San Rafael Valley, AZ ~~ Photo by Bill Haas

Saturday, July 18, 2009

SAPELO ISLAND, GEORGIA

Leaving Florida, I headed straight to Georgia's Sea Islands, also known as the Golden Isles. In my opinion, "Golden Isles" is the name given to these islands because they are enclaves where only the rich and famous can afford to live. They were originally simply referred to as the "barrier islands."

Of Georgia's barrier islands, Sapelo is the fourth largest. It differs from its neighboring sea islands in that all but a little over 400 acres belongs to the State of Georgia in partnership with three different wildlife and research entities. The other 434 acres is the privately-owned Gullah/Geechee (pronounced Gee-zee) community known as Hog Hammock, one of two original Gullah/Geechee communities still intact.
My original motivation for visiting Sapelo was to learn more about the Gullah/Geechee culture. The Gullahs are descendants of slaves who were captured in rice-producing regions of West and Central Africa, brought to Georgia's Sea Islands in the early 1800's and forced to work the plantations in the "low country" and islands of the Southern Atlantic coast.

In 2006, Congress established the GULLAH/GEECHEE CULTURAL HERITAGE CORRIDOR in a valiant effort to preserve this dying African-American culture and its unique language, folklore, religious beliefs and to protect its historical sites and artifacts. The corridor extends along the Atlantic coast from Wilmington, NC to Jacksonville, FL.

Geographic isolation and their strong sense of family and community were key factors in the survival of the Gullah/Geechee culture. Because of these influences, the Gullahs were able to establish communities and hold onto their traditions both during and after enslavement.

I was privileged to join the by-reservation-only group that boarded the ferry from the Visitor Center near Darien, GA, then five miles later, upon docking at Sapelo, to be met by a yellow school bus driven by Cornelia Walker Bailey, Sapelo's historian and life long resident of Hog Hammock, for an enlightening, narrated tour of the southern portion of the Island.
Welcome to Sapelo Island...
...and Hog Hammock
Tabby is a mixture of lime, sand, oyster shells and water. There is some disagreement among historians about who first introduced its use on Sapelo. Ms Bailey claims slaves stuffed tabby mixture between logs to eliminate wind and water from entering slave quarters. It eventually found other applications, such as this foundation. In its day, entire homes were built of tabby mixture. The key to its survival was keeping vegetation from invading.
200-year old Behavior Cemetery.
Sapelo's physical profile includes its Maritime Forest, Salt Marshes, Hammocks, Sand Dunes and of course, the Beach.
This Luna Moth (Green Moth) kept several of us transfixed and curious during one of our stops. I had never seen one before so of course I took at least a dozen photos. Just let me know if you want to see them all!!!!!
A dedicated group has taken up the crusade to educate and involve the islands' younger generations in an effort to preserve the language and legacies of the Gullah/Geechee culture. Their "SICARS" center is a humble yet modern meeting place. Its focus also includes building restoration, land use and policy reform and planning Sapelo's annual Cultural Day of traditional music, food, arts, tours and demonstrations, to be held this year on October 17.

A teachers' study group let me photograph their beach finds that included this Whelk egg case, also called a Mermaid's Necklace. Each one of those discs contained numerous baby Whelks.
Whelks are gastropods -- edible sea snails, and are apparently plentiful in these parts either as food or bait.
The "Trough" isn't really a bar in the usual sense. It does sell beer and mini mart stuff, but it's strictly standing room only -- as in stand in line to pay!
It was on the Trough's veranda, however, that I was charmed watching a determined youngster figure out how to straighten out his jackknifed ATV train!
The last private owner of Sapelo was R.J. Reynolds, tobacco magnate, and a visit to his mansion, now a Georgia State Park, was included in our tour.
Female Sago Palm
Male Sago Palm. You probably didn't need me to tell you which was which!
If the ashtray on this bathtub's ledge is any indication, it's no wonder that Mr. Reynolds died of emphysema!
The circus ballroom includes cartoon murals of people he supposedly didn't like -- wife number three, for instance!
Don't know who this guy portrayed -- a liar? a drunk? a busybody? All of the above? Certainly a curmudgeon in any case!
The entire mansion and grounds can be rented for parties, retreats, weddings, etc. Two-days and 16 adults minimum, all meals included, big bucks required!
Reynolds' barns have been converted to laboratories and living quarters for students and faculty at the University of Georgia's Marine Institute.
Time to return to the mainland dock. If you want to tour the north end of the island, a second reservation on a different day is required. I think it has to do with matching tour times with the ferry schedule, but it's only $10.00 -- truly a bargain.
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I hope you will find some time to read her short poetic reminiscence, "I am Sapelo" by Cornelia Walker Bailey found at this address:


and a detailed article describing a visitor's experience at Sapelo. The author does a much better job than I ever could!


Friday, July 17, 2009

BEE-BALM SERIES

So, to digress from my chronological adventures, the following describes in photographs the various stages of bloom of BEE-BALM, a remarkable flower in the mint family. I first spotted it on Balsam Mtn. Road in the Great Smoky Mountains NP -- it took my breath away. Clicking to enlarge the closeups will give you views a casual passer-by won't usually see.

If flowers don't hold much interest for you, skip this post and go fold your laundry or something, and come back later!!!
Then, in front of the Museum in Cherokee, NC, there was a mass planting of a cultivated variety that kept the bees very busy. This variety was a magenta shade, not the fire-engine red I found growing in the wild.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

MR. JIMMY

Jimmy Carter is a man who lives what he teaches. He is a man guided by Christian principles and Golden Rule ethics. He is a man of peace who performs good deeds the world over. Although I didn't vote for Jimmy Carter, my respect and admiration for this man has grown substantially over the years. And so it was a no-brainer to plan an itinerary around one of his Sunday School presentations at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, Georgia. (Mrs. Carter was tending to an in-law's illness.)
There aren't too many people who are greeted by a bomb sniffing dog and a bevy of secret service agents searching purse and person at their neighborhood church! This is Nellie, a three-year old Dutch Shepherd that, her trainer claims, is not only tuned to detect explosive material, she can smell a run-away criminal's adrenaline a block away! She circled my Lazy Daze wagon, sat down, and waited for some "good-dog" ear scratches from her master as my rolling home passed muster.
"Put your purse on the table, and hand over your camera."
The people of Plains consider the Carters just plain folks who happen to have strong family ties in the community of 700 or so. Mr. Carter cuts the grass at the church grounds; Rosalynn (pronounced ROSElynn) takes her turn cleaning up.
The church's simple wooden cross and collection plates were hand crafted by Mr. Jimmy in his workshop down the road, with tools given him by his White House staff.
As the church filled, Miss Jan (Amy Carter's 4th Grade teacher) prepared the congregation with an hour's worth of do's, don'ts and entertaining anecdotes and Jimmy stories: We are not to stand when he enters (he's no longer the President); we are not to applaud (he comes here to teach, not to perform); we may not ask for autographs; we may not ask questions; the only photographs allowed of him inside the church are when he is polling visitors about where you're from; if you are a visiting minister, you might be asked to give the opening prayer; and, yes, after the service photographs with Mr. Jimmy are allowed, and "PLEASE do not ask him to hold your purse while your picture is taken"!
It was a pretty heady experience to be in the presence of a living president and Nobel Peace Prize winner whom I hold high in my esteem. I was honored. He is 84 years old and his smile still twinkles, and I'm amazed at the energy he and Mrs. Carter devote to The Carter Center in Atlanta and their philanthropic endeavors around the world. They had just returned from Lebanon, Syria, Damascus and Jerusalem, and he spent some time describing how he and Rosalynn had monitored the voting process during Lebanon's recent elections, among other pursuits.
After the service, Miss Jan has her hands full, a little like herding crickets I suppose.
She and another church volunteer patiently organized the photo op line and learned how to operate individual cameras...
...all under the watchful eye of the Secret Service.
Yes indeed, he did too have his arm around me...stupid photographer...how on earth did that happen? I KNOW I was there. And I KNOW better than to relinquish my camera to a stranger. Now just LOOK what happened!!!
One of the agents deigned to answer some of my questions: Yes, there are separate Secret Service quarters on the premises of Carters' home; yes, the protection is 24/7 for both of them; yes, we travel with them when the Carters visit other countries; yes, our families stay with us in nearby towns and we rotate between our homes and the Carter home; no, you can't take my picture.

Did you see those headlines? "Little old lady thrown in Plains hoosegow, camera with stealth telephoto confiscated, sentenced to August stoop labor over a hot, boiling peanut pot."
The town of Plains is the site of three "Jimmy Carter National Historic Sites" honoring its famous native: his boyhood home, Plains High School and the Depot that acted as Mr. Carter's 1976 Campaign Headquarters.
Plains High School is now a museum with auditorium/theater, bookstore and everything you want to know about Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter, then and now.
The Boyhood Farm
This must have been a family of neat eaters -- no napkins necessary! That sure looks like a healthy farm meal -- and most of it grown right outside the back door.
Miss Lillian was a working mother. She would leave the chore list for the Carter children on this table, and they'd better look here as SOON as they returned from school!
The Carters were the first on their block to have an indoor shower!
A ranger boils peanuts for visitors to the farm and entertains us with peanut lore and trivia. Boiled is the traditional Southern way to eat peanuts. Some are boiled with just plain salt, others are spiced with seasonings. You can buy them along roadsides throughout Georgia.
First you suck the juices, then you shell them and eat the soft little peas warm. You know peanuts are legumes, not nuts, right?
Downtown Plains (about three blocks long)
The street was undergoing some fixing-up in front of the Depot.
The family and its watchers presently reside in there some place behind the trees. Yes, there is a gate, and a sentry's post marks an inconspicuous driveway. These grounds are off limits to the public.
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LEAVING PLAINS
Lovely backroads beckon...
Sundrops -- thousands of them along the road
...and a visit to Farmer Brown's Roadside Market was an essentiual stop. (Think fresh peach ice cream -- the veggies are just props!)