Joe Hart and Michael Crom's new book, "Take Command: Find Your Inner Strength, Build Enduring Relationships, and Live the Life You Want," is a modern-day version of Dale Carnegie's principles for personal development. (Courtesy of Joe Hart)
Joe Hart discusses how the timeless principles can be applied today.
Joe Hart, CEO of Dale Carnegie Training and co-author of “Take Command.” (Courtesy of Joe Hart)
American Essence: Your book calls on readers to “take command.” Why do you believe so many people struggle to take action toward their goals?
Mr. Hart: One of the key takeaways from this book is helping people address several key questions: What are your goals? What do you want to accomplish? What’s stopping you? And what’s holding you back?
Just the other day I was talking to my 20-year-old daughter about some of her goals. She told me one of the biggest barriers she—and so many of us—have is fear. I’ve learned that it’s up to us. We’re the ones who hold ourselves back. We’re the ones who have to overcome our fears. We have to reframe our mindsets. That’s why it’s important that we take command of our lives.
AE: The book’s first section is on thoughts and emotions. How can people take command of these?
Mr. Hart: First, you need to pay attention to your thoughts. Are your thoughts harmful or supportive?
Second, what are thoughts you’re having that are limiting your ability to move forward? Do you magnify the negative? What would happen if you changed those thoughts?
And third, practice choosing the right thoughts. This is a daily challenge. Like anything you want to improve upon, you must practice this every day.
AE: The next section is on relationships. What is key to building back strong relationships post-pandemic?
Mr. Hart: With this book, we’re urging people to take command of their relationships. To build relationships, you must be honest and sincere in sharing feedback. Take steps to build trust with others and by doing so, build stronger relationships.
AE: The last section’s about the future. How can people set goals and accomplish them?
Mr. Hart: We are challenging people to think about what their purpose in life is—about the importance of living an intentional life. This means knowing your “why”—what drives you, and think about the person you want to be. Write your own mission statement. Read it every day and practice living it every day.
AE: What motivates you to continue what you do?
Mr. Hart: It’s been a great honor meeting so many people who talk about how their lives have been. I’ve heard stories of so many who were able to turn their lives around. That’s why I am excited about the work we do and how it’s changing lives.
This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.
Dr. Jingduan Yang (Adhiraj Chakrabarti for American Essence)
In the ancient world, beauty was defined by harmonious proportion, where all elements combined into a satisfying, soul-stirring balance. It was an ideal to aim for, and a virtue to embody.
Today, there is a saying that beauty is only skin deep. With this notion, it’s no wonder why we see the pursuit of beauty as something vain and shallow, sometimes even ugly. But what ever happened to the more substantive and transcendent aspects of beauty that our ancestors believed were found beyond the superficial? A new plastic surgery clinic wants to help patients find it.
The project began with a grand goal: create a cosmetic surgical center with a deeper approach to aesthetics. Dr. Jingduan Yang has been working the past year to realize this vision.
Yang is no stranger to running a practice. He is currently the CEO of Northern Medical Center located in New York’s Hudson Valley. The center is a multidisciplinary integrative facility that features both primary and specialty care, such as traditional Chinese medicine, pediatrics, sports medicine, and more.
(Cara Ding)
Holistic Healing
Like Northern Medical Center, Yang holds a combination of medical specialties that lend to his holistic mindset. He began his medical career as an acupuncturist—he’s a fifth-generation practitioner of Chinese medicine—and then became an attending neurologist. Later, he was board certified in both psychiatry and integrative medicine.
Yang said he never imagined that his career would branch into the realm of cosmetics. But he wanted to find a way to help people transcend the often shallow reputation of the beauty industry, and embrace something more substantial. “We want to make a paradigm shift to help people to become healthier, happier, and more beautiful,” Yang said.
Dr. Jeffrey Yager (Larry Dye)
The new clinic, called SY Aesthetics, is set to open later this year. Dr. Jefferey Yager is one of the surgeons on the team. Last year, Yager was set to retire from a 26-year career in plastic surgery because he felt his job had become tedious. But Yang’s idea gave Yager new inspiration for his profession. He realized that there were elements that his previous work had been missing.
“Technically, my skills were such that I could repeat excellent results. But what I found frustrating was I could get the same result on several different people and have different satisfaction levels,” Yager said. “If their problems stem from a deeper emotional or traumatic event in their past, or a poor relationship with their partner, I’m not gonna be able to fix that, no matter how well I perform the procedure.”
In addition to offering top notch cosmetic surgery, SY Aesthetics aims to address the matters that the scalpel can’t touch, by providing treatment for the mind and spirit. The underlying philosophy of the practice is to treat what Yang and Yager call the four dimensions of beauty: structural, biochemical, energetic, and spiritual.
The first dimension, structural, is what every plastic surgeon specializes in. This is what we see at the surface that can be changed with surgical procedures.
But dive a bit deeper, and you’ll find the biochemical dimension of your body. Things like hormonal imbalances and nutritional deficiencies aren’t things we often associate with physical beauty, but Yang says these biochemical factors play a large role in how we look and feel. “These chemical components are what the body needs to sustain, to nourish, and to function,” he said. “Therefore, by supporting the chemistry, we support the appearance.”
Common herbs in traditional Chinese medicine: goji berries, dong quai (female ginseng), dong gua pi (winter melon peel), zhi zi (gardenia seeds), rougui (cassia bark), and dang shen (codonopsis root). They are used to regulate energy imbalances in the body, which can lead to a healthier, more radiant complexion, according to Dr. Jingduan Yang. (Tatsiana Moon for American Essence)
Deeper still is the energetic dimension. It is usually associated with ancient forms of medicine, such as traditional Chinese or Ayurvedic practices that work with energy forces such as qi or prana. The forces themselves may be invisible, but their manifestations are clear. Someone who suffers from deficient qi, for example, can see reflections of this deficiency in their appearance and their overall health.
Spirituality
The most profound factor in the SY Aesthetics evaluation is the spiritual component. This dimension is embodied in the thoughts and beliefs that we hold. These are also invisible elements, but they definitely reflect on how the world sees us. “When you’re around somebody who has true beauty, you don’t really notice the physical defects,” Yager said. “It’s the way they make you feel. You just enjoy being around them because they radiate this positivity and energy that’s infectious. That’s what we’re trying to bring out.”
A spiritual approach to plastic surgery may seem unusual, but Yang says it’s essential to a truly holistic vision of beauty. Patients who address this dimension before going under the knife may even conclude that they don’t really want plastic surgery, or realize that they’re pursuing it for all the wrong reasons. “Actually, we would like them to do that if that is the case,” Yang said. “Sometimes they know what they want in their head, but they absolutely don’t want it in their hearts.”
Acupuncture treatment is a key feature of traditional Chinese medicine. (Cara Ding)
Even if patients decide that surgery is necessary, Yager said going into a procedure with a strong spirit helps with the whole process. He points to a body of research which shows that spirituality is associated with better health outcomes. Such studies reveal that prayer and spirituality is an important aspect of the healing process, particularly in plastic surgery.
“Even the patients who are doing aesthetic surgery can benefit so much from the advanced nutritional therapy that we can offer … These should not be underestimated,” Yager said.
If a patient shows issues with trauma, nutrition, or some other imbalance, they can still elect to get physical changes once they’ve addressed these deeper concerns. And Yager believes all these factors combined will lead to a more satisfying, and ultimately more beautiful outcome, both for himself and the patient. “I consider what I do the easy part,” Yager said. “All the patient has to do is go to sleep, and I can do all the work for them. But I can’t fix these spiritual, energetic, and biochemical things with such rapidity. Those are the processes that take longer, and they’re harder work.”
In the past few years, some cosmetic surgery practices have been moving toward a more holistic bent, but Yang and Yager want to encourage a revolutionary shift in the entire industry. Last fall, the SY Aesthetics team held an international conference to share their direction, philosophy, and research. A second conference is planned for this fall.
“This is about really moving the field of aesthetics and beauty forward to the next level. And our hope is, other people do the same,” Yager said.
“With hard work, you can do anything,” said fashion designer R’Bonney Gabriel. Today, as Miss Universe 2022, she wants to inspire young women everywhere with her message. Just last year, the Houston resident clinched wins at the Miss Texas USA pageant, followed three months later at the Miss USA competition, and then three months later, on January 14, 2023, the crown of all crowns, Miss Universe.
Gabriel’s story is a multi-generational American dream. Her father immigrated to America with a college scholarship, $20, and the American dream in his heart. Throughout her childhood, he told her, “You don’t have to be the smartest person in the room to make the best grades, you just have to be the hardest worker.” That taught her that even if someone wasn’t born with a natural gift or talent, he or she could still train and work hard to perfect a skill, and achieve any goal he or she set.
Her mother, who came from humble beginnings in Beaumont, Texas, taught her patience, faith, and unconditional love. She “grew up with warm Southern hospitality, [and] I carry that same energy with me no matter where I travel in the world.”
“The hard work ethic and ‘can-do attitude’ combined with my mother’s kindness and heart to serve others are key characteristics that have been instilled in me from a very young age, and are now more important than ever for my role as Miss Universe,” she said.
Gabriel was crowned Miss Universe at the pageant held in New Orleans, La., on Jan. 14, 2023. (Miss Universe Organization)
Gabriel recalls an anecdote from her childhood when she wanted an outdoor playground set that cost a lot of money.
“We received a catalog in the mail with these extravagant-looking playgrounds, … and my dad said that we could build it ourselves. He taught me how to dig a hole and mix cement to build a base, how to hammer nails, drill holes, use a level, etc. It was four stories high … with a tire swing, ladders, and even a bridge. That project really showed me how to take a vision and build it into a reality. That shaped me to have a ‘do-it-yourself’ mentality in life.”
The Pageant Bug
She began entering pageants at age 25, after being encouraged by a woman she kept running into at photo shoots. When she first started, the goal was to challenge herself and become better at communicating and speaking because she was very shy.
“I placed first runner-up at my first pageant,” she said, “and got the ‘pageant bug.’ She soon discovered that competing in pageants requires a lot of work. She trained daily for two and a half years to get to Miss Universe, taking hair lessons, make-up lessons, walking lessons, and weekly interview lessons.
“I did mock interviews, watched the news constantly, trained my mind to formulate my thoughts and opinions in a particular way, worked out intensely, dieted, found sponsors, and spent lots of time designing and sewing my outfits for the competition,” she said. “Pageantry took over my life to the point where I didn’t have time for much else, but it was worth it in the end.”
Gabriel has a passion for sewing. During the Miss Universe competition, she made several outfits herself from recycled material. (R’Bonney Gabriel)
Another incentive to enter a pageant was her strong belief that you should always give things in life a try at least once. In fact, she was in a juggling club in college owing to a love of the circus arts, worked at a haunted house where she would pop out and scare people, and put her dorm room mattress under her cutting/sewing table to sleep on because she had a small room and most of it was taken over by sewing supplies and tools, which would ultimately lead to her fashion brand: R’Bonney Nola.
Gabriel is the first Filipina American to win Miss Texas, Miss USA, and Miss Universe. “[It] is a huge honor, and I hope this inspires others to embrace their unique culture. I hope this opens the door for more representation in pageantry,” she said.
Gabriel also believes in giving back; when she heard about Magpies & Peacocks, an organization dedicated to collecting, curating, and reusing post-consumer textiles to reduce waste in the fashion industry, she knew she wanted to get involved.
“I was already so passionate about recycled/sustainable fashion,” she said. “When I walked in for my first tour, Ahshia Berry, the co-owner, offered me a job to be the lead sewing instructor for the MAKR program, which offers sewing classes to women of Houston who have survived domestic violence and human trafficking. I was so happy to get started with them!”
At Home in Houston
Growing up in Houston gave her an open-minded outlook on life. “Houston is home to every culture and ethnicity,” she said. “My high school experience was a great time in my life. We had every cultural background at school, and I was friends with everyone.
R’Bonney Gabriel hails from Houston, Texas, and is the first Filipina American to win Miss Texas, Miss USA, and Miss Universe. (Fadil Berisha)
Gabriel was also friends with different crowds based on the different activities she enjoyed growing up. “I played volleyball, played oboe in band, and attended yearbook class. This upbringing shaped me to accept anyone for who they are and showed me the beauty of so many different people.”
One of the most challenging parts of her reign so far is the cyberbullying and harsh online comments that get her down sometimes.
“I try my best to ignore it. I’ve realized that no matter what I do, I just can’t please everyone, so I just remind myself that my self-worth does not come from other peoples’ opinions about me,” she said.
When her year is done, she will continue building her sustainable fashion brand, R’Bonney Nola, as well as modeling and working to educate and inspire young girls and women through her sewing workshops and motivational speaking. With her “can-do attitude” and excellent work ethic, R’Bonney Gabriel has the world (and the universe) at her fingertips—one upcycled dress at a time.
You may know Suzanne Somers as the cute blonde, Chrissy Snow, on “Three’s Company,” a hit TV show in the 1970s, or as the entrepreneur behind the ThighMaster fitness device (yes, it’s still being sold!). But it might surprise you that Somers, now 75, has spent decades exploring breakthroughs in anti-aging that avoid chemical toxins and Big Pharma.
Fourteen of Somers’s 27 books have made it onto the New York Times bestseller list, and most of them center around natural health. Her journey with alternative treatments started 25 years ago, when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She eschewed chemotherapy and found success with natural supplements. Her cancer went into remission. But take it from her, she’s no extremist when it comes to alternative medicine. “I go natural first,” Somers said. “And I take care of my body. I feed it right, I sleep it right, I think it right, I love it right. And then if none of the natural treatments work, then [I] resort to allopathic.”
Somers also believes it’s important to have a healthy mindset. Her infectious happiness about aging stems from how she thinks positively about what’s ahead of her.
When Somers was a young, single mother, her son was hit by a car and almost died. It caused terrible nightmares that led her to seek therapy for him. At the same time, the therapist helped her overcome the effects of her abusive, alcoholic father. “Maybe we have to go through this crud in life to realize all that we are. And in each of the circumstances in our lives is the basis for our wisdom, layering on itself.”
That healing process gave Somers the confidence to take on a major acting role on national television and set her on a lifelong path of self-improvement. “I looked at every negative as an opportunity and use[d] it as the next stepping stone to growth. So at my age now, when you think you’re going to start not thinking about growing, I’m thinking about ‘Wow, I wonder what’s ahead of me now? … What do I get to learn next?’ And there’s always, always something.”
Her life experience is why she’s so grateful to be the age she is now. “I almost want to say to people younger than me, ‘Wait until you get to be my age, it’s so great!’ You have the one thing young people can’t buy or have, which is wisdom and perspective.” She’s learned to shut out negativity. “I don’t think negative thoughts. … If [there are] people you’d like to be pissed off with, I immediately shut it out. And I think ‘It’s so not worth it.’ I wish them well.”
She’s excited for what the future holds. “I trust and have faith and I live a happy life. Every day I just thank God for this beautiful day. … I plan to be here till I’m in my hundreds.”
Karina Brez wears pieces from her Lucky Horseshoe and Horsea collections. (Frank Castillo Photography)
Silver-set moonstones and more than 30,000 Swarovski crystals, placed one by one onto a hand-drawn design—those were the jewels that started it all. They adorned the pageant gown Karina Brez wore when she was crowned Miss Florida USA in 2012, which she designed and made with the help of her family, including her master jeweler father. Compliments from fellow contestants encouraged Brez to start her own jewelry collection the following year, combining her love for horses and her expertise as a certified gemologist to create elegant designs that became the talk of the equestrian world. In 2021, Karina Brez Jewelry opened a retail location in Palm Beach.
What is the most essential piece of jewelry every woman should have?
Diamond studs. I know it’s nothing I invented, but they just do something to a woman’s face that’s classic, sophisticated, and glamorous, with the versatility to wear from day to night.
What is your most prized piece of jewelry?
My heart shape sapphire and diamond ring. I was fixated on it when I was a little girl working at my dad’s shop, and asked him to gift it to me when I graduated from gemology school. I have owned it for more than 20 years, and it is just as special each time I take it out of the safe.
Where do you get inspiration for your designs?
Horses, for many of them, but I also look toward nature and current trends. My vision behind my latest collection, “Horsea,” is a shipwrecked coin from long ago.
Your father and grandfather are jewelers from Ukraine; how did they influence your career path?
My father wanted me to take after generations of jewelers and keep the name going. I rebelled and didn’t want to be given anything. I decided to become a graduate gemologist—almost making his wish come true, but also blazing my own path in the dying art of jewelry appraising. But there was no creative outlet for me, so on the side, I started to design. It wasn’t until adulthood that I realized I was born to be a jeweler; it was in my blood.
You’re also an ambassador for Horses Healing Hearts, a nonprofit that provides equine-assisted therapy for children affected by substance abuse; what inspired you to work with them?
I started volunteering at Horses Healing Hearts just before I won my first pageant, before I was Miss Florida USA, before I was a business owner, and after I lost a friend. I see the tremendous 180-degree turnarounds many kids make, and the empowerment, confidence, and life-coping skills they can learn from being around horses.
What values have helped you succeed as a small business owner?
Don’t take “no” for an answer. My persistence and determination have become my greatest assets. If I want something done, nothing stops me—except the time it takes.
The open-arched Bixby Bridge, completed in 1932, is famous for its aesthetic design and magnificent setting. (Maria Coulson)
In the big cities and small towns across America, young and old alike daydream of cruising the curvaceous coast of California on charismatic Highway 1. There are breathtaking stretches etched between sheer cliffs and surging sea wind, from crystalline coves to redwood groves and from Los Angeles city lights to San Francisco heights.
Along the highway, you can refuel and revel in the dozens of coastal towns, iconic and historic edifices, parks, and beaches, all while gaining insights into the exciting driving experience.
The longest state route in California, Highway 1 extends 650 miles from San Juan Capistrano in Orange County to Leggett in Mendocino County. It’s time to pull down your visor; you’re facing the sun’s glare, with a steep drop just beyond your passenger’s right elbow. Known also as the Pacific Coast Highway, it doesn’t constantly cradle the shoreline, and segments range from rural road to urban thoroughfare.
In 1937, the highway was completed with the blasting of rock faces and erecting of aerial bridges spanning cavernous chasms. A tenuous, narrow strip along the coastline was created, with stretches of cliff-clinging, hairpin-turning roads. Whether you are cruising the tight track in a humdrum Hyundai or a snazzy Mustang convertible with the wind in your hair and the sounds of the Beach Boys’ “California Saga” in your ears, this drive uncorks clutch-the-edge-of-your-seat excitement.
You never know what’s over the next rise or around the next bend. It might be mountains that plunge nearly perpendicularly into the ocean, surf and wind that pound the rocky shore and contort the cypress trees into otherworldly shapes, or a sheltered cove harboring a tranquil sea painted in shades of turquoise and sapphire.
Hundreds of tourists rent Mustang convertibles for the scenic Highway 1 drive each year. (Maria Coulson)
Beach Towns
Heading northwest, the dry inland heat gives way to the cool sea air, as the tangle of metroplex traffic loosens, and you enter the embrace of the Pacific Ocean. The longest and most accessible sandy beaches along Highway 1 are found on the 95-mile expanse from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara.
Malibu has achieved mythical status among California beach towns for its sun-kissed Hollywood stars, who are drawn by the celestial-high real estate, and its perfect curl waves that attract walk-on-water surfers. Even for Malibu surfing mortals, there’s a rush of adrenaline when a breaker curls over your head, and you can see the light of day as you pass through the crest of a wave.
The Santa Ynez Mountains are a statuesque backdrop to the Santa Barbara coast, referred to as the American Riviera. The exquisite Mission Santa Barbara, known as “Queen of the Missions,” inspired the colonial style of the city. Few structures define the Spanish heritage of our nation like the 21 California missions established during the 18th and early 19th centuries, according to the National Park Service.
After its longest inland foray, Highway 1 cuts back to the coast close to Morro Bay. The seaside town sits along a natural estuary inhabited by blue herons. The bay is notable for a solitary, 576-foot-high volcanic rock that was once a prominent landmark for mariners. On the embarcadero, sleek seals and shaggy dogs raise a ruckus barking at each other. Fishermen unload and weigh their catch; gulls squawk and flock to tossed salmon scraps.
The Point Arena Lighthouse rocky spit is the closest spot to the Hawaiian islands in the continental United States. (Maria Coulson)
A Hilltop Castle and Big Sur
The central coast’s diminutive San Simeon soon comes into sight with Hearst Castle standing sentry. Newspaper baron William Randolph Hearst’s fabled hilltop castle began construction in 1919 and was never completed. A magnet for Hollywood celebrities during the 1920s and 1930s, today the site attracts about 700,000 annual visitors, who are drawn to the opulent extravagance of the extraordinary estate. They marvel at the ornately decorated and furnished 124-room mansion and the three guesthouses reigning over a crown jewel coastline.
Nearly in the shadow of the castle lies the under-the-radar Piedras Blancas rookery. More than 25,000 elephant seals pile up seasonally like bloated bratwursts on a narrow crescent of rocky beach. The behemoth bulls inflate their trunk-like snouts to make a roaring bellow. The portly pinnipeds ponderously waddle in and out of the water, crowd together to sunbathe, throw sand over themselves, and erupt into brawls.
The 90 miles from San Simeon to Carmel bring you to the Big Sur region, with a wild and rugged coast and rough-and-tumble mountains. Encompassing five state parks, a national forest, and a wilderness area, Big Sur is a milieu of meadows and hillsides awash with brilliantly turned-out wildflowers and canyons crowned with magnificent redwood cathedrals. California condors, with a wingspan of more than 9 feet, soar in bright cloudless sky or amid fingers of fog.
Delightful Scenes
Carmel is an enchanting and whimsical seaside enclave of fairy-tale cottages, posh art galleries, and chic boutiques that captivate the creative set. An eminent departure is the most faithfully restored of the California missions, the Carmel Mission Basilica Museum. Dating to 1770, it houses an impressive collection of original paintings and relics, most notably “Our Lady Of Bethlehem,” a statue that migrated with the missions’ founder Father Junípero Serra to Carmel.
20th-century writer John Steinbeck immortalized neighboring Monterey in his novel “Cannery Row.” The gentrified waterfront would be unrecognizable to the writer who eight decades ago described its historical pedigree as “a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.” The cannery was once filled with the sounds of men whistling and hollering, rivers of silvery fish pouring out of boats, and the clangor from titanic turbine pumps. Then, the sardines disappeared from the bay in the early 1950s. Over time, all fell silent. The last operating cannery was converted into the Monterey Bay Aquarium.
A breaching humpback whale observed during Chris’ Whale Watching boat tour on Monterey Bay. (Maria Coulson)
It’s a short shoreline stroll to the Fisherman’s Wharf, which once served as a fish market and now is a tourist hub. Affable, 80-year-old Captain Chris Arcoleo owns and operates Chris’ Whale Watching. There’s no better than Captain Nick Lemon, who has worked for him for 62 years, when it comes to spotting whales. “This is the Serengeti [national park in Africa] out of all the oceans that I have sailed throughout the world,” seaman Keith Stenler told boat passengers gawking at a congregation of two-dozen humongous humpback whales.
On the northern edge of Monterey Bay, about an hour’s drive, is Santa Cruz, celebrated for its surfing culture and laid-back lifestyle. Surfers can be seen pedaling their bicycles through town carrying their boards. The nostalgic boardwalk contains the West Coast’s last seaside amusement park. The fun-for-all atmosphere is punctuated by squeals from nervous Nellies riding the Giant Dipper, a century-old wooden roller coaster. For the faint of heart, the 1911 Looff Carousel still spins a magical spell with 73 hand-carved horses, an original band organ, and rings to toss into the clown’s mouth as you whirl by.
The highway crosses San Francisco’s graceful suspension bridge—the engineering marvel fancifully described as a “giant harp hung in the Western sky” by the late USC librarian Kevin Starr in his book “Golden Gate: The Life and Times of America’s Greatest Bridge.” The bridge lives in the national imagination as a symbol of American enterprise and as the gateway to the Pacific. Upon its completion in 1937, chief engineer Joseph Strauss heralded the triumph with his poem “The Mighty Task is Done.” A partial stanza reads:
The Bridge looms mountain high;
Its titan piers grip ocean floor,
Its great steel arms link shore to shore,
Its towers pierce the sky.
The highway intermittently winds through coastal redwood forests. (Maria Coulson)
Fewer Souls
Once beyond the Bay Area, the road becomes less crowded, as many tourists opt for the convenient start and end points of Los Angeles and San Francisco.
This northern portion of Highway 1 is synonymous with splendor and serenity. From San Francisco, it’s about two hours to the harbor-hugging hamlet of Bodega Bay. Nearby Chanslor Stables offers guided trail rides in a peaceful and picturesque pastoral setting. The 40 quarter horses on the 400-acre ranch are lovingly trained rescues, which saddle-savvy riders can scamper down the ocean strand with. “The most amazing experience I’ve had riding,” said 29-year-old senior wrangler Taylor Piercy, “was racing down the beach with a deer. When you’re on a horse, you’re just extra fun to a deer.”
Highway 1 treads the periphery for the next 137 miles overlooking offshore sea stacks and rock arches: sandy beaches separated by surf-swept headlands. The residents are romantics: lovers of solitude and the wild. They carve out a living in precariously perched, cliffside settlements with fewer souls than seals.
Here, you can make your way down to the serrated shore and scramble out onto a ragged reef. Once you peer into the tide pools at the underwater wonders, you’ll see vibrantly colored sea anemones with flowing tentacles that emulate petals of tranquil flowers, clustered among rocks covered with white barnacles that resemble miniature volcanoes. An ochre starfish may stretch its purple arms. When you reach into the brine, you may find a two-toned spiral shell shaped like a turban; it stands up on crab legs and skitters away.
An adolescent elephant seal approaches a crowd of seagulls. (Maria Coulson)
The Russians Aren’t Coming
By the time the morning fog lifts from the hillsides at Fort Ross State Historic Park, the two-century-old wood-burning oven is loaded with hearty loaves of bread. Little boys clamber onto the cannons. Dancers hold hands as they circle the parade ground, singing Russian folk songs. The women and girls wear long, brightly patterned dresses, with strands of amber beads around their necks, their hair swept under colorful scarves—festive attire for a weekend gathering. The men and boys are dressed in simple white tunics, belted at the waist.
Set high on a natural escarpment commanding a stunning view of the sweeping seascape, Fort Ross was established in 1812 as Russia’s only colony in the contiguous United States. The only original building that remains is the one-story family dwelling belonging to the enterprise’s last manager. The outpost was abandoned due to lack of commercial success in 1841.
After navigating the curves and crannies of the coastline beyond the fort for an hour, a 2-mile spur road threads the needle of land, leading to the Point Arena Lighthouse, anchored on the cusp of a crag 50 feet above thunderous breakers. Visitors can climb the spiral staircase of the state’s tallest lighthouse. It was built two years after the 1906 Great Earthquake destroyed the initial structure that had guided mariners away from perilous waters since 1870. Station keepers and their families have endured battering winds, slashing rain, and the low rumbles of the foghorn for more than a century.
This Russian Orthodox chapel at Fort Ross was built in the mid-1820s. (Maria Coulson)
Fragrances
Thirty-five miles farther, Highway 1 appears to lose its bearing. The quaint maritime village of Mendocino is more reminiscent of Cape Cod than California. Prim saltbox cottages are framed by red roses and white picket fences. An artisan assortment of wind chimes tinkles in the sea-scented breeze. Cozy B&Bs welcome you to curl up by the fire; fine restaurants serve freshly caught seafood and local organic wines.
Meanwhile, the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens, terraced on lofty bluffs, first greet visitors with waltzing wildflowers and storm-twisted conifers. Here, you can explore the tableau of manicured formal gardens, dense pine forest, and fern-covered canyons; and delight in the floral displays of rhododendrons as big as wedding bouquets, dahlias in Popsicle colors, and magnolias with the fragrance of orange blossoms.
Almost within arm’s reach are the brawny shoulders of the biggest and most vigorous town on Highway 1 north of San Francisco: Fort Bragg. With a population of 7,000, the town operates a commercial fishing harbor tucked into forested hills at the mouth of the Noyo River. A block off Main Street stands the depot for the vintage excursion Skunk Train, dating back to 1885, when it first transported loggers and freight. Foul exhaust fumes evoked the odious nickname the company has since shrewdly embraced. “Disneyland has Mickey Mouse, we have Mr. Skunk,” general manager Stathi Pappas said jovially about their mascot.
Driving in a Ladybug-Like Pattern
The oft-fog-blanketed and brooding northernmost 70 miles of the highway are little traveled: motorists typically cut over at Fort Bragg to U.S. 101. The road bends inland at the halfway point just above the squall-scoured palisades of rustic Rockport.
The dizzying drive delivers the most posted 10-miles-per-hour twists. It’s mechanical poetry interweaving the countless curves in a syncopation of acceleration and braking. You coil around ridge after ridge. The road curls in on itself and rises, only to drop again. You make your way up, mimicking a ladybug trying to cross a rose in bloom.
Your last descent is near the route’s end at the erstwhile logging camp Leggett, known for the drive-through “Chandelier Tree.” The towering redwoods in this area create a spreading canopy of arching branches over the storied highway. Five-fingered ferns and delicately flowering sorrel form a lush understory along rippling creeks, with dense thickets growing over fallen, Goliath-like logs. “They are not like any trees we know,” Steinbeck reflected in “Travels with Charley,” his travelogue documenting a road trip he made in 1960. “They are ambassadors from another time.”
For 650 miles, the thin ribbon of highway stretches ahead to the horizon, capturing your attention and unleashing your imagination. It reveals the natural splendor and a timeless spirit representing land and sea’s dramatic embrace. The route can inspire a dreamer’s poetic musing and an adventurer’s intrepid quest. The Highway 1 road trip is a rite of passage, and it reminds us that it’s as much about the journey as about the destination.
(Illustration for American Essence by Biba Kayewic)
It was nighttime in Sherrodsville, Ohio, August 1960. A car drove up to a house and parked. Two police officers got out and walked up to the front door. A woman appeared. The men asked if she knew the whereabouts of the notorious thief, jail-breaker, and FBI’s most-wanted at the time: Spunky Firman. She replied no. One officer tipped his hat and started walking back toward the car.
Her response must have been a hesitant “no,” or there must have been some other tip-off, because my cousin Chuck (son of my great-uncle), the other police officer, just deputized a few hours before for the manhunt, knew that it was his duty to search the house. He proceeded to do so. He walked upstairs and came upon a bathroom. Out sprang a man with a hand-held sickle. Out came Cousin Chuck’s gun. The sickle struck Chuck’s hand; the bullet hit Firman’s knee. So ended a manhunt that began a month earlier, when Spunky Firman had escaped the Coshocton County Jail. At the same time, something else began: a family legend that encapsulated what a great man my cousin was.
When Charles Amato died a few years ago, his son Nick made a very similar point by bringing this incident up. He mentioned the public recognition Charles Amato received for his bravery: a commendation from the then-FBI director himself, J. Edgar Hoover. Then, Nick mentioned how he had asked his dad years later where the citation was. Cousin Chuck, sitting down at his desk in the real estate office where he worked part-time, probably drinking coffee and smoking—things he enjoyed doing when not catching criminals—shrugged his shoulders and said, “You can go and get it, but that stuff doesn’t matter. It’s the people you serve.” Spoken like the policeman he had become—better yet, spoken like the man he already was when he caught Firman.
Chuck’s life was a rich picture of other virtues and acts of service. He attempted to join the police force full time soon after he made national headlines for catching Firman. One would expect that the police of Wellsville, Ohio, would welcome a man who had proven his bravery. But they did not, because of a strange fact that is now little recognized or remembered: There was serious ethnic tension between Irish and Italian Americans in those days, and cousin Chuck was Italian, while the mayor was Irish. For the first couple years of his service, Chuck walked the worst beats and took on the lowliest jobs in the department, all because of his ethnicity. He took this position because he took seriously the idea of putting service first. Eventually, he did move up in the police force, becoming a police captain.
There is one story that particularly illustrates his complete embodiment of what a police officer should be. He once arrested a mother, nicknamed “Tootsie-Dootsie,” at a nightclub, because she had left her four young children in the car. Afterward, he took the kids to Johnny’s Lunch for a meal and bought them shoes at Russell’s Store and some jeans. “Protect and serve” seems to be a motto that particularly fits this policeman. He displayed all the virtues most necessary: perseverance, bravery, unselfishness, and attentiveness.
It seems only fitting to cap off the description of a man who treated everyday life as an adventure with one more story: As mentioned above, Cousin Chuck had to literally walk the worst beats at the beginning of his career. His police chief would not even give him a car; instead, he was dropped off at remote locations to walk lonely country roads.
One day, there happened to be a festival in Wellsville: It was August 16th, the feast of St. Rocco’s. It is an important day for Italian Americans, and Wellsville had a fair share of Italian Americans, so it was a day of celebration for townspeople. One Italian American citizen who was not celebrating, however, was cousin Chuck, since he was out walking his country beat.
Meanwhile, two thieves decided it was the perfect time to rob a bank. The robbery went smoothly, and the getaway was going just as well. They were miles ahead of pursuit by the time the police radio dispatch went out.
Then, they turned onto the very country road that Cousin Chuck was walking along. Chuck had been listening to his radio. He had no car, but he had a feeling the very road he was walking on would be perfect for the culprits: a little-traveled country road that could get one to a lot of different places. He set up a makeshift barrier of brush, hid himself in the trees, and proceeded to stop and search every car that came by.
The robbers were not ready for either the barrier or for a lone cop to appear out of the woods, gun held ready. And so, in this manner, two armed robbers in a vehicle were stopped by a lone policeman aided only by his feet and his quick thinking. He was a hero again—or rather, just continued to be the hero he already was.
(Illustration by Biba Kayewich for American Essence)
The young, 8-year-old Andy eyed the baseball arching high in the air, down the right field line into foul territory, as it left the sandlot playing field. The wayward ball sailed 35 feet into a bordering cornfield and rested approximately 300 feet from its origination: home plate.
For most of the crowd watching the baseball game that Sunday afternoon in the summer of 1926, the ball was out of sight and out of mind. But not for Andy. The nascent baseball enthusiast was currently a temporary truant of St. Michael’s Orphanage, which housed more than 400 children on 340 acres of farmland. The orphanage bordered the borough of Hopewell, a small town of 2,000 residents and seven working farms, nestled in the valley of central New Jersey’s Sourland Mountains.
One child, Andy, was missing—his absence yet unnoticed—but for good reason. Andy was on a mission. He and his baseball buddies needed a ball for their daily pickup games. This foul ball was the fortuitous moment he had been patiently waiting for.
Andy rose, his eyes tracking the ball’s flight. “Yes,” he silently declared, “this is it.”
He sprinted into the cornfield, disappearing among the multiple rows of the 10-foot stalks of corn. Spying the ball, he snatched it, jammed it into his front pocket, and then ran as fast as his legs could carry him back to the orphanage.
Game on!
Andy loved baseball—long considered America’s pastime. He passed that love of the game, and the game’s guiding principles, on to his family, friends, and the many players he coached through his life. Andy was a melting pot child of early-20th-century America: a product of immigrant diversity. His father was Italian and his mother was Irish. Andy and his three younger siblings ended up in St. Michael’s soon after the untimely death of their mother, before her 30th birthday.
But this is not a story of lifelong disadvantages. Rather, it’s a quintessential American story of how baseball and its national game melded values into Andy. A story of how a rural, small town in America, inculcated with old-fashioned patriotism and a hardscrabble work ethic, served Andy a slice of Norman Rockwell’s America and forged for him an America worthy of love, veneration, and preservation.
Andy never returned that errant baseball. However, he did return to Hopewell as a 24-year-old adult to raise a family, start and operate a retail gasoline business, and help found the local Little League Baseball as well as organize/coach a local baseball team. In fact, Andy was considered by many to be the Branch Rickey (American baseball player, coach, and civil rights leader) of the neighboring Hunterdon County Baseball League. Andy introduced the first black players to league play in the 1950s with his Hopewell town team. In World War II, he joined the U.S. Navy, leaving his wife and two children behind, and served in the Pacific Theater aboard a PT-Boat (patrol torpedo boat) that sunk two Japanese destroyers, during combat, in the waters of New Guinea and the Philippines. For Andy, America was not just worth loving, it was worth fighting for.
The intrinsic values of baseball and the community cohesiveness of Hopewell are captured in the following nine truisms that Andy espoused and lived by. They spring mostly from the great American playbook that is baseball and are rooted in the small-town sensibility that was Hopewell. They’re what makes America great. They make America worth revering, worth heralding, worth celebrating, and worth loving.
No one bats a thousand, but never stop trying. Failure is not condemnable, but failing to try is.
Run 90 feet. Home plate to first base is 90 feet. Give 100 percent effort: Run 90 feet.
When you get your pitch, jump on it. Don’t let opportunity pass you by.
Take two, hit to right. Hit the ball where it will do most toward achieving success. In baseball that means scoring runs. In life, you achieve success through completing your assigned task.
Let your bat and glove do your talking. Perform deeds, not (boastful) words.
Hustle, always hustle. Give every endeavor your best effort.
Recognize the meritorious efforts of others. Give credit to others. Your competitor or your fellow worker are trying to be the best they can be as well.
Look for two, look for two. Look for the opportunity to go for the next base. One’s reach should always exceed one’s grasp.
Make something happen. Both baseball and America reward tireless effort and perseverance. In order to succeed, you must do more than show up: You must make something happen.
Why do you love America? What makes it worth celebrating? What moves you about the people and places that make up our country? Tell us in a personal essay of about 600 to 80 words. We welcome you to send your submission to: [email protected]
Mary Heffernan at Five Marys Farms, with free-range Black Angus cattle in the background. (Christa Renee)
For Mary Heffernan, being an entrepreneur is a lifestyle, one that demands complete attention and commitment—and, sometimes, a willingness to sleep on the floor.
At age 44, she and her husband, Brian, run Five Marys Farm, a ranch in Siskiyou County, California, with free-range, pasture-raised Black Angus cattle, Berkshire hogs, and Navajo-Churro sheep. They also run an online and brick-and-mortar shop, a restaurant and bar, and a butchery; and they offer two online courses, teaching small business essentials to budding entrepreneurs and ranch skills to kids. Juggling all of this, while raising four daughters (all named Mary), may seem ambitious, but Heffernan has been on this journey all her life. She has had, in total, 19 to 20 businesses along the way.
Five Marys Farms’s Navajo- Churro sheep are raised on pasture grasses and alfalfa. (Tiana Sheridan)
“I always had this spark,” Heffernan said. “I was the oldest of four, and I was motivated by wanting my own money in the bank, and making my own decisions.” At age 9, she started a T-shirt stenciling business and had booths at craft fairs. At 13, she opened a backyard summer camp for 15 to 20 kids called Mary’s Fun Summer Camp, which she ran annually until she was 18. As a child, teen, and later college student looking for income to help pay her way through school, “I was just always looking for chances to start businesses,” she said. “I knew that with a lot of hard work, I could make an idea happen.”
Heffernan’s biggest inspiration was her grandfather. “He was a serial entrepreneur,” she recalled. “He always had a new idea on the horizon. He would drive me around picking up checks from his rental properties and looking at empty buildings. He would say, ‘What could we put in there? We could make it an ice cream shop, or a taco bar.’ He inspired me to realize, ‘Wow, you can just think up an idea and make it a business.’”
Before the ranch, Heffernan and her husband owned a number of businesses in Silicon Valley, including a law firm and two restaurants. “It’s hard to screw up there,” she said with a laugh. “But we left the land of opportunity for the land of hard work when we moved onto the ranch.”
Working in the restaurant business, they had become frustrated with the lack of high-quality, grass-fed beef from animals raised and butchered humanely. So they decided to do it themselves. In 2013, they bought the historic Sharps Gulch Ranch, 1,800 acres of land in the mountains of Northern California, and tried to run the ranch remotely through a ranch manager and weekend visits. By eight weeks in, they realized they couldn’t do things halfway: They decided to move there and run it full time.
A day in Heffernan’s life entails a mix of ranch work, business matters, and taking care of her family. (Christa Renee)
“We left a life of comfort in suburbia to live in a 760-square-foot house with no heat besides the woodstove, no dishwasher, no amenities,” Heffernan said. They often slept on the floor in front of the woodstove because that was the warmest place to be.
But despite such a dramatic change in lifestyle, Heffernan and her family immediately saw its benefits. “We didn’t have that kind of satisfaction in the Bay Area working in front of computers all day,” she said. “Here, we saved a calf’s life; my daughter delivered baby lambs; we dug a ditch to divert the water to our field.” By going back to the farming roots of her own and her husband’s families, Heffernan has found it easier to teach her core values to their four daughters. “On the ranch, they see that having a skill set to be hireable [doesn’t mean] only an education; it’s knowing how to work hard, and feeling the euphoria of coming in dog-tired at the end of the day knowing that you can be proud of your work,” she said.
MaryMarjorie (Maisie) Heffernan cradles a farm cat. (Tiana Sheridan)
Heffernan is also grateful that their lifestyle still gives her opportunities to grow her family business and make a good living. They went on to open a restaurant and bar, Five Marys Burgerhouse, in 2017, and a craft butchery shop in 2021. They published two cookbooks, sharing their favorite recipes for using their meats and feeding their family and frequent guests to the ranch, in 2020 and 2022. Thanks to the internet, they can sell meat not only to locals at their farm store in town, but to someone in New York, Hawaii, or Alaska.
“That is so meaningful to me,” Heffernan said. “I can live the life that I want, back to the land, back to my roots, while using technology to make a living. It allows me to open up a window to so many people to show them our world and what we’re doing.” She uses social media to share her family’s life on the ranch and build a connection with her customers: “That’s partly why our business has been successful and people trust buying from us.”
MaryTeresa (Tessa) and MaryJane (JJ) Heffernan practice their rodeo skills at Five Marys Farms. (Tiana Sheridan)The girls all have their own horses to ride, and they compete in various rodeo events. (Tiana Sheridan)
Empowering Entrepreneurs
Now, Heffernan is taking her experience to become a mentor for other aspiring entrepreneurs. She’s a strong advocate for taking risks and jumping in with both feet: “You need to be willing to do everything you can to make it happen,” she said. A big part of her confidence comes from the tools she has in her arsenal. “If I have an idea and I want to make it happen, I know I can build a website myself. I can design a new logo. I know that I can get the nitty-gritty done fairly quickly: get the insurance in place, form a payroll program. Those things all seem really daunting at first to someone starting a business, and they are.”
She doesn’t shy away from talking about the financial aspect: “If you really want to build something that is going to sustain you and your family, you have to look toward profitability.”
Heffernan cooks a recipe from her first cookbook, “Five Marys Ranch Raised Cookbook,” or the “Home & Family” daytime talk show during the fall of 2020. (Tiana Sheridan)
To help equip new entrepreneurs with the tools they need, Heffernan created her M5 Entrepreneurs program, an online course structured as a “road map” through 40 different topics, from shipping logistics to social media. “Nobody’s going to teach you how to have an idea or how to work hard, but having all the tools to take your idea and make it a reality is so important,” she said. The course also includes access to an app, a community where participants can ask questions and feel like they’re not alone on their journey.
Since its inception five years ago, the program has had over 2,500 enrollments, with participants from the United States, Canada, Australia, Mexico, and the UK. Their burgeoning businesses have included flower farmers, bakeries, creameries, and saddle makers.
One success story that stands out to Heffernan is of a woman in upstate New York who bought an apple orchard with her husband and started an apple business. Last winter, Heffernan ordered their special holiday box, which arrived beautifully packaged—following the program’s advice. A letter enclosed for Heffernan thanked her for the courses, telling her that leaving an unfulfilling job to work on the apple farm seemed scary and impossible, but the couple gained the confidence and tools to do it and now have a thriving business shipping all over the country. “The most rewarding thing as a mentor,” Heffernan said, “is seeing people take the tools and thrive.”
The sunroom is Carter’s favorite room in the house, for having the most natural light—and thus the most plants. Frank the fiddle-leaf fig, his first houseplant, stands tall right of center. (Photography by Hilton Carter)
It started with Frank. Frank the fiddle-leaf fig, that is.
When Hilton Carter bought—and then named—his first houseplant in 2014, he didn’t know it was the start of a life-changing journey into indoor greenery. Now, Frank is the ceiling-brushing star of Carter’s Baltimore home of 300-some plants, and Carter, a fine artist and filmmaker by training, has fully embraced plants as his palette.
Along with his work as a plant and interior stylist, Carter has written four plant care and styling books—“Wild at Home,” “Wild Interiors,” “Wild Creations,” and the recently released “Living Wild”—hosted a workshop series on the Magnolia Network; launched his own line of products as well as a collection for Target; and opened a plant shop, called Green Neighbor, with a partner in his hometown of Baltimore. He spoke with American Essence about his journey to plant styling, how plants made him a better person, and what new plant owners need to know to set themselves up for success.
American Essence: What are the unique challenges—and rewards—of decorating with houseplants?
Hilton Carter: There’s a lot more consideration that goes into plant styling than, say, interior styling. It isn’t just picking a corner and dropping in a plant. You’re dealing with a living element, and understanding not only how it fits in the space for now, but also how it will change and morph and grow over time. You’ve got to think about the future.
I always start with the fact that light is going to be what makes sure that plant stays happy and alive. So you lead with light. It’s difficult to go into the styling portion if you’re not well aware of the care. Let’s focus on care, get that in our back pocket, and then we can have fun when it comes to styling, and that’s where my new book comes in.
A plant is not an inanimate object; it’s a living thing that is giving back to you. It’s providing not just a “look,” but actually a lot of good energy. It’s a symbiotic sort of relationship that is happening between us and plants. We always find ourselves chasing what nature provides. All of the studies show how people become more creative and happy and relaxed and carefree when they are exposed to sunlight and nature itself, so when you find ways to sprinkle a little bit of that outside world inside of your home, there can only be good that comes from it.
Mr. Carter: About 300 that I keep in the house most of the year. I will say it has become more difficult for me to keep my ducks in a row, but like everything else in your life, you have to make time for it if you care for it. I have a daughter who wants all of my time, a wife that understands that my daughter wants all of my time, a dog that definitely doesn’t understand that, and all my plants are like, “Hey, I know we’re probably number four on your list, but please, please make sure you make your rounds.” So whenever I have a moment, I’ll always set some time in my day to check in on my plants.
It isn’t like you can water every seven days and walk away; they don’t all operate that way, especially depending on changes in the seasons, or their placement. You’ve always got to be in tune with them, and you just check in. The fact that my plants also are a part of my job makes it a lot easier for me, and I’ll totally be transparent about that.
AE: Tell us about your own journey with plants. How has learning to care for them affected you as a person?
Mr. Carter: Before, I was a very high-strung, stressed-out individual. Relationships for me were very tough; I never really had an understanding of the back and forth that needs to be part of a good relationship—the give and the take, the “nurture what nurtures you” part of it.
In the process of caring for plants, I learned a lot about how to care for the other living things in my life. I studied how to be patient—and patience is one of the biggest things you need when it comes to plant care. You’ve got to understand the small nuances, and the changes that can happen when you move a plant from one space to another; they’re all individuals. You can sample that and sprinkle it onto every other living thing that you have in your life, and you will be better off. You’ll see those things thrive. That is what plants have done for me.
I started to see it in my relationships—see that more nurturing side of myself come out. I would pay more attention to how individuals in my life operated, and where they were in their emotions, and how to be more delicate, be more understanding, be more patient. I guess it isn’t a coincidence that a year after I completely fell head over heels for indoor greenery, I met the person who ended up being my wife and the mother of my child.
People say that plants make people happy. Well, I’ve been very sad seeing a sad plant, so I can’t say plants make you happy; it’s the care you put into a plant that will make you happy, especially if the plant is thriving. And I haven’t been happier in my life since I introduced plants into it.
AE: Before you became a professional plant stylist, you were an artist and filmmaker. Was there a particular “aha moment” when you realized plants could be a bigger part of your life and career?
Mr. Carter: The aha moment was definitely with Frank the fiddle-leaf fig. It started with, “Oh no, this very expensive bit of decor that I thought I would buy for myself is starting to lose itself, the leaves have fallen off!” It was then through figuring out the process of care that I was just like, “I need to be more involved, I need to be more in tune with this plant, I’ve got to name you so I am now bonded to you, and if you start to struggle, I feel it.” I would be like, “What is going on with you, Frank? I thought we were in this together. What have I done wrong? Talk to me.”
With plant care, you can set yourself up for success. All the times you might feel like, “Man, I’m no good at anything”—if you’re stuck in that position and you bring a plant into your life, you’re focusing on that plant and a new leaf unfurls, that is something you did. Because you could have stuck it right into a closet—dead. But you made the decision to put it into the right light, to pot it in the right size pot, to water it, rotate it. Your care developed a new leaf. That is that serotonin hit: “I’m good! I’m doing something good!”
For me, I was getting so many of those hits that I realized, I’m actually really good at this because of the things that I’m deciding to do. And then I decided, well, if I can do it here, why don’t I focus that energy toward my relationships?
That is when I realized that when it comes to this, I feel my true self—I feel the joy of life in me. This needs to be my world. Because I am now not only giving to someone creatively, but also giving them something that can hopefully help change them in a positive way emotionally, and not just for the moment, but throughout the rest of their lives.
That’s something you also learn as someone who tends to plants: that you then want to share that. I’m sure so many people who love plants around you are like, “You’ve got to have a plant! Take a cutting!” Those are everything to plant people. If I gave someone a piece of Frank, that’s like if I gave them one of my fingers. Someone spent a lot of time and effort to care for this thing, and now they’re like, “Here’s a piece of it.”
AE: In your new book, you have a section on styling plants in kids’ rooms. How have you raised your daughter, Holland, to care for plants?
Mr. Carter: We’re still trying to teach her how to be gentle, not just pull every single leaf off of a plant. But it’s working. She’s a very gentle individual.
I think the idea of surrounding any sort of living being with greenery is important. When it comes to kids, bringing plants into their nurseries or their rooms can not only bring life to their space, but also create learning moments for them: patience, tenderness, care for one another, how do you stay on a schedule? How do you treat life and death? That could be a learning moment: when a leaf dies while another leaf is unfurling, talking and having that conversation.
AE: When you take on an interior plant styling project, whether you work with existing plants or bring in new ones, how do you make sure your clients give them the care they need?
Mr. Carter: I can’t really make anyone do anything, but I do leave them with a care sheet, and I do check in. Whenever you bring a plant into a new space, you’re going to see a little bit of leaf loss because they’re trying to acclimate to the space, so I have to make people aware of that so that they don’t jump to the conclusion that they are just terrible at plants. I try my very best to set people up for success, and I always make myself available.
I will say, most of them, if they do kill their plants, they’re definitely not going to tell me. I already don’t get invited to certain people’s homes because they think I’m going to judge them because of their plants. I don’t judge. I just have side conversations with the plants telling them that one day they’ll make it out of that situation alive.
I’m not here to reprimand anyone. I just drill down the fact that the plants are living things in their heads, and hopefully, at the end of the day, they’ll go, “You know what, I know Hilton’s gonna probably be a little disappointed in me, but I need him to help me.” That is where you turn someone who’s very nonchalant about plants into someone like myself.
AE: Are there any exciting new projects in the works for you?
Mr. Carter: There are, but in order to tell you, I’d have to, uh, overwater you.
Interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.
Tips for Beginners
Ready to add greenery to your home? Hilton Carter has some advice.
Lead With Light
Before you even consider buying a plant, Carter says, consider the quality of light in your home. Then, “get a plant that is into the type of light that you have. It’s setting yourself up for success. If you have a dark home, certain plants will never do well.” There are low-light tolerant plants, Carter notes, such as snake plants, ZZ plants, and dumb canes—“but I use the word ‘tolerant,’ and underline it, because they’re not thriving.”
Do Your Research
Next, you’ll need to think about factors such as the best planter size and material for your plant’s needs, its preferred moisture level, and how often it needs to be watered. “If you’re a novice, you’ve just got to do the work,” Carter says. “Think about it as if you are bringing in a new pet. It can’t just be an off-the-cuff decision; it has to be well thought-out.”
Build a Relationship
Contrary to common advice to start with a low-maintenance plant, Carter isn’t afraid to recommend a needier variety to a novice: “I think if something is asking for your attention every single day or every other day, you’re probably better off to do that work than to go for a plant that only needs watering every three weeks.” A beginner might simply forget—or be skeptical and overwater.
There’s another big bonus: “I love the fact that it’s making them more involved in the life of that plant. That’s how it gets easier, because now they’re more in tune with what a plant needs.”
“Living Wild,” published in March 2023 by CICO Books, is Carter’s fourth book.
Styling Wild
Once you’ve gotten a handle on houseplant care, you can go wild with styling them in your home. Here are some of Hilton Carter’s favorite ideas.
New Heights
Whether it’s sitting a large plant on top of an island, hanging one from the ceiling, enshrining it literally on a pedestal, or perching it on the edge of a bookshelf with leaves trailing down the side, “bringing plants higher into a space, I think having those moments in the home is very fun,” Carter says.
The Walls Are Alive
Mounting plants on a wall adds unexpected depth to a room—you’re making a hard, flat surface “literally come alive,” Carter says. “I love the idea of breaking up a gallery wall with something that’s alive.”
Conversation Starters
For a reliably “transformative” effect, Carter prescribes a “statement plant—a centerpiece that people are just drawn to as soon as they walk in. It’s something that anchors a space.” It could be a singular plant with an eye-catching shape, color, or size; or an artfully assembled arrangement, such as a kokedama (Japanese moss ball).
Bringing the ‘Wow’
For serious plant stylists, consider the “designer plant”: Carter employs these high-profile (and often high-budget) stunners with unique patterns, colors, and textures to complement pieces of home decor. Two that he predicts will be especially popular in 2023: the Alocasia cuprea, for its “beautiful copper shimmer and unique foliage shape and texture,” and the Monstera albo, for its “stunning marbled variegation and ability to climb tall in any space.”
Portrait of music composers Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein at a piano, during the development of their new musical 'Pipe Dream', 1955. (Photo by Pictorial Parade/Archive Photos/Getty Images)
On the evening of March 31, 1943, American musical theater entered its Golden Age. That was the night the curtain at Broadway’s St. James Theatre rose on an old woman churning butter and a cowboy praising the beauty of the morning. It was the night “Oklahoma!” proclaimed the arrival of composer Richard Rodgers and librettist/lyricist Oscar Hammerstein II as a writing team and theatrical force.
The show wasn’t expected to be a hit. “No gags, no girls, no chance,” was the infamous response of a critic who saw “Oklahoma!” in out-of-town previews. Musicals at the time were expected to exhibit a certain degree of glitz that this one lacked. Through the magic of Rodgers’s music and Hammerstein’s words, however, “Oklahoma!” made audiences—and critics—forget all that. It ran for an unprecedented five-plus years.
(Photo by Pictorial Parade/Archive Photos/Getty Images)
“Rodgers and Hammerstein,” as the team quickly became known, went on to define the span of the Golden Age they initiated, which for most commentators ends with Hammerstein’s death in 1960. These years, 1943–1960, were the era of the “book musical,” the blending of musical, lyrical, dramatic, and choreographic elements into a seamless whole, each contributing to the tone and meaning of the story. That may seem old-fashioned in a time of jukebox musicals and pop star tributes, but in the 1940s it was the leading edge of innovation.
Debuting at New York’s Niblo’s Garden in 1866, “Black Crook” was a hodgepodge of song, dance, and story that set the stage for the first American musical. (Public domain)
The Birth of the Musical
The American musical began as a hodgepodge of song, dance, and dialogue loosely strung together to tell a story—or sometimes not. The first example is said to be “The Black Crook,” an 1866 grab-bag of tunes and jokes linked to a thin plot. Over the ensuing decades, the American musical painstakingly crawled its way toward the integration of music, dance, and story line into a sophisticated whole. Two giant steps in that direction were “Showboat” (1927) and “Pal Joey” (1940). Hammerstein wrote the dialogue and lyrics for “Showboat” while Rodgers was the composer of “Pal Joey.”
Original Playbill cover for the 1949 production of “South Pacific,” starring Mary Martin and Ezio Pinza. (Public domain)
Prior to 1942, Rodgers had been working with lyricist Lorenz “Larry” Hart on musicals that slowly advanced the notion of an integrated whole, culminating in “Pal Joey.” But Hart was plagued with personal problems, drank heavily, and was increasingly difficult to work with. Rodgers, intent on turning a little comedy called “Green Grow the Lilacs” into a musical, knew Hart wasn’t up to it. He asked Hammerstein, whose work on “Showboat” he admired, and Hammerstein said yes.
It was a match made in theatrical heaven. Rodgers, tired of the urban style he used with Hart, turned to a more broadly lyrical, operetta-like musical language flecked with American folk elements. Hammerstein’s poetic lyrics matched this and evoked atmosphere, character, and sensibility in a way no popular lyrics of the time did. He could dream into the hearts of a young couple and find them fantasizing about a “Surrey with the Fringe on Top,” or imagine the plaint of an outcast (Judd) in his “Lonely Room.”
BLACK CROOK’s plot involved a fairy queen, and evil count, treasure and a lovely village girl. More importantly, the play integrated music, dance, and spoken lines in a new format similar to that of the modern musical comedy. Poster for an 1882 production. (Public domain)
American Stories Told Through American Music
“Oklahoma!” and the three remaining Rodgers and Hammerstein shows of the 1940s concern American characters. “Carousel” (1945) finds us in New England, witnessing the tragic yet transcendental romance of Billy Bigelow and Julie Jordan. “Allegro” (1947), the only box-office failure of the four, traces the life of an American doctor. “South Pacific” (1949) considers the lives of American servicemen and women in World War II.
Mary Martin with children in mountain landscape. Martin played the leading role, Maria, in the Broadway musical The Sound of Music. (Toni Frissell)
In the 1950s, however, the musicals moved beyond American shores. The two biggest Rodgers and Hammerstein hits of that decade focus on an English lady tutor in 19th-century Siam (“The King and I,” 1951) and a singing Austrian family fleeing the Nazis (“The Sound of Music,” 1959). Their only ’50s box office success set in America was “Flower Drum Song” (1958), considered “minor” Rodgers and Hammerstein. Their TV musical “Cinderella” (1957) used European fairy tale material.
The fading of the book musical is not surprising, given the nature of contemporary song. Traditional popular song, the framework for Rodgers’s music, was harmony-based, whereas current pop is largely beat-based and harmonically much narrower than the earlier type. Harmony was central to creating the appropriate musical language for a book show.
Original poster for Flower Drum Song.
Creating a Musical Universe
All the songs in “Carousel” have a certain melodic gesture in them. This gesture, based on a specific interval between notes (the augmented fourth) generates shared harmonies among the various songs. That’s why numbers as rhythmically distinct as “If I Loved You” and “June Is Busting Out All Over” belong to the same universe: Their harmonic structures are related. But one song is an exception: “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” That’s the hymn Carrie sings to comfort Julie when Billy dies, and the reason it feels transcendent, separate from the others, is that it is harmonically unique. Rodgers and the other composers of the Golden Age didn’t just make up tunes willy-nilly. A deep craftsmanship informed their art.
Rodgers and Hammerstein’s catalogue is today a frequent target of critics who bandy about words like “conventional” and “bourgeois” as if the values represented by them are automatically to be dismissed as out of date. But the clock, as G.K. Chesterton once observed, is a human invention, and humans may set it back any time they wish. Perhaps it’s time to dial our musical theater clocks back to the era of Rodgers and Hammerstein.
Studio portrait of American actor John Wayne wearing his signature cowboy hat and neckerchief, circa 1955. (Hulton Archive/Stringer/Archive Photos/Getty Images)
Rarely is a man remembered for who he was when he was so overshadowed by what he did. In the case of John Wayne, however, who he was and what he did were one and the same.
John Wayne, born Marion Robert Morrison on May 26, 1907, in the very small Iowa town of Winterset, became one of the, if not the, most iconic actors of the 20th century. At 13 pounds, he was born to become a large man, destined for grand entrances and memorable exits. He was the eldest child of the Morrisons, a marriage that was etched with struggles, insults, and uncertainties. The family was poor and moved a lot, eventually landing in California in 1914.
Out in the farmlands and small towns of his upbringing, he learned how to handle guns, having to protect his father from rattlesnakes while working untamed land. He learned to ride horses. He perfected his reading as he went through the Sears catalogs cover to cover, noting each item he wished he could afford. He learned the idea of hard work, even when it wasn’t profitable, something his father consistently experienced and was reminded of just as often by his mother. He honored both his parents, but he loved his father.
Studio portrait of American actor John Wayne wearing his signature cowboy hat and neckerchief, circa 1955. (Hulton Archive/Stringer/Archive Photos/Getty Images)
Wayne grew up strong and tall, suitable for an athletic career. His athleticism landed him a football scholarship to the University of Southern California in the fall of 1925. While attending school, he worked on movie sets as a prop man and was at times a film extra, typically a football player. During this time, he met the already famous and successful film director John Ford. While bodysurfing on the California coast, Wayne injured his shoulder and lost his scholarship. His football playing days were over, but he was still tall, dark, and handsome, and he decided to join the “swing gang” at Fox Film Corporation moving props.
His relationship with Ford blossomed. The two were opposite in nearly every way, but they attracted, as opposites sometimes do. Ford and Wayne developed a kind of father-son relationship, as Wayne would often call Ford “Coach” and “Pappy.” Ford would be credited with giving Wayne his big break—twice.
A Break and a Name
Ford introduced the young actor to director Raoul Walsh, who decided to have him star in his 1930 epic Western “The Big Trail.” The film was a flop at the box office, though in defense of the film, the Great Depression had just begun. During the filming, however, the studio executives decided that “Marion” was not much of a name for a leading man. Anthony Wayne, after the Revolutionary War general, was considered. Anthony didn’t work either. One of the executives suggested John. When the film was released, his new name was on the posters. Much like his nickname “Duke” was given him by local firemen, his new name, bestowed upon him by others, stuck throughout his life.
A new name and a starring role, however, would hardly change his film career. Throughout the 1930s, Wayne was relegated to B Westerns. As he ascended from his 20s into his 30s, he used his time wisely to perfect his on-screen persona―a persona that he assimilated off-screen as well. His choice of wardrobe, his walk, his fighting style were all tailored for himself by himself. The Duke was an icon in the making, and the making was all his creation. He just needed a true opportunity to showcase it.
American actor John Wayne as a young boy, sitting against a fence on the prairies with his younger brother Robert. (Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
A Memorable Entrance
That opportunity arrived in 1939 when Ford chose Wayne to star in his Western film “Stagecoach.” The director had always been a believer in Wayne. The young actor had proven to be a hard worker, receptive to directorial guidance, and willing to do many of his own stunts. Along with that, he was 6 feet, 3 inches tall, with a broad-shouldered frame, blue eyes that showed gray on the silver screen, and a strong nose and jawline. His acting also came across honest, as if he was speaking directly to the person in the audience. There was a magnetic pull with Wayne, and Ford decided to do all he could in his film to draw viewers to him.
Wayne was a familiar name and face for moviegoers, having already appeared in 80 films by this time. Familiar, yes. A star, no.
The 1939 film revolves around seven passengers trying to get from one town to the next while trying to avoid the inevitable Indian attack. Nearly 85 years removed, “Stagecoach” remains one of the great Westerns. The movie did more than tell a great story. It did something more important. It introduced the world to John Wayne. Eighteen minutes go by before Wayne makes his entrance in the film, and it is an entrance that was created specifically for the induction of a soon-to-be American icon.
In a wide shot, the stagecoach rides up a slight incline when suddenly there is a gunshot. The stagecoach comes to an abrupt halt. Starting with what is known as a cowboy shot (pioneered by Ford and also known as the American shot), the camera moves in for a close-up of Wayne, who twirls his Winchester rifle. The shot starts in focus, slightly goes out of focus as it moves toward the actor, and then finishes in focus. The actor stands majestically wearing a cowboy hat and neckerchief, which would soon become synonymous with Wayne. The shot was out of place not just for the film, but also for Ford. But it was intentional for reasons explained by Scott Eyman in his biography “John Wayne: The Life and Legend.”
“This is less an expertly choreographed entrance for an actor than it is the annunciation of a star.”
“Stagecoach” was Wayne’s big break into the Hollywood movies, making him one of America’s leading actors and soon to become a star. Theatrical poster for the 1939 American release of “Stagecoach.” ( Public domain)
America’s Leading Man
From this point on, Wayne would embrace his role as America’s leading man. There were other actors, of course, during his rise. Some on the decline, like Clark Gable and Gary Cooper. Some on the rise, like Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart. Their greatness in their own ways cannot be diminished. Gable with his force of nature persona. Cooper as an embodiment of honesty and kindness. Grant as the romantic symbol of the 20th century. And Stewart, a personified symbol of truth. But Wayne embodied something else, and yet he was all of these things. He became the face of the country.
Authors Randy Roberts and James Olson both noted that Wayne became America’s “alter-ego.” Wayne hoisted that alter-ego upon his cinematic shoulders, which proved more than capable of bearing the load. The Duke chose films that promoted and often propagandized America’s greatness. His primary film genres were war films and Westerns.
When America entered World War II after the Pearl Harbor attack, Wayne was closing in on 35 years of age and already had four children. Film stars, like Stewart and Gable, along with directors, like Ford, joined the war effort overseas. In 1943, Wayne applied to join the Office of Strategic Services, the precursor to the Central Intelligence Agency, but the spots were filled. In 1944, when there was a fear of a shortage of men, Wayne’s status was changed to 1A (draft eligible), but Republic Pictures filed for a 3A deferment for Wayne, which kept him in front of the camera. Ultimately, Wayne believed, arguably correctly, that his impact as an actor (or more cynically a propagandist) would be far greater than as a soldier.
“I felt it would be a waste of time to spend two years picking up cigarette butts. I thought I could do more for the war effort by staying in Hollywood,” he told John Ford’s son, Dan.
Cinematographer Bert Glennon (L) and director John Ford on the set of “Stagecoach” in 1939. (Public domain)
For all intents and purposes, Wayne, who would have been classified as a private, would have most likely remained behind the scenes doing busy work or promotional bits for the military. Though he would never be a military hero, Wayne proved more than patriotic. As Eyman wrote regarding the type of roles Wayne chose to perform, “His characters’ taste for the fulfillment of an American imperative was usually based on patriotic conviction, rarely for economic opportunity.”
Between the span of America’s entry into the war and the end of its occupation in Japan (1952), Wayne starred in eight World War II films. He would also join the United Service Organizations (USO) overseas, where he entertained the troops and helped boost morale.
A Conservative Stalwart
Throughout his career as America’s leading man, he never shied away from making his conservative views known, and he never wavered from opposing liberal viewpoints. He and Paul Newman, a known Hollywood liberal, regularly talked politics and shared books with each other that discussed their differing political perspectives. Wayne’s 1974 visit to Harvard University, to possibly be disparaged by the student body, resulted in both sides walking away with mutual respect.
Wayne knew what was to be expected, especially with the anti-war movement on campuses. He took verbal barbs and responded in his typical fun-loving yet pointed manner. At one point, he told the young audience: “Good thing you weren’t here 200 years ago or the tea would’ve never made the harbor.” The comment was greeted with cheers rather than boos.
As the New York Post columnist Phil Mushnick wrote, concerning the outcome of the Harvard visit, “There were many who found themselves actually—and incredibly—liking John Wayne. They still disliked his politics, of course, but was he any different from many of their parents?”
Wayne reads a “Prince Valiant” comic with his four children, 1942. (Hulton Archive/Stringer/ Archive Photos/Getty Images)
Eyman pointed out the actor’s quasi-familial influence on the American homeland. Wayne’s growth on-screen and off-screen proved to be near equal in its cultural weight. He reminded “people of their brother or son, he gradually assumed a role as everyone’s father, then, inevitably, as age and weight congealed, everyone’s grandfather.”
On June 11, 1979, America’s grandfather passed away from stomach cancer. He had beaten cancer once before, and it had cost him a lung and some ribs. His final film, “The Shootist,” is about an old gunfighter dying of cancer. Though he had another film lined up, his death after his final film is, still tragically, more fitting than ironic.
Wayne was America’s cowboy. He was the war effort on film. He worked to root out communists in Hollywood. He was a man who believed in patriotism when many Americans tried to give that a bad name. John Wayne was, and, according to polls, still is, part of the American family. When Wayne was being considered for the Congressional Gold Medal in May 1979, the stars came out in support. Elizabeth Taylor told Congress, “He has given much to America. And he has given to the whole world what an American is supposed to be like.”
He was awarded the medal a month after his passing. In 1980, President Jimmy Carter posthumously awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Of all the attributes one could give John Wayne, the one recommended to Congress by his five-time co-star Maureen O’Hara seems to be the most appropriate.
“I feel the medal should say just one thing,” O’Hara tearfully said. “John Wayne: American.”
Wayne stars as Robert Marmaduke Hightower in the 1948 western “3 Godfathers.” (Hulton Archive/Stringer/ Archive Photos/Getty Images)
