New law, regulation mean slow start for commercial drone industry

August 30, 2015
This photo was pulled from high-definition video taken by an Unmanned Services Inc. drone camera high above Weisenberger Mill near Midway. Photo by Unmanned Services Inc.

This photo was pulled from high-definition video taken by an Unmanned Services Inc. drone camera above Weisenberger Mill near Midway. Photo Provided

 

MIDWAY — Standing beside South Elkhorn Creek with a remote-control device, Manfred Marotta uses joysticks and a video monitor to guide his small flying drone over and around a bridge, a waterfall and historic Weisenberger Mill.

The light is turning golden on this late-summer afternoon, and the tiny camera anchored to the drone’s belly captures stunning high-definition video.

Marotta is one of many people who think there is money to be made producing this kind of aerial imagery for a variety of clients, including utilities, real estate brokers, farmers, tourism promoters and news organizations.

But, so far, on-the-ground maneuvering with aviation regulators and government policy makers has been more complex than anything drone entrepreneurs face piloting their unmanned aircraft through the sky.

Marotta is chief executive of Versailles-based Unmanned Services Inc., which last month became the first Central Kentucky commercial drone operator to be certified by the Federal Aviation Administration.

A drone operated by Midway-based Unmanned Services Inc. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Sky Drone Studios, owned by Lexington-based Post Time Productions, soon expects to get its FAA certification, known as a Section 333 Exemption, said Jeb Smith, one of the owners.

The field is likely to get more crowded, because of the growing popularity of relatively inexpensive drones and small video cameras. More than 1,300 FAA exemptions for commercial operators have been issued nationwide so far, including more than a dozen in Kentucky.

Aviation policy and privacy laws have struggled to keep up with drone technology, which has made big leaps thanks to military research and development investment during the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Drones are limited to low-altitude flying, generally considered 400 feet or below. Ironically, though, commercial operators face far more FAA scrutiny than hobbyists, who usually have less skill and experience.

The FAA plans to announce new drone pilot training and certification rules in January. Currently, hobbyists flying small drones don’t need certification. But people flying drones commercially must have a civilian license to pilot manned aircraft.

Military drone pilot certification doesn’t count, although Unmanned Services has applied for an exemption until the new rules are issued. Until then, the company must hire a licensed pilot to do commercial jobs, but not free demonstrations.

150813Drones-TE011Marotta, 35, said he spent five years flying drones in the Navy and another three as a government contractor. Chris Stiles, 30, president of Unmanned Services, said he has a decade of drone pilot experience, as a government contractor and before that flying Army drones for battlefield surveillance during two tours of duty in Iraq. They said that, combined, they have logged more than 7,500 hours of drone flight time.

Marotta and Stiles met while they were government contractors. They started their company in 2011 and moved two years later to Versailles, where Marotta grew up before moving to Pennsylvania. His father, Manfred Marotta, played football for the University of Kentucky in the early 1970s.

Their business partner, Weston Amos, is learning to fly drones, but has no military or commercial drone experience.

“For the past two years, we’ve spent a lot of time building up potential clients,” Marotta said. “In the past month, we’ve been able to go out and actually have customers.”

So far, Marotta said, they have done commercial jobs for real estate agents and a television station. A typical job costs clients between $150 and $500.

In addition to high-definition video, from which still images can be made, Unmanned Services’ cameras can do video downlinks for live television broadcast and infrared and thermal imaging, which are useful in utility line inspection, field and crop analysis for farmers and search-and-rescue operations.

Marotta thinks a big market can be developed in utility line inspection, which must be done annually.

“We don’t believe that the drone can take over the entire market,” he said. “But it can sure save them a lot of money and save them a lot of time rather than using manned aviation.”

The Unmanned Services partners also are spending a lot of time meeting with government policy makers to try to prevent legitimate concerns about safety and privacy from resulting in what they would consider bad laws and regulations.

“Talking to the right people and finding those right people has been a lot of our workload,” Marotta said. “We’re trying to protect the industry and ourselves.”

Chris Stiles of Unmanned Services Inc. caught a videography drone as it came in for a landing. It was being controlled by Mickey Marotta, right. They were filming a demonstration video at Weisenberger Mill near Midway. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Chris Stiles of Unmanned Services Inc. caught a videography drone as it came in for a landing. It was being controlled by Mickey Marotta, right.  Photo by Tom Eblen

 

Mickey Marotta of Unmanned Services Inc. flew a drone shooting video high above the Weisenberger Mill near Midway. The control device is visible at lower right, and the drone at right surrounded by trees. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Mickey Marotta of Unmanned Services Inc. flew a drone above Weisenberger Mill near Midway. The control device is  at lower right, and the drone at right surrounded by trees. Photo by Tom Eblen

 

Mickey Marotta of Unmanned Services Inc. controled a drone that is shooting video high above the Weisenberger Mill near Midway. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Marotta operates the drone controls while standing beside South Elkhorn Creek.  Photo by Tom Eblen

 

Demonstration video by Unmanned Services Inc.


African American Encyclopedia reveals untold Kentucky stories

August 29, 2015

Gerald Smith and his co-editors spent most of a decade working on the newly published Kentucky African American Encyclopedia. It wasn’t just research, writing and editing; they had to raise much of the project’s $400,000 budget.

In addition to courting big donors, they gave dozens of fundraising presentations in small-town libraries, churches and community centers across the state.

Those presentations often led to conversations, driving tours, stashes of newspaper clippings and walks through cemeteries with the keepers of community history.

smith

Gerald Smith and co-editors Karen Cotton McDaniel and John A. Hardin and a staff of graduate students compiled  the Kentucky African American Encyclopedia. Photo by Tom Eblen

The content of the encyclopedia (University Press of Kentucky, 551 pages, $49.95) is much richer for that process, Smith said. Many fascinating stories had never made it beyond the counties where they happened.

Amateur historians were an enormous help to Smith, a University of Kentucky history professor, and his co-editors, Karen Cotton McDaniel, a retired Kentucky State University professor and director of libraries, and John A. Hardin, a history professor at Western Kentucky University.

“I can’t tell you how many folks we met like Yvonne Giles,” Smith said, referring to the woman whose years of research have made her an authority on black history in Lexington.

“They could point out all the places, tell you the history of the buildings,” Smith said. “It takes special people like that who are working at the grassroots level.”

The editors also discovered small archives, sometimes in unlikely places.

Smith got a surprise when he spoke at the public library in Owingsville, the seat of Bath County, which Census records show now has only about 15 black residents.

“They had a nice clippings file on African-Americans; who would have ever thought?” Smith said. “That’s why we had to go to see what was out there, and to meet and visit and talk to people.”

That file included information about the Owingsville Giants, which helped prompt Sallie Powell, the encyclopedia’s associate editor, to research and write a detailed entry about Kentucky’s black baseball clubs between the late 1800s and 1960s.

Smith said the saddest part of editing the encyclopedia was recounting tragedies of racism, large and small.

There is the horrific story of Isham and Lilburne Lewis, nephews of President Thomas Jefferson, who in 1811 took an ax and in a drunken rage murdered a slave child they thought had tried to run away after breaking their mother’s pitcher.

More common were the pervasive acts of discrimination used for two centuries to keep black Kentuckians down.

For example, who knew there were black bicycle racers in Louisville in the 1890s?

The Union Bicycle Club may have been the largest club of black riders in the country during a decade when cycling became a wildly popular American pastime.

But the club’s success led William Wagner Watts, a white cyclist and Louisville attorney, to successfully lobby the League of American Wheelmen in 1894 to exclude blacks from membership. That move sparked national controversy.

What is amazing is that so many black Kentuckians found ways to succeed before the civil rights movement. “I didn’t realize there were that many African-Americans from Kentucky who went on to serve as college presidents,” Smith said.

Many had to leave Kentucky to achieve their goals; for example, George French Ecton, a runaway slave from Winchester, in the 1880s became the first black elected to the Illinois General Assembly.

“When you look at that, you think about how many African-Americans could have been governor or senator or the president of the University of Kentucky or Eastern or Western,” Smith said. “They had all the skills necessary to be successful but were denied the opportunity.”

The encyclopedia’s research files, many of which did not result in completed entries, have been turned over to University of Kentucky Special Collections so future researchers can use them.

The editors expect the encyclopedia to generate some controversy because of their decisions about what would and wouldn’t be included. For example, they had a bias toward telling new and little-known stories rather than rehashing some famous ones that have often been told in other books.

“It helps serve another purpose of the encyclopedia, and that is to generate new discussions and debates,” Smith said. “This is actually a beginning rather than an ending, because what this is going to do is churn up even more material. I’m hoping it will inspire more people to not only want to learn about Kentucky history, but to understand it and to preserve it.”

Book signing

What: Editors of the Kentucky African American Encyclopedia will sign copies, along with authors of other books produced by faculty of the University of Kentucky Department of History.

When: 5 p.m. Sept. 18

Where: The Morris Book Shop, 882 E. High St.


Centennial celebration planned Saturday for historic Duncan Park

August 25, 2015
A cyclist rode up North Limestone Street past an entrance to Duncan Park at the corner of Fifth Street. Many young people are moving into neighborhoods around the park and fixing up long-neglected old houses. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

A cyclist rode up North Limestone Street past an entrance to Duncan Park at the corner of Fifth Street. The park originally was a wealthy merchant’s estate. Photos by Tom Eblen

 

There’s a party Saturday to celebrate the centennial of Duncan Park, a piece of land that has reflected the changing character of Lexington for more than twice that long.

Four nearby neighborhood associations are sponsoring the public celebration from 3 to 7 p.m. at the five-acre park at North Limestone and East Fifth Street. There will be live music, food trucks, family activities and exhibits by community organizations.

“We just want people to come out and enjoy the park,” said James Brown, the new First District member of the Urban County Council.

Duncan Park has a fascinating history.

It was part of 20 acres that William Morton acquired in the early 1790s. He built one of Lexington’s first mansions there in 1810, and that mansion dominates the park. The federal-style house has oversized proportions to make it look good from a distance.

The Englishman, who came here in 1787 and opened a store, became a wealthy merchant and financier. Because of his aristocratic bearing, everyone called him “Lord” Morton, but probably not to his face.

Morton gave away a lot of his money, creating Lexington’s first public school. He also was a benefactor of what is now Eastern State Hospital and Christ Church Episcopal.

Two years after Morton died in 1836, his property was bought by Cassius Marcellus Clay, the fiery emancipationist who published an anti-slavery newspaper, The True American, and was Lincoln’s ambassador to Russia during the Civil War.

Clay sold the place in 1850 to his wife’s uncle, Dr. Lloyd Warfield, who subdivided three-fourths of it to create the neighborhoods now north and east of the park.

The house and five acres were bought in 1873 by Henry T. Duncan, editor of the Lexington Daily Press and the city’s mayor. Because of how well he and his wife maintained the grounds, it was known as “Duncan Park” long before their daughter, Lucy Duncan Draper, sold it to the city as a park in 1913.

A month before the park officially opened, it was the site of a May 1915 rally by women seeking the right to vote. That was fitting: Clay’s daughter, Laura, was a national leader in the women’s suffrage movement.

Duncan Park was a happening place for more than four decades, with a baseball field, tennis courts, ping-pong tables and playgrounds.

The Lexington Leader reported in 1925 that three young girls were forming a girls’ club at Duncan Park. One of them was Elizabeth Hardwick, 8, who lived on nearby Rand Avenue. She later moved to New York and became a famous literary critic, novelist and founder of The New York Review of Books.

City officials have always struggled over what to do with the Morton house. Early plans called for it to become a museum or a girls school. More recent proposals have included a black history museum and an official home for Lexington’s mayor.

Instead, the mansion has always housed social service agencies. In 1914, it became a “milk depot” for Baby Milk Supply, a new charity. Now called Baby Health Service, the organization cares for uninsured children at a clinic beside St. Joseph Hospital.

The Morton house was a Junior League “day nursery” in the 1930s and then was the city children’s home until better accommodations were built on Cisco Road in 1950. In recent years, it has housed The Nest Center for Women and Children.

Until the 1950s, Duncan Park was only for white people. The city built Douglass Park on Georgetown Street for black residents in 1916. By the time city parks were legally integrated, a different kind of segregation was taking place.

Lexington’s suburban sprawl contributed to white flight from the neighborhood. In August 1972, 200 black people marched from Duncan Park to city hall to protest the closing of inner-city schools and the busing of black children to the suburbs.

As owner-occupied homes surrounding Duncan Park became poorly maintained rentals, crime soared. Things have slowly gotten better, especially since last year’s fatal shooting of Antonio Franklin in the park prompted his mother, Anita Franklin, to organize well-attended monthly “peace walks.”

Many people attribute the drop in crime to a renaissance in the North Limestone area. Many old houses are being restored and reconverted from low-income rentals to owner-occupied homes.

The Martin Luther King Neighborhood Association has focused on improving Duncan Park since 2001. Discussions are now under way about adding more features to the playground and basketball courts.

Travis Robinson, the association’s president, said the park is becoming safer thanks to better policing and more use by area residents. Regular activities include potluck suppers and story-telling programs for kids.

“It’s a community asset that has been underutilized,” said Vice Mayor Steve Kay, who lives nearby. “More people are coming to live in the neighborhood, and that is making a difference.”

A cyclist rode up North Limestone Street past the old columned entrance to the 1810 Morton House in Duncan Park. Many young people are moving into neighborhoods around the park and fixing up long-neglected old houses. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

A cyclist rode up North Limestone Street past the old entrance to the 1810 Morton House in Duncan Park. Many people are moving into nearby neighborhoods and fixing up long-neglected houses.

The Morton House, built in 1810 and once owned by emancipationist Cassius Clay, sits in the middle of Duncan Park. Since the city bought the property in 1913, it has housed social service agencies. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

The Morton House, built in 1810 and once owned by emancipationist Cassius Clay, sits in the middle of Duncan Park. Since the city bought the property in 1913, it has housed social service agencies.


A century ago, this Lexington boy ran away and joined the circus

August 23, 2015
E.C. Fain of Lexington, who was assistant manager of the famous Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey annex, or side shows, during a decade with the circus is shown in the ticket booth at left in this undated photo from the early 1900s. Photo courtesy of Joe Petro III

E.C. Fain of Lexington stands in the booth at left while Zip the Pinhead performs at the Barnum & Bailey Annex in this photo from the early 1900s. Photos courtesy of Joe Petro III

 

It was a cliché of a more innocent age, a time when people didn’t travel much and before radio, TV and the Internet opened windows to a world beyond small-town America.

If a boy wanted adventure, he could run away and join the circus. And that is exactly what 17-year-old E.C. Fain of Lexington did in 1904.

What’s more, Fain kept running back to the circus for 14 seasons. For most of his career, he helped manage some of the biggest sideshow stars of the circus’ golden age.

The Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey Circus makes its annual stop at Rupp Arena this weekend, so I thought it would be a good time to tell Fain’s story, or at least what I could find of it.

For years, Lexington artist Joe Petro III has collected vintage sideshow memorabilia. His collection has been shown at museums around the country, including the Barnum Museum in Bridgeport, Conn., and a 1997 exhibit at the University of Kentucky Art Museum.

E.C. Fain of Lexington, who was assistant manager of the famous Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey annex, or side shows, during a decade with the circus is shown in the ticket booth in this undated photo from the early 1900s. Photo courtesy of Joe Petro III

E.C. Fain of Lexington was assistant manager of the Barnum & Bailey Annex, or sideshow, during its heyday in the early 1900s.

Petro, my first cousin, mentioned one day that he had some personal papers and photographs of a Lexingtonian who really had run away and joined the circus. He didn’t know a lot about Elmore Crenshaw Fain except that he spent several years as assistant manager of Barnum & Bailey’s famous Annex, as the sideshow was called.

Petro had postcards Fain sent home from his circus travels, first to his mother, then to his girlfriend who later became his wife, and then to their son. He also had vintage photographs of Fain working the Annex, some of which were taken by the famous circus photographer Frederick W. Glasier.

There were snapshots of Fain with some of the Annex’s biggest stars, including Zip the Pinhead (William Henry Johnson) and the giant George Auger.

Fain also worked with such sideshow legends as Skeleton Dude (Eddie Masher), the midget Princess Wee Wee (Harriet Elizabeth Thompson) and “the armless wonder” Charles B. Tripp, who signed souvenir photos in perfect penmanship with his feet.

People have always been curious about human oddities, and in those days it wasn’t politically incorrect to stare. And this was before America had much of a social safety net, so performing in sideshows and selling souvenir photos was a way for these special-needs people to make a living — sometimes a very good one.

So-called “freaks” were a big part of low-brow American entertainment from the early 1800s until as late as the 1960s. Petro’s collection includes a handbill from the 1836 North American tour of Eng and Chang Bunker, who inspired the term “Siamese twins.” They appeared in a dozen Kentucky towns, including Lexington.

Fain seems to have liked the traveling life of a seasonal circus manager, but his postcards indicate that it got harder each year to leave his wife, Ruth, and young son, White, back home in Lexington.

“How is Daddy’s little man?” Fain wrote to his son from Stamford, Conn. “Take good care of Mother until I get home.”

The Lexington Leader wrote a brief about Fain in 1908, saying he was on his way to New York’s Madison Square Garden for his fifth season with Barnum & Bailey. Fain was mentioned several times in entertainment industry magazines, such as The Player and The Billboard.

The Billboard’s last mention of him was on March 30, 1918, noting that Fain had left the circus business “and become interested in an enterprise in his hometown, Lexington, Ky.”

In December 1917, Barnum & Bailey executive Charles R. Hutchinson wrote a recommendation letter for Fain to the Chicago meatpacker Swift & Co., calling him “a man of education, refinement, of excellent presence and a gentleman at all times.”

Fain spent the rest of his working life as a Lexington-based salesman and manager for Swift, living at 217 Catalpa Road with his wife, son and daughter, Barbara. He retired in 1951 after 34 years with Swift and died in 1973 at age 86.

Fain’s Herald-Leader obituary mentioned his career with Swift, that he was a charter member and former treasurer of the Church of the Good Shepherd and that he belonged to the Oleika Temple Shrine and another Masonic lodge.

But it never mentioned that Fain had once traveled the country with midgets, giants and Zip the Pinhead during the heyday of The Greatest Show on Earth.

E.C. Fain of Lexington, who was assistant manager of the famous Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey annex, or side shows, during a decade with the circus is shown in the ticket booth in this undated photo from the early 1900s. Photo courtesy of Joe Petro III

E.C. Fain of Lexington, right in ticket booth, at the Barnum & Bailey Annex.


Fifth book about Louisville’s Bingham family is the most revealing

August 22, 2015

The disintegration of the Bingham family’s Louisville media dynasty in 1986 prompted no fewer than four books about patriarch Robert Worth Bingham and the two talented but troubled generations he left in his wake.

Each book was revealing, but the basics were well-known: ambitious politico loses his wife in a tragedy and remarries America’s richest widow, who soon dies mysteriously. With his inheritance, he buys a newspaper and influence, which includes the ambassadorship to Great Britain. The Courier-Journal becomes a great newspaper until squabbling among his grandchildren prompts its sale to a chain.

150823Bingham002AThe juicy secrets revealed in previous Bingham books are nothing compared to those in this fifth one, the second written by a family member.

Emily Bingham’s Irrepressible: The Jazz Age Life of Henrietta Bingham (Farrar, Straus and Giroux $28) is a thoroughly researched, well-written and frank biography of the great-aunt her elders never wanted to discuss.

Bingham, a Harvard graduate with a Ph.D. in history from the University of North Carolina, will talk about and sign her book at 3 p.m. Sunday at The Morris Book Shop, 882 East High Street.

Henrietta Bingham was intelligent, beautiful and seductive. But she was forever traumatized by witnessing her mother’s death when a commuter train hit their car, and she could never escape the emotional grip of her narcissistic father.

She also was bisexual. Her most intense relationships were with John Houseman, who later became a legendary film producer and Oscar-winning actor, and the 1930s tennis star Helen Jacobs.

Other lovers included three members of England’s famous Bloomsbury set: writer Mina Kirstein, painter Dora Carrington and sculptor Stephen Tomlin. Then there were the actresses: Hope Williams and, probably, Tallulah Bankhead. And, possibly, black musicians of both sexes in Harlem.

Henrietta spent the Jazz Age and Great Depression living high on daddy’s money. Had she been straight, she, rather than her younger brother Barry, would have inherited the family’s media empire.

Instead, she lived a life of leisure, attracting lovers then pushing them away. Her only real accomplishment was a late-in-life career as a Thoroughbred horse breeder.

Despite years of psychoanalysis with Ernest Jones, a famous protégé of Sigmund Freud, Henrietta could never escape her demons. She died in 1968 at age 68 from the effects of alcoholism and mental illness.

Emily Bingham, author of "Irrepressible: The Jazz Age life of Henrietta Bingham." Photo by Leslie Lyons

Emily Bingham. Photo by Leslie Lyons

After reading this book, I had to ask Emily Bingham: what did the family think of her unflinching book?

“My generation has just all been fascinated,” said Bingham, 50. “We had only heard these sort of negative stories. It’s as if this whole part of our family tree is alive instead of shriveled.”

Her mother, Edie Bingham, and aunts, Sallie Bingham and Eleanor Bingham Miller, the last survivors of their generation, passed along photographs and heirlooms and have been very supportive of the book, she said.

“But if my grandparents (Barry Bingham Sr. and his wife, Mary) had been living, this would have been hard to do,” she acknowledged.

“I think they were quite understanding, actually, about that part of Henrietta’s life,” she said. “They also were the ones who bore the brunt of being worried for her, and the shame that came with that. People couldn’t talk about mental health, either.”

Emily Bingham said that every day growing up at the Binghams’ Melcombe estate she saw a framed photograph of an octagonal barn at her great-aunt’s horse farm, now the Harmony Landing Country Club at Goshen.

“I just remember being told she was an accomplished horsewoman,” she said. “It would be the one thing they would say and then the conversation would end. I got the feeling that she was sort of not very interesting. And that was obviously wrong.”

In an interview with her grandmother before she died in 1995, Mary Bingham finally talked about Henrietta.

Only after Emily Bingham and her husband, Stephen Reily, named their daughter Henrietta, because they liked the old-fashioned name, did her startled father, the late Barry Bingham Jr., discuss his aunt, whom he called “a three-dollar bill.”

He told his daughter there might be a trunk of Henrietta’s stuff in the attic. There she discovered personal possessions and old clothes, including one of Jacobs’ monogrammed tennis outfits. Then she found another trunk stuffed with nearly 200 love letters to Henrietta from Houseman and Tomlin.

That trunk, stored for decades above her childhood bedroom, led her to search out archives containing the revealing letters, diaries and memoirs of her great-aunt’s friends and lovers.

But Henrietta’s own voice is largely missing from this biography; she left no diary, and fewer than a dozen letters. She seems to have destroyed most evidence of her homosexuality.

“This project was like putting together a broken mirror and knowing that you were only going to see bits of the person in the end,” the author said.

Bingham would love to know more about Henrietta’s passion for black music in the 1920s and her relationships with famous performers she knew. She wishes she could have “been on the couch with her” during psychoanalysis, especially to understand more about Henrietta’s complex relationship with her father.

And, in a life with so many passionate, complicated relationships, she said, “I would want to ask her, ‘Who did you really love?”

Bingham thinks her great-aunt’s alcoholism and mental illness were fueled in part by social pressure to keep her lesbian relationships secret. Her efforts to live a lie included a brief, failed marriage in 1954.

Henrietta’s life could have been much different had she lived today, her great-niece thinks. She could have enjoyed openly gay relationships and become more independent from her controlling father.

Bingham hopes readers come away with a desire to find out more about the gaps and silences in their own family histories.

“They don’t not matter because they haven’t been talked about,” she said. “Often, they are creating some of the reality you are living with; you just don’t know how they shaped it.”


Fraternity’s ‘second mom’ remembered for her cooking, love

August 18, 2015
Baby Cook Pic

Grace Cook in her kitchen of the Sigma Chi house at the University of Kentucky. Photo provided

 

Elinor Grace Cook took care of the brothers of Sigma Chi for three decades. After she retired in 1994, they spent the next two taking care of her.

About three dozen alumni of the University of Kentucky fraternity were in the crowd that nearly filled Consolidated Baptist Church on Monday to say goodbye to Cook, who died Aug. 11 at age 90.

Each fraternity brother placed a white rose atop the casket of the short black woman who cooked his college meals and did so much more.

They recalled how Cook’s unconditional love touched them and hundreds of other white fraternity boys. Decades later, she could remember their names — not that she ever used them. She called each of them Baby, and they called her Baby.

In a eulogy, Darryl Isaacs, a Louisville personal-injury lawyer famous for his “heavy hitter” TV commercials, said he first met Cook when he was a scared 18-year-old pledge having a bad day.

Isaacs said he put out his hand, “and she said, ‘We don’t give handshakes. We hug.’ She said, ‘I love you, Baby.'”

“I’ll never forget that,” said Isaac, who later introduced Cook to his parents as “my second mom.”

“She loved you whether you were white, black, rich, poor, fat, skinny,” Isaac said. “Of everybody I’ve ever met, there’s nobody that stands out like Baby.”

Elinor Grace "Baby" Cook cooked at UK's Sigma Chi fraternity house for 30 years and became a second mother to many of its members. She is shown in 2012 at a reunion with some of them. Photo provided

Cook in 2012 at a reunion.

Cook also was a legend at Consolidated Baptist. She was an active member for more than 80 years and the church’s culinary minister. She was in her kitchen, cooking, when she suffered the fall that put her in a hospital for the last time.

The Rev. Richard Gaines said Cook was mentally sharp and in good spirits to the end, complaining about hospital food and saying she was ready to meet her maker.

“She lived a powerful life,” Gerald Smith, a University of Kentucky history professor and minister who grew up in Consolidated Baptist, said in his eulogy. “Everybody’s got a story to tell, because she had this infectious as well as contagious kind of spirit.”

Cook used to joke that she would write a book about all that happened at the Sigma Chi house. The guys joked back that she would make more money if she let them pay her not to.

After she retired and her husband, William Edward Cook, died, the brothers realized she could use their help. She had a large family that eventually included two children, four grandchildren and 12 great-grandchildren.

Michael Dammert, an investment advisor in Covington who met Cook as a pledge in 1969, worked with Isaacs and others to organize the “Baby Fund” that alumni contributed to for 20 years. And they gave her more than money.

Jay Rodes, who met her in 1981, took her meals and kept her sidewalk salted each winter. His wife drove Cook to doctor appointments. Someone mentioned in a group email that she needed a railing outside her house; one appeared within days.

When UK’s largest fraternity moved to a bigger house in 2012, a plaque was placed in the new kitchen declaring it “Gracie’s Place” in honor of “Sigma Chi’s beloved cook and sage.”

The meals Cook prepared in the old house’s small, hot kitchen were amazing, the men said, leavened with plenty of butter and sugar. And she always had time to hear their troubles and secrets, and give them advice about girlfriends and life.

Cook wouldn’t put up with foolishness. A boy who once thought it would be funny to bring a rubber snake into her kitchen narrowly missed a rolling pin to the head.

“If you acted up, she made you come to Consolidated Baptist Church with her,” Dammert said. “I was on that list.”

“She had a cuss jar,” Ted Tudor recalled. “It was always full of money.”

As Consolidated Baptist’s pastor looked out over the crowd at Cook’s funeral, he saw her family and friends from church and the Radcliffe-Marlboro neighborhood. He also saw successful businessmen, prominent lawyers, a UK vice president.

“On most Sundays, you don’t see this kind of cultural diversity,” Gaines told the crowd. “But here we are on a Monday afternoon in church, and look at what God has done. Thank God for the lives she touched.”


Former EKU VP’s retirement job: piloting the Valley View Ferry

August 16, 2015
James Street looks out from the pilot house of the Valley View Ferry. Street has always loved boating and earned his maritime licenses, so since he retired as an Eastern Kentucky University vice president he has worked a few days a month piloting the ferry across the Kentucky River between Madison County and Fayette and Jessamine counties.  Photos by Tom Eblen

James Street looks out from the pilot house of the Valley View Ferry. Street has always loved boating and earned his maritime licenses, so since he retired as an Eastern Kentucky University vice president he has worked a few days a month piloting the ferry across the Kentucky River. Photos by Tom Eblen

 

VALLEY VIEW — Some executives dream of retiring to a big boat on a big body of water, and that is just what James Street did.

Since retiring as Eastern Kentucky University’s vice president for administration in July 2013, Street and his wife, Stacey, have spent a lot of time on their 34-foot Beneteau 331 sailboat on Kentucky Lake and their Catalina 22 on Cave Run.

But several days a month, Street pilots a less glamorous craft: the Valley View Ferry.

The ferry is a small tugboat lashed to a barge and tethered to an overhead cable. It goes back and forth across the Kentucky River more than 100 times a day, carrying a maximum of three vehicles between Tates Creek Road in Madison County and Tates Creek Road on the Fayette-Jessamine line.

Valley View, the last of dozens of ferries that once plied the river, is Kentucky’s oldest continuously operated enterprise — seven years older than the state itself. The ferry’s first owner, John Craig, got a charter in 1785 from Virginia’s governor, Patrick Henry.

The three counties bought the ferry from private owners in 1991 and operate it with local and state government funding. Passengers are a mix of tourists and commuters crossing to jobs in Lexington, Nicholasville and Richmond.

“I’ve always wanted to be a captain since I was a little kid,” said Street, 60, who got his first sailboat at age 19.

Street last year earned Coast Guard certification to pilot ferries and charter boats. So Roger Barger, a Madison County magistrate who pilots and manages the ferry, asked him to help when he could.

“Oddly enough, you still need a full license to pilot a boat on a rope,” Street said.

Piloting the ferry is a 14-hour workday — 12 hours of operation and an hour on either end for maintenance.

Usually, the pilot has help from a Madison or Jessamine jail trusty, who secures the barge to cleats on each shore’s ramp so cars can load and unload. But when a trusty isn’t available, the pilot does that in addition to running the boat and recording each car’s license information and number of occupants.

Piloting the ferry is very different from the fast-paced, high-pressure jobs Street had at EKU for two decades. And that is what he likes about it.

“I don’t miss answering the phone and email and text messages,” he said, noting that Valley View is a cellphone dead zone. “It’s a real change-up from what I did for most of my professional life.”

Before joining EKU, Street was Lexington’s commissioner of public works.

“I actually administered the purchase of this boat,” he said of the John Craig, which was filling in for a newer tug, the John Craig II, which was having mechanical trouble. “Talk about coming full circle.”

Street prefers chatting with ferry passengers to wrestling budgets, employees and deadlines. “I grew up in Madison County,” he said, “so I see people here I’ve known all my life.”

The free ferry carries 200 to 400 vehicles a day, operating 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. weekdays and 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. weekends. It often is shut down for days at a time because of high water in the spring and summer, and ice in the winter.

What Street enjoys most about this job is the beauty of Valley View. Some mornings, especially in the early fall, the river is shrouded in fog until the sun rises from surrounding hills to burn it off.

“I love getting down here and watching the dawn break,” he said. “There’s a subtle palette. The light is never the same; the mist is never the same.”

Between the morning and afternoon rushes, there are times when Street is alone on the river. He shuts off the tug’s noisy diesel engine and enjoys the silence.

“It’s so peaceful here,” he said, nodding toward a flock of geese swimming nearby with their goslings. “I enjoy watching the geese grow up.”

As the morning rush subsides, Street and I talk. He suddenly realizes it has been 10 minutes since his last trip. He steps into the pilot house and kills the engine — just as a car appears across the river looking for a ride.

“Almost had some silence,” he said with a sigh as he restarted the engine.

James Street piloted the Valley View Ferry across the Kentucky River for Madison County commuters on their way to Lexington before sunrise on Aug. 7.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Street piloted the Valley View Ferry across the Kentucky River for Madison County commuters on their way to Lexington before sunrise on Aug. 7.

James Street looks out from the pilot house of the Valley View Ferry. Street has always loved boating and earned his maritime licenses, so since he retired as an Eastern Kentucky University vice president he has worked a few days a month piloting the ferry across the Kentucky River between Madison County and Fayette and Jessamine counties.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Street looks out from the pilot house of the Valley View Ferry.

When James Street, a former Eastern Kentucky University vice president, pilots the Valley View Ferry, he usually has help from a prisoner trusty from Madison County. When they are unavailable, he must do everything, from piloting the boat to helping vehicles on and off.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

When Street pilots the ferry, he usually has help from a jail trusty. When one is not available, he must do everything, from piloting the boat to helping vehicles on and off.

Valley View Ferry pilot James Street waved to a friend driving onto the ferry. He grew up in Madison County, where he retired last year as a vice president at Eastern Kentucky University, so he knows many of the patrons.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Street waved to a friend driving onto the ferry. He grew up in Madison County,  so he knows many of the regular passenger.

When James Street, a former Eastern Kentucky University vice president, pilots the Valley View Ferry, he usually has help from a prisoner trusty from Madison County. When they are unavailable, he must do everything, from piloting the boat to helping vehicles on and off.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Street secures a safety rope on the ferry between trips.

While piloting the Valley View Ferry, James Street records the license information of vehicles that use the free service across the Kentucky River between Madison County and Fayette and Jessamine counties. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Street records the license information of vehicles that use the free service across the Kentucky River.


Faced with old age and death, psychologist never stopped living

August 15, 2015
Else Kessler Bolotin is shown in early July in Quebec, Canada, where she spent a long weekend with her two sons. She died Aug. 8 at age 88 after impressing friends and family with her approach to life ÑÊand death. Photo by Glenn Kessler

Else Kessler Bolotin is shown in early July in Quebec, Canada, where she spent a long weekend with her two sons and their families. Photo by Glenn Kessler

 

Else Kessler Bolotin, who died peacefully at her Lexington apartment Aug. 8 at the age of 88, lived a life worth reading about.

She survived the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands and immigrated to the United States in 1954 with her husband, chemical engineer Adriaan Kessler. She earned a Ph.D. in psychology from the University of Cincinnati.

After they divorced, she married real estate broker David Bolotin and moved to Lexington with her three children. From 1975 to 1986, she and Allie Hendricks ran a counseling service called Women Inc. They helped Lexington women in that era of feminist awakening confront a society dominated by men.

But what family and friends talked about last week were Bolotin’s final years — the way she embraced life, stayed current, made new friends and refused to let a terminal disease stop her from living life to its fullest.

Medical science has made great progress. More people are living well into their 80s and beyond. But this often creates dilemmas. How do elderly people remain happy and fulfilled? How do they choose between length of life and quality of life?

I never met Bolotin, but I got to know her son, Glenn Kessler, 25 years ago in New York when we were covering the Eastern Airlines bankruptcy. He now writes the Washington Post’s popular Fact Checker blog, where he rates the accuracy of politicians’ statements using a scale of “Pinocchios”.

Kessler said his mother died the way she always lived: fully engaged.

“She had this remarkable ability of always being interested in people and things,” he said. “She was never afraid of anything new. She was very open-minded.”

In 1986, Bolotin and her husband moved to Seattle because they went on vacation there and thought it would be an interesting place to live. She started a new psychology practice and often testified as an expert witness in gender discrimination cases.

The couple later moved to Chapel Hill, N.C. When her husband died in 2012, Bolotin returned to Lexington to be near her daughter, Sylvia Boggs.

After living in a “seniors” community in North Carolina, Bolotin wanted no part of one in Lexington. She chose an apartment in the Beaumont area in a complex popular with immigrant professionals and families with children.

“As soon as she came to Lexington, she joined a book club and a health club and a mahjong group,” Kessler said. “She met people here and she met people there.”

At book club, Bolotin met Roz Heise, a retired social worker. They connected despite a 16-year age difference.

“We had so much in common in our professional lives, the way we thought about things, politics and theater,” Heise said. “We saw each other all the time.”

Heise organizes volunteers for the WoodSongs Old-Time Radio Hour at the Lyric Theatre each Monday night. Bolotin attended almost every show.

Two years ago, Bolotin was diagnosed with malignant melanoma, which had already spread to her lungs and lymph nodes.

“It was very difficult to treat, but they definitely could have done chemotherapy and things like that to control the growth of cancer,” Kessler said. “But her attitude was that’s not how I want to live the last years of my life.”

Bolotin’s views were influenced by her second husband’s lingering death after heart surgery, as well as Dutch attitudes about euthanasia. Rather than seek to prolong her life at all cost, she made the most of the time she had.

Bolotin was especially excited about spending the July 4 weekend with Kessler, her other son, Marc, and their families in Quebec City, Canada. When her doctor advised against the trip, she told him she was going anyway. She never seemed in pain, Kessler said. When asked, she said she felt fine and changed the subject.

Kessler took a picture of his mother at a Quebec restaurant, dressed up and smiling with a raised glass of wine. But the trip weakened her. Doctors put her on oxygen and she insisted on a portable oxygen tank so she wouldn’t be confined to her apartment.

The week she died, Bolotin went to book club on Tuesday and lunched with friends on Wednesday. Heise brought pizza and ice cream to her apartment Thursday night so they and another friend could watch the GOP presidential debate together.

“Else was running commentary the whole time, completely involved in the debate,” Heise said. “She was a politics junkie and a committed Democrat and kept up to the minute with what was going on.”

When the debate ended, her friends went home because it was late. Bolotin stayed up to watch Jon Stewart’s last night as host of The Daily Show. On Friday, Bolotin went to her mahjong group and won three games. The next morning, she died.

“She would often tell me, ‘You know, Roz, I don’t understand people in this country; they won’t talk about death,'” Heise said. “They pretend it’s not going to happen. But dying is a part of living.”

Bolotin was always reading, watching TV, listening to public radio and music, surfing the Internet, going to the theater, lunching with friends.

“My mother was, like, crazy on Facebook and caught up on all the latest technology, in part to keep up with and engage with her grandkids,” Kessler said.

Kessler’s son, Andre, recently became a software engineer for SpaceX, the space exploration company started by entrepreneur Elon Musk. “She went out and bought a biography of Elon Musk so she could read about it and have a conversation with her grandson,” he said.

“She was just interested in people and she didn’t want to have that spoiled by having to constantly go for cancer treatments,” he said.

The lesson Kessler, 56, learned from his mother’s last years is that it is “really important that you not act like you’re old. I look at how many friends my mother made in just the last couple of years and I feel like I’ve got to step up my game.”


CentrePointe deal looks promising, but city must scrutinize details

August 11, 2015
CentrePointe

CentrePointe is bounded by Main, Limestone, Upper and Vine Streets. Photo by Charles Bertram.

 

At first blush, this deal would appear to have the potential to write a dream ending for Lexington’s biggest downtown development nightmare.

Two young men with finance and development experience and access to big money say they are taking over CentrePointe, the mixed use project that after seven years of false starts is nothing more than a giant hole in the center of the city.

But due diligence is needed, because dreams often don’t come true.

Investor Matt Collins and Atit Jariwala, who heads the New York development firm Bridgeton Holdings, seem to be saying all the right things to try to turn this disaster of a project into a civic asset.

Collins said he and his family aren’t just invested in CentrePointe; they have an agreement to take over the project. (I’m holding my breath until all of the papers are signed.)

Property owner Joe Rosenberg and Dudley Webb, the previous developer, will no longer have control or decision-making roles, Collins said. They will only be minority equity partners, reflecting the current value of their investments.

“We’re calling the shots,” Collins said.

Collins and Jariwala also are thinking about renaming the development, since CentrePointe and its pretentious spelling carries a lot of baggage. Good idea.

The partners said they want to make this project a landmark, an iconic piece of architecture, but one that looks like it belongs in Lexington. Another good idea.

This was one of Webb’s mistakes. He had a chance for great architecture with the design developed by Studio Gang of Chicago and later adapted by Lexington’s EOP Architects. But Webb’s sixth and latest version of CentrePointe’s design was barely better than his first three attempts, which were generic and forgettable.

I hope, though, that Collins and Jariwala won’t limit their vision to a look that mimics Lexington’s historic buildings. To be a landmark, a contemporary structure needs to be contemporary, not a riff on architectural history.

Collins and Jariwala said they plan to stay with plans for an underground garage, hotel, apartments, shops and restaurants. But rather than a commercial office tower, they want a new government center, which the city would lease.

Lexington needs a new government center to replace the old Lafayette Hotel building, which badly needs renovation and would be better suited for a hotel, condos or apartments.

City officials have been exploring the idea of selling the old hotel and constructing a new government center on city-owned land downtown. Would it make sense to lease from a private developer instead? Maybe, if the numbers work.

With Webb essentially out of the picture, there is no political reason not to consider incorporating city hall into this development. But Collins and Jariwala will have to negotiate a long-term lease that makes financial sense for taxpayers.

Mayor Jim Gray and the Urban County Council will have to look closely at those numbers, and at something else: Collins and Jariwala said they may want the city to guarantee $25 million in tax-increment financing bonds to build the garage.

City officials weren’t willing to guarantee those bonds for Webb, viewing the risk as too great. If these men want the city to do it for them, they will have to make a case that they are a better risk and structure a deal that protects taxpayers.

After several years of work in banking and international development, Collins said he moved to Lexington two years ago to attend law school at the University of Kentucky. When he finishes school, Collins said he wants to make his home in Lexington, where his Frankfort-born father, international financier Tim Collins, spent part of his childhood.

I think local ties are important. I agree with Collins’ belief that Lexington has a lot of untapped potential, and that it needs a more vibrant downtown to achieve it. I also agree that a landmark building on the CentrePointe block would be a catalyst.

CentrePointe doesn’t just need new financing — it needs new vision, talent and leadership. I am hopeful that Collins and Jariwala can offer that. But city officials must evaluate this deal and its many complexities with open eyes and a clear head.

The big mistake Lexington leaders made seven years ago when CentrePointe was announced was to take everything Webb said at face value. We can’t afford to make that mistake again.


Ignore political scare tactics; EPA’s Clean Power Plan will be good for Kentucky in the long run

August 9, 2015

Here’s some advice for Kentucky politicians freaking out about the Environmental Protection Agency’s new Clean Power Plan: Calm down, take a deep breath and face reality.

On second thought, maybe they shouldn’t take that deep breath. Kentucky has some of America’s dirtiest air, and most of that pollution comes from the coal-fired power plants those politicians are trying to protect.

Kentucky leads the nation in toxic air pollution from power plants, according to a 2012 study by the Natural Resources Defense Council. Those plants also are the main source of man-made greenhouse gasses that are causing climate change.

The Clean Power Plan, unveiled in final form last week, is the Obama administration’s better-late-than-never attempt to fight climate change. Its goal is to cut carbon dioxide emissions from the nation’s power plants by 32 percent from 2012 levels by 2030. That is tougher than the 30 percent in an initial proposal, but states would be given more flexibility and two additional years to meet their targets.

Still, the EPA’s goal is modest by international standards. Many European nations have pledged to do more, and scientific studies show carbon emissions must be cut dramatically if the world hopes to curb the disastrous effects of climate change.

Despite the politicians’ howling, Kentucky was on track to meet its initial EPA target of an 18 percent cut in carbon emissions. That’s because utilities already were planning to phase out old coal plants or convert them to natural gas to save money.

The final plan calls for Kentucky to cut emissions by nearly 30 percent — a tougher goal, but still one of the least-stringent among the states. In addition to phasing out coal-fired power plants, Kentucky can meet its target by adding more renewable power sources and improving the energy efficiency of buildings, two areas where it lags behind many other states.

As with previous environmental rules, segments of corporate America and the politicians they sponsor are fighting back.

Kentucky is one of 16 states suing to block the Clean Power Plan, with Attorney General Jack Conway taking a lead. Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell has urged states to simply ignore the EPA’s requirement to submit a compliance plan — and risk having one imposed on them if the new rules are upheld in court.

It is no coincidence that Kentucky, West Virginia and other states leading opposition to these rules are places where the coal industry dominates the economy or politics, or where energy-intensive manufacturers have long enjoyed cheap electricity subsidized by damage to the environment and public health.

It will be up to the federal courts to decide whether the EPA’s modest and long-overdue plan to cut carbon emissions, clean the air and water, and improve public health will take effect next year.

But Kentuckians should ignore the scare tactics of politicians, who know they must toe the coal industry’s line if they want to get campaign contributions and votes.

The EPA’s Clean Power Plan won’t ruin the economy or “kill jobs.” It will require some difficult transition. But a number of studies predict that, in the long run, the move toward cleaner, renewable power will create a stronger economy with more jobs. At least for those states that embrace inevitable change rather than fight it.

Think about it: Since environmental laws first were enacted 40 years ago, each new regulation, from cutting automobile emissions to curbing acid rain, has been met with corporate and political opposition and dire predictions of economic disaster.

Those predictions have never come true. In fact, just the opposite. That is because environmental regulations have stimulated innovation, creating jobs and growing the economy. Since 1970, air pollution nationwide has been cut by 70 percent and the size of the U.S. economy has tripled.

Regardless of your views on climate change, cleaner air and water mean a better quality of life, a stronger work force and better public health. Those are not small issues in a state like Kentucky, which has some of the nation’s highest cancer and asthma rates.

Kentucky and its leaders have a simple choice. They can cling to the past and fight a losing battle to preserve pollution. Or they can face reality and realize that change is inevitable, pollution is unhealthy, global warming is a threat, renewable energy is the future, and innovation will create a stronger economy.


Lexington police chief’s 1962 essay about race relations teaches lessons some have yet to learn

August 9, 2015
President Dwight D. Eisenhower shook hands with Lexington police Chief E.C. Hale on Oct. 1, 1956, while in Lexington as part of his re-election campaign. Hale, police chief from 1953 to 1972, was credited with helping to keep racial tensions in the city from turning violent. Herald-Leader Photo

President Dwight D. Eisenhower shook hands with Lexington police Chief E.C. Hale on Oct. 1, 1956, while in Lexington as part of his re-election campaign. Hale, police chief from 1953 to 1972, was credited with helping to keep racial tensions in the city from turning violent. Herald-Leader Photo

 

J.D. Hale of Lexington called me the other day. Like most of us, he was disturbed by recent incidents of white police officers shooting unarmed black people.

The killing of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Mo., a year ago Sunday focused national attention on the uneasy relationship between many black communities and the police. There have been more shootings since Ferguson, including that of Samuel DuBose in Cincinnati last month.

These tragedies prompted Hale to recall a widely published essay that his father, E.C. Hale, wrote in 1962. One magazine headlined it: “A Southern police chief explains why racism hurts law enforcement.”

E.C. Hale served as Lexington’s police chief from 1953 to 1972 after 21 years in the ranks. His 1974 obituary credited him with making the force more professional. Under Hale’s no-nonsense leadership, Lexington became a national model for police training, procedures, record-keeping and community relations.

As the 1960s began, segregated Lexington had some of the South’s first civil rights demonstrations. They did not become well-known, in part because this newspaper’s management policy was to ignore them.

But perhaps the biggest reason Lexington’s marches and lunch counter sit-ins did not attract national attention was that they did not turn violent. A big reason for that was Hale’s leadership of the police and his good working relationship with local civil rights leaders.

Hale said his goal was to enforce the law while treating everyone with firmness, fairness and respect. For example, he said an in interview in the late 1960s, there was a vigil outside the Fayette County Courthouse in 1963 to protest the racist church bombing in Birmingham, Ala., that killed four girls. As participants knelt in prayer, a white man ran out of a crowd of bystanders and slapped one of them. Within seconds, he was arrested and hauled off to jail.

“It could have been a model for other communities in the South,” said Yvonne Giles, an authority on Lexington’s black history. “But it didn’t happen that way.”

After talking with Hale’s son, I went online to look for the essay. I found it in the May 1962 edition of Negro Digest, a popular magazine similar to Readers Digest that was renamed Black World before it ceased publication in 1976.

“The Negro has had good reason to look with suspicion and fear upon the uniformed officer,” Hale wrote. “The effect of wrongful treatment will cause Negroes to carry over the memories of their past experience to the detriment of the whole community.”

Here are a few other excerpts:

“Firmness does not mean belligerence. The former is characteristic of good policing, and the latter is characteristic of bad policing.”

“Equal justice is not merely a term. The police officer who is tempted to vary his role according to personal notions as to the worth of various groups is himself in violation of the law. An officer has a capacity for delivering equal justice only to the extent that he has this problem under control.”

“The entire police force suffers as a result of the brutal measures of an individual officer. The true victims of police brutality are the police themselves, since it develops widespread hostility and disrespect for law among the members of the minority group.”

“A good standard of fairness would be treatment of the individuals in the same manner as the police officer would desire to be treated if he were the individual and the other party the police officer.”

“A good reputation for fairness in dealing with the public is an invaluable asset to a police department because it instills public confidence, making police work more pleasant and effective.”

Of course, neither Hale nor the city he served was perfect.

Hale ruled Lexington’s police force with an iron hand. In the late 1960s, he called efforts to create a citizens review board for his department a “communist plot.” When Vietnam War protesters complained about police tactics, he said, “I’m not going to be pushed around by these long-haired, fuzzy-face people.”

Lexington had no shortage of racial tension, and it finally exploded in October 1994, when a police sergeant accidently shot Tony Sullivan, an unarmed homicide suspect.

Lexington got its first black police chief in 2001 with the promotion of Anthany Beatty, a widely respected leader who since retirement has run for mayor and headed security at the University of Kentucky. His successors, Ronnie Bastin and Mark Barnard, have made community relations a priority, and it has paid off.

Hale’s 1962 essay, which was controversial among many whites at the time, strikes most of us now as common sense. But it is a common sense still lacking among some police officers and some police forces.

“I hadn’t read the thing in years,” J.D. Hale said. “But when I did, it struck me that a lot of these problems we’re having now could have been avoided if more people had listened to what he said back then.”

Read Hale’s full essay by clicking here.

 


If CentrePointe developer can’t get investor, city should get tough

August 4, 2015
Not much has changed at CentrePointe since this photo was taken Jan. 27, except that weeds have grown up along the pit's walls. Photo by Tom Eblen

Not much has changed at CentrePointe since this photo was taken Jan. 27, except that weeds have grown up along the pit’s walls. Photo by Tom Eblen

 

Ninety days ago, city officials gave developer Dudley Webb 90 days to try to make a deal with an unidentified investor to rescue his long-stalled CentrePointe project.

Unlike previous unidentified investors, city officials know who this one is, and Mayor Jim Gray says he has the necessary deep pockets.

But here’s the question: Will Webb be willing to take a financial hit to get a bailout? He is hardly in a strong negotiating position after more than seven years of false starts and mounting expenses.

Webb couldn’t be reached for comment Tuesday.

“We don’t really have any news to report right now,” said Mason Miller, an attorney representing the city on CentrePointe. “I suspect by later this week we should know more.”

Webb unveiled plans for CentrePointe in March 2008: a massive skyscraper complex with a Marriott hotel, luxury condos, offices, glitzy restaurants and shops.

Most city officials were dazzled, with the notable exception of then-Vice Mayor Gray, a veteran construction executive. The city allowed Webb to demolish an entire downtown block on no more than promises.

Preservationists were outraged at the loss of historic buildings, several of which were supposed to have been protected by the city. Architects were appalled by Webb’s design, a throwback to generic 1980s architecture that had no relationship to the city around it.

Real estate and hotel experts questioned Webb’s business plan. Details of his financing were sketchy, including a hard-to-believe story about an unidentified foreign investor who died without a will.

Under pressure from city officials, the empty block was planted with grass, creating a pasture that became popular for city festivals. As he searched for financing, Webb toyed with better designs from respected architects, then chose mediocrity.

Nearly two years ago, Webb claimed he had enough capital to excavate the pasture for the first step of his project, a three-story underground parking garage. A skeptical city government agreed to let him dig, but only if he pledged $4.4 million to restore the site if he ran out of money and work stopped. That’s just what happened more than a year ago.

CentrePointe is now CentrePit — a block-square hole in the heart of Lexington. In December, Webb brought in two tower cranes, indicating work might begin. But the cranes have done no work on CentrePointe. They and weeds are all that have risen from the pit.

In April, city officials sent Webb a default notice and threatened to begin foreclosure. A week later, he began talks with the potential investor. City officials gave him 90 days to make a deal. That time is now up.

If Webb makes a deal, we can only hope the investor insists on a better design and business plan.

It doesn’t take a genius to look around Lexington and see what has succeeded while CentrePointe languished: modestly scaled businesses in creatively renovated buildings that speak to Lexington’s history and culture. If Webb hadn’t been so hasty with the wrecking ball, a good architect could have combined old and new to create an attractive, successful development on the CentrePointe block.

Real estate experts say there is demand for first-class office space, high-end rental apartments and perhaps an extended-stay hotel downtown. But a third convention hotel several blocks from the convention center makes no more sense now than it did in 2008.

As people keep pointing out, Lexington needs a new city hall. The current one, in the old Lafayette Hotel building, is long overdue for renovation and would be better suited for a hotel or condos. But I sense little political appetite for building a new city hall at CentrePointe as long as Webb is the developer. A skeptical public would view that as rewarding bad behavior.

If Webb doesn’t strike a deal with this investor, what happens then?

I think city officials should play hardball. Begin foreclosure. Explore options for condemning the block as a public nuisance. That would surely spark a court battle, but it also might prompt Webb to get realistic about a private equity bailout.

It has been painfully obvious for too many years that Webb is in over his head with CentrePointe. But that doesn’t mean Lexington should let his folly continue to suck life out of the downtown renaissance occurring all around it.


For rare coin dealer, ‘every day is almost like Antiques Road Show’

August 2, 2015

When Jeff Garrett was about 12 years old, he was given an album so he could start collecting Lincoln head pennies. But unlike many other boys in the 1970s, he never stopped.

His hobby became a passion, then a business. For more than 30 years, Garrett has owned one of the nation’s largest dealerships, Mid-American Rare Coin Galleries in Lexington.

“I love the thrill of the chase,” he said. “When I finished that first album, I wanted to do another album. When I start something I just get obsessed by it.”

Garrett, 57, is the author of many books about rare coins. He is on the advisory board of the Smithsonian Institution’s Museum of American History, where he helped organize the rare coin exhibit that opened in July. On Aug. 12, he will begin a two-year term as president of the American Numismatic Association, the nation’s largest organization of coin collectors with about 25,000 members.

“I’ve been lucky,” he said. “I’ve been able to turn a hobby into a living.”

garrettThe ANA presidency is an unpaid job that comes with a lot of responsibility: the 124-year-old organization has a $6 million annual budget and more than 30 employees. Its mission is numismatic education and promoting the hobby.

Garrett said he is proud to head the organization responsible for his first airplane trip. As a boy, he won a scholarship to an ANA summer seminar in Colorado Springs, the organization’s headquarters.

“That really helped jump-start my interest in coins,” he said, adding that the organization gives away 50 seminar scholarships each year to young collectors.

His main goal as ANA president is to bring more young people into the hobby — and bring back “dormant” collectors who lost interest or got busy with other things.

When Garrett was growing up in Florida, there were several local coin shops, and their owners became his mentors. By age 17, he was a full-time dealer.

“By the time I was 19 or 20, I owned part of the biggest (coin) company in Florida,” he said. “I just had a knack for it.”

Garrett’s interest also was fueled by a Florida coin-collecting club. That prompted him to help start the Bluegrass Coin Club in 1994. It meets at 6:30 p.m. on the third Monday of each month at Joseph-Beth Booksellers. More information: Bluegrasscoinclub.com.

As a young man, Garrett became friends with Jonathan Kern, who has been a rare coin dealer in Lexington for decades. “I had a blind date with his sister-in-law,” Garrett said. They married and settled in Lexington.

“Lexington is a great place to live,” he said. “And because I travel to big cities a lot, it’s a great place to come home to.”

Much of Garrett’s work is buying and selling coins with other dealers around the country and doing appraisals.

“Sometimes a rare coin might show up that hasn’t been around for 20 years and you’ve got to do some research and find out how really rare it is,” he said. “It’s one of the things I love about my business. Every day is almost like an Antiques Road Show.”

Garrett specializes in American gold coins, which were made from 1795 until 1933. They are rare because, during the Great Depression, federal officials urged people to turn them in so they could be melted into bars and stored at Fort Knox.

“That gold would be worth a whole lot more if they had just put the coins in bags and stashed them away,” he said.

Garrett made international headlines in 2013 when, on behalf of a client, he paid more than $3 million for a 1913 Liberty nickel, one of five made by a rogue mint employee. It was once owned by an heir of Hetty Green, the infamous “Witch of Wall Street,” and later belonged to a collector who died in a car wreck. The nickel went missing for decades amid speculation that it was a fake.

“What makes really rare coins expensive are the stories attached to them,” he said. “The better a story a coin has, the more desirable it is.”

Precious metal prices rise and fall, but the value of rare coins has remained steady.

“I don’t encourage people to buy coins as an investment,” Garrett said. “I encourage people to collect coins. And if you collect coins, I think they’ll become a good investment. It’s like anything: you need to understand what you’re buying. Do it at your own pace and enjoy the journey.”


Readers suggest many Lexington historic figures worthy of honoring

August 1, 2015
coloredtroops

Some readers suggested a monument to blacks who fought for the Union during the Civil War, many of whom were trained at Camp Nelson in Jessamine County.

 

Public art starts conversations, and the debate over two statues of local Confederate heroes has started some great discussions about other figures from Lexington’s history who are worthy of honor and remembrance.

I mentioned several in a column three weeks ago and I asked readers for more. I got many good suggestions, including Mary Todd Lincoln, artist Matthew Jouett and John Bradford, an early Lexington publisher, education advocate and civic leader.

I especially liked the suggestions I received for honoring notable black men and women from the past whose accomplishments against great odds have often been overlooked.

Yvonne Giles, an authority on local black history, liked my suggestion of Mary E. Britton (1855-1925), the city’s first black woman physician. Britton also was a journalist, teacher, social reformer and civil rights activist.

Julia Britton Hooks

Julia Britton Hooks

Giles noted that Britton’s sister, Julia Britton Hooks (1852-1942), was equally deserving. Like her sister a graduate of Berea College, she became Berea’s first black faculty member, teaching instrumental music. She later moved to Memphis, married Charles Hooks and opened a music school. Blues legend W.C. Handy was among her students. Selma Lewis wrote a 1986 biography of Hooks, The Angel of Beale Street.

In 1909, Hooks became a charter member of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People — an organization led by her grandson, Benjamin Hooks, from 1977 to 1992.

Their brother, Tom Britton (1870-1901), was a successful jockey. Lexington has recently honored two great black jockeys, Isaac Murphy (1861-1896) with a park and Oliver Lewis (1856-1924) with a street.

Another great black jockey worthy of honor is Jimmy Winkfield (1882-1974), whose fascinating life story was chronicled in the 2006 book Black Maestro, by New York Times racing writer Joe Drape.

Giles suggested several accomplished black women from Lexington’s past, including E. Belle Jackson (1848-1942), who led creation of the Colored Orphan Industrial Home, now the Robert H. Williams Cultural Center on Georgetown Street.

Charlotte Dupuy (1787-after 1866) was a slave owned by Henry Clay. She sued him for her freedom in 1829, when they were living in Washington, D.C. and he was secretary of state. The gutsy Dupuy lost her legal case, but Clay eventually freed her.

Giles also suggested “Aunt Charlotte,” whose full name and years of life are unknown. She came to Lexington as a slave in the late 1700s and became free when her owners died. She sold baked goods at the public market. She is best known for buying the one-year vagrancy indenture of a white man, William “King” Solomon, in 1833 and setting him free. He was a drunk who soon became a local hero for burying victims of cholera epidemic.

Several black women educators are worthy of honor, Giles said. Among them: Elizabeth Cook Fouse (1875-1952), founder of the Phillis Wheatley YWCA in Lexington; and Fannie Hathaway White (1870-1958), a longtime teacher, principal and education advocate.

White was the sister of Isaac S. Hathaway (1872-1967) a sculptor who was the first black man to design a U.S. coin. He created images for the Booker T. Washington and George Washington Carver half dollars.

Several readers suggested balancing Confederate Gen. John Hunt Morgan’s statue outside the old courthouse with a monument honoring black Union soldiers, who trained at Camp Nelson and fought in all combat branches during the Civil War.

Garrett Morgan

Garrett Morgan

Rab Hagin, a Lexington journalist, suggested several of those soldiers whose quotes would be appropriate for a monument, including this one from Sgt. Maj. Thomas Boswell of the 116th U.S. Colored Infantry: “We are Kentucky boys, and there is no regiment in the field that ever fought better.”

Several readers suggested Charles Young (1864-1922), who was born into slavery near Maysville, became the third black graduate of West Point and the first black Army colonel. He likely would have become a general were it not for racism among his fellow officers. A community center on East Third Street is named for him.

I have always thought Thomas Hunt Morgan, one of the most influential American scientists of the 20th century, was more worthy of a statue than his Confederate uncle. But there also is black man worth considering, whose father was one of the general’s slaves — and may also have been his son.

Garrett A. Morgan (1877-1963) was an inventor and entrepreneur who created and marketed a smoke-protection safety hood for firefighters that saved many lives and a chemical solution for straightening hair. He also designed an unsuccessful version of an early traffic signal.


‘Dead Poets’ journey leads to grave of murdered Lexington poet

July 28, 2015
Walter Skold of Freeport, Maine, who driven his white Dodge "Poe Mobile" to 46 states over the past six years visiting the graves of more than 500 poets, uses his iPhone to look up lines from poet William Wordsworth carved on the headstone of Robert Charles O'Hara Benjamin, a black lawyer, activist and poet who was shot in the back in Lexington in 1900 while trying to register blacks to vote. His grave is in African Cemetery No. 2 on East Seventh Street.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Walter Skold of Freeport, Maine, who has driven his white Dodge “Poe Mobile” to 46 states over the past six years visiting the graves of more than 500 poets, uses his iPhone to look up lines from poet William Wordsworth carved on the headstone of Robert Charles O’Hara Benjamin, a black lawyer, activist and poet who was shot in the back in Lexington in 1900 while trying to register blacks to vote. His grave is in African Cemetery No. 2 on East Seventh Street. Photos by Tom Eblen

 

When Walter Skold quit his teaching job to write poetry, he didn’t know that his personal journey would become as literal as it was metaphorical.

While studying at The Frost Place, an educational center on poet Robert Frost’s farm in New Hampshire, former state poet laureate Patricia Fargnoli read her poem, “Visiting Frost’s Grave.”

“I had just visited his grave, and it and her poem intrigued me,” said Skold, 54, who lives in Freeport, Maine. “On a whim, I started researching poets’ graves and I was just completely fascinated by the uniqueness of them — their design, their epitaphs. It turned into this sort of pilgrimage.”

He is now six years into that pilgrimage, having driven his “Poe Mobile” van on four major road trips to visit the graves of more than 520 poets in 46 states.

Skold, a former journalist, takes photos and videotape for a planned book and documentary film. He also promotes his idea for a new national holiday: Dead Poets Remembrance Day on Oct. 7, the day in 1849 when Edgar Allan Poe died and James Whitcomb Riley was born.

I met Skold Tuesday at African Cemetery No. 2 on East Seventh Street. He had come to visit the grave of Robert Charles O’Hara Benjamin, a black poet, lawyer, newspaper editor, minister and activist who suffered a tragic death.

Robert_Charles_OHara_BenjaminBorn in 1855 on the Caribbean island of St. Kitts, Benjamin first came to Kentucky in 1879, possibly to teach school. Then he moved around the country, practicing law in California and Rhode Island and becoming a minister in the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church.

Benjamin moved to Lexington in 1897, got involved in politics and edited The Standard, a black newspaper. He wrote books, pamphlets and poetry and became involved in early civil rights struggles.

On Oct. 2, 1900, Benjamin got into an argument with white precinct worker Mike Moynahan, who was challenging blacks trying to register to vote. Moynahan followed Benjamin outside and shot him in the back at the corner of Spring and Water Streets. An inquest ruled it justifiable homicide.

“I had never heard of Benjamin,” he said. “But I was so amazed when I came across his story.”

Skold examined a marble monument that a fraternal organization erected at Benjamin’s grave on the 10th anniversary of his death. And he read aloud the faded epitaph, an 1834 poem by William Wordsworth: “Small service is true service while it lasts; Of friends, however humble, scorn not one: The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, protects the lingering dew drop from the sun.”

Skold placed at the base of the monument a pebble from Mount Parnassus, Greece, which ancient Greeks believed to be the home of the Muses. Then he poured a bit of Cognac on the grave, from a bottle almost empty from moistening the graves of dead poets throughout the South over the past seven weeks.

After taking photographs and video, Skold was off to Lexington Cemetery to visit the graves of two more forgotten poets, James Thomas Cotton Noe and Catherine Ann Warfield. I suggested he also look up writer James Lane Allen while he was there.

Skold had already spent seven days traveling around Kentucky in the Dodge van he calls the Poe Mobile. “It’s a big part of my shtick,” he said, pointing to the Maine license plate that says, “Dedgar.”

The van is a conversation-starter, and for Skold, this pilgrimage is mostly about starting conversations.

“Every day I learn so much, just from meeting people, friends and family of dead poets, archivists, other poets,” he said. “It’s like a journey of discovery.”

This is Skold’s third trip to Lexington, which he said has “a special place in my heart.” On his first trip, in 2009, the Poe Mobile broke down. He spent a few days in Lexington and got to know poet Eric Sutherland, who introduced him around.

On this trip, he met several more living poets, including Mary Ann Taylor-Hall, Jeff Worley and Richard Taylor. Skold’s next stop is the annual writers’ workshop at Hindman Settlement School to meet even more.

“This whole project seems a little weird, even to me, but what has really kept me going is people’s responses, their enthusiasm for my project,” he said.

Skold thinks most people understand the value of poets, and why it is important to remember them long after they are gone.

“They speak to the deepest beliefs and questions and concerns of the people they write among,” he said, citing as an example the beloved Kentucky poet Jesse Stuart, who died in 1984. “By reading him, I can enter into the culture and history of Kentucky.”

Walter Skold, whose project is called the Dead Poets Society of America, has spent six years traveling in a Dodge van to the graves of more than 500 poets in 46 states. The license plate from his home state of Maine is in honor of "Dead Edgar", the writer Edgar Allen Poe.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Skold’s Dodge van honors Edgar Allen Poe.

Walter Skold of Freeport, Maine, who driven his white Dodge "Poe Mobile" to 46 states over the past six years visiting the graves of more than 500 poets, poured a bit of ceremonial Cognac on the grave of Robert Charles O'Hara Benjamin, a black lawyer, activist and poet who was shot in the back in Lexington in 1900 while trying to register blacks to vote. His grave is in African Cemetery No. 2 on East Seventh Street.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Skold poured a bit of ceremonial Cognac on the grave of Robert Charles O’Hara Benjamin, a black lawyer, activist and poet who was shot in the back in Lexington in 1900 while trying to register blacks to vote

Walter Skold, who has traveled to 46 states over the past six years visiting the graves of more than 500 poets, read a quote from the English poet Robert Wordsworth on the tombstone of Robert Charles O'Hara Benjamin, a black lawyer, activist and poet who was shot in the back in Lexington in 1900 while trying to register blacks to vote. He is buried at African Cemetery No. 2 on East Seventh Street.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Skold read a quote from the English poet William Wordsworth on Benjamin’s tombstone.

Robert Charles O'Hara Benjamin, a black lawyer, activist and poet, was shot in the back in Lexington in 1900 while trying to register blacks to vote. He is buried in African Cemetery No. 2 on East Seventh Street.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Benjamin’s monument was erected by a fraternal organization a decade after his death.

Walter Skold of Freeport, Maine, who has driven this white Dodge van to visit the graves of more than 500 poets over the past six years, came to Lexington's African Cemetery No. 2 on East Seventh Street to visit the grave of Robert Charles O'Hara Benjamin, a black lawyer, activist and poet who was shot in the back in Lexington in 1900 while trying to register blacks to vote.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

African Cemetery No. 2 on East Seventh Street.


She wanted classic style, he wanted a net-zero energy house.

July 26, 2015
Jamie Clark, a Lexington energy consultant and contractor, renovated an older home in Chevy Chase to see if he could create a "net zero" energy house that looks like a typical house most people in Lexington want to own. So far, his project has been a success.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Jamie Clark, a Lexington energy consultant, renovated a circa 1958 house in Chevy Chase to see if he could create a “net zero” energy house that looks like a typical Lexington house. Photos by Tom Eblen

The solar panels that help power Jamie Clark's renovated house in Chevy Chase are hidden on the back roof, visible only from the very back of his back yard.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

The solar panels that help power Clark’s renovated house in Chevy Chase are hidden on the back roof, visible only from the very back of his back yard.

 

When Jamie and Haley Clark decided to move closer to town and Christ the King School, where their two young daughters are students, they each knew what kind of house they wanted. Trouble was, they didn’t want the same thing.

“She wanted a very Southern Living house,” Jamie Clark said, referring to the lifestyle magazine. “I wanted a net-zero house.”

Kentucky doesn’t have many net-zero houses, which use insulation, solar power and other technology to create as much energy as they use over the course of a year. And few of them look like the traditional homes that most Lexington buyers want.

Jamie Clark of Lexington is an energy-efficiency consultant and contractor.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Jamie Clark

Clark, who works as an energy-efficiency consultant and sells geothermal systems for Climate Control Heating & Air, took that as a challenge.

“Part of my goal was to prove that you could build net zero in Chevy Chase,” he said as he stood outside the house they bought two years ago and drastically renovated. “This would fit in in any neighborhood in Lexington.”

Clark searched Chevy Chase for a house for sale with the right orientation to the sun. He found a one-story ranch on Prather Road, built in 1958 with salvaged brick, and began renovations. Haley Clark sketched what she wanted, and architect Van Meter Pettit turned her ideas into construction drawings.

The Clarks rearranged the existing house and added about 1,000 square feet. The result was 2,978 square feet of living space above ground, plus 1,856 in the finished basement.

They put the master suite on the first floor and added a second story with Cape Cod dormers in the bedrooms of their daughters, Alexandra 8, and Catherine, 5. The girls’ double bathroom was designed with their teenage years in mind.

“I just turned 40 and I never plan to move again,” Clark said. “We were really mindful of growing in this house.”

The first step in creating a net-zero house is insulation; less energy used means less must be generated. The Clarks’ contractors installed Icynene spray-foam insulation and energy-efficient Anderson 400 Series low-E windows.

Clark drilled five, 200-foot wells and put in a geothermal system for heating, cooling and hot water. He installed a Climate Master Trilogy 45 heat pump and a highly insulated iGate water tank.

Clark said he spent about $900 on LED light bulbs, whose light quality is comparable to traditional incandescent bulbs. LEDs cost 10 times more than traditional bulbs but use 1⁄10 the electricity and last 10 times longer.

The only incandescent bulbs in the house are on chandeliers that look better with “pretty” bulbs. And there are motion sensors in the girls’ playroom to turn lights on and off automatically.

Jamie Clark installed a super-insulated water heater that works off the geothermal system.

Clark installed a super-insulated water heater that works off the geothermal system.

“It makes a lot more sense to just conserve than to put more solar panels on the roof,” Clark said. “Back in February, when we hit minus 18, I was using less power than the microwave at Super America to heat my house.”

Clark installed new Energy Star-rated appliances. The only natural gas the house uses is for the kitchen stove, and Clark said his monthly meter fee is much higher than the cost of the gas.

To create electricity, Clark installed 20 solar panels on the back roof. They are on the Kentucky Utilities grid, so the house draws power on cloudy days and adds power on sunny days.

Clark wired the system for 40 panels and plans to add more if he needs them. “I’m trying to talk my wife into a Tesla (electric car), and if we do that then I’ll put 20 more panels up there for charging it,” said Clark, who drives a Toyota Prius.

Like other energy systems in the house, the solar panels aren’t visible. “The only place you can see them is if you stand at the back fence line,” he said.

The Clarks moved in last Thanksgiving, so it will be at least a few more months before they know if their house is net zero. Early results are encouraging. The electric bill in December, when there were only six days with more than six hours of sunshine, was $153. But the bills were $11 in March, $30 in April and $9 in May.

Clark did some of the work himself, and he has good contacts in the industry. For an average consumer working with a contractor, Clark’s energy-efficiency measures would cost about $50,000 more than conventional systems, adding about $200 a month to a 30-year mortgage.

“They will more than pay for themselves,” he said, adding that federal tax credits for solar and geothermal systems would reduce costs further.

Over time, savings will be even greater. Electricity costs in Kentucky typically double every decade, but as utilities move away from high-pollution coal, rates could rise more sharply.

“It’s a dream home, that’s for sure,” Clark said of the project that has made him and his wife happy. “It’s everything we wanted.”

A state-of-the-art geo-thermal heating and cooling unit in the basement is a big reason Jamie Clark's renovated house in Chevy Chase is close to net-zero energy usage over the course of the year.  Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

A state-of-the-art geo-thermal heating and cooling unit in the basement is a big reason Clark’s renovated house in Chevy Chase is close to net-zero energy usage over the course of the year.

Jamie Clark's wife wanted a "Southern Living" house, and the energy consultant and contractor wanted a super energy-efficient house. So his renovated house in Chevy Chase has both high style and almost no net energy use over the course of the year, thanks to solar panels, geo-thermal heating and cooling and high-level insulation. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Clark’s wife wanted a “Southern Living” house, and the energy consultant and contractor wanted a super energy-efficient house. So his renovated house in Chevy Chase has both high style and almost no net energy use over the course of the year, thanks to solar panels, geo-thermal heating and cooling and high-level insulation.


Sculptor seeks more statues of notable Kentucky women, minorities

July 25, 2015
Sculptor Amanda Matthews and her husband, sculptor Brad Connell, operate Prometheus Foundry on their farm outside Lexington. They posed in their studio with a commissioned statue of early Kentucky aviator Solomon Van Meter, the inventor of the backpack parachute, and a personal sculpture Matthews is creating.  Photo by Tom Eblen

Sculptor Amanda Matthews and her husband, sculptor Brad Connell, operate Prometheus Foundry on their farm outside Lexington. They posed in their studio with a commissioned statue of early Kentucky aviator Solomon Van Meter, the inventor of the backpack parachute, and a personal sculpture Matthews is creating. Photo by Tom Eblen

 

A bronze statue of Catherine Spalding, a Catholic nun who led the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth in creating early schools, orphanages and hospitals in Kentucky, will be unveiled Sunday outside the Cathedral of the Assumption in Louisville.

It is the first public statue honoring a woman in Louisville, and one of only a few in Kentucky.

In the Capitol rotunda in Frankfort, there are no statues of women or minorities. There are statues of five white men there, although officials are discussing whether to evict Confederate President Jefferson Davis.

In 2010, Gov. Steve Beshear and the Kentucky Commission on Women announced a 10-year project to add two statues of women in the rotunda. The effort was to begin with a feasibility study.

But when Amanda Matthews checked on the progress of that study last year, she was disappointed. She decided to launch her own effort to show that statues of notable Kentucky women are feasible — and to start creating them.

Matthews, majority owner of Prometheus Foundry in Lexington, has formed the non-profit Artemis Initiative to sponsor creation of such statues for display in public spaces throughout the Commonwealth.

“Because of historical gender inequity, women’s history just doesn’t have the depth and breadth of men’s history,” Matthews said.

To help demonstrate feasibility, Matthews has created a model for a statue of education pioneer Nettie Depp. She was elected Barren County’s schools superintendent in 1913, seven years before women were allowed to vote.

Depp’s four years in office revolutionized that school system. She renovated schools and built new ones, created libraries, improved curricula and a tripled enrollment by aggressively enforcing truancy laws.

Sculptor Amanda Matthews' model for a statue of Nettie Depp. Photo by Tom Eblen

Sculptor Amanda Matthews’ model for a statue of Nettie Depp. Photo by Tom Eblen

She was one of 40 Kentucky women profiled in the film “Dreamers and Doers,” which Lexington filmmaker Michael Breeding produced this year for the Kentucky Commission on Women. It is now showing on Kentucky Educational Television.

Matthews said she chose Depp as her example because she had access to family photographs. Depp was her great-great aunt — a relationship she shares with actor Johnny Depp.

“But the entire idea behind the sculpture of Nettie Depp has very little to do with Nettie Depp,” Matthews said. “It has everything to do with me as a sculptor and us as a foundry showing people that it’s feasible to create statues of women.”

In studios at their small farm on Russell Cave Road, Matthews and her husband, sculptor Brad Connell, create their own work, cast other artists’ sculptures into finished bronzes and repair statues. They were recently in the news for restoring the bronze children on the James Lane Allen fountain in Gratz Park.

“Foundry work is a very male-dominated industry,” Matthews said. “It has not been without its challenges to be a female owner of a foundry.”

The Artemis Initiative, named for the goddess of ancient Greek mythology, has formed a board of directors and received non-profit tax status. Matthews said she soon hopes to get state approval to begin fundraising.

The organization’s goal is to fund proposals for creating public art in Kentucky that “elevates the status of women, children, minorities, nature and animals.” Matthews believes that public art creates conversations and that a broader representation in that art will lead to improvements in Kentucky society.

“So many under-represented groups of people have contributed to the rich history of Kentucky,” she said.

Kentucky has only a few public statues of notable women. Among them: Alice Lloyd, on the Knott County campus of the college named for her; riverboat pilot Mary B. Greene on the Riverwalk in Covington; Mary Draper Ingles, a pioneer woman who escaped Native American captivity, outside the Boone County Public Library in Burlington; and educator Elizabeth Rogers in a Berea park.

There are many Kentucky artists capable of producing this work. For example, there are two noted Louisville sculptors: Ed Hamilton, famous for his statues of great African Americans; and Raymond Graf, who created the Spalding and Lloyd statues.

Matthews emphasizes that she isn’t pushing for a memorial to her relative; it is just an example of what can be done.

“My involvement has only been to say that there are people in Kentucky, like myself, and there are businesses in Kentucky, like Prometheus Foundry, who can absolutely make this happen.”


Saved 75 years ago, Duncan Tavern celebrates with quilt exhibit

July 21, 2015
Kathy Stammerman's 2012 national champion quilt is displayed on a table at Duncan Tavern beneath a portrait of Julia Spencer Ardery, who spearheaded a drive to save the circa 1788 building from demolition in 1940 to make it a museum and headquarters for the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Photo by Tom Eblen

Kathy Stammerman’s 2012 national champion quilt is displayed on a table at Duncan Tavern beneath a portrait of Julia Spencer Ardery, who spearheaded a drive to save the circa 1788 building from demolition in 1940 to make it a museum and headquarters for the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Photo by Tom Eblen

 

PARIS — It almost became one of those all-too-common Kentucky stories: an historic building abused and neglected for so long that most people thought it would make a better parking lot.

Fortunately, Duncan Tavern had a different fate.

The former inn, built in 1788, and an adjoining 1803 house were rescued from the wrecking ball in 1940 by Julia Spencer Ardery and an enterprising group of ladies. It became a museum, genealogy library and headquarters of the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution.

The DAR is celebrating the 75th anniversary of that accomplishment, as well as the national organization’s 125th anniversary, with a show of 65 antique and modern Kentucky quilts at Duncan Tavern Historic Center through Sept. 9.

“Some of the stories of our quilts are unbelievable,” said Donna Hughes, who oversees the building, where the exhibit opened in April. “This has been a main attraction for us, and very successful.”

The quilts, which range from modern pieces to a family heirloom stitched in 1844, were loaned by members of the 85 DAR chapters across the state.

This is a detail of a log cabin pattern quilt made by Patricia Conway of Shepherdsville from horse competition ribbons she won, mostly in the 1960s. It is part of an exhibit of 65 Kentucky quilts at Duncan Tavern. Photo by Tom Eblen

This is a detail of a log cabin pattern quilt made by Patricia Conway of Shepherdsville from horse competition ribbons she won, mostly in the 1960s. It is part of an exhibit of 65 Kentucky quilts at Duncan Tavern. Photo by Tom Eblen

“This is one of my favorite quilts,” said Kay Thomas, the DAR’s state curator, as she pointed to one made by Patricia Conway of Shepherdsville from ribbons she won at horse competitions in the 1960s.

“I’ve seen some quilts like this that were, well, tacky,” Thomas said. “But she has done a beautiful job.”

One purpose of the quilt exhibit is to draw attention to Duncan Tavern, which has a remarkable story.

Joseph Duncan built a cabin on the site in 1784, two years after receiving the land as a grant for his service in the Revolutionary War.

By 1788, four years before Kentucky became a state, he had built the biggest house in Paris, which was then called Hopewell. It had three stories and 20 rooms, including a ballroom. The walls were made of limestone at a time when almost every other building in town was made of logs.

Duncan saw a business opportunity in his location on the public square. In 1795, he turned the house into a tavern and inn called The Goddess of Liberty. Patrons included pioneers Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton.

About 1800, Duncan left his wife, Anne, and six young children to make a trip back to Virginia. “We have no record of him after he left here,” Hughes said.

With her husband vanished, Anne Duncan leased the tavern and had an adjoining house built for herself and her children, who all became educated and successful. Son Joseph Duncan Jr. moved to Illinois, where he became the state’s sixth governor (1834-1838) after serving four terms in Congress.

The inn later became a “respectable” boarding house. But by the 1930s, it was a shabby tenement that housed 13 families. The limestone had been covered with stucco and painted barn red. Paris officials condemned the building and planned to demolish it, until Ardery stepped in.

She convinced city officials to sell the property for $1, then she raised money for a seven-year restoration. The DAR furnished the tavern with donated and loaned Kentucky antiques. As other historic homes in the region were demolished, mantles and other fine woodwork was salvaged and incorporated into the tavern’s interior.

The DAR restored the adjoining Anne Duncan House in 1955, and the log-and-clapboard structure was faced with limestone. (That’s something preservationists would never do now, but it matched.)

A banquet room was added behind the tavern, and a cellar was dug out to create a large genealogy library. It is named for Bourbon County author John Fox Jr., the first American novelist to write a million-seller, The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come. The library contains his desk and other artifacts.

“We had a gentleman here this morning from Idaho,” Hughes said. “He was tracing his family line and it ended up being right here in Bourbon County.”

If you go

Duncan Tavern Quilt Exhibit

Where: Duncan Tavern Historic Center, 323 High St., Paris

When: Tours at 10:30 a.m., 1 p.m. and 2 p.m., Wednesday-Saturday through Sept. 9

Cost: $10 adults; reduced rates for seniors, DAR members, children and military

More information: Duncantavern.com or (859) 987-1788

A crazy quilt from 1889 is part of a display of 65 antique and modern quilts from across Kentucky on display until Sept. 8 at Duncan Tavern in Paris.  Photo by Tom Eblen

A crazy quilt from 1889 is part of a display of 65 antique and modern quilts from across Kentucky on display through Sept. 9 at Duncan Tavern in Paris. Photo by Tom Eblen

Kay Thomas, left, Betty Willmott, center, and Donna Hughes helped organize a show of 65 antique and modern quilts from across Kentucky to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the restoration of circa 1788 Duncan Tavern as a museum and headquarters of the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. They are shown in the tavern's second floor hallway.  Photo by Tom Eblen

Kay Thomas, left, Betty Willmott, center, and Donna Hughes helped organize a show of 65 antique and modern quilts from across Kentucky to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the restoration of circa 1788 Duncan Tavern as a museum and headquarters of the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. They are shown in the tavern’s second floor hallway. Photo by Tom Eblen

Quilts are displayed with early Kentucky antique furniture at Duncan Tavern, a circa 1788 building that since 1940 has been a museum and headquarters of the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. The quilt show, which runs through Sept. 8, celebrates the 75th anniversary of the tavern's renovation and the 125th anniversary of the DAR's founding. Photo by Tom Eblen

Quilts are displayed with early Kentucky antique furniture at Duncan Tavern, a circa 1788 building that since 1940 has been a museum and headquarters of the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. The quilt show, which runs through Sept. 8, celebrates the 75th anniversary of the tavern’s renovation and the 125th anniversary of the DAR’s founding. Photo by Tom Eblen

Quilts are displayed with early Kentucky antique furniture at Duncan Tavern, a circa 1788 building that since 1940 has been a museum and headquarters of the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. The quilt show, which runs through Sept. 8, celebrates the 75th anniversary of the tavern's renovation and the 125th anniversary of the DAR's founding. Photo by Tom Eblen

Quilts are displayed with early Kentucky antique furniture at Duncan Tavern, a circa 1788 building that since 1940 has been a museum and headquarters of the Kentucky Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. The quilt show, which runs through Sept. 9, celebrates the 75th anniversary of the tavern’s renovation and the 125th anniversary of the DAR’s founding. Photo by Tom Eblen


Two Lexington food entrepreneurs share their secrets to success

July 19, 2015

When I first wrote about Ilias Pappas and Lesme Romero several years ago, they had a lot in common. Both were 30-something immigrants, former chefs and new food entrepreneurs with a passion to succeed.

Since then, their businesses have grown well beyond expectations. Both recently opened new restaurants and have more projects in mind.

So I thought this would be a good time to check back with them and ask what advice they have for other food entrepreneurs. As it turns out, their advice has a lot in common, too.

Many people dream of opening a restaurant or food business. But it is a lot harder than it looks. Many open and most of them close, despite their owners’ passion and hard work. How have these guys succeeded when so many others have failed?

First, a little about them.

Ilias Pappas of Athenian Grill started with a food truck and how owns two restaurants, a catering business and manages two Kroger food kiosks and will soon be opening the cafe at Ashland, The Henry Clay Estate. Photo by Tom Eblen

Ilias Pappas of Athenian Grill started with a food truck and how owns two restaurants, a catering business and manages two Kroger food kiosks and will soon be opening the cafe at Ashland, The Henry Clay Estate. Photo by Tom Eblen

Pappas, 35, came to Lexington from Lamia, Greece, to attend college. After transferring to Florida International University, he worked in several Miami restaurants. His aunt and uncle, George and Louiza Ouraniou, lived in Lexington, and they made and sold Greek food on the side.

When his uncle was killed in a car wreck in 2011, Pappas moved back to Lexington to help his aunt. The next year, he started the Athenian Grill food cart, serving homemade Greek specialties at local brewpubs and Thursday Night Live.

Pappas was part of Lexington’s first wave of food trucks. I wrote about him in May 2013, when he became one of the first to transition his cart into a sit-down restaurant. He opened Athenian Grill in what was originally a two-car garage at 313 South Ashland Ave., and it has flourished.

On May 13, Pappas added a much larger Athenian Grill restaurant at 115 North Locust Hill Drive. He bought La Petite Creperie to open kiosks at two new Kroger stores on Euclid Avenue and, this week, in Versailles.

He continues to do a lot of catering, as well as an occasional food truck gig for the brewpubs that helped him get started. He now has about 30 employees, most of them full-time.

In addition, Pappas has agreed to open a 600-square-foot Greek rotisserie food stand late next year in the Summit shopping center under construction at Nicholasville Road and Man O’ War Boulevard. And he said he has been approached by franchisers interested in taking his concepts to other cities in the region.

Lesme Romero began Lexington Pasta with his business partner, Reinaldo Gonzalez, in a former one-car garage on North Limestone Street. After building a large wholesale business in fresh pasta, Romero recently opened Pasta Garage, a fresh fast-food Italian concept they hope to expand. Photo by Tom Eblen

Lesme Romero began Lexington Pasta with his business partner, Reinaldo Gonzalez, in a former one-car garage on North Limestone Street. After building a large wholesale business in fresh pasta, Romero recently opened Pasta Garage, a fresh fast-food Italian concept they hope to expand. Photo by Tom Eblen

Like Pappas, Romero and his business partner, Reinaldo Gonzalez, started their business in a former garage.

Both had grown up in South America with Spanish fathers and Italian mothers. They became friends at college in Cleveland and worked in Italian restaurants there. Gonzales eventually became an industrial engineer in Lexington, while Romero worked in finance in Florida.

Through their shared love of fresh pasta, they saw a business opportunity. They started Lexington Pasta in a small garage at 227 North Limestone in 2009, selling fresh pasta there, at the Lexington Farmers’ Market, in markets and restaurants.

In addition to retail sales, they developed a regional wholesale pasta business and outgrew the garage. So they leased an 8,000-square-food building at 962 Delaware Ave. in 2013 and renovated it into a production kitchen with room for growth.

The low profit margins of wholesale pasta led them to decide to create a restaurant concept. Three weeks ago, Romero, who now manages the business, opened Pasta Garage in the front of the building.

The fast-casual concept serves made-to-order pasta bowls for lunch six days a week. Business has been so good, he already is looking to expand the dining room and add evening and Sunday hours.

Future plans call for Pasta Garages in the Hamburg and Beaumont areas, as well as behind the original Limestone garage, which they plan to convert into an Italian market later this year. They also have been approached by regional franchisers. Lexington Pasta now has five employees.

Pappas and Romero say several things contributed to their success:

Their food concepts were new to Lexington, and their timing was right. They started small and grew in phases by providing high-quality food with fresh ingredients and building relationships with business partners, customers and peers.

Both businesses developed a close partnership with Alt32, a Lexington architecture and design firm that created their restaurant interiors.

Romero and Pappas have become friends and advisers to each other. They also are part of a network of local food entrepreneurs who share ideas and learn from one another.

Both men say they are their own worst critics. They listen to customers and are constantly looking for ways to improve. They value customer relationships more than short-term sales. Those relationships contributed to successful online fundraising drives to help them raise expansion capital.

“Every customer needs to understand you are there for them,” Pappas said, adding that the same goes for employees. “I want to hire people who know that if this business does well, they will do well.”

Both Romero and Pappas work constantly, but they know they can’t do it forever. That is why they hire good people and trust them.

Pappas, who married June 20, said delegating responsibility isn’t just about work-life balance; it is about being smarter in business. “You should not be making important decisions at 1 a.m. when you’re exhausted and beat-up,” he said.

Romero and Pappas said their work is more about self-fulfillment than money. But successful food entrepreneurs must love both food and business — one or the other isn’t enough. And they must stay focused on achieving their vision.

“You will have your ups and downs,” Romero said. “Just make sure you work for what you believe in.”


Kentucky priest thankful for Pope Francis’ environmental message

July 18, 2015
Father Al Fritsch, a Jesuit priest with a doctorate in chemistry and a long history of environmental activism, stands on the porch of the rectory at St. Elizabeth Catholic Church in Ravenna. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

Father Al Fritsch, a Jesuit priest with a doctorate in chemistry and a long history of environmental activism, on the porch of the rectory at St. Elizabeth Catholic Church in Ravenna. Photo by Tom Eblen

 

RAVENNA — Pope Francis’ pronouncements about the immorality of social injustice and environmental degradation have rattled economic conservatives worldwide, and nowhere more than in King Coal’s Appalachia.

But the message isn’t new for Catholics in some parts of Kentucky, where Albert Fritsch — Jesuit priest, scientist and activist — has been writing, preaching and teaching for nearly four decades.

“I call myself a true conservative,” Fritsch, 81, said when I visited him at his home beside St. Elizabeth Catholic Church in Estill County. “I am fiscally and socially conservative.”

But the jovial minister with a shock of white hair, who most people call Father Al, has always been a critic of economic conservatism. Now, he has some powerful backup.

Pope Francis, the Argentine cardinal elected pope in March 2013, issued an encyclical, or statement of church doctrine, last month that sharply criticized capitalism, consumerism, pollution and denial of human-induced climate change.

These are not political issues, the leader of the world’s 1.2 billion Roman Catholics said, but moral and religious issues. Christians must start behaving differently, he said, or risk destroying the Earth.

Father Al Fritch, a Jesuit priest with a doctorate in chemistry and a long history of environmental activism, stands on the porch of the rectory at St. Elizabeth Catholic Church in Ravenna. Photo by Tom Eblen | teblen@herald-leader.com

I thought this would be a good time to visit Fritsch. As expected, he is pleased with Pope Francis’ leadership. “What he says is, to me, great stuff,” he said. “We need him in this age very badly.”

Fritsch said his interest in the environment began on his family’s farm near Maysville, where his father grew their food and cared for the land. His love of nature led him to science.

Fritsch earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Xavier University and a Ph.D. in chemistry at Fordham. He did post-doctorate research at the University of Texas.

But Fritsch became disillusioned that advances in chemistry were being used and abused for corporate profit. He went back to school to become a priest, studying theology at Bellarmine and Loyola universities.

Fritsch threw himself into advocacy, first as a science adviser with Ralph Nader’s Center for the Study of Responsive Law and then, in 1971, as a co-founder and co-director of the Center for Science in the Public Interest in Washington, D.C.

By 1977, Fritsch decided he could have more impact in Kentucky. He moved to Mount Vernon and started Appalachia Science in the Public Interest, which focused on environmental issues.

Since 2002, Fritsch has ministered to Catholic congregations in Frankfort, Somerset and, currently, Ravenna and Stanton. But half his time is still spent on environmental work through his non-profit Earth Healing Inc.

He has authored or contributed to dozens of books and articles. Berea College Special Collections recently came to get his personal papers for preservation.

Fritsch writes daily reflections and records videos for his website, Earthhealing.info. His website manager thinks that Francis, before his election as pope, was among Fritsch’s online readers.

laudato-si400-255x363By focusing on wealth and its moral consequences, the Pope has made a lot of powerful people nervous. “The system that we have today, the capitalistic system as such, is really a state religion,” Fritsch said.

Pope Francis’ message is especially tough to hear in Kentucky, where the coal industry has a big influence in politics and the economy.

“A lot of Catholics are not taking this too well,” Fritsch said. “So many of them are committed to their way of life. One fellow got up and called me a communist and walked out.”

The man came back, Fritsch said, and asked him to lead a series of congregational meetings to discuss the encyclical. They begin next month.

Fritsch said one of the things that frustrates him most is that environmentalism has been politicized.

“When I started in environmental work in 1970, both Democrats and Republicans were in favor of the environment,” he said, noting that Republican Richard Nixon presided over creation of the Environmental Protection Agency. “Only after Reagan and with time did it become a partisan issue.”

The real issue is money, which is why Fritsch thinks politicians in both parties and institutions that depend on corporate money are dragging their feet. Renewable energy threatens investments in fossil fuels.

The Pope’s encyclical doesn’t offer solutions. Rather, Fritsch said, it calls for society to change and for people to frankly discuss these problems and seek solutions.

“We need to do a lot of talking in Kentucky,” he said. “This is a new frontier in theology, that we have a duty to save an earth that is threatened with destruction. Our grandparents didn’t have this. It’s a secular thing, but it’s also deeply religious.”

The biggest challenge, Fritsch thinks, is that the pace of climate change leaves us no time to waste.

“Things are changing, and we’ve got to be prepared for these changes,” he said. “I think that’s what Pope Francis is trying to say. And I think people are listening, because there’s a whole world out there that knows something is deeply wrong.”