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House of Beauty Arts & Letters Features

House of Beauty: Why the Greek Revival Style Became a Hit During 19th-Century America

In this series, master woodworker Brent Hull will introduce readers to the different architectural styles that were popularized throughout American history, explaining their significance and unique design features.

No architectural style has captured the imagination of an American era like Greek Revival. Lasting from 1820 to 1860, it was more than just a style; it was an ideal that expressed itself in the architecture of our young nation and as an ideological assurance that the democracy could and would survive. We forget that 200 years ago, the concept of a democratic rule, by the people and for the people, was a radical model and still an experiment. The American Revolution, and our breaking from European molds of government, was itself revolutionary. The popularity of the Greek Revival style coincided with the rise of America into a nation. This is a style that projects permanence and strength, traits our young country desired.

Front page of “The Antiquities of Athens” by James Stuart and Nicholas Revett, 1762. (Public Domain)

The Greek Revival style is most identifiable by its temple front, which is inspired by the Parthenon in Greece. This famous temple sits on the Acropolis in Athens—the tall rock formation that stands proudly over the city and was a place of worship to Athena, patron goddess of Athens. The Parthenon has been studied and revered for centuries because of its mathematical purity and design integrity. Though the Greek Revival era in America lasted from 1820 to 1860, the interest in Greek culture had been developing for some time in Europe. By 1750 in England, the ancient Roman world had been studied and extensively explored. It had been almost two centuries since Andrea Palladio, 16th-century Italian architect, wrote “I quattro libri dell’architettura” (“The Four Books of Architecture”) in 1570. This book was on the shelves of many prominent builders and architects and became the blueprint for design and construction based upon the classical characteristics.

Interestingly, Palladio had only ever studied ancient Rome. By 1750, it was well known that Greece had been the key influence on Roman architecture. The Romans had appropriated and adopted the ideas that the Greeks had perfected. Greece and ancient Greek culture were hidden and veiled by the Ottoman Turkish Empire (mid 15th century to early 19th century), which refused to let travelers into the country for fear of spying.

The ruins of a Greek temple at Paestum, Italy. (Antonio Sessa / Unsplash)

Travel to Greece in the 18th century was dangerous; thus, a secret mission was hatched by a spirited group of thinkers. Two Englishmen by the names of James Stuart (archaeologist, architect, and artist) and Nicholas Revett (architect) traveled to Athens in 1751, funded and organized by the Society of Dilettanti of London. Disguised as native Turks, they secretly drew and chronicled the ancient Greek ruins, making accurate measurements of the Acropolis of Athens and the Parthenon. This mission resulted in the seminal book, “The Antiquities of Athens,” which was written in three volumes over a 40-year period. After these discoveries were published in 1758, the work became a source book on ancient Greek architecture.

“The Antiquities of Athens” spurred great interest and encouraged architects to build in new forms and with fresh inspiration. The book highlighted how Greek designs were different from Roman temples and buildings. For instance, Greek architects did not use arches in their designs; the arch was a Roman improvement. Greek temples like the Parthenon were beautiful and admired for their near-mathematical perfection and symmetry. The proportions of the Parthenon match the proportions of the human body; the columns to beams have a proportional relationship much like the human form, where head to hand are proportional.

An engraving of the Greek temples at Paestum by Giovanni Battista Piranesi, 1778. (Public Domain)
“William Strickland” by John Neagle, circa 1829. Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven. (Public Domain)

The interest in Greek culture continued to grow through the late 18th and early 19th centuries. The rediscovery of the Greek temples at Paestum (550 to 450 B.C.) in southern Italy, during the 18th century, was a marvel. The presence of the three well-preserved Greek temples, in the region of Italy (present day Calabria), reinforced the idea of original Greek dominance of the world under Alexander (356–323 B.C.). This temple was made more popular in 1778 after the well-known engraver Giovanni Battista Piranesi drew the temple and prints became readily accessible to the public.

Americans’ interest in the Greek Revival style benefited from the War of 1812 between Britain and America. These battles soured the nation’s interest in British design and culture. Naturally looking for inspiration from more remote places, the story of Greece as an original democracy was contagious. In the early 1820s, the war for Greek independence from the Ottoman Turkish Empire began, and it reminded Americans of their fight for independence. The Greek war for independence was front-page news, and it became more compelling as Lord Byron, the famous English poet, died in 1824 from a fever contracted while training Greek troops after the First and Second Siege of Missolonghi.

How much did all this excite the imagination of the American people? Maybe we need to look no further than the naming of many of our towns and cities from this period. Athens, Georgia, the college town famous for the Georgia Bulldogs, was given the name Athens in honor of Plato and Aristotle’s school of thought. The actual number of towns named after Greek cities and citizens is profound. Consider these names: Sparta, Athens, Ithaca, Syracuse, Alexandria, Akron, and Atlanta, from the Greek god Atlas. It is clear Greek culture and thinking inspired not just architecture but how Americans thought of themselves as a people.

A hand-drawn capital of the Doric order. (Marina Gorskaya/Adobestock)

Greek Revival architecture today is readily identifiable by several key attributes: a temple front, large Doric columns with no bases, and simple and bold stone-like ornamentation with a triangular pediment. The Second Bank of the United States, Philadelphia, is a wonderful example of the Greek Revival style. Now part of Independence Park in Philadelphia, the bank was built between 1818 and 1824 by William Strickland, noted Philadelphia architect and civil engineer. With strong fluted Doric columns that sit directly on the raised stylobate (raised platform), the Second Bank of the United States was clearly inspired by the Parthenon in Greece. The bank’s eight columns have no base, which is a unique style of ancient Greek detail. The building’s presence is commanding and bold in character with its wide, thick columns crowned by the signature Greek triangular pediment and simple ornaments and moldings around doors and windows.

Strickland was a former student of Benjamin Latrobe, the man who is regarded as the first professionally trained American architect. Both Latrobe and Strickland were disciples of the Greek Revival style and were credited with having helped establish the Greek Revival movement in America. Some of Strickland’s most accomplished building designs were in this style. During the 19th century, the Greek Revival style extended itself into the construction of newer small towns, banks, courthouses, and other civic buildings looking to establish an air of permanence and significance.

The Acropolis of Athens, with the Parthenon atop. (Constantinos Kollias / Unsplash)
The mansion at Belle Meade Plantation in Tennessee.

Another prominent Strickland design was the Belle Meade plantation in Nashville, Tennessee. Formerly, the two-story plantation was built in the Federal style, but after William Giles Harding took over operations at Belle Meade in 1839, he employed Strickland to construct a two-story, 24-by-55-foot addition to the home. In keeping with the Greek Revival style, the new home was “bold in silhouette, broad in proportions, and simplified in detail,” with its six limestone, Doric pillars supporting the front porch and pedimented attic.

The Greek Revival era ended when the Civil War began in the 1860s. After the war, this style was forgotten and replaced by the decorative frills of the industrialized Victorian architecture. The style is still revered today for its simple, honest character and charm. These historic buildings with strong stoic porches still remind us of a simpler time when America, as a young nation, hoped to grow and prosper.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

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Arts & Letters Features

How Alva Vanderbilt’s Sumptuous Chateau Set the Bar for High Society Homes on Fifth Avenue, New York City

In 1843, young Richard Morris Hunt and family traveled from America to Europe, where he gained his formal education. Initially, Hunt pursued training in art, but at the encouragement of his family, he took up architecture. Hunt studied under Geneva architect Samuel Darier and later joined the Paris studio of architect Hector Lefuel. In Paris, he studied for the entrance examinations of the École des Beaux-Arts and became the first American to be admitted to the prestigious school. In 1853, Hector Lefuel hired Hunt to help complete expansions to the famous art museum: the Nouveau Louvre. Although he worked in a primarily supervisory role, Hunt collaborated in the design of the Pavillon de la Bibliothèque. Thus, early in his career, he had the opportunity to work on a significant public project. Hunt returned to America in 1856 and took a position with architect Thomas Ustick Walter, who was working on the renovation and expansion of the U.S. Capitol. A year later, Hunt struck out on his own and moved to New York.

A half- length portrait of Richard Morris Hunt seated at a desk, 1894. (Library of Congress / Public Domain)
The design for the supper room at 660 Fifth Avenue, New York City, by Richard Morris Hunt, circa 1880. Watercolor and graphite on cardboard. (Public Domain)

His first major project in New York was the 10th Street Studio Building. Hunt would establish his own practice there, and start a school of architecture as well. After a time of professional setback, however, Hunt found himself to be an architect desperately in need of a patron. At that time, Alva Vanderbilt (wife of William K. Vanderbilt) desperately wanted to make her mark on New York society. High society at the time was dominated by the Astors, who considered the Vanderbilts newcomers to wealth, and as such “second rate.” The Vanderbilts were shunned socially by the “society of 400,” which referred to the circle of polite society recognized by Caroline Schermerhorn Astor (and supposedly the maximum number of people she could host in her ballroom). Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, however, refused to be denied her place in Gilded Age society. Alva, who loved French culture, and Hunt, with his Beaux-Arts background, collaborated to create a magical château amidst the brownstones of Fifth Avenue. Construction began in 1878 and was completed in 1882.

Lewis Mumford, American historian, described the years following the Civil War as a “buried Renaissance” and referred to that historic period as “The Brown Decades.”

The Civil War shook down the blossoms and blasted the promise of spring. The colours of American civilization abruptly changed. By the time the war was over, browns had spread everywhere: mediocre drabs, dingy chocolate browns, sooty browns that merged into black. Autumn had come.

The design for a bay window by Richard Morris Hunt, circa 1880. Graphite and ink on tracing paper. (Public Domain)

Even men of considerable means, such as J.P. Morgan, lived in unassuming homes. American novelist Edith Wharton described the city as “little, low studded rectangular New York with its universal chocolate-colored coating of the most hideous stone ever quarried,” lacking “towers, porticoes, fountains or perspectives.” Alva Vanderbilt, desiring a house that would lift her social standing, worked with Hunt to create a bit of French Neo-Renaissance whimsy in the midst of the staid brown buildings. Hunt began with a beautifully rendered building that was asymmetrical, with towers and turrets and architectural detail placed for aesthetic joy. Constructed at 660 Fifth Avenue, it was the first of many châteaux that would be built in the Gilded Age of New York.

The house would be a work of art, intricately carved. Hunt chose Indiana Limestone for the exterior walls—a stone that worked beautifully and when smoothly finished glowed in the sunlight. It required an army of skilled artisans to build. The firm of Ellin & Kitson employed 40 stonemasons in the project. The personable Hunt not only worked well with his high-strung clients, but it seems he developed quite a rapport with his artisans as well. A story is told that when Hunt came to the house for the final walk-through, he discovered a large tent in one of the ballrooms. Inside, he found a life-sized statue of himself, dressed in stonecutter’s clothes. It had been carved in secret by the stonemasons as a tribute to the admired architect. William Vanderbilt had the statue placed upon the roof above the front door.

The salon inside 660 Fifth Avenue. (Public Domain)

In March 1883, Alva hosted a dress ball for 1,200 people that captured the public’s attention. The affair is said to have cost $3 million. From Fifth Avenue, guests would enter the 60-foot-long grand hall, walled with stone, and were entertained in the grand home’s formal rooms. Just off of the hall was the library with its French Renaissance paneling. There was the salon, designed and built in Paris by Jules Allard and featuring a secretary-style desk previously owned by Marie Antoinette. At the end of the grand hall was a Gothic 50-by-30-foot banquet room. Austrian sculptor Karl Bitter carved the mantle details for the room’s massive double fireplace. The house was a fitting showcase for Gilded Age opulence and excess, and of course it inspired the building of many more. Not to be outdone, Caroline Astor commissioned Hunt to build the J.J. Astor château at 34th Street and Fifth Avenue.

The great urban châteaux enjoyed but a fleeting moment in the sun. Had they been anywhere but New York, the great metropolis that continually reinvents itself, these magnificent houses might have found another life—perhaps as offices for charitable foundations. After New York recast itself as a hub of railroads, during the turn of the century, rising real estate values would doom them. In less than 50 years, the grand homes were torn down to allow greater density construction on their sites. Alva’s “Petit Château” was sold to a real estate developer in 1926 and demolished the next year. Though the beautiful buildings of Indiana Limestone may no longer be seen in New York, George Vanderbilt’s mansion, “Biltmore,” in Asheville, North Carolina, remains as a monument to the era.

The design for double fireplaces and their overmantels by Richard Morris Hunt, circa 1880. Watercolor and graphite. (Public Domain)

Richard Morris Hunt became a member of influential society with his distinguished career in design. He went on to design great public buildings that are still erect today, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the pedestal for the Statue of Liberty, and the New York Tribune Building. Later in his life, Hunt designed the Administration Building for the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago. In this great collaboration with Frederick Law Olmstead, he gave America the richness of Beaux-Arts design. Today, the site of Alva’s château is occupied by a 39-story building constructed in 1957. Extensive renovations in 2022 will create a bright commercial and office space with 11-by-19-foot, single-pane glass windows. The architecture of New York has continued its reinventions through the decades.

Bob Kirchman is an architectural illustrator who lives in Augusta County, Virginia, with his wife Pam. He teaches studio art to students in the Augusta Christian Educators Homeschool Co-op.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

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Arts & Letters Features

The Apotheosis of Washington: Deciphering the Symbols of Our Nation Hidden Within the Capitol Building’s Dome

The U.S. Capitol Rotunda is one of the most iconic spaces in the nation. High above its well-trod floors, the dome features a glorious fresco painting, replete with symbols of American democracy. Suspended 180 feet in the air, “The Apotheosis of Washington” is the master work of American artist Constantino Brumidi. The fresco was completed in 1865, commemorating the end of the Civil War. The painting depicts George Washington, flanked by female figures representing Liberty and Victory, ascending to the heavens. Appropriately, the term apotheosis means the glorification and deification of an individual, and Washington was just as revered in the 19th century as he is today.

Washington wears a presidential suit while he is draped in a purple fabric. Brumidi subtly connected the president to Roman generals, who wore purple cloaks when they returned victorious from battle. The rainbow arch at Washington’s feet is also a Classical symbol of peace and victory. Liberty wears a Phrygian cap, an ancient Roman symbol of freedom. Throughout the fresco, the artist meticulously created an intricate iconographical scheme connecting the United States to the immortal values of freedom and democracy through ancient Greek and Roman aesthetics.

“The Apotheosis of Washington” by Constantino Brumidi, 1865. Fresco. (Architect of the Capitol)

The artist, Constantino Brumidi, was an apt choice of painter: He was an immigrant of both Greek and Italian descent, and he served as a cultural conduit between the antique cradle of democracy and the New World. A master of the classical style of painting, Brumidi helped bring this important symbolism to the United States. Well-versed in Italian Renaissance art, he also modeled many of his figures on examples created by Raphael centuries prior.

The artist masterfully connected Washington and American values to these timeless visual motifs. The significance of “The Apotheosis of Washington,” despite its title, extends well beyond the esteemed first president—it exalts values that are significant to the United States and to the American way of life. The six scenes that complete the fresco are Freedom (War), Science, Marine, Commerce, Mechanics, and Agriculture, which are detailed below. The fresco also pays homage to the country’s origins and history: Thirteen young women, each with a star atop her head, encircle Washington, Liberty, and Victory. Notably, several figures turn their backs to Washington, symbolizing the states that seceded from the union. Two figures brandish a banner that reads “E Pluribus Unum” (meaning “out of many, one”), which is the motto of the United States. The motto appears on the Great Seal and has appeared on U.S. currency since 1795.

Constantino Brumidi, the artist who painted the murals and frescoes in the U.S. Capitol building. (Public Domain)

Freedom

Lining the perimeter of the fresco are the six aforementioned concepts, represented allegorically. Freedom is featured directly below Washington, reminding viewers of his role in securing the nation’s independence. Freedom is portrayed as a woman, specifically Columbia, who is the female personification of the United States (hence the capital, District of Columbia). Columbia wields a sword and a red, white, and blue shield as she vanquishes tyranny and kingly rule (symbolized by the red mantle famously donned by monarchs and emperors). A bald eagle carrying arrows and thunderbolts assists Freedom in her triumph.

Detail of “War,” with an armed figure representing Freedom. (Architect of the Capitol)

Science

Science is symbolized by Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom. A profound deity, she also represents crafts, the arts, technology, and inspiration. In this scene, she is joined by several prominent American scientists and inventors, including Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Morse, and Robert Fulton. She gestures toward an electrical generator, and several children—the next generation of scientists—look on. Brumidi emphasized that innovation is an integral part of the American spirit.

Detail of “Science.” (Architect of the Capitol)

Marine

The next scene, Marine, celebrates the importance of maritime trade and the ocean itself. Neptune, Roman god of the sea, is identified by his trident and crown of seaweed. He rides a sea chariot, alluding to oceanic crossings. Venus, the Roman goddess of love who was born from the sea, holds and helps lay the transatlantic telegraph cables that were being laid at the time of the fresco’s completion. These cables revolutionized intercontinental communications between the United States and Europe.

Detail of “Marine.” (Architect of the Capitol)

Commerce

Marine gives way to the next scene: Commerce. Brumidi strategically placed these two scenes side-by-side as they are inextricably linked. Mercury symbolizes commerce, and he wears his iconic winged petasus (brimmed hat) and shoes and carries his caduceus. The caduceus represents trade, negotiations, and communications—all necessary tenets of commerce. On the right, the anchor and sailors lead into Marine, highlighting the growing importance of international trade as part of American commerce.

Detail of “Commerce.” (Architect of the Capitol)

Mechanics

Vulcan, Roman god of fire, the forge, and smithery, presides over the scene Mechanics. He holds a blacksmith’s hammer and stands at an anvil; his right foot rests upon a cannon situated near a pile of cannonballs. Behind Vulcan, there is a steam engine—one of the most significant mechanical innovations of the 18th century, which was indispensable to life and industry in the 19th century. Brumidi again created thoughtful continuity, as mechanics—and with it, industry—is connected to commerce.

Detail of “Mechanics.” (Architect of the Capitol)

Agriculture

Lastly, Ceres, Roman goddess of agriculture, graces the scene of the same name, Agriculture. She holds a wreath of wheat (as she is also the goddess of grain crops) and a cornucopia, symbol of abundance. Ceres sits atop a McCormick mechanical reaper, connecting agriculture to mechanical innovation. A figure personifying Young America wears a liberty cap and holds the reins of the horses. Flora, Roman goddess of nature, flowers, and the springtime, picks flowers in the foreground. Her inclusion is a nod toward fecundity and renewed life.

This vibrant, intense, and complex composition establishes a profound connection between Classical aesthetics and the newly emerging American style. Brumidi created a reflective synthesis between the Classical and the American, an ingenious manifestation of the international Neoclassical style that is sometimes referred to as the Federal style in the United States. Notable examples of Neoclassical architecture in the United States include the White House and Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello estate. In American painting, ancient Greek and Roman motifs were reinterpreted for the dawning of a new era. American artists, philosophers, and political theorists revered the democratic values that flourished in antiquity and sought to emulate the artwork of the period as a way to affirm the visuals and ideals of American democracy.

Detail of “Agriculture.” (Architect of the Capitol)

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine. 

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Arts & Letters Features

The Ingenious Architects Whose Designs Inspired the Blueprint for Washington, D.C.

“The Capitol ought to be upon a scale far superior to anything in this Country.” —George Washington to Thomas Jefferson in 1792

James Hoban was born in 1762, in Callan, Ireland. As a boy, he was an apprentice to a carpenter and a wheelwright. He later trained in the neoclassical style of architecture at the Dublin Society School. Just after the Revolutionary War, Hoban immigrated to South Carolina. There, he designed the old state Capitol building in Columbia. At the suggestion of George Washington, Hoban entered the competition for the design of the President’s House in 1792. Not only did he win the design competition, but he received the commission to build the house as well.

The Capitol dome at dusk. (Architect of the Capitol)
The architectural design for the White House by Benjamin Henry Latrobe, 1807.(Public Domain)

The President’s House in America was inspired by Leinster House in Dublin, where the Irish Parliament meets, as well as by James Gibbs’s “Book of Architecture” (published in 1728). The presidential mansion would be constructed between 1793 and 1801. At the same time, James Hoban was also enlisted as one of the supervisors of the construction of the United States Capitol.

A drawing of the dome with elevation markers by Thomas U. Walter, 1859. Pen, ink, and watercolor. (Architect of the Capitol)
Cross section of the revised dome design for the Capitol building by Thomas U. Walter, 1859. Pen, ink, and watercolor. (Architect of the Capitol)
The design for the Corinthian columns by Thomas U. Walter, 1859. Pen, ink, and watercolor. (Architect of the Capitol)

The Capitol was the design of physician and amateur architect Dr. William Thornton. He won the design competition in 1793. The prize was $500 and a building lot in the new federal city. Thornton had been born in the British West Indies and studied medicine at the University of Aberdeen. He became a United States citizen in 1787, moved to Washington in 1794, and was later appointed head of the Patent Office by Thomas Jefferson.

The north wing of the Capitol was constructed first. The Capitol and the President’s House were both built of Aquia Creek sandstone, quarried near Stafford, Virginia. The government-owned quarry provided most of the stone for the early construction in Washington. Though the soft, porous rock was not ideal for constructing great public buildings, it was a wise and economical choice at the time. Rising above a pastoral landscape, the President’s House and the Capitol represented the promise of the new republic.

The original design for the “Washington Monument” by Robert Mills, 1846. (Public Domain)

On August 24, 1814, British troops marched into Washington and set fire to both the President’s House and the Capitol Building. Fortunately, Benjamin Henry Latrobe, who actually supervised the building of the Capitol, had specified fireproof materials inside. Though ravaged by fire, the structure remained—”

The “Peace Monument” was erected in 1878 by Franklin Simmons to commemorate naval deaths during the Civil War. The personification of Grief mourns on the shoulder of History, with Victory standing beneath. (dkfielding/iStock/Getty Images Plus 119)
An architectural stone design on the grounds of the Capitol, by landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted. (Architect of the Capitol)

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine. 

 

 

 

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How A Navy Veteran Is Overcoming Her Traumatic Brain Injury to Advocate for Fellow Vets

Amanda Burrill has practically lived several lifetimes in one. She has worked as a rescue swimmer in the Navy, as a model and actress, as a Cordon Bleu-trained chef, as a sports copy editor for the New York Post, as an on-air host for the Travel Channel, and as a sponsored triathlete and marathon runner. She is a mountaineer, now more than halfway toward her goal of climbing all the Seven Summits by spring 2023.

“I get all this credit for being this adventurous Renaissance woman,” Burrill, 42, said. “But I know the real story.” Through most of her endeavors, “there was a lack of intent,” she said. “It was surviving. But it was surviving in style.”

For many years, she skipped from one occupation to another to hide the symptoms of a traumatic brain injury. Just as she was about to lose her footing with one, she would gracefully pivot to another rather than stumble.

Before her traumatic brain injury diagnosis, Amanda Burrill continuously pivoted careers to hide her debilitating symptoms. (Nick Mele for American Essence)

She didn’t know she had a brain injury. She only knew that important cognitive functions were slipping away from her. She started finding it hard to read and process information. Her hand-eye coordination was off. Her feelings toward her husband suddenly changed.

“It would be bad enough to say, ‘I don’t love my husband anymore,’” said Burrill. “But to feel that and not understand why⁠—but have a very clear reason why—I felt horrible, and a lot of shame.” When she returned home from a deployment in July 2003, she divorced him, although she says that he was the one person who would have been “able to observe me and say something serious has changed.”

She didn’t connect her symptoms with her fall down the hatch of a prison ship in 2003. It was during her tour to Iraq, and no one was around to witness the fall; she was found lying unconscious on the deck afterward. Her doctors didn’t make the connection, either. The Veterans Affairs (VA) system eventually chalked up her symptoms to various conditions, including post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and fibromyalgia.

“Post-traumatic stress disorder was a convenient catch-all diagnosis to explain away all my symptoms,” Burrill said. Yet she didn’t feel deeply traumatized by her wartime experiences. And the medications they gave her didn’t improve her condition. So many of her symptoms couldn’t be explained by PTSD alone. “A lot of things were off here and there, mystery issues, and I couldn’t connect the dots,” she said.

Thirteen years passed before she discovered that traumatic brain injury was the root cause behind her ailments. Throughout those years, she hid her symptoms out of shame while she fought through the medical system to find doctors who would look for the physical cause and stop telling her she just had psychiatric problems.

Burrill tries hyperbaric oxygen therapy to alleviate her symptoms, in October 2020. (Nick Mele for American Essence)

“A big part of my brain injury story was people not listening to or believing me,” said Burrill, who feels more traumatized by her experiences in doctors’ offices than from the war.

Since 2016, when she was finally diagnosed, she has striven forward with healing, seeking cutting-edge treatments and putting great effort into her rehabilitation. During her outstanding recovery, “they were calling me ‘star pupil,’ an ‘amazing case,’” Burrill said. She has come far, but said “that doesn’t mean I feel all better.” As she continues her healing journey, she has become an advocate for veterans and others with traumatic brain injury.

In Hiding, Even From Herself

Between her brain injury in 2003 and the end of her military service in 2007, she didn’t talk about her symptoms much, even to doctors.

“I’d report things like bike crashes and digestion issues, but not the emotional duress. This was before you could have mental issues and stay in the military,” Burrill explained. “People were getting discharged⁠—other than honorable⁠—for having mental health issues.” It’s gotten better now, she says, but at the time, “I had to stay really mum about the emotional duress.

“I think I was even denying myself the ability to really process, like, ‘Hey, I’m struggling here.’ That wasn’t really allowed because of the way I was raised and then the military culture,” Burrill said. Her father, who was in the Navy, trained her to be strong and to be a star athlete. He guided her away from piano lessons and other pursuits of a softer nature. To admit she was ailing felt like weakness.

When Burrill found that she could no longer effectively complete nightly briefings as an intelligence officer, she tried to hide it by changing roles. Banking on what was left of her athleticism, she asked if she could undergo the notoriously grueling training for Navy rescue swimmers. Her command eventually agreed to it, and she passed.

Burrill had planned to go to law school when she finished her military service. She knew that was no longer possible due to the mysterious change that had come over her. Burrill identified her next career move using what she calls “the Venn diagram of my adult life: What am I good at and what am I interested in, and where do those things overlap?” Cooking was her first answer. Her mother, a Vietnamese refugee, was a caterer, and Burrill primarily learned about cooking from her.

Burrill studied at the eminent Le Cordon Bleu culinary arts institute in Los Angeles. Her success was again shadowed by mysterious shortcomings. “Why am I so bad at cutting things?” she asked herself. Her coordination and vision were affected by her brain injury. She nonetheless made it through and landed a coveted position in the test kitchen at the Los Angeles Times. That guided her next pivot, toward journalism.

Burrill with her class of graduates from rescue swimmer school, October 2003. (Nick Mele for American Essence)

Burrill felt it was only a matter of time before she could no longer overcome her limitations. So, she went to the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism and received a master’s degree. Focusing on sports and travel journalism allowed her to avoid research as much as possible and write from her own knowledge.

She was the first woman to get a job in editorial for the New York Post sports section. But she struggled with various aspects of the job, and it was even hard for her to figure out how to fill out her timesheets to get paid. “I always felt like I was at risk of being found out,” Burrill said.

Running has been a comfort and also a source of income along the way. She has completed over 25 marathons and triathlons, including two Ironman races. Prioritizing sports and fitness also landed her in the world of fitness modeling, and she appeared twice on the cover of Runner’s World magazine.

The mysterious illness that dimmed all her shining accomplishments hung thick over her athleticism, as well. “I had tried to continue being a marathoner and triathlete through all of this and it really came at great detriment to my body,” Burrill said. Her brain injury had caused issues with blood flow, nerve damage, and muscle wasting. She also believes the assortment of medications she was taking, most for conditions she didn’t have, may have affected the structural integrity of her body.

Burrill sustained many injuries, the worst of which was the collapse of her foot’s arch during the Chicago Marathon in 2015. “I was basically in a boot or cast or on crutches for 17 months,” she said. She had surgery that put a metal plate in her foot, which ended her running career.

In February this year, she had knee surgery—the most recent of some 20 surgeries she has had. Before her brain injury, she had always been fit and had little to no experience with medical care.

Burrill runs in the New York City Marathon, 2013. (Nick Mele for American Essence)

A Second Brain Injury

Several months before her Chicago Marathon injury, Burrill fell on the stairs in her apartment building in New York and hit her head on a marble wall. She visited a nurse practitioner at her local VA clinic. “He was just like, you know, ‘You got your bell rung,’” she said. It wasn’t treated as a big deal.

“My problems got progressively worse. It was like my old problems, but like these problems I had all along on steroids,” Burrill said. During a visit to the VA hospital, she discovered that each clinic has a social worker to help veterans with questions and various issues. “You don’t know these things when you can hardly read or look at a screen,” she added.

She walked right into the social worker’s office. He was the first person to suggest screening her for traumatic brain injury (TBI). The scope of TBI among veterans has become better understood over the years; the Defense and Veterans Brain Injury Center reported more than 400,000 TBIs among U.S. service members from 2000 to late 2019.

(Nick Mele for American Essence)

The screening led to further tests and, finally, in 2016, a diagnosis. Doctors pegged her 2003 fall—along with her more recent fall and potentially some tumbles on her bike—as having caused injury to her brain.

During the testing, she was found to be exceptionally high-functioning in many areas, but she was in the bottom 5 percent for six areas, including visual orientation and working memory.

Finding and addressing the root cause has helped remedy Burrill’s symptoms, which have included poor digestion, poor kidney function, and problems with her endocrine system. The brain affects so much in the body, and TBI affects each person differently, which has made diagnosis difficult, and many vets have been similarly misdiagnosed.

Reaching New Heights

Burrill describes some of the treatments that have helped her regain much of what she lost. “It sounds almost like kindergarten games. At CognitiveFX, in Utah, I would do things like stomp and keep a beat while I had a woman standing next to me, and she would pull out a card—let’s say it’s the letter R on the card—and I would have to say 10 words that start with the letter R.

“Basically, you’re multitasking in a way that drives blood to this area of the brain that isn’t getting enough blood. It’s not necessarily that the brain is broken there still; it may be healed, but it’s just that the blood has a comfortable path that it’s used to.”

The left occipital lobe, a part of her brain that was injured, affects vision. She got special glasses from The Mind-Eye Institute, near Chicago, that bend the light so it hits her retina in a different way and brings the information to a different part of her brain that isn’t damaged.

Burrill trains on Mount Rainier, Wash., March 2018. She hopes to climb the Seven Summits by spring 2023. (Courtesy of Naomi Schware)

In retrospect, Burrill said, her jumping from occupation to occupation also helped even before she knew she had a brain injury. “Brains love novelty,” she observes—working as a travel writer, for example. “Think about it. When you go to a new place, even just figuring out the way a new metro system works—that’s a brain workout.”

When Burrill was recovering from her major foot injury, “I was thinking about this metaphor, ‘If you can’t run, walk; if you can’t walk, crawl,’” she says. She couldn’t be a runner anymore, so she thought, “Why not walk?” She set her sights on hiking, though she had never been much of a hiker.

“I don’t like to do things small,” Burrill said. She thought, “How cool would it be if my first hike ever was to go to Tanzania and hike Kilimanjaro?” Africa’s highest peak, Mount Kilimanjaro is one of the world’s Seven Summits.

“I had a profound experience over the seven days I was climbing Kilimanjaro. I had no devices, no distractions. My job was to put one foot in front of the other, tolerate the cold, and just be present.”

She went on to Denali, another of the Seven Summits. Successfully self-guiding that mountain made her realize, “I’m not just good at this for a disabled person or ‘adaptive athlete,’ as I was being called; I’m good at this, period.”

She is set to finish all Seven Summits by spring 2023. Mount Everest, the highest, will be last. Even sitting with ice on her knee, still recovering from surgery, Burrill spoke confidently of the great climbs ahead.

“For a while, I was using mountaineering as outward proof that I was getting better,” she said. “I don’t need to do that anymore. I do this because I love it. I love going to a new place and doing something hard, and in the meantime, I have peace. It’s nature therapy.”

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

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Acclaimed Chef Steve McHugh on Overcoming Life’s Challenges to Find the True Spirit of Cooking

Five-time James Beard Foundation Award finalist Steve McHugh is nothing short of an acclaimed chef. The owner of the highly respected, game-changing restaurant Cured and the restaurant Landrace, which opened last year, says he really “stumbled right into” becoming a chef.

Though McHugh’s introduction to food may have been a happy accident, over the course of his studies and career as a chef, his curiosity and sense of excellence have produced inspiring results. In a way, his story has been about coming full circle and getting at the root of food and sustenance—and American cuisine.

“I’m not the star of this show,” said McHugh.

‘If You Want to Go Learn About Food’

New Orleans is where McHugh first made a name for himself. Right out of culinary school, a friend had told him, “If you want to go learn about food, you need to go where the true indigenous food of the U.S. is.”

“And that’s New Orleans,” said McHugh. There, he worked in the kitchens of the Brennan Family Restaurants, the Creole chefs Stanley Jackson and Chris Brown, and the John Besh Restaurant Group. Besh, a celebrity chef and philanthropist well known for his efforts in preserving New Orleans heritage cuisine, became a mentor of McHugh’s. In those kitchens, McHugh learned that it wasn’t just about Cajun and Creole—the city was truly a melting pot of cultures and cuisines influencing each other, coming together to make up the flavor of New Orleans.

A dish of mussels made with beer and Tasso ham.(Inti St. Clair)

And then Hurricane Katrina hit.

“Up until that moment, we had run from storms and we dealt with floods—but that one, that was scary,” McHugh said. He remembers watching the satellite images, seeing a storm the width of the Gulf of Mexico approaching his city. He and his wife had evacuated and were sitting in a crummy motel in Tennessee, just waiting. When it became evident that they couldn’t go back right away, McHugh went to his parents’ home in Wisconsin.

McHugh grew up with six brothers, three adopted, on a dairy farm in Wisconsin. His dad was a schoolteacher. His mom was a nurse, then an OB-GYN.

“They just had a lot of love to give, my parents. They’re just amazing, amazing people with so much love to give. My mom especially was one of those people who just gave, and gave, and gave of herself,” said McHugh. “My dad was the same way—it was all about taking care of people.”

Living in their small Wisconsin town of some 1,200 people, McHugh never thought he would become a chef. In high school, he got a job washing dishes and fell in love with the energy of the kitchen. That fondness led to many other kitchen jobs, but he didn’t think of them as part of a career path.

“When I was growing up in kitchens, what we call the chef was just some tattooed-up guy who rode his motorcycle in, and he was in charge,” McHugh said. He actually went to school majoring in music, with a saxophone scholarship, but then ended up back at home.

“It was my dad who finally sat me down and said, ‘Why don’t you go to culinary school?’” McHugh said. The conversation was eye-opening. “I’m still thankful for that sit-down with my dad, every single day, because it’s truly a blessing to continue to be in kitchens and restaurants and working with great people.” His dad also had a slightly selfish motivation for the talk, however: “I was back living at home,” McHugh quipped, “so part of it was, ‘How long do you think you’re gonna live here at home with your parents?’”

At McHugh’s restaurant, every part of the animal is used for the charcuterie- focused menu. (Inti St. Clair)

“I think he really wanted me to find my way.” And McHugh soon did, delving into The New York Times’ Wednesday food inserts and doing his own research. “I was just looking at recipes and interviews, and reading about different chefs throughout New York City, and was just blown away by what was really possible.”

Although he was back at home again after the storm, when McHugh got the call from Besh asking him to come back to New Orleans less than a month later, he was ready. “New Orleans had become my home, and you hate to see your home take a one-two punch like that,” said McHugh. “You want to be a part of helping her get up off the ground and get going again.”

Sustenance

Besh was reopening Restaurant August, and McHugh’s response was, “Yeah, let’s go.”

It would be under entirely different circumstances—here was a restaurant that was known for using prized ingredients, and now there wasn’t an abalone or truffle in sight.

As McHugh tells it, “John said, ‘Let’s just cook what we have. let’s just cook what we can get our hands on, and we’ll make up the menu.’” As a young chef, McHugh relished opportunities to work with some of the finest ingredients. “Now, you’re so excited when a farmer brings by 12 chickens, or you get your hands on some red beans and you’re able to cook a pot of beans,” he said. “These were things we never cooked in that restaurant before; and now, all of a sudden they’re the most important things we’ve ever cooked in our lives because our customers needed it.”

Yet McHugh felt it was sustainable in myriad ways: “It’s sustaining your soul, and cooking for people who needed a lift up. We used to cook for the city’s elite, now we’re just cooking for our own survival and for the people we were cooking for.”

At the same time, they were “putting in 17, 18, 19-hour days like it was nothing. We weren’t tired. I would get up in the morning and go to work and I wouldn’t get home till the wee hours of the next day—and do it again. It never felt like work. It stopped feeling like work during that process,” he said.

“It really changed my whole perspective on food and cooking, on being a chef, and what it’s really all about,” said McHugh. “It’s such an eye-opening experience to really put so much love into a pot of beans, or a pasta, or a really good bread pudding.”

It brought to mind his mother, who was always taking care of people, helping any and all who showed up—whether or not they could give anything in return. “I never understood that until I became that person who was just taking care of folks,” he said. That labor of love became an indelible lesson for McHugh.

“Now, I cook what I can get my hands on. I want to work with local providers, local producers, and also be right with the earth and not cook species of fish that are overfished—and not working with producers who are destroying the land,” he said. “It’s important to me to continue to take the lessons learned during Hurricane Katrina forward and continue that path.”

The next chapter of his life would be in San Antonio, Texas, where McHugh moved in 2010 to open Besh’s first restaurant outside Louisiana, Lüke. But it wouldn’t begin without a challenge.

Cured

Not long before McHugh’s move, he woke up with a swollen face. “It almost looked like I was in a prize fight the night before,” said McHugh. He’d been tired, lethargic, and couldn’t understand why he was feeling that way. His doctor thought it was a cold, and other doctors and specialists he saw were baffled. Finally, someone told McHugh he looked like he had allergies, and he went to see an allergist.

McHugh remembered, “The allergist looked at me and said, ‘Whoever sent you here is crazy.’” Allergies didn’t happen overnight or cause reactions like McHugh was experiencing. After a CT scan, the cause of McHugh’s ailments became obvious.

“There it was: I had a tumor in my chest about the size of a baseball,” he said. He had blood cancer, B-cell lymphoma—but the swelling was fortunate because, otherwise, he might not have found the cancer until he got much sicker.

In New Orleans, McHugh began his chemotherapy treatments. After two sessions, he confided in his doctor: “Hey, I’m supposed to be moving in a month. Should I not? Should I stay here?”

“And I remember him saying, ‘Nobody’s told you to stop living your life,’” said McHugh. The takeaway was powerful. He felt then that he could beat the cancer—and he did.

“I just went at it like ‘this isn’t going to slow me down.’ I moved to San Antonio, my wife and I came here, I opened a restaurant while going through treatment,” he said. “The power of positive thinking and believing, and understanding that you’ve got more to accomplish in life, really pushes you through.”

In the aftermath, having already opened several restaurants for others, McHugh opened his own restaurant, Cured, in 2013. While the name in part signifies his triumph over cancer, Cured is also one of the most popular charcuterie restaurants in the country, famed for its whole-animal approach in cooking. Every part of each butchered animal is used, so the menu is ever-changing based on what’s in stock.

Cured is located within an old administrative building in San Antonio built in 1904. (Inti St. Clair)

“Ten, eleven years ago when I got sick, I didn’t think that food could play such a huge role in health, and the more I study and the more I learn about food and food systems, it makes me want to continue to be a better chef and provide better ingredients and better products,” he said.

“I don’t want to consume, and I don’t want my customers to consume, any animal that’s been penned up its whole life, that’s been shot full of hormones, or sustained solely on one thing,” he said. McHugh visits the places where the animals are raised and the produce is grown. “Being around farmers my whole life—you know what to look for.”

For instance, he said that the steak at Cured is great not just because of the way it’s prepared, but also because of where it comes from: “[Peeler’s] ranching practices are amazing. They do great field rotation, so the cattle aren’t just stuck in one field all the time. They also will rotate sheep and goats through the fields as well, and the importance of that is that goats are great at really cleaning up just about anything unhealthy; they have stomachs that are amazing and they can get in there and eat a lot of the grasses that are harmful to the cattle.” This also clears out parasites, making for healthier fields and cows.

When visiting a hog ranch, he found 1,000 acres where pigs were running freely. McHugh said of the farmer: “He refuses to ring their noses, because pigs want to root.” Many farmers put rings in pigs’ noses so they won’t tear up the earth, but the pigs on this farm: “They go in there eating bugs, they’re eating mesquite beans, they’re rooting for those tender shoots under the ground that they love to chew on and snack on. He lets them give birth out in the fields where they want to be—and the babies are healthier, the mamas aren’t rolling over on them. There are a lot of species of hog in our country that we have bred the mothering nature out of—because the [sows] don’t know how to be mothers anymore.”

“For me, it’s important to see that they’re healthy, they’re happy,” said McHugh.

“If we’re constantly eating unhealthy animals, we are going to become unhealthy, right? I want to be able to offer really good meat—and as somebody who butchers and has been a butcher a lot of his career, I tell people: eat less meat, eat better meat,” he said. “Let’s eat less, but let’s eat better.”

Seeing the ranchers and farmers in their craft grew McHugh’s knowledge, as well as his interest in using local sources. At a James Beard Foundation dinner with chef Kevin Nashan, McHugh heard him use the word “landrace,” and he quickly made a note of it on his phone.

Pig cheeks poutine with pickled cauliflower. (Inti St. Clair)

“Landrace is the idea that something is better because of place, and is growing within its natural surroundings,” said McHugh. “It isn’t just something that is native to the area, but it can also be something that has thrived in the area.” Case in point: Texas cattle.

After that, he developed an idea for a restaurant that focused on native ingredients and celebrated the Texas terroir. In 2021, McHugh opened Landrace. “Thanks, Kevin Nashan.”

Determined that the new restaurant wouldn’t be Cured 2.0, McHugh went back to the three pillars of what he believes makes a successful restaurant: good food, good service, and great ambiance.

“I kept thinking: What are we going to do here? What’s going to be the star of the show here? And, we brought in this big, beautiful wood-burning grill that is completely fueled by Texas post oak and mesquite,” he said. “It’s really about taking cooking back to its most elemental, right? Cooking started with fire.”

“It was stepping outside of my comfort zone and working with solid fuel like wood. And it really challenged me to think of food on that level. Can I grill a salad? Can I grill these carrots—not just turn them into smoke bombs—being gentle with something that can be very in-your-face like wood and smoke?” he said. “It was a lot of fun.”

At this point in his career, it’s not uncommon to be asked about the next big thing. Young chefs are certainly thinking that way, too, and McHugh has some advice for them: “Don’t try to come up too fast. Travel, learn—and when I say travel, I’m not saying go to Paris, I’m saying we’re an hour from Austin—there’s no reason to not go and have a nice meal and come home.”

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine. 

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A Photographer Captures America’s Posh and Affluent Through His Exclusive Lens

He is the great-grandson of a famed Alabama governor. He grew up in the rich districts of Washington, D.C., before becoming a quintessential snowbird: part-time New Englander and part-time Floridian.

Nick Mele knows he grew up privileged, with the ocean-opulent milieu of Newport, Rhode Island, serving as his childhood playground in the summer and the aristocratic venues of Palm Beach during the winter.

He has rubbed elbows with the most elite of the elites, who have thought nothing of allowing Mele to hang out and photograph them in their “ordinary” lives. He compiled the highlights of his summer adventures into the book “Newport Summer,” a mesmerizing pictorial that mingles—as Nick dubbed them—“the last bastions of old school American high society” with his own family, including his wife and their two young sons. With his sweet sense of humor, Mele calls them his “kid monsters.”

The would-be envy of any photographer, the 39-year-old modestly regards those days as more of a hobby among friends. As far as wedding shoots go—the proverbial bread and butter of most pros—“I’d rather never do one again,” he breezily proclaimed.

Of all things, for the silver-spooned Andover (prep school) graduate, the thing Mele craves the most is being hired to do marketing shoots: to put his brand of photography on a brand, he explained, that teases the imagination with an entire story line.

Molly and Archer play around at the 2021 Kips Bay Show House in West Palm Beach. (Courtesy of Nick Mele)

“For me, it’s less about how pretty a picture is,” he said, “and more about telling a story; it’s more of a personality thing, and that means trusting me to set the scene from my camera’s point of view.”

Among his lengthy list of clients who trust him are Vanity Fair, The New York Times, and Town & Country. One of his favorite shoots was for shoe giant Sam Edelman, in which Mele himself appeared. The image, which depicts the tall, debonair Mele opposite a beautiful French model playing a newcomer to lavish living, appeared on billboards all over Los Angeles.

Sarah Wetenhall is the owner of The Colony Hotel, an iconic respite cradled by ocean vistas and Palm Beach’s paradisaical luxury fashion stores. She trusted Mele enough to allow him to tie her up to a chair with Christmas lights and stick a corn cob in her mouth.

Named one of the top hoteliers in the world by Hotels Magazine, Wetenhall hired Mele to do a holiday campaign for the iconic hotel known affectionately among its A-list of clientele as the “Pink Paradise.”

For the shoot, Mele also dressed Wetenhall’s three young children in monkey suits and instructed them to climb trees next to their “restrained” well-dressed CEO mother. He did a similar shoot during the pandemic that captured the potentially zany reality of what life might be like quarantining in an empty, fancy hotel with three children under the age of 10—complete with Wetenhall’s kids riding their bicycles through the hotel lobby, kayaking in the hotel’s swimming pool, and having a tea party atop an elegant baby grand piano.

“Nick has such an appreciation for the charming and the irreverent that, when combined with his brilliant eye—magic happens,” reflected Wetenhall, adding that life would not be the same at The Colony if Mele hadn’t been the one to “tell its story.”

Nick Mele with his wife, Molly; their sons, Johnny and Archer; and the family dog Lola in front of their home in West Palm Beach, Fla. (Courtesy of Nick Mele)

Mele indeed underscores humor as a key ingredient to his success. There are also the little things that count, like never showing up to a shoot “looking like a photographer.”

“I try to go to these things and be the best dressed person there and really fit in,” said Mele. “I find a big part of taking people’s pictures in places like that is making them feel comfortable, and I like them to see me as another guest who happens to have a camera.”

He is unabashed about drawing ideas from some of the world’s most influential photographers, or whom he calls the “the greats.” Slim Aaron, Douglas Friedman, Tina Barney, and Patrick McMullan are his foremost idols. But he turns to them not to copy their styles, Mele emphasized, but to study how they broke the rules, such as “using an overly harsh flash” and actually “having it work.”

“The most successful photographers and the ones I really love,” Mele shared, “are the ones that have a really strong brand and a very strong vision and you could look at them and be like—‘That’s their signature.’”

Nick also sometimes breaks the rules when it comes to drawing inspiration. His grandmother Marion “Oatsie” Charles, who died at the age of 99 in 2018, did not approve of him taking up such a poor man’s trade as photography. Mele said he was actually “a little afraid of her” when he was a little boy because she was so commanding.

She would end up being his greatest influence.

Nick Mele’s son Johnny and dog Bodhi take a peek at what’s on the table at the family home in Newport, R.I. (Courtesy of Nick Mele)

The granddaughter of Alabama Governor William Oates, known for fighting in the Civil War with only one arm, Oatsie—as everyone called her—was as uncontrolled as she was connected. She was friends with the Kennedys and someone whom Nancy Reagan was introduced to as part of her unofficial inauguration into the White House’s high society—and not the other way around.

When Ronald Reagan died, Oatsie was, of course, invited to the president’s funeral, and she recruited her college-age grandson Mele to take her. When a low-flying plane was suspected of attempting to attack the Capitol building, U.S. Secret Service burst into the Rotunda and ordered everyone to evacuate.

After Mele anxiously navigated his wheelchair-bound grandmother through the throng of frenzied funeral-goers fleeing for safety, instead of thanking him, she chastised him for not going back after her beloved tigerwood cane that she had dropped in the chaos of their hurried escape.

“She never entered a room that wasn’t absolutely thrilled to see her,” Mele both mused and reflected.

It sounds like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, or perhaps in Nick’s case, palm trees.

As Wetenhall summed it up: “You can’t live in Palm Beach and not know Nick Mele.”

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine. 

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In the Business of Trust: Tech Entrepreneur and Nobel Peace Prize Nominee Keith Krach Shares the Secret to Good Leadership

Keith Krach, former undersecretary of state and current billionaire entrepreneur, first started working at his father’s Ohio mechanics shop when he was 12. As he worked alongside his father, those valuable lessons his father imparted became the principles by which Krach has conducted business, from the time he was the youngest vice president of GM to his Silicon Valley ventures. They also inspired the goal Krach wanted to achieve during his time in public service: propelling America’s tech innovations so that she can continue to be the world’s foremost economic power.

Krach’s father and uncle were World War II veterans who were proud to serve their country. “They love telling stories about how America’s manufacturing might was a decisive factor in the war, and he also taught me that the key to America’s manufacturing prowess was fair competition in the marketplace. And that’s what drives productivity, and that’s what increased the standard of living throughout the world,” he said in a recent interview. That respect for America as a place that rewards hard work and integrity, coupled with his own boldness, led him to Silicon Valley. Krach turned cutting-edge tech startups into multi-billion-dollar public companies, such as DocuSign, the popular platform for signing agreements on electronic documents, and Ariba, a software offering businesses a more straightforward way to procure goods and services. The latter went public in 1999 as one of the first e-commerce companies geared toward businesses to do an initial public offering.

Keith Krach in front of the Golden Gate Bridge, an iconic symbol of San Francisco, the city he calls home. (Ian Chin Photography for American Essence)

Later, while serving as undersecretary of state for economic growth, energy, and the environment, he spearheaded a campaign to protect American 5G innovations from authoritarian states that refused to play by the rules, earning him a Nobel Peace Prize nomination. A group of academics nominated him for developing a new model for countering unfair competition. Krach reflected that though he was sometimes advised against making such unprecedented moves, he felt that he had an obligation to serve his country. “I think sometimes people are afraid of consequences that aren’t really even going to be there. Besides, at the end of the day, you’ve got to look at yourself in the mirror and say, ‘Did I do the right thing?’ That’s the most important thing.”

Integrity and Trust

Growing up in Rocky River, Ohio, Krach learned “the beauty of free enterprise” from his father: small businesses like his were the economic engine of American manufacturing, he often explained. He also said, as Krach recalled, “‘The American dream is when the student surpasses the professor.’ … His goal was to have me be better off than him and my children better off than me.”

After graduating from Purdue University and Harvard Business School with full scholarships from GM, Krach entered the auto company with fresh ideas. At the age of 24, he gave a presentation to the board of directors, proposing that the company start a robotics division, a relatively unexplored area at the time, around the 1980s. He convinced them to enter a joint venture with Fujitsu Fanuc, the leader in programming the “brains” of robotic machinery.

Krach with his wife, Metta, during during a White House state dinner in Washington, D.C., September 2019. (Paul Morigi/Getty Images)

Through selling robotics to Silicon Valley, Krach was inspired by the risk-taking spirit of tech entrepreneurs. “[Silicon Valley] looked like the West Point of capitalism. You know—a United Nations, a total meritocracy.” He decided to go work for a software company. But on the second day of the job, he learned a hard lesson about what it meant to keep his integrity. “The CEO goes, ‘Keith, I want you to say this at the board meeting.’ I go, … ‘I won’t do that. That would be lying.’” His experience at the company went downhill from there. But it was a critical lesson that motivated him to start his own companies based on trust and integrity. “Those values are the most important thing in any company, because people can say, ‘Hey, I don’t like how you look. I don’t like where you went to school.’ But they can’t take away your integrity.”

His experience in Silicon Valley taught him that trust should be the basis of every relationship, business or personal. “You do business with people you trust, you partner with people you trust. You love people you trust, and so the most important skill is your ability to build that trust, and your biggest strategic asset are your trusted relationships, particularly when you’re starting a company from total scratch, right? And because they have to trust in you, they have to trust in your product, your processes, your company, how you’re going to treat them as a customer,” Krach said. He further explained that trust is like a “four-legged stool.” Within the idea of trust is having integrity, the capability to perform well, good judgment, and empathy. Instilling these principles enabled the staff at his companies to work together smoothly.

Krach speaks with Brent Christensen, then- director of American Institutes in Taiwan, September 2020. (HSU CHAO-CHANG/POOL/AFP via Getty Images)

At DocuSign, where he was CEO and chairman for 10 years until he was confirmed undersecretary of state in 2019, the same values held true. During a meeting with employees, he told them, “We’re not in the software business. We’re in the trust business. We deal with people’s most important documents. … Trust is sacrosanct.”

Serving America

He carried this idea with him when he was appointed to the State Department. He called it “the fastest decision I’ve ever made in my life, probably.” His father’s auto shop, and thousands of other small businesses in the Midwest, were gutted by China’s predatory trade practices. In Silicon Valley, he experienced first-hand having intellectual property stolen by Chinese state-backed companies. His father taught him to act if he witnessed something unfair. “It’s easy to sit back and think, somebody else can do this. But if everybody thinks that way, what do you got?”

Krach developed a new model for foreign relations, especially to target adversarial nations like China that don’t follow the rule of law—one that would leverage America’s strengths as an economic superpower and driver of entrepreneurship. Called the Clean Network, it created an alliance of nations and international telecom companies that promise to follow standards for transparency and not to use distrusted Chinese vendors that threaten data privacy. These countries and companies would be encouraged to partner with each other for 5G technology. Krach said he wanted to beat the aggressors at their game. “I would just harness the U.S.’s three biggest areas of competitive advantage: by rallying and unifying our allies and our friends, leveraging the innovation and resources of the private sector, and amplifying the moral high ground of democratic values—those trust principles,” he said. After all, America always played fairly.

Krach is sworn in as Under- Secretary of State for Economic Growth, Energy, and the Environment, September 2019. (Public Domain)

His approach was seen as risky by some—many companies and countries are afraid of upsetting China for fear of retaliation, or because it may impact their China market. But Krach said he again believed in the importance of building trust among like-minded partners. By creating an alliance, “it gave them a security blanket, because there’s strength in numbers and there’s power in unity and solidarity.” For this approach to diplomacy, he was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize earlier this year. He believes more tech executives should work together with the federal government—so they can counter foreign threats more effectively. In July 2021, he founded the Krach Institute for Tech Diplomacy at Purdue University, aimed at exactly this cross-section between foreign policy and tech. The institute conducts research on cutting-edge tech that could have implications for national security.

Mentorship

Krach firmly believes that entrepreneurship is what makes America the leader in innovation. And at the heart of it all, Silicon Valley, “the secret sauce … I think is mentorship.” He recalled that after he took Ariba public, the board recommended that he seek out advice from then-CEO of Cisco, John Chambers. Krach was surprised that Chambers agreed and invited him to ask any questions. One day, Krach asked Chambers why he was willing to teach him. Chambers said that he was mentored, too, by then-CEO of HP Lou Platt. Chambers said, as Krach recalled: “‘So Keith, I don’t ask for anything in return. I just asked you to do it for the next guy.’”

In 2019, Krach founded the Global Mentor Network, a program that matches young entrepreneurs with top Silicon Valley CEOs to teach them leadership skills and provide resources for succeeding. He hopes to inspire the next generation. “People go, ‘What do you think your legacy is going to be?’ And I go, ‘Well, it’s not the companies I led. It’ll be the people that I mentor.’” He thinks back to something his father said. “‘You never know if you’re a good father until you see your children’s children.’ You also don’t know if you’re a great leader until you see your mentees’ mentees, right?”

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

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Entrepreneur Mitzi Perdue Shares the Wisdom Behind Her Family’s Businesses, Perdue Farms and Sheraton Hotel Chain

Mitzi Perdue represents over 280 years of the American Dream. She’s the daughter of one business titan—her father, Ernest Henderson Sr., founded the Sheraton hotel chain—and the widow of another—her late husband was the magnate behind Perdue Farms, Frank Perdue. The Henderson Estate Company was started in 1840, while Perdue Farms was started in 1920. Mitzi is also a powerhouse businesswoman in her own right, starting her own wine grape business, Ceres Farms, that supplies some of California’s largest wineries.

She was surrounded by the world’s most successful entrepreneurs for most of her life, yet she is as unpretentious as she is charming. Mitzi credits her humble aura solely to her parents, who were instrumental in the shaping of her character. Reflecting on her childhood, Mitzi fondly recalled her parents’ desire to establish a household that valued character over commodities. Frugality was—and still remains—an undeniable value of the Henderson clan. “My parents put a lot of effort into having their children not be spoiled,” she said. “They didn’t want us to grow up in a bubble of wealth. I value that endlessly.”

At the start of World War II, the Hendersons made the decision to relocate the family from Boston, Massachusetts, to an idyllic farm 30 miles away in Lincoln. This decision came as a result of their desire to immerse their children in a lifestyle that valued hard work, self-respect, and togetherness. It deviated from the society living that the family was used to, but Lincoln became the setting where many of Mitzi’s most cherished childhood memories would be made.

Farm life, albeit simple, certainly wasn’t easy. When not in school, Mitzi and her four siblings were responsible for daily chores like mucking (removing manure); feeding the cows, pigs, and ducks; and cleaning the home.

In an effort to provide their children with a well-rounded upbringing, the Hendersons enrolled them in both public and private schools. As a result, Mitzi developed friendships with debutantes and daughters of dairy farmers alike. Having a foot in both camps was, as Mitzi described it, “the most beneficial upbringing.”

An old family photo of Ernest Henderson Sr., Mitzi’s father, who co-founded the Sheraton hotel chain with his Harvard University roommate. (Courtesy of Mitzi Perdue)

Until she reached her teens, Mitzi was clothed in hand-me-downs from her siblings. “The idea of getting my identity from buying designer clothes—not going to happen,” she said proudly. Instead, the Hendersons stressed the importance of forming one’s identity through service. “The best life isn’t lots and lots of money; it’s lots and lots of values.”

There is no doubt that the most important influence on Mitzi’s life was her father. Besides instilling extraordinary values in his children, Ernest was a business pioneer with incredible foresight; at the time of his passing, he owned 400 hotels. Despite the family’s incredible wealth, Mitzi recalled: “If I ever wanted anything, my father’s answer was always the same: ‘Earn it.’”

In the 1930s, the real estate business was an absolute catastrophe; hotels were filing for bankruptcy daily. In an effort to transform them into successful organizations, Ernest purchased many of the failing properties. Upon acquiring the assets, his first task would be to gather the entire staff—who most likely feared losing their jobs to new hires—into the hotel’s ballroom. “The first words out of my father’s mouth would always be, ‘Every one of you gets to keep your job. I believe in you,’” Mitzi recalled. As a further testament to Ernest’s devotion to his employees, the first areas of the hotel under renovation would always be the employee dining hall, lockers, and other areas that the public would never see. “My father always felt that a leader’s job was to give people a better vision of themselves.”

Mitzi remembered a moment she shared with her father that, as she described, “deepened [her] soul.” It was a Saturday afternoon, and she was no more than 10 years old. Mitzi wandered into her father’s home office to see him fully immersed in ledgers, books, and paperwork. On such a beautiful morning, her father should have been enjoying a day on the golf course like his friends. When Mitzi asked what he was up to, her father revealed that he was reviewing requests for charitable donations. “He said the most pleasure his money ever gave him was in giving it away.”

In addition to a devotion to charitable giving, the Hendersons also have a deep respect for legacy. As a result, they, as Mitzi put it, “never air their dirty linen in public.” Though the Henderson family has been around since the 1800s, it is nearly impossible to locate a story, or even a rumor, of a public family spat. When asked how this is possible for a family of such stature, Mitzi answered, “One of the things that our parents instilled in us was that jealousy didn’t play a part in how we interacted with each other. Our job was, if someone did well, to rejoice for them, not to be jealous for them. When one was doing well, it enriched all of us.”

Mitzi with her late husband, Frank Perdue. (Courtesy of Mitzi Perdue)

In 1988, at a Washington, D.C., party, Mitzi’s life forever changed. Frank Perdue arrived late and Mitzi arrived early; their schedules overlapped by only 10 minutes. Those 10 minutes soon became the start of an iconic love story that spanned over two decades. At the time, Mitzi lived in California and Frank was based in Maryland. The pair was immediately drawn together; the connection was instant. They found similarities in the trust issues that stemmed from each of their past relationship woes. In the middle of their conversation, Frank’s demeanor changed. He studied Mitzi’s face and paused. Frank said he believed he could trust her. “And I looked up at him,” Mitzi remembered, “and said, ‘I believe I could trust you.’” They spent the remaining four minutes of their conversation discussing what their marriage might be like. Their decades-long marriage grew into the most loving relationship Mitzi had ever experienced.

Today, Mitzi’s focus is to carry on the legacy of both the Henderson and Perdue families. She has written a handful of books based entirely on the lessons she learned from her father, husband, and friends. Once a woman with a debilitating fear of public speaking, Mitzi has grown into a powerhouse presenter, and she has been commissioned to speak across the globe.

If you ever have the pleasure of crossing paths with Mitzi at the airport, don’t expect all of the pomp and circumstance that comes along with being an heiress. “When flying internationally, you’ll find me in coach [class],” Mitzi said. “I’d much rather donate the thousands of dollars for a first class upgrade to charity.”

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

Categories
Features Entrepreneurs Lifestyle

How a Girl Suffering From Eczema Became a Skincare Industry Pioneer

If you’ve seen Kate Somerville Cosmetics ads or have seen Kate in magazines or on TV, you would think that she’s always been beautiful and that her life is perfect and always has been. Kate says, “People usually expect me to be ‘silver spoon stuck up.’” But that is the furthest thing from the truth.

Kate grew up on a farm in Fresno, California, with a dad who was a high school football coach who wasn’t in touch with his emotions and a mother who suffered from mental illness and addiction. Actually, it was probably Kate who suffered most.

Kate’s dad was known to all as a great guy. He was beloved by the boys at the mostly black high school where he coached. He mentored those boys and helped them see that there was a good future for their lives. The single moms of the boys he coached were grateful because he helped them keep their sons in line. But at home, he was full of rage, so much so that Kate remembers that no doors were left standing in their house. Her dad was completely unable to cope with his wife’s erratic behaviors or to be there for her.

Kate describes her mother as an “eccentric hippy.” She would go out drinking and partying and then fall into deep depression. When Kate was 9 years old, her mother left her with her dad. But occasionally her mother would call to tell Kate that she was going to commit suicide. It was an emotional roller coaster. For the next year, it was just Kate and her dad living in the barn on their land. She describes it as, “incredibly eclectic and artistic with a beautiful garden, a trailer for a kitchen and an outhouse for a bathroom. I was the only person I knew who lived this way and I’m convinced it was the source of my creativity.”

Kate’s dad moved on, remarried, and started a new family, a family where Kate didn’t fit in. She loved her dad and knew he was a good guy (because everyone said he was), but she felt completely abandoned.

She spent her high school years “couch surfing” with friends and living with a relative, and then in her senior year of high school, she moved in with her boyfriend. All throughout her high school years, her mother would come in and out of her life, and every time she showed up, she brought chaos and pain with her. Fortunately for Kate, her boyfriend’s mother became a strong mentor in her life, providing a sense of stability.

Another important person in Kate’s life was her high school counselor, Mr. Talley. He knew that things were rough for her. He saw her struggling and not fitting in at school. He knew when Kate’s mother was in her life because Kate would get hives and have a painful flare-up of eczema from head to toes, complete with dried, cracked, and oozing skin. Mr. Talley knew that Kate was working, trying to deal with her mother, and suffering through the humiliation of the skin problems she experienced, so she wasn’t able to have a normal senior year. She couldn’t go to the prom or to games or do any of the other things that other kids seemed to be enjoying.

Mr. Talley, with whom she is still in touch today, made a deal with Kate—he would let her leave high school early (she had enough credits to graduate) if she would go to city college, which she did. Kate worked three jobs to support herself while attending college. Her mentor, Barbara Wells, her boyfriend’s mother, taught her the value of unconditional support and believing in yourself. Because she had grown up with horrible eczema, she knew what it felt like to be uncomfortable in her own skin. She had always looked for different remedies to solve her own skin issues, which sparked her passion for helping others do the same. So when a friend who was a dermatologist suggested she get a degree in esthetics, she enrolled in esthetician school and focused all her attention on helping others who suffered with skin problems.

Comfortable in Your Skin

As a result of the suffering Kate experienced with her own skin condition, she wanted desperately to learn what she could do for herself and others who suffered with skin problems. Kate knew intimately the impact of an ugly skin condition on one’s self esteem and confidence level. She had experienced the helpless feeling of her body’s obvious public outcry of eczema. Kate knew better than most that the trauma we experience in our lives takes a toll on our body, mind, and spirit.

While in school, Kate had an idea to work side by side with doctors to complement their services. This was unusual at the time, as most estheticians worked in spas giving facials. Kate created and presented a business plan to a cosmetic surgeon, and shortly after graduation, she opened her first clinic inside one of the country’s top cosmetic surgery offices. Celebrity clients quickly fell in love with Kate’s post-procedure care and began booking esthetics appointments with her.

In 2004, Kate opened her first Skin Health Experts Clinic in the heart of Hollywood. She built a team to help create custom skin care protocols for people of every age, ethnicity, and skin type. They found solutions for those who couldn’t find solutions anywhere else. Word quickly spread through the entertainment industry. Soon, the world’s most famous and photographed faces were coming to Kate for her expertise.

In that first year, one of Kate’s celebrity clients asked her to bottle her clinic super facial so she could take it on location while filming under harsh lights. Kate’s signature product, ExfoliKate Intensive, was born. This was huge because at the time, the skin care industry was dominated with products that were developed by physicians who were predominantly male.

Kate has seen over and over again the true personality of a person emerge as a result of her healing products, like in the case of a young, black teen who came into her clinic one day and couldn’t make eye contact. He had a ball cap pulled way down low over his face, and he kept his face down as he told the receptionist that he was hoping to see if Kate would help him. Kate took one look at him and knew that this was the worst case of acne she had ever seen. The kid told her that he had no money to pay her, but her tenacity kicked in, and Kate was on a mission to heal this young man.

Kate took that teenager into a room and began a healing process that involved him returning twice a week until he was totally transformed. He became part of the family. Everyone in the clinic cheered him on as they watched this young man transform from the kid who couldn’t lift his head to make eye contact into a handsome model and an R&B singer!

(Courtesy of Kate Somerville)

Kate Arrives

As Kate’s business grew, her national reputation as an esthetician and healer grew with it. At just 23 years old, Kate was featured in the front window of Henry Bendel’s on Fifth Avenue in New York. She said, “It was this insane window that said ‘Kate Somerville has landed.’ They had beautiful mannequins who looked like flight attendants.” She arrived in New York late on the day of the launch, and as this farm girl from Fresno pulled up in the taxi and saw the huge display that was her name and her products, she thought she would feel excited. Instead, she felt a huge pressure. She had arrived, but now she had to live up to the hype and maintain this national status.

“My team and I had created this hype before we were actually a big business. I was treating a lot of famous people. I had a vision of the brand early on when I was 20 or 21. So here I am, a young girl with big aspirations, never been to business school. I was an esthetician and a healer. I felt like I was on Mount Everest with fake nails and flip flops,” she said.

At the same time that Kate’s business was starting to take off, her mother was declining. She was living on the streets, was sick, and had lost all her teeth as a consequence of drug use. Kate remembers vividly the night that her products were going to be in the swag bags for attendees at the Oscars. This was huge for her! She was on top of the world. Her products were finally being recognized. But at the same time, she was processing the wild emotions of her mother being in her last days. While preparing to attend the Oscars, she went to a hospice to say goodbye to her mother. By that time, Kate had heard from some of her mother’s friends from high school about what her mother had gone through as a young girl at the hands of her step-father. Kate finally understood that her mother’s addictions were her attempt to medicate her pain in the only way she knew how. Her mother died on Valentine’s Day. Kate was able to forgive her mother and make peace with her before she passed.

By this time, Kate was married and had a son. And although she had a great life, Kate still harbored a lot of anger toward her dad. She would write letters to him and then burn them in order to get the anger up out of her. It was Kate’s marriage to her wonderful husband and their raising a son that led to Kate letting go of the anger toward her father before he passed away. She realized that her mother and father probably did the best they could with what they had.

Kate says that in hindsight, three good things came out of her childhood. First, Kate was exposed to diversity from her earliest memories. Her mother brought home friends who were gay and bi-racial, and her dad often invited the black football players he coached over to the house, so she has always been totally comfortable with people who are different from her. Second, she learned to work hard. She knew that if she was going to be successful, it would be because she worked hard and earned it. She never expected success to fall into her lap.

When asked how she healed from the chaos and loss of her childhood, Kate said, “Emotionally I’ve worked really hard, going to Al-Anon, reading self-help books, and seeing a counselor on my journey to be better and trusting.” Third, Kate has a fierce tenacity. She doesn’t give up. That tenacity served her well when she began her mission of trying to find the right combination of ingredients that would help her, and thousands of others, heal from serious skin conditions. Kate has been on a mission to do that ever since. And heal she has! Her skin is beautiful and radiant, and she has surpassed her goal of helping thousands of others. In fact, she has helped tens of thousands of other people to look and feel like the beautiful people they are.

Kate has continued to grow her business through helping and healing one person at a time. Her products are in all the high-end retailers and are available all over the world. She still maintains her clinic in Los Angeles. She wrote a book called “Complexion Perfection,” and she’s working now on curricula for training and certification for paramedical estheticians who will practice alongside dermatologists.

Kate says that a very small percentage of women get funded for business at this level. She’s grateful for the success she has achieved, and for the people who have helped her get there, but her greatest reward is the people who come up to her crying and saying, “You changed my life when you transformed my skin.”

Q&A

What advice do you give to others about their appearance?

Enjoy youthfulness because no one can have it forever. Your looks right now in your youth, enjoy it. It’s a commodity. It will be gone. Right now you can walk in a room and turn heads. At my age, you don’t turn heads as much anymore. And you know what? If you’re okay inside, it doesn’t matter. What matters most in life is doing whatever makes you feel fulfilled and doing it as much as possible.

What do you think is the most significant way someone can help a young person?

Mentorship is everything—especially for women! The greatest mentor in my life was a woman named Barbara Wells. She was my boyfriend’s mother, and she took me in young. She had unconditional love, but tough love. When I was 20, Barbara told me, “You have a choice of what you want your life to be. You can either dwell on your childhood and the past, or you can make your life what you want it to be.

Having grown up in a chaotic environment as a kid, I didn’t know what choices were available to me. Life felt out of control. Barbara let me know I had a choice and changed my life personally and professionally from that moment on.

What would you say to a young person starting out in business?

People told me my dreams were impossible. I didn’t take it personally. I found a way to defy impossible. Find a way to defy what seems impossible for you.

From a business perspective, it’s not to lose sight of what you’re trying to do. A business will take you over—the sales, the cash flow, etc. If you lose sight of why you’re doing it, it’s not fun anymore. For me, it’s important to connect with clients and stay close to what motivated me to start this—to heal people. Keeping your focus on the mission of what you’re doing!

Also, no matter what industry you’re interested in, have the courage to take the path. When there is a “no” or a slammed door, go the other way, don’t give up. Keep going. There are so many incredibly successful people who failed before they made it.

What would you say to women in business?

Delegation is key! Know what your strengths and weaknesses are and hire the people you need to. I am an esthetician first and business woman second, so it’s important to have the right team in place.

Also, take time for yourself! I love being a wife and a mother and a business woman, but with so much going on it’s important to take time for yourself in order to be able to be your best. Small luxuries like relaxing in a beautiful bath with candles lit allows me to recharge so I can continue to give to my family and my business.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine. 

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Features Lifestyle Uncategorized

American Polo Star Nic Roldan on Harnessing the Power of the Mind

A polo player must have great control not only of his body, but also over his horse. The two must be able to turn together on a dime. In the ancient game of polo—one of the oldest-known team sports, originally crafted as a mock battle for training cavalry—the speed is fast, the strategy is sharp, and the maneuvers are precise.

With horse power driving the action, the players’ lives are at stake. “People don’t understand … that we literally put our lives on the line every time we step out on the polo field,” said Nic Roldan, current captain of the U.S. national polo team.

He balked at discussing further the dangers or injuries he’s witnessed. “I never like to talk about it or even think about it,” he said. He compared polo players to NASCAR drivers; neither can afford to be paralyzed by fear. “The moment you start thinking about those things and having that fear, it’s probably the moment you need to quit,” he said.

Roldan keeps a tight rein on his thoughts. He directs them toward positivity, gratitude, and achieving his goals. At the age of 15, he became the youngest player to win the U.S. Polo Open. Now, at 39, he not only continues with polo, but also models, has his own apparel line, and founded a property development company. He spoke of the perseverance that’s key to his success.

“There have been challenging moments in my career—where either I’ve lost a job, or I didn’t get hired one year, or I wasn’t on a really good team—and you get really frustrated. You just go through it. I’ve always dug deep and had faith and a strong belief that I could do it. The mind is a very powerful muscle.”

An Early Start

Roldan starts his busy days with meditation and prayer. He takes an hour and a half of peaceful time to himself, and it’s his favorite part of the day. But going to the “office” is pretty good, too.

“Coming to my barn every day and knowing that this is sort of like my office and being able to hang out with these incredible animals, … I’m obviously incredibly blessed,” he said.

Roldan at a meet-and-greet with the champion racehorse California Chrome. (Courtesy of Nic Roldan)

As a fourth-generation professional polo player, Roldan has been around horses for as far back as he can remember. His father, Raul Roldan, played polo for the Sultan of Brunei. His father is Argentinian and Roldan was born in Argentina, though he has lived most of his life in Wellington, Florida.

“What I learned the most [from my father] was his dedication, his passion for the sport,” Roldan said. “He was always extremely humble. I think that was a really great quality of his. He was always very kind. I think at the end of the day, those are the most important things.”

Roldan’s account of what led to his success shows humility as well: “It’s a little bit of luck; it’s having the right team, the right organization, and the right horses under you.”

He says that the relationship with horses is one of the most important parts of playing polo. “What defines an elite polo player is being at-one with your horse, … flowing with each horse in sort of an artistic way, like a ballerina.” It’s not easy to learn that level of synchronization, Roldan said. It’s partly innate, and it also develops naturally by spending a lifetime with horses.

The Horses

A game of polo typically lasts more than an hour, and players switch horses every several minutes. A player must thoroughly understand each horse’s unique characteristics, Roldan said.

For example, some are light in the mouth, so the player must be mindful of how hard he pulls to have the horse respond as he needs. Some horses have more stamina than others. He must be aware of how the horse is feeling that day. “You could have your best horse, but that day he doesn’t feel that great,” Roldan said.

He describes what it’s like taking all this into consideration in the moment: “It’s the relationship with the horse you have to have, the speed and the intensity, the understanding of each horse and the control of each horse⁠—all while you’re trying to hit a ball 25 to 30 miles an hour, [and] you’ve got four other guys trying to chase you. It’s incredible.”

Roldan added: “We don’t just get out onto the polo field and run around like a bunch of chickens without heads. Every play is thought out. … It is really like a chess game.”

Holistic Life

Polo works the mind and the whole body. “The most important thing for polo is having strong legs, strong core, and strong shoulders and upper body,” Roldan said, laughing as he admitted that he listed pretty much every part of the body. “It’s the whole body. … If you look at most polo players, we’re not bulky. You need to be lean, flexible.”

Roldan also exercises his creative side. His mother, Dee Roldan, is an interior designer, and Roldan began working with her on flipping houses as a side project during his 20s.

“My mom has always had an artistic palette. She’s always been very unique and very distinctive in the way she’s dressed and in her designs,” Roldan said.

He set his mind to excelling in this pursuit and started building from the ground up. He founded a development company, Roldan Homes, and recently became a realtor for Equestrian Sotheby’s International Realty.

The polo player is committed to keeping his mind and body in peak condition at all times. (Courtesy of Nic Roldan)

His equestrian experience melds with his real estate ventures. His hometown of Wellington is a large equestrian community, with many housing developments centered on equestrian facilities. One of his projects was a horse barn in the Grand Prix Village that sold for $8.8 million. The stalls are a clean, crisp white, contrasting with black wrought iron. Neat cobblestones pave the passageway through the barn. The staff accommodations are modern and roomy, and the owner’s lounge is centered around a large fireplace.

“As an athlete, your career ends at some point. Thankfully, in polo, you can play until your late 40s at a competitive level. As my career starts to wind down, I have to have other things to do,” Roldan said. “I love to stay busy. I love to work hard.”

Gratitude

He also loves to give back. Roldan has dedicated himself to philanthropy, including working regularly with the Boys and Girls Club in Wellington and Kids With Cancer.

“First and foremost, my motivation is what life has given to me. I feel deep down in my heart that, because of what I was given, that I should give back,” he said. “For me, anything to do with kids is really important.”

At the Boys and Girls Club, he spends time with children who are less fortunate, who need extra support as their parents struggle to provide for them. “We throw pizza parties there. I love going over there and seeing the smiles on the kids’ faces and playing ball with them. We do karaoke. It’s a lot of fun,” Roldan said.

Through Kids With Cancer, he spends time with children who are either going through treatment or in remission. He recalled a boy named Johnny who was in remission. “He was an entertaining little boy to be around. He was always smiling and having fun.”

Roldan keeps his mind on gratitude. “I’m obviously incredibly blessed to be where I am today, to have had such a great career. I get to travel the world, and I get to do something I love, I get to meet incredible people,” he said. It has taken hard work to excel to the level he has in polo, and “there’s the gray times and struggles,” but in the end, “it’s built me to who I am today.”

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

Categories
Food Features Lifestyle

Traditional Flavors of the Midwest

The Midwest, also known as America’s Heartland, is home to a myriad of cultures. Immigration, over hundreds of years, has played a key role in developing its diverse food traditions, evident in its variety of delicious dishes—like classic Swedish meatballs, Polish perogies, German bratwurst, and hearty macaroni and cheese casseroles.

Midwest food expert Capri Cafaro hosts the podcast “Eat Your Heartland Out” and regularly features guests from all over this area to discuss its many food traditions. Born and raised in Ohio, Cafaro is well-versed in Midwestern food and the different cultural influences on the region’s culinary scene.

In this interview, she discusses the importance of county and state fairs in building community and showcasing different local foods and agricultural practices. We also talk about unusual dishes in the Midwest, such as “dessert salads,” and the prevalence of farm-to-table schemes, such as Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) programs, which allow city dwellers to enjoy fresh produce from local farms.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Q. How do you think immigration has influenced the Midwest culinary sphere?

Midwestern food and culture are incredibly diverse. I often think that Midwestern food is perceived as either bland, or industrial, or just typical fast food. Those things are somewhat true, and have some historical context based on companies like General Mills, Kellogg’s, and Kraft, which all originated in the Midwest. However, Midwestern food has a great deal more depth and variety, precisely because of both the immigration and migration patterns of individuals who have come to the Midwest over the last 200 years or more.

The purpose of my podcast, “Eat Your Heartland Out,” is to show how different immigrants have shaped the face of food in the Midwest—like Germans in Wisconsin, and Scandinavians in places like Minnesota.

Q. Can you give us an example of an interesting Midwestern food tradition that is still practiced today?

One of the things I personally associate with as a food tradition—and something I actually did a podcast episode about—are the Lenten traditions surrounding the Easter holiday, and the fish fries that churches and restaurants sponsor on Fridays throughout Lent.

They each take on the color of their particular communities and the churches they represent. For instance, some places serve macaroni and cheese as a side dish; some serve perogies because they have a larger Slavic community; some serve haluski, an Eastern European type of noodle dish.

They also serve as a way to bring the community together every Friday during the Lenten season.

(Photo credits: Emily Raw)

Q. Are there any distinctive dishes that you would only associate with the Midwest?

The Minnesota hot dish is a landmark recipe from the 1930s that calls for hamburger meat, onions, celery, canned peas, canned tomato soup, and Creamettes—a special Minnesotan macaroni—all to be stirred together and baked. It’s not a typical casserole because it is intended to be the main meal.

Then, there is the runza (a cross between a Hot Pocket and a burger), which is like a meat pie with Russian origins that became very popular in places like Nebraska. There is also Cincinnati chili, a stew-like meat sauce served with spaghetti, that I am not particularly a fan of, but which is very popular in that region of Ohio.

Q. Can you tell us more about the unique Midwest “salad dishes” and how they came about?

Jell-O salads, which can also be served as desserts, originated when it was discovered that bone marrow could be used to make gelatin. This discovery occurred just in time to be featured at the 1904 World’s Fair, held in St. Louis, Missouri, where gelatin was showcased as a brand-new food item.

As mechanization and industrialization came about, women were trying to spend less time in the kitchen and were looking for something that was easy and simple to make in a fast and affordable manner. Recipe books were published by companies in the Midwest, like General Mills, Kellogg’s, and Kraft, as a way to promote this new gelatin product. You can still find these well-used Jell-O cookbooks in many Midwest kitchens.

Jell-O salads remain very popular with hostesses, who find them convenient and easy to make and serve, either as a salad or for dessert. They are also easy to make and transport to church suppers or potlucks.

(Photo credits: Emily Raw)

Q. County and state fairs are a celebrated tradition in the Midwest. What are some typical foods served there?

That depends on where you go. In my neck of the woods—northeastern Ohio—you will always find pasta and meatballs due to the many Italians living here. Perogies are also a popular fair item where there are a lot of Eastern Europeans.

County and state fairs have their roots in agricultural production, in sharing agricultural techniques, and in bringing your bounty to market. You have dairy products that are often on display. For instance, in my area, people line up for the milkshake stands every year at the Ashtabula county fair because it’s the one place every year that you can get the freshest milkshakes in many different flavors.

The places where you really find the local foods at the fair are the ones that are affiliated with a local organization. So, sometimes the local 4-H club [a national youth organization] will run specialty food stands, but you also have fraternal organizations—like the Lions Club, Kiwanis, or Rotary—that will have their own stands to promote local food traditions, as well as to raise money for their various organizations.

Q. What do county/state fairs say about the American ideal of agricultural bounty and the desire to celebrate that?

Even though more and more people are moving out of rural communities and into suburban and urban areas, there is still a large part of our country that continues to rely on rural agriculture. The Midwest, in particular, has always been known as the breadbasket of the nation—even of the world. That’s because it is one of the major grain producers—including corn, soy, and wheat—as well as a major producer of livestock and dairy products.

Fairs have this sense of nostalgia and provide a magnet for urban dwellers to go back to their roots, at least annually—sometimes even if they have never lived in that particular state or county. There is also a sense that, while you may not necessarily be involved or affiliated directly with agriculture, you want to be engaged in supporting it, one way or another.

While farming may look very different today than it once did, the popularity of county and state fairs continues. Our nation’s politicians certainly appreciate that fact when they regularly visit these fairs to meet and greet voters, and to taste the most outrageous new food items, like fried ice cream or doughnut burgers.

Fried Goat Cheese Cherry Balls. The dish originated in Michigan. (Photo credits: Emily Raw)

Q. What do you think about the trend in farm-to-table schemes like the Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) programs that allow urban and suburban communities to enjoy fresh, local produce?

CSAs have been a part of daily life in a lot of Midwestern cities and towns for decades. Nearby farmers and small-batch artisans promote CSAs as a kind of direct-to-household or farmers market activity, and as a way for even urban dwellers to have regular farm-fresh produce. You get your box of whatever produce is in-season every week, or every two weeks. That way you are supporting local agriculture, even if you may not live directly near it.

CSAs are becoming very popular in urban centers across America, not only in the Midwest. I think there is a misconception that the Midwest doesn’t necessarily set trends, but I would beg to differ. These programs are one longstanding Midwestern trend that is now catching on in other places.

Q. Do you have a specific Midwestern dish that you particularly enjoy?

I’m from the part of the Midwest that is highly Southern and Eastern European. So for me, my favorite comfort foods involve pasta. Also, anything that includes cheese, because some of the largest cheese producers are located in the Midwest.