Floyd, left, and Gladys, right, before Gladys bolted from their pen in Albemarle County back on November 10. Photo: Courtesy Millie Cathcart
On November 29, the day after Thanksgiving, we posted a story about Gladys the emu and the Cathcarts of Albemarle County. That holiday had been incomplete for the family, because Gladys—one of three emus who live on the Cathcart farm near Carter’s Bridge—was still missing after bolting from her pen with her sister Mabel ten days earlier. (Their brother, Floyd, stayed behind.)
Rip Cathcart and one of his three beloved emus. It’s likely he’ll spend Christmas without one of them, Gladys, because she’s been on the loose for weeks. Photo: Courtesy Millie Cathcart
After searching for the big birds (only ostriches are larger) and responding to a flurry of reported sightings and photographs posted online, Rip Cathcart, 62, and his wife, Millie, 55, rescued Mabel. She was in Schuyler, about 13 miles away from home, which would be incredible if emus weren’t capable of running as fast as 30 miles per hour. A father and son had spotted the bird while hunting and managed to capture and hold her until Rip and Millie arrived.
Millie Cathcart said that with the exception of a few trolling comments, the community response via social media—NextDoor.com, Charlottesville/Albemarle Lost & Found Pets, Facebook—was heartwarming. People wanted to help. People did help. Good Samaritans exist!
After our story came out, and readers (many thousands of them, according to Facebook and C-VILLE Weekly site analytics) discovered that Gladys was still at large, Cathcart received word from another Schuyler resident.
“This past Friday [December 6] a man in Schuyler heard strange noises when he was out on his property,” Cathcart related via email. “He had read your article and knew that Gladys was still on the loose! He went home and did some Google and YouTube research on emu noises, and is pretty sure that’s what he heard. He called my husband’s office, and they called me and connected us. We have a glimmer of hope!
“This Good Samaritan is not giving up easily,” the email continues. “He called me on Saturday [December 7] and planned to spend several hours on his property searching. He had a bucket of organic sunflower seeds for her, and some rope, and I told him the details of how Rip and I secured Mabel so we could put her in my car. He said he is very good with all kinds of animals, and seems to look at this as an interesting challenge!
“He called me with an update yesterday (Sunday). He spent 2-3 hours both days searching, and heard rustling leaves, but no Gladys. Unfortunately, today was a cold rainy day and she’s probably hunkered down somewhere in thick bushes for shelter. I am amazed and thankful for folks like him who are spending their time to help. He has researched and read up on Emus, and he’s all set. I hope their paths cross and the next phone call I get from him is great news!”
What we have here is a story of love, hope, and community, and beautiful examples of the kindness of strangers as well as human respect and affinity for animals. On one hand, the tale is terribly sad—Gladys is still missing, and the Cathcarts will spend another big holiday unsure of her whereabouts and well-being.
But on the other hand, it is encouraging. Collectively, we are all too well aware of the rancor and divisiveness among our fellow human beings. Reading and hearing the news of the day can be emotionally and psychically exhausting. Here in Charlottesville, you may think, If I hear one more damn thing about those Confederate statues, my head is going to explode!
It might be better to reflect for a minute about Gladys the emu. As we here at C-VILLE Weekly have discovered, Millie and Rip Cathcart are remarkable people. We would like to think that they set an example for us all. Have we spent too much time and too many words on a trifling saga about a big bird? That may be a valid criticism, but we would urge you to view our coverage of Gladys in the context of our other work. A cover story about The Haven homeless shelter, a heartrending profile of jazz great Roland Wiggins, an examination of the death of a man who died while trying to cross the treacherous Route 29… We believe that all of these stories deserve to be told (otherwise we wouldn’t publish them, natch) and discussed, because telling and sharing stories creates powerful glue.
With this in mind, we will leave you with the content of a recent text message from Millie Cathcart. (Please forgive us if sharing it seems a bit self-indulgent.) As the saying goes, “The heart is a very, very resilient little muscle.”
“Unfortunately, nothing new, no sightings or information for weeks. We continue to hope that someone has taken Gladys in and given her a new home. It has been amazing how many people we know, and have met, who have read your story! Our daughter was at Orangetheory [Fitness], and someone who knew her, but who she didn’t know, started talking about your story. Soon the entire lobby was talking about it. Your story brought 10 unrelated people together—all had read it!”
And with that, we wish you all the best this holiday season and an excellent New Year!
Robin Felder will go to market next year with three types of "varietal gin" and brandies made with apples, blood peaches, and Burford pears grown on his property. He says the pears are difficult to grow, because they're susceptible to disease and pest damage, so he's been fine-tuning planting patterns and maintenance: "If you don't get the farming right, you're not going to get the brandy right." Photo: John Robinson
Robin Felder sees connections. For instance, when he installed the 250-gallon solid copper still at his and his wife Mary’s hilltop home near North Garden, he knew that the high-tech machine would need a considerable water source to cool and condense the evaporated alcohol into the final, drinkable product. The swimming pool, sunk subtly into the ground in front of their residence, is, oh, about a hundred paces away from the freestanding still house, close enough to reach with a pipe carrying hot steam, so… You can see where this is leading. Even in the dead of winter, a dip in the warm water awaits.
That detail provides a glimpse into the expansive mind of a distinguished UVA professor of pathology who is also an entrepreneur and inventor. Felder, 65, holds a PhD in biochemistry from Georgetown, did his post-doctoral training at the National Institutes of Health, and has launched nine ventures out of UVA’s business-incubator program. His list of 27 patents and patents pending—mostly in robotics and biomedical sensory technologies—starts in 1994 and runs to 2018.
Roughly five years ago, then 30 years into his “day job” at the university, Felder decided to indulge his passion. He had started home-brewing as a teenager, with his military father’s help. “He was all about self-sufficiency, a real DIY guy,” Felder says. Nearly 50 years later—next April and sometime in the summer or fall, respectively—Felder will go to market with three types of “varietal gin” (he has applied to trademark the phrase) and brandies made with apples, blood peaches, and Burford pears. Because the apple distillate lacks a distinct “nose,” it is currently gaining one by resting in repurposed bourbon barrels from Felder’s neighbor, Ragged Branch Distillery.
No prices have been set, but the spirits will demand a premium, due to the labor-intensive production and large quantity of raw materials required to make small amounts of the finished product. “Three bushels of Burford pears—that’s about 120 pounds—go into making one 375ml bottle of pear brandy,” Felder says.
Felder grows the pears on the couple’s 24-acre plot. Like the abundant 2019 grape harvest in central Virginia, Felder’s pear trees delivered a record yield of 4,000 pounds this fall. He credits the bounty to the dry, hot weather, and to the counsel of Tom Burford, the master orchardist of Vintage Virginia Apples and Albemarle CiderWorks. (Known as “Professor Apple,” Burford’s also adept with other fruits. The Burford pear is named for him.)
“Burford pear is difficult to grow—susceptible to disease and damage by pests,” says Felder, who uses only organic methods. “Tom really helped me with planting and maintenance issues. If you don’t get the farming right, you’re not going to get the brandy right.”
A slender man with clear green eyes and thick blond hair parted on the left, Felder wears pressed khakis and a crisp light-blue oxford shirt with the collar buttoned down beneath a V-neck sweater.
“I reached a certain age where I had a choice between a little red Mercedes convertible to drive around in and cheer me up, or a still,” says Felder. With a hearty endorsement from Mary, to whom he’s been married for 45 years, he chose the latter.
We are sitting in the living room of the couple’s home, Montepiccolo—which means “tiny mountain,” a wink at Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello. The view filling the glass walls, facing southwest, displays dimming sunlight on the colorful fall foliage. Mountains ripple in the distance—the tall one, more than 30 miles away, is Wintergreen.
“The Mercedes is really not ‘him,’” Mary says. The corners of her husband’s lips curl into a little smile. “I’m a farmer,” he says. “I drive a Toyota pickup truck.”
The statement would be false modesty if it weren’t true, just as the Jefferson reference would be grandiose if Felder weren’t both a dedicated orchardist and accomplished inventor, a person, like Jefferson, interested in earthy pursuits as well as intellectual ones.
As the sun sinks into the mountains, Felder leads the way down the stone steps from the driveway to the distillery. Inside, a crescent-shaped bar curves to the left of the bulbous, gleaming still. The room is immaculate—a laboratory—and the air is redolent with the aroma of booze and fruit. Felder explains that, after taking a three-day course in Lexington, Kentucky, the U.S. mecca of distilling education and experimentation, he elected to get the same brand of still he learned on.
It’s made by Vendome, founded in Louisville, Kentucky, in the early 1900s. Felder’s model is steam-heated and can distill up to 600 gallons of gin a day. “I didn’t want to be limited by the still I bought, I wanted to be limited by my market,” he says.
He steps behind the bar and pours small samples of gin and pear brandy into fluted glasses. He informs me that I am an “official pre-market tester” not a “taster,” because he’s not yet licensed for the latter. The liquors are aromatic and smooth, with pine and citrus (gin) and deep fruit flavors (brandy) that linger long after a sip.
These are Robin Felder’s next great inventions—a delicious melding of art and science—and soon you’ll be able to sample them for yourself.
The east-facing rear of the house shows the simplicity of the design, large windows and balcony that connect the interior with the outdoors, and in the shadow on the lower right, the overhead door that opens to the basement gym. Photo: Stephen Barling
The couple was living in Boston when they started looking for an architect to build their house on a mountaintop in Albemarle County. It would have to be a unique design, one that meshed with their reverence for nature and rigorous commitment to personal fitness (he’s a serious hiker and outdoorsman, she’s an avid runner). Because their work lives required extensive travel and stretches of time apart, the home must also serve as a sanctuary, a place that would make them feel sheltered and safe, a haven to reconnect and reaffirm their place in the world, together. The structure would also have to feel and look substantial—not necessarily large and certainly not a McMansion, but a building with enough physical bearing and architectural gravitas to crown a prospect that commanded a vast and humbling view of nature’s grandeur.
“Harmony, comfort, healing, health—we wanted our home to promote and express these things,” the husband says. “The connection to nature is deliberate.” Photo: Stephen Barling
As for the style of the house, both the husband and wife had strong childhood memories of design and architecture that they wanted it to express. He was born and grew into his teens in Finland (his father was a university professor there). It was a place where “we thought of good design as a higher thing but also part of everyday life,” he says. “I grew up with kids across the economic spectrum, and every one of them had an Alvar Aalto piece in their house.”
The husband’s mention of Aalto is significant. He was a giant of Scandinavian design who practiced from the 1920s through the 1970s. The guiding concept of his work, on which he partnered with his wife, Aino Aalto, was design as “Gesamtkunstwerk,” which translates to “a total work of art.” In practice this meant that the Aaltos designed not only buildings but many of the objects within them, from glassware to furniture, in shapes that were biomorphic, taking cues from nature.
The wife is Virginia born and bred, a farmgirl who spent much of her youth outside. She recalls summers that included raiding the family garden, picking and eating vegetables fresh off the plants. She also remembers the first time that a work of architecture captured her imagination. It was Frank Lloyd Wright’s masterpiece, Fallingwater. “When I saw a picture of that as a kid, I thought it was the coolest,” she says.
With a stream running beneath its foundation and leading to a waterfall, one of Falling-water’s core characteristics is its integration with the site. Large stones bulge up and out of the living room floor, and at one point along the foundation, naturally occurring stone rises a foot above the floorline before conjoining with a built wall, a literal expression of the connection between the natural and manmade. This is a central tenet of both Japanese and organic architecture: harmony between humans and nature. The wife may not have consciously registered this lofty concept as a child, but Fallingwater stuck with her into adulthood.
Building materials like Pennsylvania bluestone and Buckingham County slate enhance the connection to the natural environment. The steel I-beams at the top of the wall support the green roof above the garage, which creates a canopy above the walkway. Photo: Stephen Barling
The husband began the nitty-gritty of the search in the simplest way. “I Googled ‘modern architects, Virginia,’” he says.
A few clicks later he was poring over the extensive portfolio of Richmond’s Patrick Farley, who had earned both his bachelors and masters in architecture at UVA. The husband was impressed by the clean lines and simple geometry of Farley’s work. The buildings, mostly residential, were substantial yet unpretentious, and integrated well with their sites, some wild and some suburban.
After reviewing Farley’s work with her husband, the wife emailed the architect in November 2015. He was the one and only person they interviewed for the job. Their sensibilities and aesthetics aligned, and work on the mountaintop site soon began.
Above it all
How can a home exist so close to town and yet feel so middle-of-nowhere? That’s what I wondered as I drove there on a typically hot summer day, July 3, to be precise. The serpentine driveway climbed steadily for a couple of miles that seemed like five, at least. The ascent was so steep that I feared my car would overheat, which it did, with steam pouring out from under the hood. But when I finally reached the summit and saw the house, I knew the effort was worth it.
Standing on the fresh asphalt, I felt relieved—and not just because my car hadn’t died. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, enveloped in silence and surrounded by trees. In photographs on Farley’s website, the house looks imposing, but it’s inviting in person. The architect met me at the front door, where I kicked off my shoes (stocking feet only on the smooth wood floors) and stepped into a little foyer adjoining the dining room, immediately noticing the profusion of shiny leaves covering the vertical garden to my left, on the entry wall. I said a few words while greeting the couple and Farley. But when I looked up, I was drawn to the towering windows that form the east-facing wall, speechless. I was in a sort of trance as I backed away from the glass, turned to the right, and stepped down into the living room, scanning the mountainous horizon—again, through huge glass panes—from the north all the way to the southeast. On distant hilltops, I saw clearings around white or red dots that indicated other significant homesites, and I wondered whether if someone might be looking back at me.
“So, what is it we’re doing here?” the husband asked, perhaps a little annoyed by my wandering.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I blurted. “Let’s sit and talk.”
We took seats at the dining room table and dove in.
“We knew we wanted modern,” the husband said. “There’s Miami Vice-modern that’s cool in a Lamborghini kind of way. But we wanted something more in the direction of Scandinavian-meets-the-Pacific Northwest.”
“One of the things we were attempting to do is connect the materials inside and out,” Farley said. “That’s why you’re surrounded by mostly wood surfaces, and the glass, floor to ceiling, provides a connection to the outdoors and the big trees that you see.”
A view from above reveals the expansive green rooftops and photovoltaic panels—both of which help to make the house extremely energy-efficient. The tapered, V-shaped beams were milled from cedar, and the shape is a tip of the hat to Virginia. Photo: Stephen Barling
Those trees, stout hardwoods, were visible mostly to the north. I could see them through a rectangular window, maybe three feet high, that ran along the wall above the kitchen sink and counter. The husband confessed that he had wanted to clear those trees in order to expand the view even further. The wife smiled and shook her head slowly.
She said the trees remained, in part, to preserve the feeling that the house is embedded in the landscape, in nature. “It’s intentional—we tried to hide it,” she said.
“It’s not a triumph over nature, it’s a submission,” the husband said.
We had veered into Zen philosophy, which seemed apt.
No one spoke for a few beats. Farley took the cue.
“Acoustics are important,” he said. “The wood and other natural materials, the deep beams in the ceiling—they all absorb sound. In the Miami Vice version of modern there’s a lot of reverb. Sound bounces off the hard surfaces.”
Foundational to Farley’s architecture is “biophilia,” a rarely used term that draws from the hypothesis first promulgated by the eminent scientist Edward O. Wilson in his 1984 book of the same name. The idea rests on the notion that humans innately seek connections with nature. Farley attended a lecture by Wilson in 2003 and read the book, which the architect—like many in the profession who are dedicated to environmentally conscious design and building—adopted as a touchstone.
The design proportions, inside and out, draw upon the Fibonacci sequence, which is based on naturally occurring patterns like the arrangement of seeds in a sunflower. This is said to bring feelings of harmony and an intuitive connection with the natural world. Nice views also help. Photo: Stephen Barling
Back to the thing about sound. Wright’s Fallingwater is often cited as a prime example of biophilic architecture, even though it was built in 1939, decades before the idea surfaced. Sound is one element of the human connection to nature inherent in biophilic architecture—and one constantly hears the rush of water at the house that Wright built.
I asked the couple why they were sold on Farley from the get-go. The wife immediately mentioned the green roof that is part of the architect’s repertoire. At the couple’s house, above the garage, the expansive roof is thickly planted with sedum and other plants.
“We knew he could pull it off,” the husband said, turning to address Farley. “We just wanted you to channel your inner Wright.”
The architect and his clients smile. The husband’s comment was a good-natured jab, a lighthearted damning with faint praise, because he and his wife know that Farley’s work goes well beyond mere mimicry. The proportions of the rooms, and the built-in interior elements, such as the cherry-wood cabinetry that conceals the television and other home entertainment equipment in the family room, are based on the Fibonacci sequence, a formula invented by the Italian mathematician of the Middle Ages. The simple definition of the sequence is that each number is the sum of the two previous numerals: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, and so on. Its application in design and architecture is more complex, but basically, it is said to produce harmonious spaces and objects, in part because it is the codification of natural phenomena. The spiraling patterns of a nautilus shell’s chambers, the seeds in the face of a sunflower, a pine cone, the growth points of a trees branches and twigs—all are physical expressions of the Fibonacci sequence.
No wall divides the television-viewing space from the rest of the interior, preserving the sense of openness and the views. Photo: Stephen Barling
“Harmony, comfort, healing, health—we wanted our home to promote and express these things,” the husband says. “The connection to nature is deliberate. There will always be something about a close connection to nature that is healing.” (I had noticed that he was walking with a slight limp; turns out he was recovering from a leg fracture sustained in a cycling accident.)
“We’re out here on 200 acres—out here among all the critters,” the wife says.
But the natural setting is just part of it. The live roof—which is technological as well as natural, because it acts as insulation and sucks carbon dioxide out of the air—is one high-tech element that makes the home “green” and energy-efficient. Geothermal wells are used for temperature control. Photovoltaic panels provide electricity.
The conversation peters out, and the day stretches into the afternoon. The couple is anticipating receiving guests and attending an Independence Day party. So, after a quick tour of the house—three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a large home-office upstairs, and downstairs a well-equipped gym, which includes an infinity lap pool—we bid one another adieu.
It has been an extraordinary visit—two remarkable people living in a beautiful home, designed with great care and purpose by an unusual (in the best sense) architect—and I am reluctant to leave. Down at the bottom of the mountain, people are rushing about, stocking up for July 4th barbecues. Up here things are quiet, and a one-of-a-kind house blends with nature. It’s not a bad place to be, even if your car overheats while getting there.
Ivy residents will lose the convenience—and community—of Toddsbury when it closes October 11. (Staff Photo)
Two days before the October 11 closing of Toddsbury of Ivy, a beloved convenience store in the heart of the small western Albemarle community, its parking lot was paved. That’s something the store’s owner says he’s been asking the landlord to do for over a year, and maintenance was a factor in Bruce Kirtley’s decision to close shop.
“It’s been 25 years and I’m 65 years old,” says Kirtley. “It’s time to move on.”
The property is owned by Phil Dulaney, whose sizable land holdings include a once-thriving tourist center with a Holiday Inn and Howard Johnson at the intersection of the Blue Ridge and Shenandoah national parks; Charlottesville Oil across from the Boar’s Head Inn on Ivy Road, where, according to multiple sources, the roof leaks so badly that employees move desks when it rains; and Swannanoa palace, a historic landmark that has been used to store construction debris from other Dulaney properties.
In a 2015 story, “The ruins of Afton Mountain: Eyesores along a scenic byway,” C-VILLE estimated his commercial real estate, most of it in prime locations, was worth at least $30 million. Dulaney did not return a phone message left at Charlottesville Oil.
“I did 90 to 95 percent of repairs over 25 years,” says Kirtley, who says he tried for the past 15 years to buy the property from Dulaney. “If I owned it, it would look a lot different. You can’t keep putting your own money into property you don’t own.”
Ivy residents are mourning the loss of Toddsbury, where they could pop in to buy a decent bottle of wine, coffee, or homemade chicken pot pie from its deli. “Construction guys are here in the morning, doctors and lawyers going home stop in the evening,” says Kirtley.
“You’re closing? That stinks,” says Jeff Shooter, who was in the store October 5. “Where will I stop for my beer?”
“This is like a living room for the neighborhood,” says Stuart Opler, one of Toddsbury’s six employees—two full time, four part time—who will be out of a job.
Former Albemarle supervisor Sally Thomas, who used to live in nearby West Leigh, says the store has a long and complex history that includes a murder before Kirtley leased the property. She writes on Facebook, “[T]he main loss will be the amazing community center that the Kirtleys created with generosity and empathy. This is not ‘just’ a store. It’s an institution.”
One of the property’s ongoing issues is its septic system, which “is probably older than you and me,” says Kirtley. A new septic tank would cost $9,000, but Kirtley believes that would only be a temporary fix. The site is hampered by a creek, and it could cost as much as $60,000 to tap into the county’s sewer line, although he says he’s been told it can be done for $39,000.
“If I owned it, I’d fix it,” says Kirtley. “That’s what rational people do. His properties speak for themselves.”
He calls Dulaney “an honorable man,” but as a landlord, he’s been “unconventional.” Says Kirtley, “His actions—or lack of action—makes this the best decision for me.”
Three Board of Supervisors candidates showed up for a Senior Statesman forum: incumbent Ann Mallek and Steve Harvey for White Hall, and Donna Price for the Scottsville District. (Photo: Staff Photo)
Longtime Albemarle County Supervisor Ann Mallek hasn’t had a challenger to represent the White Hall District for the past two elections. That changed with Republican Steve Harvey, whose nickname is “Super Steve.” At a September 11 Senior Statesman forum, the former Army helicopter pilot drew some clear lines about his priorities.
In his introduction, after listing his wife and three children, he announced, “I am a Christian,” a declaration of faith that doesn’t usually come up in county races.
Harvey grew up in Albemarle County and attended Meriwether Lewis Elementary while his father studied at the JAG school at UVA. After a spinal cord injury sustained while flying a Blackhawk helicopter, he returned to Albemarle and built a home on 14 acres in the Earlysville area.
Like many other tractor-riding residents who showed up at a Mallek town hall in 2018, he was upset with the county plan to enact a stormwater utility fee in the rural area. When asked if he’d support a pledge to oppose the now-tabled “rain tax,” Harvey responded, “Not just yes. I’m a heck yes.”
Mallek stressed that she’d changed her position on the stormwater fee, and that having those funds come fromgeneral revenue was the right solution.
And Scottsville District Dem candidate Donna Price, an attorney and retired Navy captain who was there without Republican opponent Mike Hallahan, said, “I try to avoid words like ‘always’ and ‘never,’” noting the “existential threat to the environment.”
Harvey also went after Mallek for the county’s mostly uncontested 1.5-cent-per-$100 property tax rate increase this year. “When the rate goes up, it goes up forever,” he said. With the 4 percent increase in real estate assessments, he found the hikes “particularly pernicious.”
He asserted that at the same time, “We’ve lost jobs by the hundreds” because regulations “improperly” stymied economic growth.
Mallek said she looked forward to reading the study that says Albemarle has lost so many jobs, mentioning WillowTree and Perrone Robotics, both of which are expandingin the county.
She reminded attendees that during the recession in 2010, the county zeroed out its capital budget for three years and made no infrastructure expenditures. It also lost 15 percent of its staff. “We are now crawling our way back out of that deficit,” she said.
Harvey is also ready to challenge the vexing-to-county-residents, yet ironclad revenue-sharing agreement with Charlottesville. Albemarle agreed in 1982 to hand over a portion of its property tax revenue every year (roughly $15 million in the 2019 fiscal year) in exchange for the city not annexing county land. He said the agreement should be renegotiated every 10 years, and railed against a deal that was agreed to exist in perpetuity.
“Every new supervisor who’s been elected has revisited this issue,” said Mallek. “I agree it was awful.”She said she worked with Delegate Steve Landes to overturn it—to no avail.
Price said she’d been asked if she’d join a lawsuit. “If there was a legal basis to overturn it, someone would have overturned it. We need to change the Dillon Rule,” which mandates that a locality only has the powers bestowed upon it by the General Assembly.
The candidates ended with a debate on the more beautiful district—White Hall or Scottsville.
Price urged support of local businesses, and said that both Democrats and Republicans had wanted her to work on the Senate Armed Services Committee. “I can work across the aisle.” Harvey said the 6-0 votes by the Board of Supervisors need to change, and he vowed again to oppose the stormwater fee.
Albemarle is growing by 1,500 people a year, said Mallek. The areas with the highest populations have the highest taxes and demand for services, she said.
Albemarle County affirmed that Carter Hilliard’s company in rural Free Union is an agricultural services business.
Staff photo
Close to 100 of the landed gentry filled Lane Auditorium for an Albemarle Board of Zoning Appeals hearing, a crowd size rarely seen during the usual Board of Supervisors meetings there.
Well-heeled rural residents lined up for and against a Free Union Road business, lobbing accusations of “Californian,” “cronyism,” and “sleight of hand” in a June 4 hearing to determine whether Hilliard Estate and Land Management is a landscape company—forbidden commercial activity in the rural area—or one that provides agricultural services, which is allowed.
Former Tupperware CEO Rick Goings lives at Eagle Hill Farm, an estate once owned by Scripps heiress Betty Scripps. Across the street is a 217-acre parcel owned by Mary Scott and John “J.B.” Birdsall, who serves on the boards of Piedmont Environmental Council and the Thomas Jefferson Foundation, which owns Monticello.
The Birdsalls leased the property to Carter Hilliard and company. Goings, his wife Susan, and a dozen neighbors contend the bulk of Hilliard’s business is landscaping, and they complain they weren’t notified Albemarle had allowed commercial activity. The land also is in a conservation easement.
The county determined that Hilliard’s business provides agricultural services, such as fencing, vineyard trellising, planting, and burning, a by-right use, and confirmed that in a July 26, 2018, letter. By-right activity does not require neighbor notification. And the Virginia Outdoors Foundation, which holds the conservation easement, confirms that ag services are allowed under the easement.
Hilliard says his company acts as a farm manager for large and midsize farms, providing the equipment that wouldn’t be cost-effective for them to buy. He got a permit to build a 4,500-square-foot storage barn in November, and in January, the complaints began.
Then-zoning administrator Amelia McCulley, now deputy director of community development, investigated, and in a February 14 letter, said she stood by her original determination that Hilliard’s business was not in violation of county ordinances.
But the Goings appealed that decision, and at the June 4 meeting, both sides had lawyered up. Eleven of the 16 speakers were there in support of Hilliard, including Stuart and Ali King of King Family Vineyards. Buddy-from-college Stuart said he’d borrowed equipment from Hilliard to use at the vineyards on “many occasions.”
Andrew Baldwin, who owns Piedmont Place in Crozet and who built million-dollar condo project 550 Water, said he was founder of eco-development Bundoran Farm, where Hilliard does maintenance. Baldwin called the appeal “ridiculous.”
Susan Goings said she and her husband had been accused of being “Californians” for complaining about Hilliard. She told the board she cared about open-space protection, and had contributed $20,000 to the Birdsall and Hilliards’ lawsuit against Foxfield to prevent the sale of the 179-acre racetrack.
The county’s July 2018 letter of determination said Hilliard could perform landscaping services as an incidental use. Goings reported multiple lawn mowers and weed trimmers, which she said she didn’t see at her grandfather’s farm.
And she referred to high-end catalog Scout, where last year HELM advertised landscaping services, while this year “all the landscaping equipment is gone.” She also said the company had changed its website so that the landscaping services that were prominent a year ago are absent, and the focus is estate management.
“They’re trying to use some fancy language to call it something else, but if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, then it is a duck,” she said.
McCulley said in the Goings appeal of her decision, the burden was on them to prove their “irrelevant or unsubstantiated claims.”
Assistant county attorney Rich DeLoria reiterated that McCulley’s original go-ahead allowed some landscaping, and that the Goings had 30 days to appeal—and missed that deadline.
David Thomas, the lawyer for the Goings, suggested McCulley had been misled by Hilliard, and the county took his word about the nature of his business without demanding financial information about the sources of his revenue. He also alleged that when the county did an inspection, Hilliard was notified in advance.
Not true, said McCulley, who also said it was “very rare” to ask for financial information.
“If Mr. Hilliard wanted to hide, he’d never have gone to the zoning administrator in the first place,” said DeLoria. “The appellant is calling him and the zoning administrator liars.”
New Board of Zoning Appeals member Marcia Joseph described the situation as a “he said, she said.” But she came back to McCulley’s original letter, which allowed landscaping as a secondary use.
Former Albemarle sheriff Ed Robb, also on the BZA, said, “We look at the facts,” in particular, that the Goings had 30 days to appeal the 2018 determination, and hadn’t.
“This is a messy business,” said appeals board member David Bowerman, who once served on the Board of Supervisors. He voted to support McCulley’s determination, as did the rest of the board.
The 4-0 vote was followed by applause.
After, Hilliard said he appreciated the board’s decision “as I went through the proper channels to do business in Albemarle County.”
“I was shocked,” says Susan Goings. “We’re very concerned about the precedent, not just for Free Union, but for Albemarle County. It seems like a cronyism system.”
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“They’re trying to use some fancy language to call it something else, but If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, then it is a duck.” Susan Goings
In Charlottesville, carbon emissions per household are more than a ton above the national average. Photo: Skyclad Aerial
In the words of Kermit the Frog, it’s not easy being green. Though the Muppet references the color of his amphibian skin, the famous line is a sentiment that also rings true for Charlottesville, where carbon emissions per household are more than a ton above the national average.
With 10 tons of carbon emissions per home annually, the United States trails the considerably more environmentally-friendly Europe by nearly five tons, but “as a city, we’re even further behind,” says Susan Kruse, the executive director of the Charlottesville Climate Collaborative.
Charlottesville lags behind both America and its neighboring continent by clocking in at 11.2 tons of greenhouse gas emissions per household, according to local environmentalists like Kruse, who used an emissions calculator from the California-based Community Climate Solutions.
“We have a lot of work to do,” she says.
City data shows that local greenhouse gas emissions have decreased by nearly a quarter since 2000, from approximately 470,584 metric tons to 362,192 metric tons in 2016. But according to an Environmental Protection Agency equivalency calculator, that’s still enough carbon dioxide to match the greenhouse emissions from 76,899 cars in one year.
Why is an ostensibly progressive community like Charlottesville doing so poorly? Kruse has a few theories, including that the city’s current emissions reduction goal is weak, and the average income here is greater than the national average, so more people own bigger homes and additional vehicles.
“Another factor is that our city was not designed around a robust public transportation system,” she says. “Without an adequate base of affordable housing to serve our community, those who cannot afford to live in Charlottesville rely on their cars to get to work.”
Time for a change
There’s a bit of history to the city’s various attempts to reduce its footprint. In 2011, it committed to a community-wide greenhouse gas reduction goal of 10 percent below those 2000 baseline levels by 2035, a far less ambitious goal than other Virginia cities like Richmond, which has pledged to reduce emissions by 80 percent by 2025. But when city leaders signed on to the Global Covenantof Mayors in June 2017, they agreed to tackle a more aggressive, three-phase goal, which started with an inventory of citywide gas emissions, and will now require setting a new target for reduction, and the development of a climate action plan.
The time may be right, says Susan Elliott, Charlottesville’s Climate Protection Program manager. Given the changes in available technology, cost improvements, utilities integrating more renewables into their fuel mixes, and the city’s increased focus on affordable housing, “Charlottesville is both capable and at a timely point to adopt a new and more ambitious reduction goal,” Elliott says.
She gave the most recent update on this initiative to City Council in November, when she said the inventory phase was finished, and that residential energy, commercial energy, and transportation were the highest contributors to carbon dioxide emissions—at 29.8, 27, and 26.6 percent, respectively. The city then accepted public comments through March to give community members a chance to weigh in on a draft recommendation for an official reduction target and action plan, which will be presented to council May 6.
The Charlottesville Climate Collaborative is one of several groups urging what it calls a “best in class” climate goal of a 45 percent reduction (of 2010 emissions levels) by 2030, with the additional objective of total carbon neutrality by 2050. This is the threshold recommended by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, and one that Elliott says she expects her draft recommendations will reflect.
Albemarle officials recently proposed the same net zero goal for 2050.
But Anna Bella Korbatov, chair of the Cville100 Climate Coalition, says environmentalists are urging local leaders to do more than just set robust climate goals. In order to meet their target, she suggests committing to conducting a greenhouse gas inventory every two years, benchmarking progress, and making the data clearly available to the public to make the process more transparent.
And while Charlottesville is already taking steps to address climate change, areas in which the city could use some work include addressing equity issues, tree cover, and transportation, she adds.
Making goals a reality
“Energy efficiency work is really at the nexus of affordable housing and climate change action,” says Chris Meyer, the executive director of the Local Energy Alliance Program “It is not very sexy, but it delivers immediate results to reduce energy bills [and] related greenhouse gas emissions, and increases a low-income household’s quality of living.”
LEAP is tackling this issue head-on, and in 2018 it delivered free energy efficiency improvements—such as new insulation, LED light bulbs, and aerators for faucets and shower heads—to 475 low-income homes in Charlottesville and Albemarle, with financial support from the city, county, and Dominion Energy.
Charlotte and Ralph Terrell are grateful to the Local Energy Alliance Program for improvements that keep their home warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Photo: Eze Amos
Over the past several years, LEAP has made multiple improvements to Charlotte and Ralph Terrell’s home in the 10th and Page neighborhood, including insulating multiple walls, ceilings, and closets. They’ve also made safety enhancements to their dryer hose, installed an upstairs heating and cooling unit, and replaced 13 60-year-old windows.
“Our gas bill has gone down considerably because the house is holding the heat in the winter,” and staying cool in the summer, says Charlotte. “We are very, very thankful for that.”
One of the major challenges Meyer’s organization faces is identifying those in need. “There are resources available, we just have a tough time connecting with those who are eligible,” he says.
Another way to make a home—and a city—more efficient is quite simple, says Wild Virginia board member and lifelong nature lover Lil Williams. Look no further than the trees.
“You don’t have to recreate the wheel,” she says. “You have to plant the right kind of trees in the right place and you have to maintain them.”
Cities are heat islands that absorb and retain warmth, and are generally a few degrees warmer than rural areas. Planting shade trees is proven to decrease a city’s temperature from two to nine degrees based on the type and location, she says.
Due to increasing development and natural causes, Virginia cities are losing approximately 3,000 acres of trees per year, and globally, 20 percent of total greenhouse gas emissions can be attributed to deforestation, says Williams.
“In Charlottesville, we’ve cut down whole swaths of forest and put in apartments and shopping centers,” she adds.
While development may be inevitable, Williams recommends the city plant broad-leaf deciduous trees in more densely populated areas with higher pollution levels, such as near schools, hospitals, and in disadvantaged communities, where shade is proven to decrease the cost of air conditioning and electricity.
The city’s 2007 comprehensive plan established a goal of 40 percent tree cover, and a 2009 study found that number at 47 percent. When the city reassessed it in 2015, tree cover had decreased by 2 percent.
Williams expects tree cover has continued to decrease over time, and seemingly without a one-for-one replacement.
A 2018 city “greenprint” noted that, “while 45 percent is a good canopy coverage, the citywide percentage does not tell the whole story,” because 72 percent of that canopy was on private land, and increasing cover would require participation from the private and public sector.
The city’s urban forester, Mike Ronayne, says the tree commission has recently said it would like to instate a 50 percent canopy goal.
Aside from encouraging the planting of more trees, community activists also hope the city’s forthcoming climate action plan will include a better plan for regional transportation, which accounts for 26.6 percent of all local gas emissions.
City residents have long complained about the ineffectiveness of the Charlottesville Area Transit. “People have a hard time getting from point A to point B in a reasonable amount of time,” says C3’s Kruse. “The buses are not always reliable.”
She says the city should look at public transportation and its layout as an aspect of affordability and emissions reduction.
“It’s not just about whether Charlottesville is walkable or bikeable, it also has to have public transit for the people for whom those are not options,” she adds.
Signs of hope
But it’s not all bad news—there are some areas in which the city is successful. Charlottesville has been a leader in piloting and funding climate protection-related programs, including joining the U.S. Mayors Climate Protection Agreement in 2006, and drafting its vision for becoming a “green city” by 2025 three years later, CPG’s Elliott says.
In 2017, Charlottesville was the first Virginia city to earn a SolSmart designation, meaning city leaders incentivized going solar by hosting a community “solarize” campaign, reviewing zoning codes, and identifying and addressing restrictions that prohibited solar development.
Several city buildings—including the Smith Aquatic and Fitness Center, Fontaine Fire Station, and Lugo-McGinness Academy—have installed solar panel systems, and the city tracks their energy production. The solar arrays at Charlottesville High School, installed in 2012, supply about an eighth of the school’s annual electricity usage.
Some private companies have followed suit: Carter Myers Automotive in Albemarle, for example, recently built a solar array that covers more than 90 percent of the dealership’s energy use.
To meet a more ambitious carbon reduction goal, the city will also have to work with UVA, its largest employer. The university has its own climate goal—currently, it’s a 25 percent reduction of 2009 emission levels by 2025. Despite university growth, it has already reduced emissions by nearly 19 percent, says sustainability director Andrea Trimble, and is on a trajectory to meet its goal ahead of schedule. Like the city and county, UVA is in the process of developing a new sustainability plan and more aggressive climate goal, and Trimble says all three entities are working on coordinating their efforts.
Says Kruse, “We have leaders in our community who are stepping out and doing the right thing. What we need to do as a community is learn from those leaders and put forward new policies.”
Corrected April 17 at 1:43pm with the correct figure from the Environmental Protection Agency equivalency calculator.
In elections, it often comes down to name recognition, and former Charlottesville police lieutenant Ronnie Roberts has it. The Albemarle native spent most of his 44-year career in law enforcement working for the city police department, where he rose through the ranks and served as a well-known spokesman.
Roberts announced his candidacy for Albemarle sheriff April 4 in front of the Albemarle courthouse with several dozen supporters present. His old boss, former Charlottesville police chief Tim Longo, introduced Roberts as a man of “honor, dignity, and commitment” with an “unwavering moral compass.”
Also present were several retired top cops, including former city chief Buddy Rittenhouse and former Albemarle sheriff Ed Robb. Not present was Roberts’ former CPD colleague and current Albemarle sheriff, Chip Harding, who has endorsed Chief Deputy Chan Bryant to succeed him.
Roberts, 64, retired from the Charlottesville Police Department in 2014, and took on the job of Louisa chief of police.
He recalled his walks as a lad in Charlottesville past parked Virginia State Police cars. The troopers showed him the inside of their patrol cars. “That walk stayed in my mind,” he said, and influenced his decision to go into law enforcement.
It also brought an awareness of the importance of community policing. “I came to realize I could relate to people,” he said.
“Putting community first” is the theme of his campaign. “I want to take the Albemarle Sheriff’s Office to the next level as a nationally accredited sheriff’s office,” of which there are only four in Virginia, he said.
He also wants to focus on domestic violence, mental health reform, gang activity, and elder abuse. The sheriff’s office is primarily responsible for court security and prisoner transport.
Roberts said he’d been asked by business leaders and county residents to join the race, which has three other candidates: Dems Bryant and Patrick Estes, a UVA football and NFL alum, who will face off in the June 11 primary, and possibly Republican Mike Wagner, a lieutenant with Albemarle police who has filed but has not formally announced a campaign.
Albemarle county exec Jeff Richardson briefs media on the FY 2020 budget, with Lori Allshouse, director of the Office of Management and Budget.
staff photo
Although revenue is up in Albemarle, and county exec Jeff Richardson presented a sunny forecast to the Board of Supervisors February 15, his $457-million fiscal year 2020 budget is based on upping the current property tax rate by 1.5 cents.
He calls the budget, which increases spending 5.7 percent, “an ambitious vision statement that is both grounded in history and aspirational,” anchored by the county’s strategic goals of an “exceptional public education system” and a thriving economy, and “rooted in protecting our environment.”
In addition to the tax increase, the county will see more revenue from property assessments, which increased on average 4 percent. Also up are personal property tax revenues, which Richardson attributes to citizens buying new cars, and sales and food and beverage taxes.
The higher property tax rate was a possibility when voters approved a $35 million bond referendum in 2016 to expand Woodbrook Elementary, but was deferred the past couple of years because of higher revenues, said Richardson.
Now, he wants to dedicate the 1.5-cent tax increase to capital improvements and debt service.
The budget recommends nine priority areas for spending, including economic development, broadband expansion, and parks. Darden Towe will see athletic field improvements, and Hedgerow Park, Buck Island Creek Park, and the Rivanna Reservoir boat launch are slated for funding.
Economic development, such as the county’s wooing of WillowTree, which is going to rehab the aging Woolen Mills factory and bring high-paying tech jobs, is part of the “transformational” investment the county wants to make more of in the 21st century, and Richardson wants to be ready for the next emerging opportunity. “We’ve got to be poised to be able to pivot,” he says.
Sustaining a quality county staff is another budget goal, and if approved, county employees will see a 2.3 percent raise. The proposal adds 15.5 staff positions, including a circuit court clerk, a deputy sheriff, a police officer, and two positions at Parks & Rec.
Revenue sharing—the agreement that the county forks over 10 cents of its property tax rate to the city for stopping annexation in 1982—is always a sore point with county residents. This year that multi-million dollar payment will be down 9.5 percent. The formula used to calculate the payment lags 24 months, and Charlottesville’s 13 percent jump in commercial property tax assessments in 2017 was the “biggest variable,” says Richardson.
County schools get 45 percent of the county’s budget, and Richardson’s budget adds $8.5 million to schools. “An exceptional school system underpins our vision,” he says.
The Board of Supervisors will hold its first budget work session February 21. Read all 300 pages here.
Albemarle County officials are proposing new regulations for local homestays—and local homestay operators don’t understand why.
If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. That seemed to be the overall consensus of community members who spoke up at a crowded January 8 roundtable to discuss potential “homestay” (read: Airbnb) regulations in Albemarle before they go before the planning commission in February.
County staff members say many local homestays aren’t following existing regulations, and in addition to trying to enforce those they’re proposing even more new rules. But residents say these aren’t necessary.
“We are looking to regulate an issue that’s not a big enough issue for us to be investing the time,” said an Old Trail resident and realtor speaking from her seat. She said she has clients on both sides of the argument about whether the county should further manage these types of transient occupancies. “I try to be Switzerland, but I’m also about less regulation and less government involvement in my life.”
For popular homestay sites such as Airbnb, several folks argued that business regulates itself through a guest rating system.
“You live and die by your reviews,” said one attendee. Added another: “Let good old business take place, and it’s going to fall out on its own.”
The second man was perturbed by a seemingly arbitrary 45-day limit the county wants to impose on whole house rentals. The county is also proposing that whole house rentals may only take place where the dwelling is situated on more than five acres, and any rental on a smaller property will be limited to two guest rooms.
He said he inherited a 75-year-old family property. To only be able to rent the whole house for 45 days a year greatly restricts his profit margin.
Amelia McCulley, the county’s director of zoning, attempted to clear up some confusion. Homestay owners with rentals on properties greater than five acres can rent rooms for an unlimited number of days per year, just not their entire houses. Outside of the 45 day limit, an owner or manager must also reside on the property.
That was also a point of contention for some of the 75 attendees, who filled every chair at the meeting.
“Renters tend to be a little more subdued if there’s a responsible party nearby,” explained chief of zoning Bart Svoboda.
One attendee then said that he’s been renting a property he lives only 15 minutes away from. He said he’s had no problems. “We’re there every day, we just don’t sleep there.”
Besides requiring the owner or manager to live on-site, the county only allows homestays to operate in single-family detached homes and only five guest rooms may be rented. Those in favor of not imposing more regulations pointed out the small number of complaints the county has received.
Approximately 350 results turn up on Airbnb for Albemarle County—but it’s difficult to determine whether they’re actually in the county, or just nearby. The county has processed 134 applications for homestays, and senior planner Rebecca Ragsdale says they’ve received 33 related complaints since 2012.
Asked one man at the meeting, “Shouldn’t there be hundreds of complaints and issues if this is a real issue?”
The planning commission will hold a work session on the proposed regulations February 12.
