Before leaving Charleston, South Carolina I had a telephone conversation with an old friend I’d known in New York in 1979-1981 period of my life. She and I had been close. We had recently reestablished contact and for a few months we had been planning a get together in her home in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. Sometime during my stay at the Air Force Inn we talked on the phone again. I had been trying to connect for final plans as I was going to drive to her home after Charleston. When I got her on the phone she explained that things had taken a drastic turn for her and that a visit was out of the question. We actually were relieved to admit we weren’t prepared to see each other and that postponing/cancelling was the thing to do. Therefore I ditched the idea of a trip further south into Florida.
My decision to see Savannah was simple. I had seen the movie “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” with Kevin Spacey and I liked the views of Savannah. It intrigued me, the large live oaks with the Spanish moss hanging, the old homes along tree lined streets, the charm of the neighborhoods was compelling. I decided I wanted to see the place so I picked the old Rt. 17 out of Charleston to Savannah as a way to go. The trip was only a few hours long and I got to Savannah late in the morning. I found an interesting area of the city, E. Bay Street in the North Historic District.
There were people walking everywhere. Not crowds really but small groups or couples all seeming to be touring or sightseeing. Many older couples; people with gray hair were everywhere. I felt a sense of longing as if I were lonely but I know I wasn’t lonely. I took a few pictures with my cell phone and walked slowly about admiring the open park spaces along E. Bay Street. I found a bench and sat in a sunny location for a few minutes. More couples, older couples, passed by. All of them were moving along with some determined purpose. They weren’t strolling. I noticed they were striding, covering ground. That is what was bothering me. It seems I was catching their loneliness. I felt a bit miserable at their sight. Not a lot of hand holding nor speaking to each other.
I relaxed on my bench and felt the warm sun and I took a few more pictures. I admired the large trees lining the parks along E. Bay Street. I felt connected to the place and to the earth; Gaia, the mother. I was being held by the bench and serenaded by the parks, the trees, the Spanish moss, and the various small monuments and markers along the sidewalks. It dawned on me I needed not to walk or move along the paths through this lovely part of the city, I only needed to sit still and let it all come to me. That is when I connected my discomfort with the walking couples. Their presence and their determined actions were disruptive to the ability of the place to be generous and give to them softly and gently with ease. I sat some more and felt the place fill me some more and then I got up and returned to my car.
Before leaving E. Bay Street I stopped into a small bistro and asked for a cup of coffee to go. The waitstaff there were pleasant, friendly, and asked about the weather in Maine. They had been having very cold days and night and this was only the second day of nice weather for them to get out. I paid for my coffee and left. The SAAB was where I left it and together we found the interstate highway, I 16, leading west toward Macon and Atlanta. I had contacted a friend from years past living in Mississippi. She was open to a visit so we planned a meeting in a few days. My driving the interstate system for a while felt alright. I needed to cover a lot of miles in just a few days so that’s what interstates are for. Still I couldn’t resist a stop at the information centers whenever I got close to one.
I stopped at Metter, Georgia after a few hours. It was close to dinner time and rush hour and I was in the middle of the jump to Atlanta. I stayed at the Metter information center for about half and hour looking at maps, searching for place to visit, of interest. While I was sitting at a table in the center a young guy entered who had been sitting on a bench outside the place when I arrived. I gave him a casual once over and the sight of a automatic piston in a holster on his hip gave me a bit of a start. I’m not used to seeing people packing firearms in public. Not sure I will get used to it in a casual sense.
So I contacted friend Linda Lou on Tuesday the 25th of February and planned to drive to Ridgeland, Mississippi to arrive sometime during the next day, Wednesday. The trip was long, I listened to my smart phone music and kept the car in cruise control for most of the way.
One interesting thing happened along the way. I passed into Alabama and stopped to rest for a while in the back of the car. I used the rest rooms there, brushed my teeth, took a pill, washed my face. As a last thing before crawling into the rear of the SAAB I checked Facebook. Freddy Luke had seen my post about entering Alabama and she’d asked me where. I told her it was along I 20 and I was at the welcome center. Up popped Misty Dawn, a friend on FB who said, “Shit, You’re in my neck of the woods.” It turns out that Misty’s parents live a few miles from that place. She was on spring break. We chatted a bit as I got into the car and continued through Alabama and into Mississippi.
I arrived in Mississippi sometime in the late afternoon of Wednesday the 26th of February. With the exception of one minor detour on I 20 between Meridian and Jackson the whole trip from Savannah was a piece of cake. I got to Jackson and turned north on I 55 into Ridgeland. There I met Linda at a location that was easy to find and she led me to her house on Autumn Crest Drive. We spent a few days reminiscing and catching up with stories of friends and relations. We had a gentle, loving time together.
On Wednesday Linda asked if I’d like to visit Vicksburg battle grounds. I declined; not sure why. I opted instead to go with her to Tupelo, Mississippi to visit Elvis Presley’s birthplace and favorite hangouts there. That was a fun trip. We ate at Elvis’s fave hamburger joint, saw the store where he wanted a bicycle but got a guitar instead. Nice place Tupelo. Nice place.
My visit with Linda was perfectly sane and enjoyable. I left with good feelings for her and her life there. She is doing well enough and will improve her life over time. I love Linda very much and my connection with her is solid.
I left Ridgeland late in the morning of the 27th Thursday. I had called my nest visiting spot in New Orleans. My new neighbor Pat has a home in New Orleans. We are good friends and we like each other’s company. I told her I’d be along sometime before dark; that I was taking a slow road from Jackson, Mississippi to New Orleans. My new route would be U.S. 61 from Vicksburg to Baton Rouge and the I 10 to New Orleans.
Before I left Mississippi I went to Vicksburg to see the National Park. I spent about 15 minutes in the visitor’s center where all the park information lives. After examining a few exhibits I stopped to look at a life size image of two soldiers; a Yankee and a Confederate. I read all of the notes describing the clothing and equipment shown on them. I spent a long time looking at and reading about those two soldiers. I felt emotional for some reason; not sure why. I couldn’t put my finger on the source let alone what the feeling was other than sadness. I left the center and returned to the SAAB and got in. I sat for a while, started the engine and left to continue down U.S. 61 for Louisiana.
I arrived in New Orleans near 5 P.M. Pat and I talked on the phone a bit to make sure I would find her house on S. Claiborne Avenue. I arrived with no problem. Pat and I greeted each other like old pals that we are and then went to dinner at a wonderful local place. I was in the warm weather of New Orleans and eating good food with a marvelous friend.
Playing Fair and Being Kind 