In dedication to our Momma, Ann Moon Folk (1945-2026)
Ann Folk (nee Moon) grew up near Atlanta, GA, in a crucible of social change and political upheaval. A constant student and scholar of life, Ann was passionate about Civil Rights and all things cultural, from ancient times to now, from every facet of humanity. She was an American History major and met Tom Folk, her husband-to-be, on a blind date when he attended Georgia Tech. They married, moved to Virginia for Tom’s engineering work-study at Dahlgren, and she directed plays at Mary Washington University, many of which featured Tom on stage. She stayed The Director all her life.
She was selective about friends but threw one hell of a party. To be loved by her was to be challenged by her. No one was more well-read. She should have published a vegetarian cookbook combining her elemental culinary heritage with the gourmet inspirations she encountered in her travels. She was forged by her Georgia roots but always strived to transcend them.
She and Tom had two daughters, and the young family changed addresses every two to four years, nesting in Virginia, Maryland, Florida, Germany, and eventually Colorado. She wasted no time during the four years abroad and marched the family through as many capitals and cathedrals of Europe as she could. Being unmoored from extended family while abroad, Ann created an intimate world for her husband and children by making every celebratory occasion a high holiday, full of traditions and rituals of her own making. Upon arriving back in the States, weekends were filled with season tickets at the Symphony, services at All Souls Unitarian Church, and explorations of the American Southwest. She supported her daughters’ careers in music and fine art.
She had a stint on the radio, took classes in film, followed politics obsessively, and got a Masters in Theology from Iliff in her 60s. She was sharp-witted and dry-humored. She was beautiful and could be dangerous like a Bond girl, secretive, volatile and full of pain. She could not abide complaining and set a fierce, stoic example of survival that few could match. She was always excited for the next development, advancement, or achievement. Late in life, with the world on fire, she still said she would be sad not to see what happened next. She will be missed by all who love her.