It’s a feast for the senses.
The warm breeze is sweet with the scent of wild sagebrush. Across the Pacific Coast Highway, anglers line the pier as sunlight glints off an endless expanse of emerald water. And on two dozen bright blue pickleball courts, the crisp, constant thwack of ball on racket creates a staccato symphony.
On court 17, Laura Brightwell wins the point, pumps her fist and cheers.
The sound cuts sharply through the air, puncturing the idyllic scene like a circle hook through a prize catch.
“Laura has this relentlessly upbeat attitude, but it just barely covers how fiercely competitive she is… the push to be something great and different and more and better,” says her close friend and former colleague Lauren Sayeski.
That irrepressible edge carried Brightwell through a rewarding career in the Coca-Cola system, sparked a passion for philanthropy, and is abundantly evident even here in Newport Beach, California, a laid-back land of stunning sunsets and line-caught seafood.
“When people meet Laura, the first thing they are impressed by is the optimism, the enthusiasm,” says Sayeski. “And it comes with this wonderful smile. But it doesn’t mean there hasn’t been real grit and fortitude and challenge along the way.”
Brightwell’s story begins on the opposite coast, in moss-draped Savannah, where she grew up in a tight-knit family that experienced profound loss.
“My childhood was one of real joy,” she says. “But my father died when I was young. My mother was left with a 9-year-old, a 12-year-old and a 14-year-old, and the community rallied around us. We were raised by a family of people who cared for us and loved us.”
One family member played an especially important role in Brightwell’s life: her paternal grandmother, Evelyn, or “Edgie,” as she was known as a young girl in Madison, Georgia.
“She was born in 1907, and she lived through the industrial age as a single woman with two sons,” Brightwell says. “She became one of the first female vice presidents of a bank in the state of Georgia. She taught me to treat people with kindness and respect, to be open to ideas and learn.”
Attending St. Andrew’s School, Brightwell enjoyed oyster roasts and Savannah waterways. (“We would water ski behind the shrimp boats to capture waves,” she recalls, “often falling, never thinking about what might be following that shrimp boat.”)
When it came time to consider colleges, there was only one serious contender.
“Both my parents attended UGA,” she says. “My father’s father went there, my mother’s mother went there. I never looked at another school.”
Choosing Terry was less predetermined. “I thought business could be interesting,” she says, “but I had no idea what business actually meant.”
Because she had spent a summer in France and was excited by the idea of working abroad, Brightwell majored in international business. “It gave me a sturdy foundation,” she says. “What I learned about business is that everything is business.”
After immersing herself in politics as an assistant to Georgia Congressman Lindsay Thomas after graduation, Brightwell found one of the world’s biggest brands calling.
“I started with Coca-Cola Enterprises (CCE),” she says, then the largest Coca-Cola bottler in the U.S. “I was a public affairs coordinator, a young lobbyist. (From there), my career started growing.”
At Coke, Brightwell put her degree to good use.
“Early in my career, I found myself as one of the few women in the room. I met so many political and community leaders, and it could be intimidating. But knowing I had a solid business education, I was able to establish confidence — walk in, shake a hand and make a connection.”
Ambitious and determined, over two decades Brightwell rose from senior manager to director to VP of public affairs and communications.
“Laura was known for her ability to set big visions, build followership and drive towards a big outcome,” says Sayeski, hired at Coca-Cola Enterprises by Brightwell in 2004 and now VP of public affairs and policy for The Coca-Cola Company.
Finally, in 2010 she was offered an opportunity she long dreamed of. “Our chairman and CEO asked if I would lead public affairs and communications for CCE in London,” she says.
There was one hurdle: Brightwell was a single mom to a preteen son who wasn’t thrilled with the idea of leaving everything — and everyone — behind.
“We had a big community around us (in Georgia),” she says. “It was a little bit terrifying, changing schools and countries and no longer having that support group.”
Ultimately, Brightwell couldn’t turn down the offer. “It was a huge opportunity, but it was a big risk. And it ended up being the right decision.”
“The first year was difficult,” says Brightwell’s son, Crawford Asman. But he soon made friends and found new passions as his mom thrived professionally. “I traveled throughout Europe, leading a team of successful, multinational people who did interesting things,” she recalls.
After the initial shock, the pair grew closer than ever. “It was a big change,” Asman says, “but I’m grateful for having that opportunity. It really brought us together.”
The move paid off in another way, too. At an NFL game in London, Brightwell met a fellow expat named David Simmons, and the two quickly hit it off.
But David planned to return to California, Crawford wanted to attend college in the U.S., and “I didn’t want to be left in Europe alone,” Brightwell laughs. In 2016 she retired from Coca-Cola “after a 26-year career — one I’m very proud of.”
Drive a few blocks south on Main Street from downtown Madison, and you’ll notice the Gingerbread House.
Said to be one of the state’s most photographed homes, it’s an architectural gem, with gables protruding at whimsical angles and intricate latticework lending the house its festive nickname.
Sometimes, it’s here — not Savannah, Atlanta or even postcard-perfect Newport — where Brightwell feels most at home.
Built by John Hunter in the 1880s, the Gingerbread House has been in Brightwell’s family since Evelyn married Hunter’s son, Nathan, in 1971 (she lived there until her death at age 103). As with any old house, the upkeep is daunting. But Brightwell and her sister, Layne, are committed to restoring its former glory.
Up the road in Athens, Brightwell is committed to her alma mater. A member of the Terry Dean’s Advisory Council, she previously served on the Terry Alumni Board, where she found a passion for mentorship.
“I was an individual contributor,” recalls mentee Brandon Gardner (BBA ’03, MBA ’10), a sales leader at PNC. “She encouraged me to get into leadership. She made me start thinking outside of the box.”
In 2016, Brightwell and five other donors formed the Terry Women’s Initiative — now the Terry Edge Network — to support career development and self-confidence among undergraduate students.
The program supplements B-school curriculum with “practical advice and counsel,” Brightwell says. “How can I help prepare them for a quicker transition into management or an executive role? How can I (give them) the confidence to walk in a room?”
As the program marks its first decade, “it has become something bigger than all of us,” she says. “It’s helping future leaders grow.”
Brightwell’s family has grown, too.
“David has four children, and the two of us have created a life together,” she says. “Our two eldest each have two children. So, I now have four grandchildren.”
The grandkids call her Edgie, after Evelyn, Laura’s middle name.
In the historic house where her own grandmother helped shape her story, Brightwell reflects, “She helped me believe I was special, that I was smart (and) strong. … And as I think about her and so many others’ impact on me, I want to give back. I want to be a person who helps others succeed. I have so many life lessons I feel I can share for as long as anyone wants to listen.”
