Naomi’s Lighthouse

It started the way a lot of our best Sunday adventure s do—with Mom.

She had heard about a restaurant over in Reidsville and wondered aloud if maybe Gene and I wanted to ride over and give it a try. We didn’t have to think too hard about it. A few minutes later, we were in the car driving from Ohoopee to Reidsville.

Naomi’s Lighthouse is tucked neatly into the block across from the courthouse on Church Street. Parking was no trouble at all. We walked up a wide ramp and noticed right away how well-kept the building’s exterior is—like somebody over there takes pride in what they’ve got. We stepped inside and were greeted immediately by smiling faces. The staff must have read our expressions, because they could tell plain as day we were first-timers. They took our drink orders, suggested we go fix our plates, and pointed us toward the dining room.

We turned right and there it was—the buffet, laid out with what I can only describe as a love letter to Southern cooking. Butterbeans, collard greens, yams, creamy macaroni and cheese, rice and tomatoes, peas, fried fish, fried pork chops cooked to absolute perfection, chicken and dressing, neckbones. I piled one half of my plate high with vegetables and counterbalanced it with fish and pork chops—oh my! The three of us carefully toted our plates to the dining area and settled into a nice booth in a clean, bright area.

And then we started eating. Everything was simply delicious. We kept checking in with each other across the table the way you do when food is surprisingly good.

“Everything on my plate is fantastic,” Mom said, dabbing her lips with a napkin.

“I’m getting seconds,” Gene announced, and off he went.

When he came back, he was carrying a triangular piece of bread that I didn’t recognize. He took one bite and made a sound that said more than words could. “Take a bite of this,” he told me, holding the wedge up to my mouth. It was something like a biscuit, but crispy and buttery on both the top and bottom—the kind of thing I dream about. The gentleman in the booth next to us was eating a piece too, and he caught our eyes and smiled. “Great, isn’t it?” We nodded in agreement.

I made my way back to the food area—which has a big, ancient chimney standing right in the center of it—and fixed plates of pound cake and peach cobbler for Mom and me. That’s when I spotted a woman and recognized her as one of the owners, Jenean Armstrong. She and her husband Ernest, opened this little gem of a place. I told her how much we were enjoying ourselves and asked about the name.

She smiled warmly. She explained that she has a granddaughter and a great-granddaughter, both named Naomi. She told me that Ernest and his mother once had a restaurant just a hop and a skip away, and his mother had loved soap operas, and her favorite was The Guiding Light— that show with the lighthouse and the big beacon shining out into the world. “She really loved that soap opera,” Jenean laughed. “We combined the name and the lighthouse and got Naomi’s Lighthouse.”

And just like that, the name made all the sense in the world. Naomi’s Lighthouse is a familyowned, family-operated Southern buffet built on love and tradition and a deep commitment to the people around them. The pricing was more than fair for the quality and quantity of food, and the friendly staff checked on us several times continued from page

throughout our meal. Every other patron in that dining room looked just as happy as we were.

They just celebrated their one-year anniversary. I hope they see many, many more. Running a small business is hard work, and a place like this needs lots of customers to come through the door— mouths to feed. And it needs the support of local leaders who understand what a community gem looks like when they’ve got one in their midst.

We sure plan to go back. We hope you go there, too.