Ohoopee River Tree

... like a perfectly formed natural sculpture.

I fell in love with this tree some time ago. I pass it on my way home from Savannah as I drive along I-16 toward Macon. I spend a lot of time on 1-16, of course, since I am in Savannah so much; so it follows that I would get to know I-16 pretty well. This tree is one of the “landmarks” I look for, so I’ll know how much farther I have to go before I get home. When I see this tree, I know I am about two hours away.

I love this tree so much. I have always wanted some pictures of it. But I always forget exactly where it is, and by the time I see it it’s too late to pull off and take pictures, or traffic is a little heavier than usual and I am not comfortable stopping. Today as I drove home I watched carefully so I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to pull over and get pictures. It was such a pretty day and traffic was very light, so I knew it would be a good day to capture the tree.

It stands there like a perfectly formed natural sculpture. I don’t know what kind of tree it is. I just love the beauty in the texture and swirls of the bark, and the graceful formation of the limbs. The soft colors in the bark are wonderfully soothing and inspiring at the same time. The earth provided it some background foliage and some Spanish moss to frame it and add just the right touches to make it an unexpected and pleasant visual surprise to travelers.

I used to wonder what it looked like when it was living. Now I just appreciate the beauty and the uniqueness it contributes to the southeast Georgia highway. I know some day it will give up and fall over and eventually it’ll be gone. But for now, I smile when I see it. It feels like an old friend, and the longest branch seems to be the old tree waving at those of us who appreciate it for the extraordinary work of art it is.

Savannah Trolley Tour – Oglethorpe Tours

I’ve helped plan a number of trips to St Augustine for friends as well as people who tracked me down via the Internet. And now that I am working on getting my Savannah tour guide’s license and helping friends plan trips to this beautiful city, I am spending a lot of time falling in love with it getting to know it on an intimate level.

I usually recommend a trolley or horse-drawn carriage tour for first-time visitors. I have done carriage tours in both cities but not til yesterday did it occur to me I had never done a trolley tour in either city. And if I am going to recommend them, I ought to know what I am talking about, right?

Well, it’s just freakin’ time to fix that, isn’t it? I swung into the Visitor’s Center and took a look around. I chatted with representatives of several of the tour companies and chose the one that appealed to me most. This morning, my friend Carrie and I headed into Savannah for a day of “playing tourist.”

Margie & her faithful trolley!

I picked Oglethorpe Tours. I’m not sure why this company called to me more than the others, but I definitely chose wisely. I knew right away we were in for a delightful 90 minutes with Margie, The Coolest Tour Guide Ever. Her bubbly personality and outrageous sense of humor had us powering the trolley almost on laughter alone.

When Margie realized I was planning to get my own tour guide’s license, she immediately took me under her wing, so to speak, and took an extra few minutes explaining things and made an extra effort to get to know me and encourage me. I quickly realized Margie and I have a lot in common – primarily that it’s not enough for us to merely know dates and names. We want to know more – we want to dig deep and find the life and breath in the past and bring it to life as best we can.

Like me, Margie is almost obsessed with the desire to know things about Savannah’s history, and to present the city in such a way that it becomes a thing of value to those who come expecting to see its beauty and quaint Southern charm but quickly realize there’s so much more to it than beautiful architecture and blooming azaleas and live oaks dripping with Spanish moss. Margie’s rich voice and honest deep-South accent made her running commentary pure music to hear. Her big laugh is just contagious and her eyes are bright and direct, confirming the old saying that “the eyes are the windows to the heart.” This is a woman who loves what she does and where she does it. How many of us are that blessed?

Margie took the time to point out Savannah's unique and beautiful ironwork.

We began the tour at the Visitor’s Center, which in and of itself boasts a fascinating past. We moved slowly through the Historic District while Margie pointed out landmarks and points of interest and kept up an intriguing dialogue about Savannah’s builders, caretakers, and secrets. Not satisfied with simply pointing out interesting places and buildings, Margie took the time to point out details like Savannah’s beautiful ironwork and tabby streets and a wall on Factor’s Walk that, upon closer inspection, reveals itself to be the remains of an 18th century fort! I wouldn’t have noticed it had Margie not pointed it out! I adore this woman!

We saw the City Market, Juliette Low’s birthplace, Mercer House, and countless other houses and buildings that are an integral part of Savannah’s past. Margie gave a brief rundown of the Squares as we passed each one, pointing out monuments and interesting bits of history. Arriving at the Cathedral of St John the Baptist, she pulled off and allowed us a few minutes to disembark from the trolley and peek inside the magnificent building. Being a sucker for church-building architecture, I couldn’t resist dashing inside. The interior did take my breath away, that’s for sure.

We made a bit of a stop at the old Warren Candler Hospital. This is a building with a past so amazing that my heart beats a little faster just thinking of it. Such a vivid past this old charismatic structure has! Built in 1819, it has housed Savannah’s poor, her freed slaves, a medical school, a nursing school, and operated as a hospital until 1980! The stories this building could tell – and I want to hear them all!

The beautiful architecture of the Cathdral of St John the Baptist.

At the end of the actual tour, Margie let Carrie & me off at the City Market, where we found a café and a late lunch. When your tour has ended, you can leave the trolley anywhere, and get back on again at any one of a number of stops around the city. So that’s what we did – we took an hour or two to stroll about and then a different trolley, this one driven by Lucille, picked us up at the Juliette Low birthplace.

Here is the other reason I was so pleased with Oglethorpe Tours: customer service. A guest had accidentally left a camera on Lucille’s trolley. Not only did Lucille make every effort to get the camera back to its owner, the other guests aboard the trolley were more than willing and eager to help and to wait while the camera’s owner was tracked down. The guest turned out to be a man travelling with his wife and 84-year-old mother-in-law and two very small dogs. The mother-in-law had been optimistic about being able to stroll about in Forsyth Park but the heat had proven too much for her and she really needed to step back aboard the trolley and ride with her family back to their car. The other guests aboard the trolley were happy to wait patiently while the family got the woman aboard and settled for the ride back to the Visitor’s Center. During the last part of the trip, the guests chatted about places to go, things to do, and fun to have in Savannah and on Tybee Island. The warmth and friendliness of the atmosphere was the perfect end to a lovely day in a stately old beautiful city.

Thanks, Margie; thanks, Lucille; thanks, Oglethorpe Tours. Carrie and I had a great time and we’re still talking over the events of the day and what we saw and learned. You guys rock, and we look forward to touring with you again!

NOTE: This is not an “official” endorsement of one tour company over the others. This is simply an account of one “touristy” day I enjoyed in Savannah on the trolley I happened to be on and the people I happened to be with. I plan to take trolley tours with each tour company in the future, so I know what each has to offer. Click here to vist the Oglethorpe Tours website. Or call them at 912-233-8380.

Savannah – Georgia Historical Society – See You In Class 2009

It is entirely possible that if you hang with me long enough, you will be heartily sick of hearing about Savannah. Yes, I am hopelessly addicted to the Georgia coast, and steadfastly obsessed with the town James Oglethorpe planted in 1733.

Savannah is – special. As I said to my friend Bobbi, “you don’t have to be “out there” to feel at home in your skin in Savannah, but it helps.” Many historic towns are said to have “atmosphere,” or “ambiance,” or “charm,” but Savannah goes way beyond those things. Savannah hums to herself, and sometimes if you listen you can hear the words. You can’t always make them out, but you can hear them. Sometimes you can hear Savannah laughing, and sometimes you can hear her sigh.

Okay, so I’m “out there.” As a rule I am a GRITS (Girl Raised In The South) with a hangover from Sunday School and an inherent understanding of how to properly fry a chicken and make sweet tea. I did not grow up believing in ghosts and I don’t believe in them now. But in Savannah, you find yourself altering many things you thought you believed – or didn’t.

Savannah and St Augustine ignited my interest in dead people. You see, I have a terrible habit of finding the most fascinating people and wanting to get to know them better – after they are dead. I love getting to know these people, but it presents a problem for me because it’s a mighty tough task to get to know someone after they are dead. I mean, with the decomp and silence and all. Yet I carry on because I have this endless, insatiable curiosity.

So, a few months ago, I saw an email in my inbox called “See You In Class” from the Georgia Historical Society. Lo and behold, the GHS offered a series of summer classes dedicated to research and preservation of genealogy, family documents, oral history… as well as walking tours of noteworthy subjects in Savannah. I was so there.

On July 13, GHS held its Introduction To Genealogical Research class. Now, while I am certainly interested in researching the two lines of my own family that go back to Savannah during her birth, I also wanted to learn the resources and protocols of this marvelous library. So off I went to Hodgson Hall on Whitaker Street to explore this delightful place.

The beautiful and stately Hodgson Hall, home of the Georgia Historical Society.

If you love history, live in the area (and by “in the area” I mean on the planet) and have not visited Hodgson Hall, I urge you to do so. The hall was built in 1875 for the express purpose of housing the Georgia Historical Society which by that time was thirty-six years old already. So the building has never been anything but a research library. And what a library it is! It is pure enchantment to simply walk along and look at the titles on the shelves. Being a little ADD myself, it’s easy to forget why I am there in the first place when I see such delightful titles as I pass the shelves in search of a specific book. I have learned to just keep my head down and go straight to the book I need, otherwise it’s too easy to lose myself as I give in to the temptation to pull wonderful volumes and forget why I am there in the first place.

I have attended several other really great classes at GHS since then, and next week will be there for two classes: Oral History, Getting Started and Oral History, It’s Recorded, Now What? These will be wonderful classes, I am sure.

Across from Hodgson Hall is the beautiful Forsyth Park, with its neat walkways, abundant wildlife, splendid fountain and weathered wooden benches that beg a tired visitor to sit a spell and just take in the magic. It’s a great place to stroll and think about what you’ve learned at the magnificent Hodgson Hall. The fountain’s comforting splashing punctuates the birdsong and the ancient live oaks with their dripping Spanish moss provide lovely shade – and if you listen, maybe a sweet song or two.

My Savannah Obsession

My Savannah obsession took a little longer to develop than my St Augustine one. It’s not that I had anything against Savannah… it’s more like James Oglethorpe just sort of got my dander up. And it’s not that I disliked the guy. It’s just that, being a St Augustinian in my heart, I really resented his unrelenting eighteenth century efforts to take my city.

Okay, yes, you’re right. I know the Spanish were just as bad about the Debatable Land along what is now the Georgia coast. But when lines are drawn, you naturally see your side as being right and the other side as being jerks. So I snootily refused to make friends with Oglethorpe or to like his city, strictly on principle.

But Savannah has a way of wearing you down. And being an insatiable history hound, when a person or a place wears me down, I have to absorb all I can about that person or place. Savannah got to me with her most lethal weapons: her giant, ancient live oaks with Spanish moss dripping almost to the ground, limbs extended over city streets making me feel like I was being embraced by loving arms.

Yup. I am a sucker for Spanish moss.

Because I am a sucker for Spanish moss. Pure and simple. Yes, Savannah reeled me in with bait as simple as Spanish moss. Some days I feel like the dumbest fish that ever lived. But then, I am easily distracted by shiny objects.

So, Savannah got her hooks in me. I began to learn more about the city from which I had never lived more than four hours. I fell hopelessly in love with her quiet willingness to share, if I was willing to accept.  And I made friends with James Oglethorpe.

To know Oglethorpe is to know Savannah, and to really understand Savannah, you have to understand James Oglethorpe. When you look at the city through his eyes and see it as he saw it, you can clearly see his dream for a colony. Not the colony of British rejects that Georgia is so commonly thought to be, but a colony of people who just wanted a second chance and were willing to work hard – and maybe even die – for that chance.

What would it take to plant a colony in a place where only Indians and alligators lived, and to survive there? Where would these people live? Who would build their houses? Where would they get food and clothing? The passengers that disembarked from the ship Anne in 1733 brought what they thought they would need in the way of relevant goods, and they brought seeds and materials to grow or build or make whatever else they needed that they didn’t have.

What exactly does that mean? Well – it means if you got off the boat and realized you had forgotten your favorite shirt or your pillow or your fork, then you did without until you made, grew, or traded for another. No WalMarts or Dollar Generals to run to if you needed toilet paper or light bulbs. And this happened because of the vision of one man – a member of the gentry, who was willing to give everything he had to the people who believed in him and in themselves enough to take the risks they took.

The fountain in Forsyth Park, across from the Georgia Historical Society.

Savannah overwhelms me. She overwhelms me not only with her sheer beauty and unique nature, but in her strength and in the wonders that pop up everywhere I look. Savannah gives you very little. In order to know Savannah you have to make the effort to know her. She doesn’t give herself up easily because she is a city of layers. To really know her, you have to peel off the layers to get down to the bone and then you find yourself sitting next to James Oglethorpe, looking out over the marsh, nodding and saying, “Now I see it. You were right.” He gives you an appreciative smile in return and you vow you feel him pat your hand in friendship and acceptance because now, you understand.

These days, I spend a lot of time with James, and with some of those who helped him build a colony: Mary Musgrove, Noble Jones, my own ancestors William Stephens and Henry Parker. Re-constructing these lives and purposes fascinates me. I am eternally grateful to the staggeringly amazing staff at the Georgia Historical Society for their patience with me and their help as I sift through yet another box of documents for yet another tidbit of information to push me a wee bit farther along.

Because every little bit I gain expands and deepens my attachment to the city and to those who built it. Is that attachment worth anything? I don’t know. Don’t care. I read a wonderful quote by Mike Dolan (HawaiianLife): “Knowing the past makes you responsible as the caretaker for their story…”

Is it arrogant to think of myself as a “caretaker?” I don’t know. Don’t care. All I know is that I’ve learned the past and now I will take the utmost care of the stories and share them the only way I know how.

I see it, Jamie. I understand.