“We grew up founding our dreams on the infinite promise of American advertising. I still believe that one can learn to play the piano by mail and that mud will give you a perfect complexion” ~ Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald
A Broadway Street marker in Asheville, North Carolina hints at a famous yet tragic figure tied to the city – Zelda Fitzgerald. Alongside husband F. Scott Fitzgerald, the Jazz Age icon found refuge in western North Carolina during her turbulent life.
Zelda Sayre was a high-spirited and rebellious Alabama native who, after finishing high school in 1918, met F. Scott Fitzgerald at a dance. Though he tried to court her, she was hesitant to commit due to concerns about his financial prospects. However, when 
Scott published his first novel “A Movable Feast” in 1920, Zelda agreed to marry him.
The couple quickly achieved celebrity status during 1920s cultural rebellion. Zelda in particular embodied the image of the liberated “flapper.” As Scott’s muse, Zelda radiated the glamor and excess of the Roaring Twenties. But she was far more than just a literary spouse. Zelda was a gifted writer, dancer and artist in her own right, though her talents often went overlooked. She wrote an autobiographical novel about her marriage which angered Scott as he intended to use the material for a future book of his own. Though “Save Me the Waltz” did not sell well, Zelda persevered in her writing and painting, struggling in her intense aspirations for recognition. This overshadowing of her talent probably greatly contributed to her mental breakdowns.
In 1935, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald escaped to the mountain sanctuary of Asheville’s Grove Park Inn seeking refuge from their tumultuous lives. The grand hotel nestled in the misty Blue Ridge became a haven for Zelda’s fragile psyche.
But shadows still loomed over the couple. As Scott grappled with alcoholism, Zelda’s mental health spiraled, leading her to Asheville’s Highland Hospital in 1936. At this exclusive psychiatric facility, Zelda explored avant-garde treatments and nurtured her passion for painting.
Even after Scott’s death in 1940, Zelda returned to Highland Hospital for lengthy stays over the next eight years. She embraced life between treatments – swimming, playing tennis, shopping downtown.
Though her own fiery spirit was ultimately extinguished in a 1948 fire at Highland, Asheville had been a beacon for Zelda. In the therapeutic mountain air and sanctuary of the hospitals, she found fleeting moments of creativity and calm amidst inner turmoil. The mountains gave Zelda a refuge where her flame could gently flicker.
