Years ago, from a hilltop surrounded by woodlands, the sound of bagpipes rose above the treetops. “Scotland the Brave” played as the wedding party took their places beneath stately oaks and cedars.

The groom, Julian Robb, and his groomsmen wore traditional Bonnie Prince Charlie outfits of Royal Stewart tartan kilts, sporrans, and ghillies. When the bride, Jessica Simstein, appeared with her Uncle Thomas at her side, the piper began playing “Highland Cathedral” and the pair paraded down the grassy aisle. It was a scene straight out of Brigadoon.

When Jessica’s younger sister Julie stood before the same altar a few years before with her beloved, the moonflowers dramatically bloomed during the wedding ceremony. Most recently Rebecca, the youngest of the three Simstein daughters, wed beneath the same moonflowers, completing a time-honored family tradition. 

Dr. Lee Simstein and his wife, Beverly, could not have imagined more precious moments than these when they decided to move their family to the outskirts of Winston-Salem 20 years ago.

Purchasing 30 acres in the countryside just outside the city, the Simsteins worked with their builder to preserve the natural beauty of the site by building their home among the trees and opening up a panoramic view of the undulating landscape. From the two-story white-pillared façade of a home that embodies classic Southern architecture, the front lawn rolls gently down to a wooded hollow that hides two ponds before rising again to an adjacent hill. Barely silhouetted against the sky, a misty Sauratown Mountain, pale blue in the distance, is visible above the tree line. The home’s presence on the land lends it an air of agelessness — of being forever held in a time of genteel manners and leisurely Sunday afternoons.

On this particular Sunday, I am welcomed to the Simstein home by a long winding driveway lined with crape myrtles and sugar maples that burst with seasonal color. “I was always fascinated by the maple trees along Reynolda Road and how their canopies touched before they were cut back,” Beverly says.

It was that tunnel of dappled light and rich color that inspired her to plant those trees almost 20 years ago. “They’re called October Glory, and they turn a brilliant orange-red color at the end of October.” After 20 years, they’re finally beginning to touch.

The Simsteins’ place, not surprisingly, has hosted more than just family and friends’ weddings. The holidays have also been occasions to welcome guests, some of whom otherwise might not have had a place to go.

“Doctors and nurses who couldn’t make it home because they were on call were always invited to our Thanksgiving meals,” Jessica Robb recalls. “My dad was also big in karate, so we sometimes had his martial arts friends over too. Last-minute guests were common.”

Later this month, as four generations of Simsteins gather again at the old homestead and take their seats around the Thanksgiving table, conversations will no doubt include memories of the late Lee Simstein, who died of cancer several years ago. His memory lives on in the Lee Simstein Memorial Fund, established to help patients with limited financial resources who are undergoing cancer treatment. Simstein was a Wake Forest University football player during the 1960s. The former surgeon’s foundation hosts a Super Bowl Benefit each year — an event Robb says she hopes the Simstein home will one day host.

While it may be some time before this homestead hosts a benefit, or for that matter, witnesses another Scottish wedding, don’t expect this hilltop retreat to fade into the mist anytime soon. Instead, the generous spirit of a family that’s thankful for the simple pleasures of hearth and home will continue to emanate from the Piedmont’s hinterland.