Americus, GA-McRae, GA 11/3 130 driving miles; 7.1 walking miles

Early start for Ed. He rushed next door, serendipity he called it, to dine at the iconic Waffle House. I declined, having had my "iconic" experience on a previous trip. I satisfied myself with yogurt, berries, nuts, and a banana. Thus satiated, we headed for the best coffee shop in Americus, which was quite a surprise in that it turned out to be not only a great coffee stop, but also a true grass roots effort to aid coffee growers in Guatemala. Hannah, "best" human (1) of the day and barrista, was upbeat, socially conscious, and quite knowledgeable. Unusual as it was to find a place like this in rural Georgia, our surprise likely shows more about our biased stereotyping than it does about the owners of the shop. After coffee, we toured Jimmy Carter's home and historical site in Plains. Once again, I left hoping a leader of his quality will surface on the national stage. From there, we left the hopeful words of Jimmy's favorite (The most inspiring Miss Julia Coleman) teacher, "Study hard. Any one of you boys could grow up to be President," and traveled straight into the dismal swamp of man's inhumanity to man. Andersonville Prison and POW museum, the most infamous, though by far not the only sad example, is a powerful place. At its height, 33,000 prisoners were housed in a 26 acre space. Every unimaginable horror befell the prisoners. One in three died (13,000) in its fourteen month span. As one prisoner wrote, "Men were so emaciated, it took seven prisoners just to make a shadow." Besides documenting the grim cruelty of prison life, Andersonville also recognizes the service and sacrifices of Prisoners of War from all eras. The exhibits are moving, but the riveting thirty minute movie made me want to stand and salute. The most powerful aspect of the space, not counting the eerily empty field that was once the prison grounds, which is staked out along its perimeter with posts that read "deadline", is the cemetary. Manpower was scarce back in the day, so the hundred men a day who died were buried trench style, one emaciated corpse next to another. Today, the headstones represent this fact by lying unnervingly close to each other, shoulder to shoulder as it were. I'm not sure if this will be the last war monument we'll visit on Ed's retirement tour, but today's contrast between Carter's obvious noble nature and the vile viciousness (Claimed as a necessity to shorten the war by both sides) exemplified by this prison camp will be hard to surpass. On a fun note, we met our second "best" human at Carter's Historical site. Judy Miller, who is from Spokane (Rogers grad), is now a fulltime RVer who travels around the country as a volunteer at National Landmark sites and parks. She usually spends three months at a location, volunteering thirty-two hours a week during her stay. She uses her time at each place to become an "expert" in wherever she is. She made our day, and reminded us that life is good, especially today.

As good as looks.

Hannah, barrista supreme.

I found this empty, ramshackle shack to be powerfully symbolic of the stubbornly proud Confederacy.

Miss Julia Coleman's classroom.

I agree.

President Timmy.

Judy Miller, who was so informative, we could have listened to her all day.

Downtown Plains, GA.

Billy Carter's filling station, a nationally registered historical site.

Without Jimmy Carter, Plains likely would be just a whistle stop.

Dinner at the Carter's when Jimmy was a boy.

Then a little sit down time on the screened in front porch.

Within this 26 acre space, 33,000 men endured.

 They endured in makeshift shelters called "Shebangs".

There were low fences called "deadlines". If a man stepped foot into the space between the Shebangs and the wall, he was shot dead by the guards.

What more can a man endure?

Many endured no longer.

And sadly, the wraiths of death visited too often.