The Real Reason I Came Home

While most people think I’ve just been home hosting a comedy show, that’s only part of the story.

Yes, I’ve been building something beautiful here in Sebring—a monthly comedy show that brings people together and gives both new and seasoned comics a place to shine. Hosting this show has helped me build community, sharpen my craft, and—maybe most importantly—given me an outlet when I needed it the most.

But comedy isn’t the whole story.

The real reason I came home was to honor the life and legacy of my grandmother, Georgia Mae Toney—known to some as the Wing Ding Queen.

My grandmother wasn’t famous by today’s standards. But if you lived in Sebring in the '70s or early '80s, you knew her. She was a mother, a business owner, and a woman who could season a cast-iron skillet with just a look. She served up wing dings with a side of joy, love, and respect—until her life was taken in 1982. She was murdered on Mother’s Day by her estranged son-in-law.

For decades, that pain lived in the shadows of our family story. In 2018, I cracked open the door by writing about her in my first book, Everybody Knows: The Power of Being in Position. But it wasn’t until recently that I found the courage—and the tools—to bring her full story to light.

Since then, I’ve been working on a documentary, Crowning the Wing Ding Queen: Uncovering My Grandmother’s Life and Legacy. It’s the most personal project I’ve ever done. I’ve spent the past few years gathering stories, old photos, and newspaper clippings—tracing my grandmother’s journey from beloved cook to murdered matriarch.

In 2023, I completed the Showrunner Mentorship Academy and Gotham Writers TV Writing II—two experiences that pushed me to trust my voice and own my story as both a creator and a descendant.

This isn’t just a documentary. It’s a reckoning. A healing. A tribute.

So yes, I’ve been hosting a comedy show. And laughing has helped me survive. But I’ve also been grieving. Creating. Listening. Digging. Rebuilding. And through it all, I’ve felt her presence—guiding me, daring me to tell the truth, and reminding me why I came home in the first place.

The Wing Ding Queen deserves her crown. And I intend to place it.