January is National Mentor Month. It’s also National First Month of the Year, as well as National Something Month. To acknowledge mentors, firsts and something, this week’s MountainTops will feature your Mountain Times staff’s favorite mentors or something.

Melanie Davis: Melissa Gee and Edward Given

Melissa and Melanie are sisters. This is them doing something sisterly.

As my regular beat of covering crime does not allow room for humor, I usually try to find something smile-worthy for Mountain Tops. For mentors, I considered my cat, Lilly, for teaching me the importance of a good nap.

A nagging feeling, however, urged me to consider taking this assignment seriously. I have experienced the benefit of several strong people in my life. A single favorite would be impossible to chose. There are professional mentors and family members that have guided me, whether intentionally or not, over the years.

My oldest sister, Melissa Davis Gee, has been a very strong mentor throughout my childhood and beyond. Seven years my senior, I was first fascinated by her high school friends, then reveled in her college experience. Unknowingly, she led by example, working two jobs through college and graduating with honors. Now, I admire her as she continues her education, returning to school to attain a masters degree. One aspect that stands out significantly in our relationship was her inclusion of a younger sister, even when that what wasn’t considered “cool,” a confidence boost to an awkward adolescent. As an adult, I continue to look to and consult Melissa for guidance.

Professionally, I wouldn’t be writing this little tidbit at all were it not for Edward Given, editor of the Braxton Citizens’ News in Sutton, W. Va. He took a chance on a very inexperienced, aspiring journalist and showed patience as I learned the ins and outs of the newspaper business. He also did not limit me to only one aspect; given opened circulation, sales, writing, layout and everything in between. Given also gave me the opportunity to attend a West Virgina Press Association Convention during my first year on the job. In turn, he opened my eyes to the career I have come to love. Without his influence, I would not know what a column inch is, or have come to appreciate the gentle static of a scanner buzzing in the background.

Jeff Eason: Bo, Tim, Andy, Elton and Bart

“Blackbird, fly, blackbird, fly into the light of the dark black night.”

When I was 14, I got an acoustic guitar for Christmas. I fell in love with learning chords and figuring out songs from records. At the time I was a freshman at the Marietta Johnson School of Organic Education in Fairhope, Alabama. One of my friends at Organic was a senior named Bo McKenzie, and he could play the heck out of a guitar (he later fronted the Auburn-based rock band Abacus). We liked listening to the same music and soon he was showing me how to play songs by Led Zeppelin, Yes, Todd Rundgren and Frank Zappa. It was incredibly intimidating for a novice guitarist like myself to try to learn these songs—and the truth is that I never got a proper handle on some of them, but the struggle to master them helped me become a proficient guitarist in a short period of time.

There were some other guitarists in Fairhope, namely Tim Wampler, Andy Jeffries, Elton Tanner and Bart DuMont, who lent their time and expertise to me. Tim could play anything that Kiss or Alice Cooper ever committed to vinyl and showed me a lot about barre chords. Andy showed me my first blues licks and taught me how to play leads based on the chordal configuration of a song (as opposed to playing leads in one key). Elton was fond of singer-songwriter material, and he and I played some CSNY tunes for the entire school at an assembly when I was a sophomore. Bart taught me some strumming and finger-picking techniques, as well as how to play the Beatles’ song “Blackbird.” It remains one of my favorite songs to play, 30 years later! To Bo, Tim, Andy, Elton and Bart I say thanks!

Jason Reagan: Meemaw and Pappy

It’s the ultimate cliché, but I have to admit my two favorite mentors are my mother and father.

Both endured the Great Depression and World War II, and their resilient spirits gave me a perspective that is unique among my generation of 30-somethings.

My father, Paul Erskine “Pappy” Reagan, grew up in rural central Tennessee before shipping off to India and continuing to China and Burma (Myanmar) down that famous Burma Road in the war. He later worked as a physicist at the Oak Ridge National Laboratory and as an Angus cattle farmer, which once again gave me a life perspective unlike that of my peers.

Billie Jean “Meemaw” Reagan also grew up in rural middle Tennessee and married my father at the age of 16. For 50-plus years, she has raised and nurtured six children who have gone on to become engineers, health-care administrators, government officials, teachers, nurses and one hack journalist.

From Pappy, I have learned:
•Always keep your keys and money in your pockets.
•Always bring a jacket — wherever you go. If it’s too hot, you can sit on it.
•A reliable car is much more valuable than a trendy one.
•Honest love doesn’t require saying, “I love you.”
•Job satisfaction is all about doing what you love, not doing what looks important to your peers.
•You’re never too old to learn a new skill (he learned to use a PC in his late 60s).

Meemaw has taught me:
•Love your family even when they let you down and no matter how often they may do it.
•Discipline doesn’t have to be tough to be effective.
•The best reality show is the un-reality of a well-written novel read on a rainy day.
•Well-baked desserts may very well change the world for the better (Brownies not bombs).
•The wisdom of experience and reason almost always trumps formal education.
•Sometimes leaving a problem alone is the best solution.

The two of them taught me this above all (along with Thoreau) — to succeed in life: simplify, simplify, simplify.

Caroline Monday: Morgan Monday

Caroline couldn’t have taken this picture if Morgan hadn’t shown her how to use the camera.

I have had many role models who helped me and encouraged me as I walked this path we call life. They leant me advice and gave me the space I needed to grow into the person I was meant to be.

Of all my mentors, there is one who I have known the longest and who has been the most consistent in guiding me throughout life’s many trials and tribulations. That person is my sister, Morgan Monday.

I knew from a young age that Morgan’s presence in my life would change the cushy set up I had prior to her birth. Back then I didn’t know how to handle this new influence, asking my Aunt Marilyn if she could please take our new baby home with her. It’s a good thing she didn’t, because without Morgan, we would all be lost, or so she tells me.

Though she is two years younger than me, Morgan began forcing her guidance on my life from a very young age. Not only is she always right and I’m always wrong, she is an authority on absolutely everything in the entire world. She has instructed me on everything from how to drive to what jeans don’t make my butt look fat to why it is my turn to do the dishes, even though I’m sure I did them last time.

When I was younger, I resented her abrasive instructional techniques. I merely thought she was the bossiest person I had ever met. It was not until my adult years that I realized the very personality traits that I found overbearing were really leadership qualities, making her perfect for her future career in business management.

If it weren’t for my little sis, I probably wouldn’t even know how to tie my own shoes, not to mention how to handle my career and love life.

Scott Nicholson: The Man with No Feet

Mentors...I take them where I find them, but I try not to put too much stock in any one source. Mostly I use people’s examples instead of sitting at their feet and trying to glean wisdom and insight. Like with the guru who tries to sell me secrets to living beyond capitalism, or the Green Peace activists who drive to the rallies in their gas-hog SUVs, I prefer to judge action instead of words. Mostly I seek those who find simpler ways to live or can work spiritual elements into their daily routines.

I began the journey of a thousand miles and was sad I had no shoes. Then I was passed by a man who had no feet and he was smiling.