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We Are C-VILLE

Our We Are C-VILLE issue returns this year with another set of letters from some of our most insightful community members. In celebration of this little town surrounded by mountains, we asked those in politics, government, nonprofits, and even meteorology to tell us what they love about Charlottesville.—Richard DiCicco


Supplied photo

Thanks for asking me to write a love letter to Charlottesville. My relationship with Charlottesville is long and somewhat complicated. After my parents divorced when I was a child, my father moved to Charlottesville. He lived here from the late 1960s until his death in 2012. When I was a kid, Charlottesville was a little foreign, because I didn’t have much contact with my father. My main connection then was due to my grandmother’s frequent surgeries and hospitalizations at UVA Hospital. I remember seeing children playing together outside in the various neighborhoods, which were so different from my home in rural Bath County.

Years later, as a young legislator and a son who was working to develop a relationship with his father, I would stop in Charlottesville to visit my dad when he worked at Brown Toyota, and later for meetings or ball games or to see my friend, Emily Couric, after she was elected to the state Senate.

When Emily passed away after a tenacious battle with pancreatic cancer, I had the opportunity to run for the state Senate. In the years since, I have gotten to know Charlottesville pretty well. The city is made up of so many vibrant neighborhoods, and there are always community events and happenings. I am not much for parades, but I have come to enjoy the Dogwood Festival parade because of the beauty of Charlottesville in the springtime. The blooming dogwoods and smiling faces along the parade route are so much fun.

Like most people, I have taken to the restaurant scene. Whether it is visiting with neighbors at Belmont Pub & Pizza, getting a quick bite to eat on the Downtown Mall during the work day, or trying out a new eatery, the food in Charlottesville is something I love. Anybody who knows me knows that I also love music. Being in Charlottesville has given me the opportunity to see so much more live music than ever before. There are good shows multiple nights a week at a variety of venues. One of my favorite places is The Local on Monday nights, when they have an open-mic night for songwriters. I have heard so many creative voices and good music at that event, and I also have made a lot of good friends. I am constantly amazed at the level of talent and the skilled musicianship that exists in this small corner of the world.

There are issues here like there are anywhere that we need to work through. We have to build a community where everyone can thrive. We have to build a multi-modal transportation system and ensure there is affordable housing for all who choose to live and work here. Charlottesville is a work in progress and we have a lot of work to do, but I like the direction it is going and am proud of so much it already has to offer.

Creigh Deeds
Virginia State Senator


Photo by Eze Amos

My Beloved Charlottesville,

As I sit down to write this letter, my heart is overflowing with gratitude and admiration for this remarkable city and the opportunity to serve this community. Charlottesville, you are more than just a place; you are a community, a home, and a beacon of resilience and strength. From your charming streets to your rolling hills, you captivate me with your grace and history, reminding me of the strength found in unity and diversity.

Communities don’t just happen; they are the result of intentional actions, shared values, and a commitment to building connections with one another. It takes effort, understanding, and a willingness to listen and learn from one another to create a strong and vibrant community. At times the debates, and conversations may be spirited, but each and every time I walk away feeling better about our future.

Charlottesville, you are more than just a city to me. You are a home, a sanctuary, and a source of endless inspiration. Thank you for being a place where dreams are born, and where love knows no bounds. I am forever grateful to be a part of your story, and for the opportunity to earn your trust.

With warmest regards,
Michael Kochis
Charlottesville Chief of Police


Photo by Jen Fariello

Dear Charlottesville,

This past year has shown me how lucky I am to call you home.

On August 1, 2023, one of my best friends lost her 18-year-old son, Aidan, to cancer.

As a baseball player, one of Aidan’s last wishes was to have lights installed at the Pen Park baseball field where he started playing with Central Little League.

Since teaming up with CLL and City Parks & Rec to make this happen, your support for Aidan’s Lights has been phenomenal. From baseball families to folks who confess not knowing much about baseball, the offers of “what can we do” has poured in. The love people have showered on Aidan’s family has been inspiring and heartwarming.

I have called you home since 1990, and I have enjoyed serving you as Clerk of Court since 2012. I thought I could not love you more, but your support of Aidan’s Lights has shown me that I can, in fact, love you more.

With gratitude & love,
Llezelle A. Dugger
Charlottesville Clerk of Court


Photo by Nina Chappell

Over the past year, during my school board campaign, I jokingly called myself the “reluctant politician.” I never intended to make headlines or break fundraising records. I was, and am, just fighting for the kids in our community—kids like my trans daughter or neurodivergent son and thousands of others. I fight because I care about kids, and as the campaign wore on, it became abundantly clear that the thing I love most about Charlottesville (and Albemarle County!) is that this community cares about kids, too.

Charlottesville is the place where my daughter felt safe and loved enough to come out as transgender in seventh grade, where our community of friends, neighbors, teachers, and strangers welcomed her with open, loving arms.

Charlottesville is the place where my son with intellectual and emotional disabilities found inclusion and peace, where he could attend summer camp for the very first time at Camp Hope and just be a kid.

Charlottesville is a community that shows up for LGBTQ+, minority, disabled, and all kids and loves them—hard.

During my campaign, I met thousands of people around Charlottesville, and I saw day in and day out that this community is accepting and progressive. It’s a place where you can fight for the rights of ALL kids and not just be screaming into the wind. Charlottesville is a place that is made up of people who care and who are willing to fight right alongside you so that every child, regardless of their past or path, can know love and be successful.

Allison Spillman
At-Large Representative, Albemarle County School Board


Photo by Eze Amos

Of all the places one could end up in life, I admit Charlottesville was never on my radar, pun intended. To be fair, I wasn’t sure where I would end up. You see, television is a very nomadic business. A few years here, a few years there, one usually works their way up the ladder to hit a career peak at a bigger market. My path turned out different. MUCH different.

A liquidation of my first newsroom in western Pennsylvania in late November 2007 began a search for the second stop on my television “tour de employment.” Where to next? I was fortunate to start in a decent-sized media market, but eight years of frigid, dreary, five-month-long western Pennsylvania winters were enough. I wanted a much brighter environment. I wanted to go someplace where I didn’t have to leave town every weekend to find things to do.

At the same time, I was at a place in my life where a long-term commitment to a city just wasn’t in the plans. I wanted a place where I could work two or three years, sharpen my skills, and then move on to a new city to continue my career. I spent the first 30 years of my life in Pennsylvania; I wanted nothing more than to get out and live in as many places as possible.

Two fellow Penn Staters helped me score an interview for the open chief meteorologist job at CBS19 in December 2007. Now, I’m not much for signs, but there is something perhaps beyond coincidental that both times I drove from Pennsylvania to Charlottesville for the job interviews, the clouds ended at the Virginia border and the sun came out. Eventually I was offered the job and accepted it and began on-air at CBS19 in January 2008, nearly broke and ready for the new environment in what seemed like a cool place to live. But again, only for a few years. It was a big world and I wanted to get out and live it.

Sixteen years, two months, a wife, a house, a few cats, at least 50,000 weathercasts, and several dozen Brazos Tacos later (Philly Style on flour, for the win), you’ve really done something to me, Charlottesville. I didn’t come here and expect to fall in love with you. We were only supposed to be a short-term deal, but along the way I discovered you were exactly what I was looking for. Your four distinct seasons are top-notch, your food and beverage scene unbelievable, your residents welcoming and friendly, and your list of things to do limitless.

I came here as an outsider with zero expectations and no long-term vision of staying, but time has proven otherwise. Not only did you embrace me and welcome me, Charlottesville, you ended up being a wonderful fit. You also taught me that sometimes thinking smaller can lead to much bigger things in life. For that, I will always be grateful.

Travis Koshko
Chief Meteorologist, CBS19 / FOX Virginia / ABC Virginia


Supplied photo

I had to sit with this one for a while. Not because I don’t love Charlottesville (and not in a trite “I Love Cville” way), because I do. It took time, however, to figure out the most honest and authentic way to express that love.

What I realized is one of the best ways to demonstrate your love for something is to hold it accountable to being the best that it can be. That’s what our closest friends and partners do for us. We’re tough on kids because we believe they can be great. We should do the same for our institutions. If you really love something, you’ll resist the gravitational pull of sycophantism and speak truth to power with the goal of growth and positive evolution.

I grew up in Charlottesville. I went to Jackson- Via and rode my bike to Wayside and spent countless hours at the Fry’s Spring’s snack bar. I also got on a bus to Venable for the “QUEST” program and had access to myriad opportunities many of my peers who look like me didn’t.

Living here as an adult comes with an eerie familiarity. We haven’t made much progress on issues of equity. We’ve built big houses, convened countless committees and task forces, and, despite rapid economic improvement, haven’t moved the poverty rate hardly at all. I’m not naïve enough to think I have all the answers, but what I do want is to be part of solutions.

I love Charlottesville enough to work to try and make it better tomorrow than it is today.

Price Thomas
Executive Director, City of Promise


Photo by Eze Amos

Charlottesville. Why do I love you? I can think of a few reasons. I chose you out of anywhere else in the world—that’s pretty indicative alone of my feelings for you. When I’m speaking in this letter to you and about you, I’m going to use “we,” because I am part of you, you are home, and we are a community who works and fights together.

Let’s get straight to the point. Charlottesville, we consistently punch above our weight class. We’re not afraid of surpassing our peers and hanging with the big boys. Budget size doesn’t matter. We get things done. We make the changes we wish to see. This is what makes us different and impressive.

Fear. Fear is not a word I would ever use to describe us. We are a leader. And we are willing to go where most people would be afraid to go.

I chose to join you in 2021. Both personally and professionally, I was attracted to your commitment to affordable housing, relief for elderly and veteran households, commitment to climate action, prioritization of equity, the bold overhaul to zoning, the opportunity to change the narrative in a post-2017 Charlottesville, the true engagement of our public, and of course, your beauty—where one can truly fall in love and stay in love with nature.

Charlottesville, you are a place where I can be authentically me. I’m the most me I’ve ever been now that I’m here. I speak my piece. I’m not scared. And you always keep me curious. You never know what’s coming next.

Thank you, Charlottesville. It is my pleasure to serve you.

Sam Sanders Jr.
Charlottesville City Manager

Categories
Culture

Dear C’ville…

For this year’s We Are C-VILLE, we asked several Charlottesvillians to write love letters to our city. The writers had the freedom to talk about whatever they wanted, in whatever form they would like. Here are five perspectives penned by David Plunkett, Miller Murray Susen, Richelle Claiborne, Michael Payne, and Edwina Herring.


A vault full of treasures

When I was a child, I was obsessed with the vault holding the rarest materials at the Alderman Library at the University of Virginia. My father worked at Alderman, and as a child-care measure my older brother and I were given what we thought was free rein over the nooks and crannies of that magnificent building; from the aircraft carrier-style stairways to the majestic quiet of the McGregor room, we explored and caroused. We saw library staff ever so carefully work on delicate materials from that mysterious vault. I didn’t really understand what was in there, but I was reasonably sure that it was treasure. 

It turns out that it was! The rarest of materials may have been in there, like the Declaration of Independence Collection, the Jorge Louis Borges Collection, the manuscript of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, and many more priceless items. This was my introduction to the world of books and libraries, and it is an apt metaphor—reading is a special combination to unlock a vault full of treasures. 

I spent my childhood days in the libraries of the Charlottesville school system, and my weekends at the wondrous Central Library, ostensibly working on homework but more often relishing the freedom that came with the ability to pull any book with any new world inside of it off the shelf and dive in.

Reading in Charlottesville isn’t just in the libraries. This area is home to more wonderful bookstores and booksellers than you can count. The Virginia Festival of the Book draws readers and writers from around the world to gather and share. The Friends of the Library book sale brought RVs with buyers from out of state to the parking lot at the Gordon Avenue Library, before [the sale moved to its] new location at Albemarle Square (coming soon, April 1-9!). 

Entire communities in Charlottesville, Albemarle, Greene, Louisa, and Nelson have rallied to support libraries and reading, with strong backing from their local governments, which recognize the importance of these values. Schools, homes, churches, medical facilities…wherever you go, there are books and opportunities to share them.  

When I left Charlottesville to study and work elsewhere, I just assumed that this is what every community had to offer. It took leaving to make me realize that this isn’t the case, and that Charlottesville and central Virginia are unique and special in the shared love of reading.

We are part of a community that strives to grow, learn, and connect, even when that isn’t easy. Sometimes growing, learning, and connecting takes us on different paths that are hard to reconcile, but this place tries to do just that. Our community needs the shared experience and growth that comes with reading. 

Come to any JMRL library on any given day and you will see just that, people gathering and sharing, meeting and discussing, or just finding their own worlds to explore. These worlds can be mirrors to reflect themselves, windows to see what the lives of others are like, or sliding doors to walk through into these new worlds and experiences. Not every community values these things like we do, and I wouldn’t want to be in any other place. 

Photo by Eze Amos.

By David Plunkett

Jefferson Madison Regional Library Director

A sharpened appreciation

I have deep family roots in Charlottesville, but I wasn’t even actually born here. Neither were my parents. My dad’s parents moved to the area from New York when he was 7, and he grew up one of eight brothers on Panorama Farms in Earlysville. He left after high school and returned when his eldest, me, was 2. I attended public school K-12 (Go Black Knights Class of ’92), played soccer and acted in community theater, and enjoyed big, rowdy family dinners at the farm. But it never occurred to me to want to live here as an adult. I blasted off after high school, sure the adventures of my real life would find me elsewhere. 

I explored and made homes in some great places; from the Northeast to the West Coast to the Great Lakes to a year spent mainly overseas where home was wherever I unpacked my toothbrush. I tried out all sorts of jobs along the way, like editing textbooks, project managing website redesigns, and even working on a one-woman show. I met a great guy, and we bought a little house with an orange tree in the backyard in the Central Valley of California. 

I was weathering the trials of parenting a sleep-resistant toddler while pregnant, and wondering what happened to my so-called “career,” when my mom fell ill. I was thousands of miles away feeling helpless and desperate and so afraid she would die before my children even got to know her. My stress and anxiety surfaced a truth: The most important thing to me is my relationships. And so many of the people I love most in the world are in Charlottesville. 

So, like my father before me, I returned to town with a 2-year-old and another baby on the way. Thankfully my mom’s health improved, and far from me swooping in to provide them assistance, we fell into a rhythm where my parents would take our kids for at least half a day every weekend. They’ve had many adventures knocking around Panorama Farms, getting in trouble with their doting, ridiculously lenient grandfather. 

Living away for so many years sharpened my appreciation for Charlottesville. I revel in the sweet, polleny springs; the muggy green summers rattling with cicadas; the golden autumns of pyrotechnic leaves; and the mild winters where bulky snow boots mostly stay in the closet. Far from the paucity of adult opportunities I’d imagined, I’ve been lucky to enjoy a wonderful work-life balance here, taking full advantage of our incredible community organizations. I’ve taught drama and playwriting at Live Arts and Village School, among others; I contribute vocals and guitar to a band at The Front Porch; I take writing classes at WriterHouse, run the Four Miler and Ten Miler every year, and have even wrassled with the Charlottesville Lady Arm Wrestlers. 

Most important of all is family time. I was with my mom in the house where I grew up when she died this past fall—our children knew and loved her well and we mourn together, which is hard but right. Holiday dinners are as huge, noisy, and joyous for our kids as they were for me. My dad cheers at his grandkids’ plays, recitals, and games, like he did at mine. I used to ride my bike past the place we live now, not really noticing it, my head full of dreams of greener pastures. I write this looking out at our green yard, in March, my birthday month, one of the many birthdays I have spent in Charlottesville, and I’m so grateful. I may not have been born here, but I’m from here through and through, and this is home.

Photo by Eze Amos.

Miller Murray Susen

Freelance Writer, Director, and Editor

Dilly dally to the downtown mall

big dreams
take small steps
in Charlottesville
drowned by fluff
it’s enough to be talented
and travel in artsy circles
or with athletic teams
or Bible study groups
if you have no roots here
don’t worry baby
you can plant them
with seeds from the 
farmer’s market
and fertilize them
with coffee from 
Higher Grounds
on Hardy Drive
they won’t take hold
there is no soil there
and sad to say
very few dreams to keep you company
unless you look
into the eyes of a child
i surveyed these streets
with wonder
up Gordon Avenue 
to the library
where i could escape
the day to day doldrum
of my existence with
Nancy Drew or
Encyclopedia Brown
then down Rugby
passing people who thought
nothing of me
or even wondered
what i may become
one day
much less how my
invisibility to them
made me see myself
then to the Corner
for peeps in shop windows
and fried ice cream
from Marita’s Cantina
then i’d
dilly dally to the downtown mall
past historic churches
and monuments
circling back across railroad tracks
my great-great-grandfather worked on
every day
to home
i held my dreams to my chest
knowing they could not be realized
in Charlottesville
waiting for my great escape to freedom
hoping Harriet would jump out of my books
and show me the way
i found freedom in college
just in not being from
the place i was at
free to be whatever i commanded
discovering parts of me
that had gone unnoticed and undeveloped
unattended to and unloved
found it all and lost it in a 
crapshoot on a corner
in downtown Newark
waiting for a bus to take me to work
i was too far away from Charlottesville
and it called me back
back to family
both blood and self-defined
back so i could discard the parts
that no longer fit me
circumventing catastrophe
by retrieving bits of old me
and attaching them to the me
right now
but the past is heavy
and one-sided
it unbalances the future
in no time
so instead
i replanted my roots
in Charlottesville
balancing the sharp edges
of responsibility 
and inspiration
creating a new life
from the ashes of the old
recognizing
there’s no place
like home
Photo by Tristan Williams.

Richelle Claiborne

Singer, songwriter, actress, and poet

Envisioning better futures

What’s to love about Charlottesville? A few collected memories:

Seeing Slick Rick—newly free from exile in the U.K.—at a music venue adjacent to a curiously located ice rink (now demolished for an award-winning “unique and innovative retail and commercial office development featuring flexible space alternatives”). Being swarmed by friendly toads in the backfields of Riverview Park on a spring evening. Not having enough fingers to count the people I know prepared to get into a blood feud over the zoning of a parcel. Canvassing the beautifully modest homes along Druid Ave., once affordable to working families looking to establish roots or artists with ambiguous dreams. Getting lost in unplatted alleyways. Striking up a conversation at 3am in Lucky 7. Knowing multiple UVA professors who dream of redistributing UVA’s $14.5 billion endowment to the people of Charlottesville. Meeting the resident advisors at Westhaven and Friendship Court who are cautiously optimistic about designing the future of their own communities. Catching the militantly non-commercial programming on Charlottesville Public Access TV. Paying cash for a footlong at Jak ‘N Jil. Listening to the 100 Proof Band in Tonsler Park. Planning with community organizers in the Swanson room of the Central Library. Enjoying the Dewberry Hotel as a piece of conceptual art about the U.S. real estate market. Receiving daily emails about ambitious new ideas for something that could help the community, a few of which by-and-by turn into reality.

Of course, what makes Charlottesville a city worth loving is the people. Charlottesville at its best is an ideal it often strives for but only occasionally achieves: a place where people can come together across divides to collectively create community and envision better futures. To some, it feels as if this is already the reality of Charlottesville. To others, it feels like a dream they’ve been left out of.

Charlottesville is not immune to the trends of 21st-century America: increased atomization, rising economic inequality, a growing affordable housing shortage, corporate monopolization, the erasure of local community for increased profits, divisions accelerated by algorithms engineered to maximize time on platform.

There’s no stopping the reality that significant change is coming to Charlottesville over the coming years. But it’s up to us to determine: To whose benefit?

With cautious optimism, I continue to believe that Charlottesville is filled with people who love our community enough to collectively find good answers.

Photo by Eze Amos.

Michael Payne

Charlottesville City Council Member

We make each other better

How to measure the immeasurable? 
I can’t. But I’ll try. 
I love you, Charlottesville. 
Here’s the shape of my Why. 

I love you the way that I like to be loved. 
With a clear and honest gaze.
I love you with my eyes and heart open. 
Not only through a sentimental haze. 

I love you beyond Beauty. 
But please allow me to proceed 
to briefly honor your loveliness.
For Beautiful you are indeed.

I love your elegant frame. Your good bones, 
Exquisite. From eloquent skyline to rustic cobblestones.
The way the sunset blushes fuchsia, as if it is thrilled
to be settling languidly in the embrace of the hills. 

I love you all-natural.
Dappled in the sunlight’s sight.
I love reaching out for a cluster of stars. 
Nestled, like diamonds, in a velvety jewel box of night. 

Love you festooned in Dogwood. 
Crepe Myrtle. Red buds. 
Love the grass under my feet 
and my hands in the mud.

I love the melody and the cadence 
of the river’s laugh.
As my heart dips its hands 
in its restorative bath. 

I love the well-trodden paths 
on your gently care-worn face. 
Love how your countenance reflects your 
experience. And Grace.

I love you beyond Attraction.
Love is more than chemistry. 
But I cannot deny my reaction 
to our shared proximity. 

I love to follow you into blue moonlight. 
Breathing music in and out.
Your rocks, your rolls, your Symphonies. 
The whispers and the shouts.

I want to dance out my troubles 
until I’m Cville Strong.
Through Starchild nights that crescendo 
and dissolve into daybreak and birdsong.

I love your theaters, restaurants, 
venues and galleries,
Want your bakeries, beverages. 
Your salt, heat and calories.

You are food and life.
Several senses of delight.
I haven’t tried everything on the menu.
But I might.

Let’s talk about Love.

Love like a light in the window.
Love like a beckoning shore.
Love like the one that knows you best. 
Familiar as your own front door. 

Love like visitors on their way through town. 
And the ones who stay a while.
Love through years and generations. 
Love through tears.
Love in truths and in trials.

Love for Family and friends that I hold dear. 
Love for our neighbors.
For the eclectic, collected stories
of our community’s collaborators. 

Love is not even defined by uninterrupted
     togetherness.
We can also take healthy space from each other. 
Sometimes love includes Leaving. Living.
     Learning something new. 
Sometimes love is returning home with renewed 
     energy and appreciation for what I have. 
Returning with the knowledge that 
I do love Charlottesville. 
Not out of habit, or by default, or through muscle 
     memory, or nostalgia, or complacency,
but through my own deliberate and discerning 
     Choosing. 
I think there’s something very life-affirming about 
     this kind of love. 

And I just think we make each other better.
     Charlottesville.
I hope that you agree.
And I feel grateful to be here. Loving you. 
In the ways that I love to be.
Photo by Eze Amos.

Love,

Edwina Herring

Teacher. Musician. Storyteller.