gulfshore life men and women of the year ashley gerry
Photography by Omar Cruz

Men & Women of the Year 2025

These innovators, changemakers and tastemakers are shaping philanthropy, design and culture across Naples, Marco Island and beyond.

Southwest Florida thrives on the vision and drive of its people, and this year, a select group is shaping the Gulf Coast like no other. From Naples to Marco Island and beyond, these men and women are transforming philanthropy, conservation, design, and culture, leaving a lasting imprint on the region’s communities and lifestyle. Meet the leaders, tastemakers and changemakers defining life along our shores in 2025.

Harold Balink

In the hands of Fort Myers’ most celebrated chef, Harold Balink, food transforms from sustenance into connection—a magnetism that tethers every diner in his 150-seat restaurant. 

For nearly 30 years, Harold has shaped the local culinary scene while collaborating with dozens of charities, often from their founding. His farm-to-table restaurant, Harold’s, represents the summation of a life lived in service. 

At 26, the 6-foot-4 former football tight end became one of the youngest executive chefs in the area at Captiva Island’s South Seas Resort. There, he met his late wife, Julie, before joining Fort Myers’ decade-defining Cru in 2009 as co-owner and chef. As he advanced in his career, Harold began to view his role more as a servant than a chef. “Growing up, my parents never donated money or offered church tithings—they didn’t have it to give,” Harold says. “But they did have time, and of that, they gave plenty.” 

Harold and Julie embraced that philosophy, partnering with grassroots organizations like SWFL Children’s Charities and its Southwest Florida Wine & Food Fest, where he still curates artful dinners alongside top vintners. They auctioned off countless private dinners for as many as 40 people—often the highest-grossing items for organizations like the Heights Foundation, Golisano Children’s Hospital and Pace Center for Girls.

In 2015, his world fractured when Julie was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. He sold his stake in Cru and opened Harold’s as a 34-seat restaurant, open only Wednesday through Saturday for dinner service, leaving  days free for doctors’ appointments and chemotherapy sessions. He documented their journey on social media with Julie’s permission—laying bare how pain, when voiced, can become a thread of solidarity rather than a source of isolation.

When she passed in 2017, Harold considered applying to the Peace Corps and moving abroad. Instead, he found refuge in his kitchen. 

Guests flocked to the small dining room, driving a perpetual two-month waiting list. In 2021, an expansion allowed more diners to experience what Harold had built: a restaurant that gives back simply by existing, where a working-class Colorado native serves his grandmother’s Bolognese alongside dishes that reflect decades in the industry.

This fall, Harold will open his next venture, Vybe Whiskey and Wine, in the Bell Tower Shops. His impact on generations of chefs is also evident up and down our coast.  Mentees—like Zach Geerson at Silver King, and Josh Zeman at Sea Salt—are shifting and propelling the dining landscape, inspired by the man who laid himself bare­—unafraid to get it wrong. 

Every November, Harold writes down a daily gratitude and shares it online. The posts often read like poetry, tracing the push and pull of life and loss. The replies echo the same refrain: “Thank you for writing what we all feel.” —Chanda Jamieson

Jaclynn Faffer

Dr. Jaclynn Faffer, president and CEO of Baker Senior Center Naples, flashes a wry grin and explains the crux of her dilemma. “We’re not cute,” she quips.  

Photos of sweet, smiling kids dreaming about their futures—those win community champions and loosen purse strings. But seniors’ dreams? I want to be able to afford my medication and my groceries. I want to not feel alone after my spouse passes away. Such images do turn heads—often in the opposite direction.  

Jaclynn stared them straight on. Fifteen years ago, she moved to Naples to head a small family services agency. As she settled in, someone inquired about the county’s senior center. To her surprise, no such place existed, even though nearly 27% of the population at the time was 65 or older.  “Let’s start one,” she told her board. They agreed. In 2014, the Naples Senior Center debuted in a rented office building. On opening day, 80 people showed up. Over time, they kept coming, from mobile home communities and exclusive enclaves and everywhere in between.  

The accomplishment, however significant, was only the beginning. Jaclynn knew she would need to expand the offerings. To do so, she had to win over a community that prefers to equate aging with golf and pickleball, not isolation and loneliness. “I talk about it incessantly,” she says of senior issues. “I talk anywhere to anyone who invites me.”  

In 2023, nine years after her first grand opening, Jaclynn cut another ribbon, this time to the 30,000-square-foot Baker Senior Center in North Naples. The building is paid in full, almost entirely from donations made to the $25 million capital campaign.

At the center, Jaclynn and her staff—with the help of 300-plus volunteers—deliver a full slate of services under one roof: dementia care, mental health counseling, case management, a food pantry and select homeless services. That may sound weighty; it is the aspects of aging no one wants to think about until they have to. 

But this center is equal parts joy.  Just ask the hundreds who participate in the roughly 40 social, wellness and educational programs. Or the singers who discovered their shared passion at the center and now frequent karaoke bars around town. Or the more than 60 ukulele players who strum in solidarity. This fall, the center introduced its newest offering, Baker Senior Center College, which will include a graduation ceremony this spring. “You’re never too old to learn,” Jaclynn says. “More importantly, you’re never too old to want to learn.” Now, there’s an image of aging that we might all embrace. —Jennifer Reed

Ashley Gerry

When Ashley Gerry champions a cause, Southwest Florida listens. A co-chair of the 2026 Naples Winter Wine Festival (NWWF), she represents philanthropic leadership for her generation—one that understands style and substance go hand in hand and that people give when they feel something real.

Her superpower lies in transforming fundraising into experiences guests can’t forget. In 2024, she envisioned a Barbie theme for the Golisano Children’s Museum of Naples’ Night at the Museum fundraiser and reimagined the event tent as the iconic Dreamhouse. This year, she converted the space into a Color Factory, with Warhol-inspired Pop art, and brought in artist Romero Britto as a party guest. In 2023, her psychedelic-era “Imagine All the People” NWWF dinner culminated with children from a local church singing “Imagine” for the group. “It becomes your job basically because you want it to be successful for these organizations,” Ashley says. “But I also have a lot of fun with it.” 

That approach has earned her one of Naples’ most coveted volunteer positions. NWWF raises tens of millions each year for the Naples Children Foundation. Co-chairing the event represents a pinnacle of philanthropic leadership, reserved for the most established trustees. Ashley and her husband, Adam—who have attended the festival for nearly 15 years—step in this season, embodying the next wave of patrons  resolved to pick up the charge. 

Ashley arrived in Southwest Florida 20 years ago from Missouri and dove into the community. She started by volunteering as a pediatric hugger at Golisano Children’s Hospital in Fort Myers. “You get to hold babies all day,” she recalls. “It’s the most incredible ‘job’ you could have.”

Her first event, a fundraiser for the children’s hospital, planned while pregnant with her daughter, launched her trajectory of charitable organizing, with a focus on children’s charities. Since then, she estimates she’s orchestrated about 15 events and helped raise a collective $15 million for organizations like JDRF (now Breakthrough T1D), Youth Haven and the Community School of Naples, where her children attend. After Hurricane Ian, she helped spearhead the Boots on the Ground benefit concert, raising more than $1.5 million for relief efforts. She recently joined Gulfshore Life Woman of the Year Elizabeth Star in leading the Women’s Foundation of Collier County Women Lifting Women Initiative, where they’re helping girls and senior women secure stability and independence. 

Ashley instills the same philanthropic spirit in her 11-year-old son and 13-year-old daughter. Currently, they’re gearing up for the holiday toy drive she has the family lead each year. “It’s important for them to start to see the impact they can make,” she says. —Justin Paprocki

Marissa Hartington

When we named Marissa Hartington Woman of the Year in 1999, we recognized her role in building Marissa Collections into an enduring fashion institution with her husband, Burt. 

Another quarter-century later, as the specialty store marks its 50th, we honor her again—a rare recognition reserved for those whose vision and impact only magnify over the decades. Today, there’s no doubt that Marissa’s eye and conviction established the framework for how Naples presents itself to the world.

Born in Poland, the style-maker  immigrated to America with an education in psychology, an intuitive eye for beauty and fierce determination. Having started with a small store in 1975, she introduced American sportswear when it was still finding its footing and championed European houses before they had regional name recognition. Her influence brought major designers, like Oscar de la Renta, Michael Kors and Carolina Herrera, to Naples long before the city was considered a luxury enclave. Meanwhile, she built a clientele that understood style as an expression of individuality rather than a shorthand for status. “When you style yourself, you are telling a story,” Marissa says. 

While other retailers focused on domestic standbys and uniform assortments, Marissa pioneered high-low styling, offering designer gowns alongside perfect T-shirts and jeans. “As long as I’m alive, we’ll have the store based on that concept of high and low, because that’s how we live,” she says. Naples evolved with the same sensibility, equal parts polished and accessible. 

The past four years brought significant expansion under the leadership of her son, Jay, who is now CEO. The store opened a Palm Beach location, added a boutique inside The Ritz-Carlton, Naples, and launched an outpost in Nantucket. This season, David Webb opens a store-within-a-store at Marissa Collections. But the foundation—the taste, rigor and loyalty that define the brand—is thoroughly Marissa. She remains entrenched in the day-to-day, going on buying trips, discovering emerging designers and straightening the racks. “If my name is still on the door, I owe it to my clients, my staff and my community to deliver,” she says.

Still, her most significant contributions often unfold behind the scenes. She connects newcomers to causes where they can make an impact and orchestrates introductions that elevate philanthropic events. In dressing rooms, she builds women’s confidence, with each piece intuitively selected to empower. Her generosity shows in small gestures: the homemade soup delivered to sick friends, the mentorship that pushes for excellence and inspires staff to stay for decades. 

Through fires, recessions and hurricanes, Marissa has remained constant, cultivating fashion as a vehicle for connection and cultural expression. And through that lens, the world sees Naples as it is: rooted, refined and inimitably stylish. —Stephanie Granada

Lisa Kahn-Allen

Standing inside a recently completed spec home in Port Royal, Naples interior designer Lisa Kahn-Allen gestures to the wide bay windows that peer out over the water. “This is what it’s all about, bringing the best of what’s out there … in here,” she says. 

Over 20 years, Lisa has built a practice centered on what she calls “sanctuary design”—spaces engineered for physical and mental restoration. She aims to bring the healing energy of nature inside, where private nooks, supple fabrics and echo-muting designs further soften the emotional depletion of the day. 

Her client roster spans private residences and public institutions: developers seek her biophilic approach for spec homes, while local arts organizations like Gulfshore Playhouse and The Naples Players commission her to create environments that enhance their programming. But, the impact of her ethos is most evident in her work with nonprofits, like The Shelter for Abused Women & Children, Youth Haven and David Lawrence Centers. She’s currently working with STARability Foundation on their new campus at I-75 and Immokalee Road, a facility that will include classrooms, event space and eventual housing for adults with disabilities.

Lisa’s sanctuary practice began as a necessity before it became a philosophy. Her daughter, Chloe, struggles with autism and oppositional defiant disorder, making their home a daily battleground against sensory overload. About a decade ago, she decided to tap into her day-to-day craft to find solutions at home. Lisa consulted occupational therapists, studied neurodivergent design principles and systematically reconfigured their home environment.

The transformation proved dramatic. Chloe, who had retreated from social interaction, began engaging with her surroundings—and her family—for the first time. “I realized the power of our environments,” Lisa says.

During the COVID-19 shutdowns, as people around the world disappeared into their fortresses, Lisa started thinking about how her discoveries could help others and developed a framework for wellness-centric design. 

The designer sees her efforts not simply as a business, but as the catalyzing agent for a global movement. A recent reading of Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks, which calculates the average human lifespan, has sharpened her focus. “If I only have roughly 1,000 weeks left, what, then, can I afford to care about?” Lisa asked herself. The answer: scaling sanctuary design beyond individual projects.

This year, Lisa and her husband, Philip, are launching the Finding Sanctuary Institute, a nonprofit offering certification programs and online resources for creating spaces that heal. “I believe in the abundance of the universe,” Lisa says. Each designer who’s trained will create sanctuaries she’ll never see, support families she’ll never know—a collective impact that cycles back as fuel for an ever-expanding movement. —Emma Witmer

John Lai

Before John Lai was president and CEO of the Sanibel and Captiva Islands Chamber of Commerce, he was a hospitality executive, and thank goodness for that. Because no matter if the kitchen is on fire, guests deserve a top-notch experience, served by an unflappable host.  

Sanibel and Captiva have been through much, much worse than kitchen fires lately. Since John took the chamber’s helm in 2017 following a career in hotel management, he’s faced a tourism-crushing red tide outbreak, the COVID-19 pandemic, and Hurricanes Ian, Helene and Milton.  

In each, he steered the business community—comprised almost entirely of small, independent establishments—through economic recovery and lured back tourists, guided by the chamber’s consistent, candid messaging. “Not perfect, still paradise,” he relayed to the chamber’s 2 million website visitors and 100,000 social media followers after the spate of storms. In Ian’s wake, John first appealed to the day trippers, then enticed patrons to rediscover island restaurants, and now he is preparing a full-blown marketing push—the first since 2022. Not a single business that reopened after Ian has closed, he says, with evident pride. “It’s the power of community.”  

John learned to navigate large-scale crises during the 2018 red tide outbreak, when 2,000 tons of marine life washed up on the region’s shores, resulting in economic losses totaling some $184 million. “You can sweep it under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen, or you can fight to make it right and make it better.” 

Following the disaster, the chamber dove headfirst into environmental advocacy. “It was intimidating,” John remembers of those first sessions with government officials and conservationists. But the chamber presented previously unheard perspectives and data on the far-reaching harms of contaminated water. He believes the business lobby played a significant role in helping to propel state water quality initiatives to completion. 

A year ago, John launched a first-of-its-kind leadership development program, Preserving Paradise, focused on advancing the islands’ economic and ecological well-being. He hopes other communities look to it as a model for smart growth and sustainable development. 

This isn’t a typical mission for a chamber of commerce, but Sanibel—a city defined by environmental protectionism—isn’t a typical place. John, a native of Trinidad, fell in love with it as a teenager when his restaurateur parents came to manage an island eatery. Sanibel reminded him of home.  The island welcomed him, and now he works to ensure others feel the same. “When you are on the verge of losing something that’s meant so much to your entire life, you fight like crazy to protect it,” he says. —J.R.   

Daniel Lubner

Every day, more than a dozen Clive Daniel Home (CDH) trucks leave the high-end design and furniture company’s 175,000-square-foot Fort Myers headquarters. The scale would have seemed impossible to Daniel Lubner when he and his father, Clive, opened the flagship Naples showroom nearly 15 years ago. “We couldn’t afford storage racks for the first year,” says Daniel, now CEO of the company. 

Today, $40 million in furniture fills their warehouse, a space where Daniel has built something rare: complete vertical integration. Skilled craftsmen inspect every piece and fix problems on-site before delivery, while maintenance teams ensure every stone dining set is spotless. 

His one-stop-shop approach allows Daniel to pair veteran and novice designers on projects while looping in warehouse teams to streamline communication and quality control. His entrepreneurial acumen, affability and a bit of good timing proved crucial to getting on the ground floor of Southwest Florida’s development boom. In the early 2000s, back at Robb & Stucky, Daniel was among the first to secure contracts with major Fort Myers developments like St. Tropez and Beau Rivage, after a two-decade hiatus on high-rise builds in the city. Since then, he and the CDH team have worked on thousands of projects throughout the region. Thanks to their integrated systems, CDH can mobilize quickly for the area’s many planned communities (they recently furnished a nearly 22,000-square-foot clubhouse in three days, a feat that often takes weeks). 

As a design-centric firm, they value individuality and craft. Elegant wine bottle displays and accent furniture, drawn up in-house and manufactured in the U.S. and Europe, fill resort-style enclaves from Naples to Sarasota.  And, the Fort Myers native keeps finding ways to meet evolving client needs. This year, Daniel initiated a partnership with Daisy, a smart home automation service, allowing CDH to install lighting controls, audio and security systems alongside furniture. Around the same time, they launched a home watch division to cover storm preparation and routine inspection services for clients in the off-season.

He’s also training the next generation of regional designers, many of whom go on to launch their own firms. Others continue to rise through the ranks to senior roles. “I might have to learn to play golf,” he jokes.

When clients donate old furniture, CDH distributes pieces to organizations like Habitat for Humanity (the team also volunteers, helping with builds for the affordable housing nonprofit). After Hurricane Ian, CDH donated six figures worth of merchandise to storm victims. Daniel and his wife, Cathy, support the Harry Chapin Food Bank and events like the Southwest Florida Wine & Food Fest. “We just want to know what we can do in [certain] situations,” he says. “It’s a shared value and a shared culture that we have.” —Addison Pezoldt 

Peter Tierney

In the late ’90s, a few years after he opened the now-iconic The Turtle Club on Naples’ Vanderbilt Beach, Peter Tierney met with the team behind a prolific restaurant empire for advice on franchising. He quickly realized a distant, corporate approach wasn’t for him. “I came back to Naples and focused on what we were doing, the community. I think a lot of my success has been because I stayed,” he says.

A culinary graduate of Johnson & Wales University, Peter moved to Marco Island in the 1980s. He landed a job at the cavernous institution O’Shea’s Restaurant before taking an executive chef gig at the Edgewater Beach Hotel. There, he stepped out of the kitchen and worked his way up the front-of-house ranks, ultimately becoming the resort’s general manager. After 10 years, the hotel changed ownership and Peter approached Mike Moore, whose family owned The Vanderbilt Beach Resort, with a proposal to turn the run-down shuffleboard court into a breakfast room. “I lied a bit [about the plan],” Peter says with a laugh. “That was the birth of The Turtle Club.”  The vision to turn underperforming spaces into some of the region’s standout restaurants has served Peter well over the past three decades. In Naples’ volatile market, where rising costs, seasonal lulls and storms frequently shutter eateries, he’s achieved real staying power.  

Following the success of The Turtle Club, he and partner Dr. Bud Negley bought and expanded The Bay House in North Naples. (They sold the restaurant in 2021.) The Claw Bar opened in 2018 at the Bellasera Hotel downtown, which they acquired shortly after. Peter then transformed the second-floor ballroom into perpetually packed The London Club, a sultry jazz haunt. A second venue, The London Club Lounge, opens this fall with its own live entertainment and an elevated cocktail program. Rounding out the portfolio is The Syren Oyster Bar, a nautical-chic reimagining of the Wharf Tavern Restaurant and Lobster House on Tenth Street South, which debuted as one of the city’s best new restaurants in 2024.  

Each project has its own personality, united by common threads: elevated design, gracious hospitality and a menu that breaks with the ubiquitous Caesar salad, grouper and scallops. “I think of restaurants like an escape. You want to feel special,” Peter says. “I want to look you in the eye and serve you. As everything goes AI, our industry will be one of the last bastions of human interaction.”  

His commitment to fostering a sense of community and personal connection was reciprocated in 2022 when Hurricane Ian washed away The Turtle Club. Peter and his team received thousands of messages of support as they shifted sand and rebuilt. When the restaurant announced its reopening nearly two years later, 65,000 people entered a contest to secure the first reservation. Even now, prime dinner slots in season book out six-plus months in advance. “It was never in anyone’s mind not to rebuild,” Peter says. “Everybody knows that place. We made something special.” —Samantha Garbarini

John and Carol Walter

Earlier this year, John and Carol Walter made the largest gift in the Conservancy of Southwest Florida’s history: $25 million to create the John & Carol Walter Nature Experience, scheduled to open in 2028. The contribution will transform the center into an expansive and immersive facility with new programs, interactive exhibits and educational activities that further the organization’s mission to educate visitors about preservation.

For John, the Gulf’s pristine waters and coastal ecosystems represent something irreplaceable. “Once it’s gone, it’s gone—there’s no getting it back,” John says. “That’s why we need to protect it.”

The Walters started wintering in Southwest Florida more than a decade ago, first in Boca Grande and then in Naples. An acquaintance, recognizing their love for nature, encouraged them to volunteer for the Conservancy, an environmental advocacy nonprofit with a 21-acre campus and nature center that attracts around 30,000 visitors annually. John became a mainstay on the board of directors while Carol helped organize the annual Magic Under the Mangroves fundraiser. “Once you get involved, you just want to keep giving,” Carol says.

The couple has made community engagement a priority wherever they’ve lived. John spent most of his career with Chicago printing company R.R. Donnelley & Sons, eventually rising to chairman and CEO. He served on numerous Chicago boards, including as a trustee with Steppenwolf Theatre and Northwestern University. Carol volunteered with charities championing the arts, supporting underprivileged youth and promoting animal welfare.

Since arriving in Naples, the Walters have embedded themselves locally. They’ve been instrumental in bringing Gulfshore Playhouse’s new theater to fruition and both serve on the board of trustees for the Naples Children Foundation. Carol also serves on the Sustaining Leadership Council at The Naples Botanical Garden. “We’ve been fortunate in life, so we feel we have a responsibility to give back to our communities,” she says. —J.P.

Mark Wilson 

Mark Wilson launched London Bay in 1990, guided by a theory: Luxury homes in Southwest Florida should be designed as complete experiences, not expensive boxes with beautiful afterthoughts. “Design matters,” he says. “You can build a box, and you can probably sell a box, but it’s far more interesting to design something that holds up well over decades.” 

The British builder/developer arrived on the scene with an MBA and a European design sensibility. With his founding team—which included his wife, Gemma, and one other partner—Mark set a record in 1993 for the most expensive spec home ever sold in Fort Myers. By the mid-2000s, his brother, Stephen, had joined him at the helm, and they’d acquired Romanza Interior Design and added an architectural division. The integrated model that seemed radical in 1990 became a regional standard. 

Mark’s business instincts matched his design vision. While competitors chased market peaks, he built London Bay’s portfolio through strategic acquisitions during downturns, including Mediterra and The Founders Club in 2008, Moorings Park Grande Lake in 2015 and most of the 500-acre Saltleaf on Estero Bay property during COVID. “If you have the fundamental belief that Southwest Florida is going to be good in five, 10, 15 years’ time, then when there’s panic, as long as you have capital, that’s the time to buy,” Mark says. 

The Estero Bay acquisition became London Bay’s most ambitious project to date, anchored by two Ritz-Carlton Residences towers. By July, residence sales had topped $700 million, proving that luxury living works beyond Naples’ established corridors. The full vision—10 towers rising as the largest waterfront high-rise community in the region—will unfold over the next 15 years. 

Rather than spreading buildings across the site, the team is concentrating density in high-rises, preserving the vast natural areas that define the Gulf Coast. “We think about the community and the responsibility of creating something that lasts,” he says.   

The philosophy extends to how Mark built the company. London Bay offers gym memberships and company-matched health savings plans, along with robust benefits; hosts charity walks where employees can bring their families; and provides ongoing leadership training. “I get great satisfaction out of building a team and helping the team grow and be dynamic,” he says. The approach creates the low turnover essential for long-range thinking. 

Thirty-five years in, Mark’s cohesive vision holds, with luxury development and community stewardship coexisting at scale. As a legacy project, Saltleaf exemplifies the model: Mangroves line the waterfront, a restaurant from renowned chef Michael Mina rises, and boat slips remain open to the public—all within view of 1,532 refined residences. — S.G.  

Photography by Omar Cruz

Photographed in a Port Royal residence with landscape design by Christian Busk; architecture by Steven J. Brisson