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Culture Food & Drink

Winning wine

Shannon Horton had a dream: “I wanted to make a white wine that would go with a steak.” As a member of the family dynasty that runs Horton Vineyards in Gordonsville, she had a good shot at achieving that goal. And last fall, her wine—Suil (pronounced sue-ELL)—became the first sparkling viognier and only the second Virginia wine to earn a medal in the Champagne & Sparkling Wine World Championships, the Olympics of sparkling wine.

Horton Vineyards’ viognier has been winning awards for years. Its founder, Dennis Horton, who passed away in 2018, is credited with bringing the grape to Virginia and kicking off its popularity—viognier was designated Virginia’s state grape in 2011. Typically, about 20 percent of the viognier harvest is not the right profile for still wine, so it’s used to make the sparkling version; Horton has been producing a sparkling viognier since the 1990s.

As Dennis’ daughter, Shannon grew up in the world of wine (family vacations were trips to research grapes, visit vineyards, and test wines). A few years ago, “I decided to get deeper into what we were producing,” she says. “And I am a sparkling wine fanatic—it’s my passion. If I could drink only one wine for the rest of my life, it would be sparkling. So I started researching a lot. I read and I drank.”

Shannon took over the making of the vineyard’s three sparkling wines, and in 2018 she decided to concentrate on taking the sparkling viognier up a notch. In memory of her father—“he always called viognier ‘Virginia’s great white hope,’’’ she says—Shannon named her wine Suil, the Celtic word for hope, since Dennis was also proud of his Irish heritage.

Shannon was determined to make her wine méthode champenoise, the traditional way, by hand. This approach produces the best quality, most complex wines. But it is time-consuming and labor-intensive: adding yeast and sugar for the wine’s second, in-bottle fermentation; letting it age with the dead yeast (the lees) to enrich the wine; riddling (angling the bottles and rotating them 90 degrees every day, to let the lees settle out); disgorging (carefully removing the lees); then corking and labeling.

To check fizz, color, aroma, and taste, Shannon samples every bottle—that’s 1,200 bottles for each disgorgement—and rejects about 10 percent. It all adds up to years of devotion to one product: Shannon’s medal-winning Suil is labeled “on the lees 2016” and “disgorged March 2021.”

As she developed Suil, Shannon was also searching for a way to gain outside recognition for her efforts. That’s when she decided to enter the Champagne & Sparkling Wine World Championships, the world’s toughest and most prestigious competition for sparkling wine. “Tom Stephenson [founder and chairman of the championship] is the man in champagne,” Shannon says. “I appreciated the integrity of the competition—and you get the judges’ notes.”

In 2019, Shannon entered that year’s disgorgement and just missed earning a medal. “We came so close,” she says regretfully. “But the notes they gave me, saying that the wine needed more complexity, were absolutely right. I knew I had to wait and get it right.”

She submitted again in 2021. The CSWWC judges, Stephenso; Essi Avellan, founder and editor of FINE Champagne; and George Markus, noted champagne expert and taster, spent two weeks tasting more than 1,000 entries from 19 countries. And among the 139 gold and 268 silver medals awarded was one for Horton Vineyards’ Suil.

Shannon is justifiably proud of her achievement, but it’s clear this is truly a family enterprise. Her mother Sharon has been vineyard manager since Dennis bought his first 50 acres in 1989. “She’s the matriarch, out in the fields every day, and the quality of fruit is due to the people taking care of it,” says Shannon, who handles merchandising, marketing, and PR. She also has a full-time job as a quality manager at UVA Children’s Hospital, plus she supervises the vineyard’s crush pad, sharing the duties with her daughter Caitlin. Caitlin took over as winemaker last year, and is developing her own label: Gears and Lace, which has a white, a red, a rosé, and a sparkling dry red. And they all live on the same property in Madison, which, Shannon admits, sometimes leads to business meetings on her porch at nine o’clock at night (one assumes wine is on offer).

Right now, Horton Vineyards has 17 grape varieties under cultivation and 63 active labels (“and we make all of them, which is insane,” Shannon notes). But sparkling wine is still Shannon’s passion. She thinks it’s unfortunate that bubbly has gotten the reputation as “a celebration wine; something you have with appetizers, dessert. But it can go with a range of dishes, especially fatty foods.”

And that’s what began her quest for a sparkling steak wine. Shannon’s suggested pairings for Suil? Lobster mac-n-cheese, buttered popcorn with Parmesan, beef Wellington, and a group of good friends. “Wine always tastes better if you’re doing something with people you love,” she says.

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Arts Culture

The big wow

A few months before she died, Asha Greer wanted everyone to wake up. We were sitting on the porch of her little house in Miran Forest, near Batesville, on a cool October day. She was reflecting on art and tea, life and death, and I asked the beloved artist, spiritual teacher, and longtime Charlottesville resident what she wished for. “Man, I wish for people to wake up to how beautiful life is, in spite of the fact that you die, that you get sick, that you suffer, all of that,” said Greer, who’d been suffering from brain cancer for most of the last year.

Greer lived a quiet, extraordinary life. Her impact can perhaps be felt most deeply in intimate spaces—a meditation student’s stillness, a tea ceremony student’s gentle fingers, a family member’s memory of her grounding presence at their loved one’s death years ago. For many, she modeled a devotion to spiritual practice, to art, and to love.

Recalling her childhood in Los Angeles, Greer described a comfortable upper-middle-class life that nonetheless felt lacking. “Way inside of me, there was this place that was making faces a lot of the time,” she said, “Yes, it’s nice to win tennis games—not that I won that many—it was nice to have this very nice life, but it didn’t satisfy anything in my being.”

Greer (formerly Barbara Durkee) was attracted to art, and eventually found her way into the 1960s New York art scene, where she and her then-husband Stephen Durkee founded a ground-breaking media artists’ collective called USCO (Us Company). The Durkees later moved to northern New Mexico, and in 1967 co-founded the Lama Foundation spiritual community with Jonathan Altman. Lama was conceived and continues as a community that embraces all spiritual traditions. Richard Alpert, known later as Ram Dass, assisted with the founding of Lama, and the community published his now-famous book, Be Here Now.

After 12 years at Lama, Greer moved to Charlottesville with her four daughters. She took up residence in Miran Forest with several other families, raising their children together. She worked as an oncology nurse and co-founded Hospice of the Piedmont. When I asked her about working with dying people, Greer said, “It was me. It was you. It was all of us. There was no difference between the people who were dying and the people who were living…I don’t think dying is necessarily suffering unless people make a story about it being suffering, because it’s inevitable. We don’t know anybody who isn’t going to die, so why in the world suffer because of it?”

Once her children were grown, Greer focused on art and spiritual practice, teaching, taking journeys, and going on retreat, always with meditation as her ground. Though embracing a range of spiritual paths in the tradition of Lama Foundation, she eventually became a murshida in Sufi Ruhaniat International. Greer shared her gratitude for meditation as “a place for all of us to rest, to find peace with creation, to find peace with even those people who cannot make peace with creation.”

She also practiced and taught Japanese tea ceremony through her Heartwood Tea School. About the tea ceremony, she said, “It’s an act of life. It’s a conscious act of life, which—well, I’ll tell you what it is, really. It doesn’t divide the physical world and the spiritual world. It wipes out the difference.”

Talking with her during what she and her family knew to be the last stage of her life illuminated the depth of Greer’s spiritual understanding. Her presence felt peaceful, suffused with gratitude for the beauty of her life and family, and, despite moments of mild confusion, her conversation revealed a balance of wisdom and humility. She spoke about her brain tumor almost as a visitor that had joined her, as a kind of teacher. “I feel fine about dying,” she said. “And now my practice is not so much ‘practices.’ It’s really surrendering to how things actually are, without some sense that I have to make everything work.”

After surgery on her brain tumor last summer, Greer described a revelation in her spiritual life. “It was huge. I moved, I did. I moved from here,” she said, pointing to her head, “to here,” pointing to her heart. “I opened my heart pretty thoroughly at that point. And in opening my heart, I cleaned out all that stuff that comes in with your personality, that has to get along with [other people], with society.”

Greer grew tired as our conversation continued, but I came away with a clear sense of her connection to the ineffable, and an appreciation for the generosity that drew so many people to her as friends, students, and companions in a life of spiritual and artistic exploration. She embodied what she wanted for everyone else—to open their eyes “to how amazing life is. And try to stop being afraid of it and start appreciating the glory and the beauty and the unusualness and the incomprehensibleness of it. Wow! The big wow!”

Greer died on January 7, and was buried in Miran Forest on January 11. More information about her life and teachings can be found at asha-greer.com.

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Arts Culture

Pick: Cory Wong

Wong does it right: Cory Wong is a Grammy-nominated musical maestro who’s always got something fun up his sleeve. Whether it’s shredding guitar in full hockey gear on a skating rink, or hosting his podcast Wong Notes, his creativity and upbeat presence shine through. Recently, Wong got the chance to flex his acting chops with “Cory and the Wongnotes,” a YouTube variety show full of skits, interviews, collaborations, and music from a full band. As a result, Wong released an eponymously titled album of music from the show, including the rhythmic “Coming Back Around” and horn-heavy “United,” featuring Antwuan Stanley, who joins Wong and his band on tour.

Monday 2/7. $25-28, 7:30pm. The Jefferson Theater, 110 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. jeffersontheater.com

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Arts Culture

Pick: Gordon Lightfoot

Song and story: With a remarkable career surpassing 50 years, it’s safe to say that Canadian musician Gordon Lightfoot is a living legend. The Songwriters Hall of Fame inductee has released over 21 albums, and had his songs recorded and performed by greats such as Bob Dylan, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, and Barbra Streisand. In 2020, Lightfoot released Solo, his first studio album in 14 years. The record features Lightfoot with his guitar performing stripped-down and reimagined versions of forgotten songs he wrote before 2002, when he suffered from an abdominal aortic aneurysm. Lightfoot will perform new releases alongside favorites from his vast catalog at an intimate show that includes behind-the-scenes stories and personal anecdotes.

Sunday 2/6. $49-74, 8pm. The Paramount Theater, 215 E. Main St., Downtown Mall. theparamount.net

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Arts Culture

Pick: Grease

Tell me about it stud: Cuff your jeans, grab your leather jacket or poodle skirt, and take it back to the ’50s for a Grease sing-along party. T-Birds, Pink Ladies, and beauty school dropouts should arrive early for a preshow hand jive contest, where a variety of props, including combs, ribbons, and salon caps, will be available to complete your greaser look. The lyrics will be onscreen to help all you hopelessly devoted fans, and make sure to check out the limited XOXO menu, which includes the Eat Your Heart Out Pizza and other fun dishes.

Saturday 2/5. $10, 8pm. Alamo Drafthouse Cinema, 5th Street Station. drafthouse.com

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News

Future fuel

Eye of the Tiger

When attorney David Sutton purchased a small Charlottesville oil supplier on the verge of going out of business in 1982, the company had just two trucks to its name—and one had dry-rotted tires. But over the past four decades, Tiger Fuel Company has grown to become one of the largest petroleum distributors in the state. In addition to selling fuel to businesses and homeowners in Virginia and neighboring states, the company runs nearly a dozen gas stations, convenience stores, and car washes across central Virginia.

Last year, the family-owned business made a surprising pivot: It acquired Charlottesville-based solar company Altenergy.

“I’d been wanting to do solar at some of our facilities for a really long time, and had some good friends in the industry who were advising me on that,” says Tiger Fuel President Gordon Sutton. “For years and years, they [said] you could do it just for the feel-good reasons, but it doesn’t make a ton of financial sense. But about three or four years ago, they let me know that had absolutely changed.”

In 2018, Tiger Fuel hired Altenergy to install solar panels at its Preston Avenue and Ruckersville stores. Because the two companies had worked well together, Sutton decided to pursue a partnership, creating the petroleum distributor’s newest branch, Tiger Solar.

Tiger Fuel is now working to bring solar power to the rest of its convenience stores and bulk plants, and will use it for all future real estate projects. It’s also installed electric vehicle charging stations at its Mill Creek store, and plans to add them to more locations.

By transitioning to solar power, the company ultimately aims to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions by 45 percent by 2025.

“It’s no question that the fossil fuel landscape is changing,” says Sutton. “If you’re not growing, you’re dying.”—Brielle Entzminger

‘What’s going on in there?’

Strolling along the Downtown Mall these days will lead you past the quaint restaurants and boutiques that have long been associated with the pedestrian drag. But in some corners, that small business entrepreneurial spirit has taken on a more cutting-edge sheen. Icarus sells custom-made knee braces from its sleek office space near the corner of First and East Main streets. Closer to the mall’s east end Skooma opened last year, promising a “boutique” dispensary experience as full marijuana legalization approaches. Its Apple Store-esque decor strikes an entirely different note than the head shops of yore.

Dave Johnson, founder of Icarus, holds one of the company’s knee braces outside his downtown office. Photo: Eze Amos

Meanwhile, though plenty of traditional office space still occupies the mall’s nooks and crannies, multiple companies have set up trendy co-working spaces, where individuals or small groups can purchase more flexible access to office space. In addition to hosting larger tenants, the CODE Building houses the Codebase co-working space, which could support as many as 200 workers. Vault Virginia, also downtown, rents conference rooms, suites, and a la carte access to individuals and companies alike. And Common House, on West Market Street, offers membership-based entry to its coffee-shop-vibe multipurpose rooms. The times they are a-changin’.—Ben Hitchcock

If you build it…

Charlottesville’s innovators have had an effect on the city’s skyline in recent years. As the area becomes more and more of a hub for entrepreneurship and the tech industry, all those new employees need workspace, and that’s led to major new developments geared toward office space.

WillowTree has been in to its facility in the old Woolen Mills warehouse since last year. The Charlottesville-based software development firm has worked on digital products for big companies like HBO and McDonald’s, and also put together UVA’s COVIDwise app last year. The corp is very much in the process of pitching Charlottesville as a destination for entrepreneurship: “The future of tech innovation? It’s not where you think,” reads WillowTree’s website, above a picture of its new Woolen Mills campus. Checkmate, Palo Alto.

Closer to downtown, Apex Clean Energy has recently moved in to new digs, too. Apex is a renewable energy company, which organizes and operates solar and wind farms across the country. It has projects close to home, as well: last year, then-Governor Ralph Northam announced that the state would buy the output from Virginia’s first onshore wind turbine farm, operated by Apex and located in Botetourt County. The company’s shiny eight-story Garrett Street office building is made of sustainably harvested massed timber, a construction method that limits carbon emissions. Apex says it’s the tallest timber building on the East Coast.

Then, of course, there’s the CODE Building, which now looms at the Downtown Mall’s west end. The state-of-the-art tech tower opened late last year. The building’s upper floors will be rented to large companies—Jaffray Woodriff’s Quantitative Investment Management has already claimed one, and local wealth management firm Investure has moved in to another. In total, the building could bring as many as 600 workers to the mall.—Ben Hitchcock

Mission driven

Charity Malia Dinko has always had a passion for helping people. After immigrating to the United States from Ghana in 2010, she started sending money back to her hometown village of Worikambo as soon as she landed her first jobs at Walmart and McDonald’s. Making minimum wage, Dinko began to feel like she was not making much of a difference, but soon had a shift in perspective.

Charity Malia Dinko has created opportunities for women in Ghana through her shea butter business. Photo: John Robinson

“One day I was driving to work, and at the stoplight there was a homeless man begging for money. I only had 25 cents in my car…but God just spoke to me and told me you should give that money to him because that money could add up,” says Dinko. “It got me thinking…whatever it is I can save up and send to my mom, it will help something. It’s better than nothing.”

After earning her associate’s degree, Dinko transferred to the University of Virginia in 2016. She created a micro-loans program to help people in Ghana start their own businesses, but faced challenges keeping it running. While taking classes for her minor in social entrepreneurship, Dinko realized she could start her own business, selling what millions of exploited Ghanian women were already making: shea butter. In 2018, Dinko officially launched Northshea, which pays women in Worikambo a living wage to produce shea butter. Since then, the company has lifted many out of poverty, as well as built a library in the village and sent school supplies to children there.

“The northern part of Ghana is one of the poorest areas…Many [women] don’t have jobs at all, and they’re migrating to the south and [most] end up being abused,” says Dinko. “What we’re doing here is allowing the people to stay home by creating jobs right there.”

In addition to selling raw shea butter from her facility in Ghana, Dinko uses the raw butter to make a variety of whipped body butters with essential oils. Northshea’s products are currently sold at Darling, Rebecca’s Natural Foods, and The Elderberry, as well as on the company’s website.

As her company grows, Dinko plans to improve the schools and health care in Worikambo. And soon, she hopes to get her shea butter on shelves in big-name stores, like Target—the bigger the business gets, the more she’ll be able to give back.—Brielle Entzminger

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News

Limited choices

Between about 1944 and 1953, Mable Wall Jones was a major figure in the lives of Emily Abel and Margaret Nelson. In addition to cooking and cleaning for their family, Jones cared for the sisters and their three siblings at their home in New York. Until one day, she left.

“We didn’t know much about her,” remembers Abel, a professor at the UCLA Fielding School of Public Health. “We remembered her, and we really wanted to know what happened in her life after she left.”

“We wanted to honor her, show that she had been important to us, and that altogether she was an important person,” adds Nelson, a sociology professor at Middlebury College. So the two decided to trace Jones’ story, and write a book about her life.

In Limited Choices: Mable Jones, a Black Children’s Nurse in a Northern White Household, Abel and Nelson piece together Jones’ story, drawing from their childhood memories, discussions with Jones’ descendants, and an interview Jones did with the Ridge Street Oral History Project in 1995. The book shows how Jones negotiated life as a domestic laborer—a job held by the majority of Black women during the 20th century—in both the South and the North, as well as highlights her strong relationships with her family and her impact on Charlottesville’s Black community.

According to her 1995 interview, Jones was born in Gordonsville, Virginia, in 1909. As a teenager, she moved to Charlottesville and attended the Jefferson School, but in eighth grade she had to leave school to help her widowed single mother support her and her four siblings. When Jones was 20, she married James Jones and they had two sons.

Nelson and Abel’s mother hired Jones to care for the family in Washington, D.C., in the mid-’40s. When the family moved to the affluent white suburb of Larchmont, New York, Jones accompanied them. To spend time with her own children, Jones regularly traveled back and forth between Charlottesville and New York, until she stopped working for the family in 1953.

In addition to the oral history interview, Nelson and Abel pieced together Jones’ story through interviews with her descendants, as well as one of her friends and her pastor. The sisters also received help from Gordonsville-based research group One Shared Story, and Charlottesville civil rights activist Eugene Williams, who grew up in the same neighborhood as Jones.

Dr. Andrea Douglas, executive director of the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center, says she appreciates the book’s focus on Black migration and Black labor after emancipation. For many Black people, the North offered little more opportunity than the South.

“You often hear about the idea of migration, and the reasons why people were leaving the South, but you very rarely, especially in this region in particular, understand what the lives of people in the North were,” says Douglas, who wrote the book’s foreword.

“How do we understand a much more national conversation, than just simply limit it to the idea that Black folks moved north as a consequence of violence?” she adds.

After leaving New York in 1953, Jones moved back to Charlottesville. In 1957, she moved with her mother to Ridge Street, and stayed there until 1994, when a tree fell on her house and it had to be demolished. Jones passed away in 1995.

Abel and Nelson hope Jones’ story will not only help readers understand the struggles Black domestic workers faced in the past, but also how they continue to be exploited today.

“We hope that domestic workers get paid better, are recognized, and are supported more,” says Abel. “They do such invaluable work.”

The Jefferson School will host a virtual discussion about Limited Choices with Abel and Nelson on February 5 at 2pm.

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News

Out of control

For nearly two years, the Albemarle-Charlottesville Regional Jail has been hit hard by the pandemic. While the virus shakes up life outside the jail’s walls, those incarcerated at ACRJ have reported poor COVID containment procedures and unhygienic living conditions. Now, with the highly-contagious omicron variant spreading across the country, coronavirus cases have reached an all-time high at the jail.

On January 18, superintendent Martin Kumer reported that 65 incarcerated individuals and 10 staff members had tested positive for the virus. Around 66 percent of the jail population—currently 265 people—have received at least one dose of the vaccine. As of February 1, the ACRJ data on the Blue Ridge Health District’s COVID dashboard had last been updated on January 21, and showed 42 positives among incarcerated people and another six among staff.

“An outbreak this size is not unexpected given the community positivity rate of over 35%,” Kumer wrote in a press release. “Our infection rate typically follows those within the community. We expect our rates to begin to decline as those in the community decline.”

In response to the outbreak, Kumer claimed the jail would continue to put eligible individuals—especially those who are high-risk—on home electronic incarceration, as well as test and quarantine the jail population and staff, require employees to wear masks, offer vaccines and boosters, and limit movement around the jail. The local courts also agreed to delay those scheduled to begin sentences from reporting to the jail for 30 days, he said.

However, multiple incarcerated individuals report that the jail could be doing more to get the outbreak under control. These claims echo reporting from C-VILLE over the last year.

Terrence Winston claims that the flow of employees in and out of the facility, which is short-staffed, is contributing to the spread of the virus. Staff members have also not been wearing masks consistently, he says, possibly causing the outbreak.

“It’s the staff—they’re the ones that keep coming in and out,” Winston says. “And they may be slacking on testing these people who are coming inside of this jail.”

He also says the jail hasn’t provided adequate cleaning supplies. Throughout the pandemic, incarcerated people have reported black mold, bug infestations, dirty vents, standing water, leaky ceilings, and many other sanitary issues in their pods.

“I’ve been in [my pod] for two and a half months, going on three months—we’ve never seen bleach to clean the pods, the showers. The catwalk is disgusting,” says Winston. “We have to sit here and beg for bleach, and don’t get it.”

Allan Via fears COVID will only get worse at the jail if staff does not stop moving people around to different pods. Meanwhile, the jail continues to bring in new people, claims Ty Gregory.

“I was supposed to come off quarantine on the 23rd, but they brought a guy to our block [last week] knowing that he was COVID positive. They brought him in and took him out,” says Via. “They’ll bring somebody in for about two minutes, turn around, and take him out.”

“They’re constantly moving people around,” he adds. “They do not have it under control.”

Following the announcement of the outbreak, Beyond Charlottesville Policing urged the public to contact the jail board, and demand the jail provide hand sanitizer, cleaning supplies, and medical-grade masks, as well as fix the heating outage in Pod GL. During a January 18 City Council meeting, Councilor Sena Magill, a member of the jail board, said the jail no longer had heating issues, but did not plan on distributing masks because “people just haven’t been wearing them.”

Winston claims the jail population wears masks outside their pods, and would appreciate new ones. “We got to put masks on to go to rec, to go out in the hallway to get mail…If you don’t have a mask on, you can’t go nowhere,” he says.

And on top of the outbreak, the heat is still out in some parts of the jail, report multiple incarcerated people. Gregory claims it has been 40 degrees in his pod for several days. “Nothing’s changed,” he says.

During a January 13 jail board meeting, Kumer claimed the jail had restarted in-person programming during the outbreak, focusing on substance abuse, anger management, domestic violence, financial literacy, and other topics. However, Winston says there has yet to be any programming, leaving people at the jail with little to do.

To bring an end to the outbreaks, Via wishes the jail would test staff members regularly, and use more accurate tests. Winston also urges the jail to adopt proper health and safety protocols, and provide the population with sufficient cleaning supplies.

Most importantly, jail leadership must improve their communication, and immediately inform and quarantine people who have been exposed to the virus, say the incarcerated men.

“They don’t tell us nothing at all,” adds Winston. “We just eventually find out.”