I’d Rather Eat Crumbs With Bums… Than Steaks With Snakes!
“It was strange how she found out. One moment she didn’t know; the next minute she did. One moment her mind was as blank as the desert; the next minute the snake of suspicion had slithered into her thoughts, and raised its poisonous head.” Thrity Umrigar
I’ve always learned the hard way…always! Not sure if it’s because the Irish in me demands that I stay true to my hard-headed heritage, or if it’s because I tend to wear rose-colored glasses and choose to see the good in everyone and every situation, until it’s absolutely no longer possible? Regardless of the why, it is what it is, and has proven to be the source of innumerable life lessons.
That little piece of magic on an isle in Southeast Georgia…
When Al first started working at the storied, oceanside Georgian resort, I had no idea about the part it would play in the puzzle that would become our future; it came after Emily’s birth, and followed Prince Bandar’s embezzlement suit, which left Al shaken, both emotionally and financially. During the easy-going days of our courtship, Al’s time was filled with exotic cars and “tony” Concours d’ Elegance trips, hours upon hours spent on the tennis court or basking poolside to deepen his already tanned, dark Italian complexion; partnering with Paulo on a restaurant start-up in his new home town of Rancho Santa Fe; fancy, European shopping excursions, including one trip, when I accompanied him to Switzerland and we acquired several, large, unique works of art, in addition to making a number of hushed stops at a certain Swiss bank. The significant multi-million dollar settlement that Al was compelled to negotiate following Prince Bandar’s service of Embezzlement charges in New York created an ugly reality and new life circumstance for Al. He was forced to exchange the opulence of his past many years, in order to work again. Al worked non-stop to “drum up” meetings with potential new clients, interviewed for any and all projects offered him, and pursued anything which might generate huge wealth once again and restore the public acclaim that appeared to be the basis of Al’s identity and self-esteem!
Our life and daily routine was completely reimagined. Suddenly, and with a furious intensity like nothing I’d ever witnessed, Al began networking; placing and receiving a continuous stream of never-ending phone calls, always while vigorously pacing the hallways and patios of our home; and when he wasn’t talking and pacing, he was sending and receiving endless reams of faxes; he spent countless hours at the drafting table/desk of the small home office at Rancho Cielo, and boarded numerous flights between California, New York, London, even Baku, and when the addition of Georgia was added to the rotation, that became our “new norm.” There were a number of different projects which captured Al’s interest, including a fascinating opportunity to join forces again with Paulo, on a huge hotel project in Azerbajian, with the Pritzker family and Hyatt notoriety as springboard. Al’s main focus, however, was a project presented to him by a hugely respected icon from his Dayton, Ohio days, when Al led the flagship firm of Edward Durell Stone and was busy designing college, hospital and office building campuses, theater projects, as well as overseeing multiple museum, and art installations.
“Mac the Knife” (on the right) in his early 90’s but still at the top of his game, pictured with a revered U.S. District Court Judge at a party we threw in 2006 at Cottage 64, intended to be a farewell to and swan song for our time in Georgia.
The new project, reconnected Al with the former President of Mead Paper, a celebrated captain of industry, author of elite business practices, widely, sought-after Board Member and leader of multiple philanthropic, research and innovative intellectual property outlets; “Mac, the Knife,” as he was affectionately, yet aptly, nicknamed, had always worked well with Al on past projects, and was responsible for introducing Al to the beautiful coastal Georgian community that had once been a retreat and second home, for Mac and his family, but over the recent few years, had taken center stage and was now their main home and the focus of Mac’s still intensely keen mind. Al displayed a thoughtful combination of both respect and fondness for Mac, that I had never seen him extend before, and would prove to be the driving force behind the complete overhaul of Al’s schedule and “new life.”
Al and BubbaIII…
The story behind this fresh business opportunity and southern environment was, both, historical and supremely interesting. The fabled resort, and the family responsible for its stewardship, was ripe with richly layered, and romantic stories of distinguished visitors, including Presidents, Kings and Queens, all who took respite beneath the picturesque, moss-draped, centuries-old Oaks and luxuriated on expansive patios, beside the sophisticated casinos and cocktail lounges adjoining miles of seaside splendor. The entire resort, and its vast array of holdings was all part of a family-owned legacy, consisting of miles and miles, and acres and acres, of debt-free real estate; a considerable bit of which paralleled the southeastern shores of coastal Georgia, but also included a wide and vast swath of inland properties, as well. In the early to mid 1990’s, while a generational passing of the management torch was taking place, Al was introduced and (somewhat) welcomed to the fold of this iconic Georgia landmark, and its affable, yet quirky caretakers. While, he would never completely shed the “stigma of his Yankee background,” Al’s qualifications and resume, far, far surpassed, the self-serving, grandiose ego of the family-owned company’s new generational “guardian,” Bubba3! This family member, next in line to take over representation of the company, lead the board of directors and guide all future business and facility decisions was sorely lacking both appropriate qualifications, or any real-life, legitimate, independent work experience. Furthermore, what Bubba3 lacked in substance, he, unfortunately, over compensated for, with a hugely inflated sense of self-importance, and a pompous arrogance, usually reserved for individuals who had, at the very least, accomplished even a single past achievement; not the case here! What he did have, aside from his ruddy complexion, “Yacht-sized” ego, and amazingly gracious and sweet waif of a wife, was an incredibly large family tree, with a confusing, and extensive lineage that resembled a tangled, intricately, and often too closely woven, spider web. The soft, and extensive threads that created the web thus far, had managed to amass a vast, debt-free, and stunningly pristine fortune in real estate holdings, and had also created a resort and social experience that was, all at once, reminiscent of a luxurious, yet familial and warm embodiment of a bygone era; beckoning generation after generation of well-mannered, beautifully presented, individuals who were destined, and determined to preserve the integrity of their families and the heritage they, both, represented and deserved.
Our Beautiful Rancho Santa Fe Home…7024 Rancho Cielo
Occasionally, Emily and I would accompany him on those trips south, but back then, it was Al who did the majority of travel. This went on and even increased in scale as the years passed by. The years from 1994 through 2000, passed swiftly, and were punctuated with many milestones; including our move from Rancho Santa Fe to Santa Ynez, where my family of origin had spent so many years, and where I had attended and graduated from the small, local, private high school. Those same years marked the arrival of Al’s oldest daughter from New York, who was a happy and welcome addition to our home for the year she spent living with us, prior to moving into a charming little home of her own just a short stretch down the road; the blessing and birth of our second child, who also just happened to be Al’s first and only son; my two health scares with Necrotizing Faciitis; and the two major redo’s on our beautiful and sprawling hilltop home, which provided the perfect backdrop for every holiday, Sunday get-together, and any other occasion, all of which, included family and visitors alike, in addition to playing the “host” site for my youngest sister, Lilith’s wedding reception.
My sister Lilith, on her wedding day… Our Santa Ynez Home, certainly provided a gorgeous backdrop for the wedding and reception “she just had to have!”
The arrival of the year 2000, and the mark of a new century, also brought an additional base of operations, where our little family would spend extended periods of time in the South, and facilitated what had become Al’s all-encompassing new business interest; at least three quarters of his time, if not more, was spent in that, little crescent of the western-most pocket of south Georgia’s coastline. Not only did the new residence symbolize a much more comfortable, stable stronghold for Al when he was away from home and working, but he viewed it as a wise investment, and had structured some type of deferred compensation package with the resort’s owners and board of directors, that would prove to become the first of MANY more money-making opportunities, and a staggeringly significant assortment of asset acquisitions. (Details to follow below…) With the explosion of growth and development, that the Georgian resort, and its tremendous and varying real estate holdings was experiencing, so was Al’s workload. By the time Thanksgiving 2001 arrived, Al relayed to me, that he was going to have to spend the next many months that would follow the Christmas holidays, in Georgia, and he wanted the kids and I to join him. That announcement was a loaded statement, containing, both, mixed messages and hidden meanings. As the words left Al’s lips, I could sense his underlying tone; it was neither a question, nor an invitation…but, rather a command, that was dressed up with the promise of “more quality family time, a wonderful experience for the kids and me, and a less stressed and better attitude that Al would have, and then be able to offer us, his family.” He continued the sales pitch, in the now soft, subdued tone he took, when he was attempting to communicate vulnerability or feigned emotion (which when I look back now, I see it, for what it actually was, veiled manipulation, at which Al was a master); nonetheless, he went on… “he knew the past few years had taken a toll on our marriage, as he was traveling non-stop, and when he was home, he just wanted to play tennis, watch sports on TV, and ‘check out;’ he knew that he had showed absolutely zero interest, or intention, to interact in either capacity of husband or father, much less take part in any extended family, or social, gatherings of any kind.” The Georgia project with its broad scope of work; and the entourage of people “fawning at his brilliance,” from the most elevated to the simplest, and everything in between, had already returned Al back to the self- assured man I met in his “pre-embezzlement days.” The adrenaline rush and ideal mixture of power and control that Bandar’s embezzlement lawsuit had stripped him of in 1993, was back… with all its swagger and glory. It was no secret to me, after the years we had spent together, that the greatest “turn-on” Al could feel was when he was making deals…directing people, overseeing projects, controlling situations, gaining assets and commanding an elevated level of attention that fueled his ego, and empowered him like nothing else could!
Here is that “elevated level of attention” to which I often refer.
The atmosphere in that sleepy, seaside enclave of Georgian wealth and notoriety, combined with the wholesome, deeply respectful, gracious hospitality of so many of its inhabitants, in contrast to the new charge of command, progress, and the inevitable greed that always seems to accompany such explosive growth was, even, back then, a perfect storm, predicting the enormous trouble, debauchery, and betrayal that was ahead. Al’s devout “following” (his term, not mine) was an uncomfortable conundrum for me and my children, as we diligently tried to assimilate into the culture.
My father, Andrew, in Brewton Alabama… I always did love me some southern…
I had always been raised with the background of Southern hospitality and manners, and was trying my best to follow suit while raising my own two children. Both my parents had been born in Alabama, and while my Mother’s family was somewhat transient to the area, as my Grandfather’s position as one of the founders of I.D.S., dictated that he and his family moved around a great deal when not at his Minneapolis, Minnesota base; in contrast, my Father’s family was all from Brewton, Alabama and had been founders of the W.T. Smith Lumber Company. That history was dear to me, and there was a large part of the traditional Southern culture that I closely identified with, and stirred a swell of pride in my heart…that was my conundrum. I loved it there. For the first time in a long time, I was immersed in a culture that felt like home; my husband was intellectually engaged and emotionally upbeat, we actually had a social life that was rewarding for both of us, and there was a substantial, physical boundary from my family of origin….something that made my life with Al, WAAAY easier. The other side of the coin was that my kids missed HOME; they missed their family, the life where they felt comfortable, and the security of what they had always known. I confess to spending a great deal of time doing some truly serious soul-searching and feeling a good deal of bitter, emotional upheaval throughout those years. My truth, was that I was happy in both places, but I was also keenly aware that my marriage seemed to fare far better when we were in Georgia, and, while my kids enjoyed brief stints in Georgia, they desperately wanted to be home, in California. Those were complicated times, to say the least.
I loved the Southern life, smocked dresses and those “Big Georgia Bows!”
The immersion for my kids and I as we stepped into that new life and southern world, was a combo plate…odd, difficult, fun, different, challenging, filled with perks, and a hundred other similar, yet contrasting descriptors! We spent 2001 and 2002, splitting the school year between California, (September thru December), and Georgia (from January thru May); not an easy feat or adjustment for either of my two kids. It was the middle of summer 2002, when we were home in California, and Al “suggested” to me one morning over coffee, which I served him every morning in bed, while he watched “Imus in the Morning,” that it was imperative he spend the next several years primarily in Georgia? Other than to be taken a bit by surprise, I genuinely don’t recall all the immediate emotions I felt, but I do remember thinking “oh sh**” how am I going to introduce and navigate this new set of circumstances to our children? Even today, I’m not 100% sure how I accomplished that task...the transition? But handle it, I (we) did, because Georgia is where my children would attend school full-time from 2003 thru September of 2008.
I do remember, however, asserting myself, (one of very few instances when I was that bold) and calmly, but firmly insisted that if I was to accommodate this “request” of Al’s, and if we were, indeed, to spend that much time in Georgia, far away from the comforts of home, and family, there would be a few “additions and alterations to the existing rules!” The first item on my brief, but non-negotiable, list was a different house, with much more space. The first “O.F.” house was lovely, but it had an almost non-existent yard, with the exception of a pool, and it also fronted the renown golf course, where the famed 2001 Walker Cup had taken place, but afforded ZERO PRIVACY, and even less space for two children, and our couple of dogs to safely play. Comparing ‘that’ to the 7500 square foot home that was positioned at the peak of 24 acres, complete with tennis court, enormous swimming pool adjacent to an acre of flat and grassy backyard, was also home to a huge playground and custom treehouse, and the “O.F.”1 house did not make for a compelling sales pitch. That a colony of alligators appeared almost daily on the golf course just beyond the stone patio, which bordered the pool, and which my 4 year old son endeavored daily to get out and chase about, or be chased, was probably the tipping point. Those Alligators resulted in a win for me on that count? The next key issue was the subject of our travel, and the occasions that I insisted on spending at home in California, as well as the precise scheduling of both those considerations. For most of the preceding years, whether it was Emily and I traveling back and forth during our New York days, or more recently the travel of both the kids and I between home and Georgia, one of Al’s secretaries or assistants had always seen to arranging the travel and flight details. That would have to change! No longer was I willing to endure someone else’s idea of a reasonable travel experience (particularly when the “someone” had never made the trip themselves) PERIOD! Any given day of travel between Santa Ynez, California and our Georgian destination, could reliably consume 17-18 hours, and in a worse case scenario (one which happened quite frequently) it could take upwards of 21 hours. Those travel days, were mine to deal with on my own, as Al would have, magically, had to be in place prior to our arrival. More often than not, those days would include leaving our Santa Ynez home at some frightfully early hour in the morning (usually around 4:30 am) driving the two+ hour car ride to LAX, where I would wrangle my kids, potentially six, or more, enormous suitcases, a dog or two, check in curbside, make our way to whatever flight gate was noted on our boarding passes, then wait for, and endure the five hour flight to Atlanta, where we would disembark, race to the next terminal, gate and subsequent one hour flight into Jacksonville, where we would wait to claim our baggage, before loading a disheveled mess of cranky travelers…kids, mom, dogs and luggage into whatever vehicle and driver Al would have directed to pick up our motley crew. Could it get any worse; indeed it could and did, with another hour’s drive from Jacksonville to Sea Island. Prior to putting my foot down regarding the new procedures that would accompany our future travel arrangements; the majority of those travel days were spent in “Coach!” No more; from that time on, Al acquiesced that I would be allowed to schedule the timing, day, flights, and while it sounds a bit snooty, the trips made were to be First Class, or nothing! Al travelled First Class without exception…even following the embezzlement, and now things were very different. His financial success had soared, maybe even surpassing the pre-Embezzlement stage. It shall suffice to say…future travel days were far more palatable!
Eventually Al was “flying so high,” he purchased a Lear jet… and I must confess, flying privately doesn’t suck…
It hardly seems possible to contemplate everything that occurred between my assertion and standing up for myself back then in 2003, and the events that were to unfold, the “snakes” that would appear in the guise of friendships, or the betrayals that would occur at every level, and in every aspect of life, be it in Georgia or California….but snakes and betrayals would prove to be abundantly plentiful; just wait!
Not the best photo of me, but Al and Bubba3, were flying high upon the grand opening of The Lodge at Sea Island.
What I also find oddly coincidental, and definitely warrants further review, is that both Al and Bubba3 initiated and navigated the waters of bankruptcy proceedings during almost the EXACT same time frame? Bubba3’s didn’t last as long as Al’s, but those two court actions imposed crippling damage on the people they drug through each of the enormously costly proceedings. Both Bubba3 and Al each had a “posse” of backup support…judicial indiscretions and interventions occurred, and at least one to two menacing individuals were as focused on Bubba3 and Al’s survival, as they were their own! It’s a cautionary tale, but true…beware of snakes hiding in plain sight!
It’s fascinating to watch the way financial assets get moved around and hidden, so as not-disclosed in divorce or bankruptcy proceedings.
I suppose I should consider those years akin to “continuing education;” you know, like when you go back to college to take classes later in life; maybe pottery or photography? My continuing education was, a little bit like obtaining what I consider to be the equivalent of a law degree (kind of)! Did you know that in a bankruptcy proceeding, even if you’re NOT the person who filed for bankruptcy….but, you are owed any sum of money by the “bankrupt party,” you, too, will need to retain appropriate legal counsel to represent your interests? That Al’s bankruptcy was filed in February of 2009 and his case wasn’t closed until 2014, meant that I was “treated” to all those extra years of education in addition to the legal fees I had no choice but to pay…over $300,000 in B/K legal fees alone! The legal equivalent of “tuition,” I guess, and yet I don’t have a law degree? And truth be told, I really should have been awarded a dual, no a triple major; as I simultaneously “earned” a “family law degree” in both California and Georgia, all the while going through the bankruptcy court/course,too! Wow….until right now, this very moment, I never knew how uniquely qualified I am in so many varied areas!
Turns out… Snakes train other snakes in their image… And these two are no exception! (More on this later…) Al and Billy Ray “taking a meeting” at hilltop Roblar home.
Keep your eyes peeled for one of my next “thesis papers”.… all about Serpentology (a.k.a., the study of snakes) and, as it happens, Al, Bubba3, Billy Ray, WH, TH, and K. Ass all have the unique distinction of being both Serpent and (you may want to look this one up; as it’s not a common legal term) Ophidiophiles, too! At least it’s reassuring to know this field of research and study does not discriminate; male snakes, female snakes…they all exist, and chances are fair, you’ve got one or two in your life. Watch your step!
P.S., It’s no wonder I have to wear glasses now; between these degrees, the research that goes into them, and the hindsight that’s required to watch your back…it’s all exhausting, on your eyes, as well as every other part!
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