from madison avenue to madison county
by julie parker

So they loaded up the truck and moved [from] Beverly. Hills, that is. No more swimming pools, no more movie stars. (Well, maybe one.)

Okay, okay, so it wasn’t quite Beverly Hills—it was the Rancho Equestrian district of Burbank. There were hills for sure, of the Hollywood variety and horses too, traipsing down the street. Martha explains. “Remember Mr. Ed? He lived in this neighborhood. But I thought there was something wrong with this picture. I mean shouldn’t horses be in pastures and not on city streets?” So, Martha Abraham loaded up Gary, Henry and Purrs (husband, dog and cat), and moved to the hills of Madison County.....somewhat less glam than the Hills of Beverly...er, Burbank.

Martha left behind her a long career in the fashion industry. She began as a buyer at I Magnin, blossomed with a line of sweaters she designed under her own label [MARTHA ABRAHAM-check your closet!] MARTHA ABRAHAM sweaters graced the aisles of I Magnin, Nordstroms, Neiman Marcus, and the like. Martha’s career in fashion and generous expense account took her from her home bases in New York City, San Francisco and LA around the world so many times that her passport unfurls to display pages of visa stamps from around the world. She hip- hopped to Europe and Asia with hardly more fanfare than we’d hip-hop to Atlanta. Her fashion career culminated in what she says was her most fun gig: a VP at Fredericks of Hollywood! It does sound racy for this sweet Southern gal, but as Martha put it, “Every woman has a goddess gene and that is what I wanted to tap into—letting women feel great about themselves in the bedroom no matter their shape or size”.
Don’t get me wrong: despite hob-nobbing for years with the rich and well-dressed (or undressed), she is actually a good ole girl, hailing originally from Newport, Arkansas. Gary too had less glam roots than you might expect, born in Atlanta and bouncing around as a Navy brat. But “Join the Navy and see the world” didn’t work out for him. His Dad was stationed in Millington, a training center outside of Memphis, three times before Gary was 17. He was destined to be a Southerner even though his three high school years spent in Hawaii led him to believe he was an Island boy.

When Martha and Gary decided a major change in their lives was in order, they began to dream of running a B&B in the bucolic countryside of the Blue Ridge Mountains, not so distant in flavor from their own roots. So, Ponder Cove was born. Now the only wild parties at their house are comprised of a flock of wild turkeys that have taken a liking to their property. And then there are those cows that keep escaping their pasture on the other side of the mountain and wandering over to Martha and Gary’s deck, where they like to hang out in the shade until the farmer comes from over yonder to Martha and Gary’s holler to reclaim his wandering cows.

Now Martha and Gary are at the start of another major shift in their lives together, working side by side, getting Ponder Cove ready to open. The two of them go back 35 years, first as friends, then as sweethearts, before they went their separate ways for 25 years. They married 6 years ago with Martha wearing a big red dress and blue suede shoes to honor Elvis, of course. Gary Van Rawlins, the yin to Martha’s yang, was a high-end furniture maker to the stars. [See some of his exquisite work on the Ponder Cove website....] Even Henry (also on the site) got in on the movie star scene: he was badly bitten by a pit bull mix whose human was none other than Mean Dr Green from ER.

So how’s the move been from Madison Avenue (okay, via Burbank, if you want to be technical) to Madison County? Martha has been shedding her skin: both the wardrobe and the veneer assumed to fit the role of fashion diva. You might say she is reclaiming her roots. Martha and Gary are here not just to run a business—they are becoming involved in the community they loved on sight. It seems the folk here—grounded by their heritage—have lent a helping hand. After the last big rain, Martha and Gary lost ½ mile of gravel road. They said no thank you to every offer of a gravel person or a grader to be sent their way outside of the community. “I’ll wait for the farmer to give us advice,” and so they did. The road is back in and no one from Buncombe County had to be called.

Then there is the discovery of Jack Jarvis. [See this month's centerfold. Martha and Gary—brand new in town—were the ones who told us about Jack Jarvis.] Martha gushes when she speaks of what she calls the best kept secret east of the Mississippi. Born and bred in Mars Hill, Jack is a master gardener, soon to be featured on HGTV. His style of Japanese landscaping lends itself to Martha and Gary’s holler and has agreed to take them on as a client. As Martha put it: “Our good fortune to find someone so close with a style that rivals anyone I’ve met in California or Japan for that matter.”

Martha is very conscious that being part of a community is giving and receiving. You can find her at the visitors center in Mars Hill every Tuesday morning donating her time, and recently her donation of a very special basket of goodies to the Bluff Mountain Festival to support the Madison County Arts Council brought in a $50 donation. She hasn’t dropped her glam completely—the basket rivaled anything Martha Stewart would have thrown together, full of embroidered napkins, and featuring a very special recipe and a tribute to Martha’s Nannie Bess.

So, the road is back in and work on the house is going “ full tilt boogey” . They will be open soon for all of us to see. (In the meantime, go to pondercove.com for a peak). Then Gary will pick up the pace to construct his new shop and return to his furniture making. Taking it all one day at a time, Martha has adopted the attitude, “We’ll open when we open”. Right now she seems content to relax and ponder her good fortune of being in these hills, sharing them with those who were here before her. She puts it best when she says, “I am overwhelmed by the spirit of the mountains and its people. From those brought here by birth to the newcomers, there is an unspoken bond to protect what is before us. I feel by some great power we were beckoned, and now embraced as mountaineers. I will forever be humbled by this opportunity”

Of course, the ending of this article is obvious. I ask Martha. “So, do you miss the bright lights?” She says, “Excuse me, what do you mean bright lights? Have you ever seen the lightning bug show at Ponder Cove?”