This cozily heated tent, with its intricate chandelier and festive décor, also housed additional guest seating, as well as catering and cocktails. Here, guests were given their pick of holiday favorites including eggnog, punch, coffee, liqueurs, and mulled cider. Nearby, a smaller tent with a double-bar offered partygoers yet another place to relax in luxury, much to the delight of the party’s nearly 250 attendees. Following the event, Truett Griffin returned to Los Angeles with far more than a fun memory and personal sense of accomplishment. “The people of Rome warmed my heart. And for that reason, this was truly one of the most special Christmas parties I have ever planned in my 30-plus years of designing and coordinating holiday events. I came back to Tinsel Town filled with the

(from left) Brian Moore and Barbie Horner greet guests Jon & Sarah Molnar as they enter Rose Hill's 2011 Christmas Bash gallery, opposite the home’s largest Christmas tree. Adorning the large window above the front doors, this tree was dressed entirely in gorgeous, Radko and Jay Strongwater ornaments. Adjacent to the pool area and conservatory, local jazz ensemble Pollard Greens performed a set-list rife with reimagined holiday classics beneath a party

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Christmas spirit.” Chicago-native Brian Moore also gave a glowing review of his first Christmas south of the Mason-Dixon, saluting the citizens of Rome in particular. “Our holiday party was a perfect way for me to meet many Romans for the first time. I have never lived in a place where the people are so nice.” Christmas returns to Rose Hill again this year, with a few modifications to account for projects completed in the last 12 months. A full renovation of the home continues, as will the many parties to follow. Having had only three owners in her 103year history, Rose Hill’s guests, passersby and, of course, her dedicated residents all understand and appreciate the property’s timeless allure. Wes Walraven and Brian Moore have committed themselves to carrying on the tradition of opening this historic, Between the Rivers home to the community for social and philanthropic events, as did the Brock family before them. “We love to entertain in scale,” says Walraven, “something that is very hard to do in New York. This house provides the perfect setting for us to support causes we care about in the community, and to host friends both new and old.” VVV


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>>> Cont. from 46, “Won't the Real Santa...” made my way past the Food Court and around to Santa’s Village, I found a man worthy of his “character’s” icon status. Charming as could be, he removed his furlined, crisp-white gloves to shake my hand, then smiled in quiet anticipation of my first question. And so, our conversation began, lasting the better part of an hour. The more I probed into his true-life experiences, the less certain I became. Who was this man? Who was he really? I probed on, fully expecting the guy to break character before our time was up. There would be some amazingly hilarious rant about screaming brats, irritable moms on the brink of nervous breakdown, entitled elves with terrible work ethic—I was sure of it. But when I asked him directly about the difficulties a Santa must endure over the course of a Christmas season, Claus took a pensive breath, then said, “Robb, the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced was the moment after a little boy, no older than 8 or 9, told me that all he wanted for Christmas was for me to bring his mommy home from jail.”

Wow. With a single sentence, the Real Santa had stoked a personal revelation. In an instant, I became embarrassingly mindful of my own egocentric expectations of him—who he was supposed to be, the farce undergirding the man. I had completely sidestepped the notion of a character being used by this deeply considerate, highly dedicated guy for the sake of bringing a single moment of sheer joy and hopefulness—if only just a single moment—each year to all the little children who were in such desperate need of it. Sensing melancholy in the room, Santa, being the instinctive giver of joy that he is, recalled for me a lighter-hearted memory involving an adopted little girl from the former Yugoslavia. “She was horrified that her name might be on my Naughty List,” he chuckled. “You see, growing up in her village, she was told that while good boys and girls get presents, bad little boys and girls get their fingers bitten off by Santa.” She wasn’t on the Naughty List, of course. All her fingers would remain in their rightful place. I laughed so loudly that my own belly

shook as if full of jelly, envisioning a B-rate horror flick in which a dirty, zombie-faced Santa with razor-sharp teeth eats fingers in lieu of sugar cookies. I could only imagine how good Claus must’ve felt, evaporating that poor child’s nightmarish fears. And for the first time in my life, I realized that being Santa Claus is a big deal—an important deal—and one that brings with it a whole lot more than the luxury of never having to buy those wildly overpriced Gillette refills. It’s about being the embodiment of hope and joy; it’s about selflessly offering a knee, and sometimes an ear, to someone who truly cares. And the Mount Berry St. Nick is surely both of these things. The proof is in three decades of fig pudding. When I had arrived for my interview, I had seated myself across from a bearded stranger in a red suit. But by the time it was over, I was certain beyond any shadow of a doubt that I had met no charlatan that afternoon. When I said goodbye to that sincerely jolly, 100-percent-real-bearded fellow, thanking him for his time, I was shaking hands with Santa Claus. VVV

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