The Richmond Family: The Currency of Care

Written by Trista Havner

Photographed by Carrie Cantrell

My daughter was born in October, and I was back to teaching full-time in early December. I had used every single one of the paid leave days I had been saving when my son was born just 19 months prior, and we could not afford any extra maternity leave. This meant pumping for my baby at school, in a closet. One particular Tuesday, I found myself staring at the wall in my closet, tears streaming down my face. Postpartum is hard, always, but I was really struggling to hold it together. I made every attempt to erase the evidence of emotion from my face while I returned to my classroom, but a colleague about ten years my senior, with two children of her own, noticed me. She said nothing, but the next day, chocolate chip cookies and a note that read “keep going” appeared in my school mailbox. She discreetly approached me after a faculty meeting to ask if I was eating. When I told her I could not remember the last time I ate a vegetable, she brought me a home-cooked meal. She left poems about motherhood on my desk along with brownies she baked with her children. Her quiet knowing, her willingness to remember me and to feed my stomach and my soul, healed me.

And when I envision the times when I have felt most cared for, or I have been the one doing the caring, the memories always involve food. A kitchen table. An invitation to slow down and savor time and taste.

No one understands this better than the Richmonds, owners of Skillet Junction (and a host of food-centered businesses, past and present). If you have ever eaten at Skillet Junction or Saucy Jake's or Peppermint Addie’s, you know that Regina and Jacob Richmond understand the power of a good meal. They, together with their children, have established a reputation of culinary excellence in Jackson. Yes, the food they prepare, from wings to brisket to ice cream to grits, is delicious. Every time. But what sets them apart is the intentionality carefully crafted into every meal.

Regina and Jacob Richmond are grafted-in Jacksonians. They were both born and raised in big cities — Regina in Chicago and Jacob in Atlanta — and made their way to the South in pursuit of degrees, ultimately landing at Lane College. Jacob had a scholarship to play football and had a promising future in the NFL before an injury shifted their plans. They got married and decided that Jackson was the place they wanted to raise a family — not too big and not too small. They soon welcomed three children, and both had full-time jobs. As their children grew, Regina could feel their orbits diverging. The children were in school, her husband worked a corporate job, and she was tasked with bringing everyone back together whenever she could. Regina longed for familial connectedness in a time when they were being pulled in different directions.

So, in 2016, Regina and Jacob made the decision to homeschool their children and start a food truck, Saucy Jake’s. Jacob had a background in corporate management for Chili’s, and Regina had always been cooking, even as a girl. Food was a balm for their family, and Regina reflected that food had “always been their language for each other, a way to slow down and see each other.” The Richmonds leaned into the opportunity to operate the truck as a unit, and their children were able to navigate school and learn how to operate a business hands-on. Together, they served Jackson from their truck from 2016–2019, until they decided to open a brick-and-mortar location on Campbell Street in 2019. But then the pandemic hit. They had to learn to be resourceful to keep the business afloat, which they did, without closing for even one day. Through shrewd business acumen, they were able to survive the leanest parts of Covid.

But even as they operated out of their little building on Campbell Street, Regina dreamed of operating out of downtown Jackson. “Downtowns are the only places that capture what a city was and what it can be,” Regina observed, and she knew that the presence or lack of good food could make or break a downtown. She and her family would decompress by walking around downtown, imagining a future there and brainstorming about what Jackson needed. Their first venture was an ice cream shop, operated by their teenage daughter, Addison (an amazing story in itself). By 2022, Covid was still ongoing, but people were beginning to venture out again, and the Rich-monds found they missed having people in their restaurant. They missed the chatter of patrons and the sounds of dining in — the clinking utensils, the noise of a busy kitchen. They had the togetherness of their family, but they missed the proximity to the community. They began to flesh out their next step: a brunch restaurant that would incorporate the best parts of breakfast, lunch, and a good cocktail. Thus, Skillet Junction was born, and in May of 2022, they opened the doors of the Neely House to the public.

I sat down with Regina over coffee for an interview that felt less like a Q&A and more like two kindred spirits discussing business ownership with the knowingness that only comes with experience — of mothering children and working alongside spouses and the weight and joy of it all. Regina made me feel like I was the one there to tell my story. She listened and asked questions, interested in me as much as I was in her. She offered her complete attention. Time felt fluid. And I realized that is what I feel every time I sit down for a meal at Skillet Junction. Welcomed, served food that invokes the way home feels,and gifted with watching Regina’s family serve Jackson with the kind of joy on display that cannot be faked.

So much has happened in the four years since the Richmonds opened Skillet Junction — they have employed family, grown in scale, and purchased the Neely House. I know those accomplishments make Regina proud. But the fire in her eyes when I asked why she does this hard work, why her family keeps showing up to feed our community, was deeply revelatory. Regina and her family are building, with their own hands and hearts, toward the freedom of time. Success for the Richmonds is life with the luxury of leaning in and out, taking days off, being together, and working hard and recharging just as hard. The currency the Richmonds are chasing is the currency of care. That is why their space and their dishes and their energy are different. They understand that to do good work, the kind of work that feeds stomachs and souls, they must work from a place of care — for themselves, for one another, and for the community. Food made with the kind of intentionality that the Richmonds pour into every dish doesn’t just nourish; it heals. And for the Richmonds, that is a legacy worth building.