McRae, GA-Brunswick, GA 11/5 200 driving miles; 7.5 walking miles

We awoke to grey, gray dreary drizzle, which would have been OK if there had been a good cup of ambition nearby. No such luck. We drove thirty desperately hungry slightly grumpy miles to Baxley for its "best" cup. Let's just say, "That pig got poked." Things spiraled down from there when the Gulah Heretige site (Geechee Kunda) in Riceboro was closed. We're so interested, we're going back tomorrow. Things started looking up when we got to Brunswick because we're just outside peak tourist season so tonight's motel is the cheapest we've paid. Now forced to create an itinerary on the spot, I texted my Dad's former neighbor, Rhonda (Thanks, Rhonda) whose husband is from Brunswick. She suggested we go to St. Simon Island, which we did. We toured Ft. Frederica and learned more about James Oglethorpe as well as more about the English/Spanish conflict. It will be fun to get the Spanish side of the story when we get to St. Augustine. We also visited the "Tabby" slave homes, the Maritime Museum, and Ed dipped his toe in the Atlantic. We met several "best" humans today. We met four fishermen, but I only got pictures of Herman and Lonnel. I was having so much fun jibber-jabbering with Billy (Dad) and Timmy (Son) Russell, I forgot to photograph them. Herman and Lonnel educated us about "whiteys", "reds", flounders, and trout. They were great! Billy and Timmy were down from central Georgia fishing the "two-way", where a guy can go up stream and fish in fresh water or downstream and fish in salt water. They were great, too, and they were educating us not only about whiteys and reds, but also about 'gators. We met Billy and Timmy outside the restaurant Ed picked out for dinner (Mudcat Charlie's). The guys were fun and dinner was excellent. We also met a nice lady earlier in the day named Nan who is a member of the garden club that cares for the Tabby House site. The top of today's human heap was the three high school kids who stopped us outside their school (Glynn Acadamy-second oldest public school in Brunswick). They said they had just come from Psychology class (A lie most likely). Anyway, they asked me to say the crudest of the four letter expletives. They had a theory that people of different social classes say the word differently. I replied that when I was their age, we weren't interested in the word as social status. We were interested in shock value and rebellion (I suspect they are, too). As a former language teacher, I do know we used the word as every part of speech. I told them I was going to mention them in my blog as the kids who were conducting the F**king Experiment, and as soon as I said that, we all laughed. I said, "That sounds so much worse than I intended." They were really fun, and they reminded me that interacting with kids is what I liked most about teaching. I did miss a teachable moment because Ian, the one who asked me to say "bleep" made a comment about the curious power of words. I wish I had given him an assignment to look up Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, and Charles Bukowski. All three men addressed Ian's issue, and Ian would save himself some hardway learning with a little reading. Though I missed the chance (Rusty, I guess), I still relished the moment. They were just "live", curious American kids looking for a way to express themselves. They make me smile and when I lay my head on the pillow tonight, I'll be convinced that life is good, especially today. 

Southern breakfast plate at its most medium.

One of the batteries protecting Ft. Frederica.

Lonnel and Herman.

Nan.

Tabby House.

The significance is that the houses are constructed out of shells.

Ben Aflack is filming a movie in Brunswick. Four square blocks are cordoned off while the town is transformed into a prohibition era locale.

 1920's autos.

People getting photos with actors.

City hall turned into a movie jailhouse.

The "experimenters": Erhan, Sierra, Ian.

Selfie of the day: Mudcat Charlie's, YUM!

Brunswick Stew, a local specialty.

We could have had 'gator tail. Next time.

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.

Cumming, GA-Americus, GA 11/2 180 driving miles; 6.6 driving miles

Nice morning at the KirkShannon Luxury Suites. Eggs over, Semel and Cheese, good coffee, good conversation, and most importantly, great technical assistance from Shannon, who (As is her nature) went the extra mile to test drive my phone (To make sure it was talking) after she installed the Waze app. I was tempted to move in (Maybe as a housekeeper/nanny/driver) except that Karen was glad to have a ride to the airport. Waze guided us through the thick and slick traffic of Atlanta. Gratefully, we managed just fine. We popped Miss Karen out of the car at the airport like a steaming hot Semel just out of the oven. Ed, who has been demoted to Bellhop, helped her with her bag. We said our good byes and before we knew it, Ed and I were driving nearly alone on the back roads of Central Georgia. The traffic was so light, if we'd have wanted to, we could have stopped mid-road for a full scented breath of Georgia pine, or maybe we could have grabbed a fistful of blood red Georgia clay. Once again, the contrast was stunning. FDR's museum at the Little White House was a worthy stop. Would that a leader of his stature would rise to guide our country today. As it was, we learned some new things, or maybe relearned. In any case, among other things. and along with bringing hope to the country, he brought electricity to rural America. The simplicity of his home in Warm Springs is a tangible statement of his connection with common folk. Given his advantaged birth, Roosevelt's record for improving the plight of all Americans stands as a model political leaders should aspire to. Warm Springs is a one stoplight town, so we made ourselves down stream to Americus, GA, gateway to Andersonville Prison and Jimmy Carter's home in Plains. We took time to do laundry at a local spot, and while the locals were none too friendly, no one was actually hostile. They were probably just mind boggled to see two old white guys driving a car from Jersey.  The good news is the rain is letting up, and, Lord willing, we'll be in the Florida sunshine by the end of the week. Having enjoyed a wonderful stop in Atlanta, I once again can report that life is good, especially today.

 Kali Franz: doing homework late Sunday night after a one day 700 mile round trip (Thanks, Mom) to Savannah for a soccer game. I want this kid in my class, but wait I don't have a class: too bad for me.

 Selfie of the day: FDR's coupe.

FDR's towncar. Despite polio, FDR drove himself using hand controls of his own design.

Settle in for the "Fireside Chat".

FDR brought hope to the hearts, minds, and souls of Americans.

A forty-eight flag of pathway of the states leads visitors to the Little Whitehouse.

The Little Whitehouse compound: one bedroom guesthouse, servant's quarters,   six room mainhouse, four marine sentry posts, and a basement (We didn't get to see).

The dining room. Eight people would be crowded.

The living room. Same space as the dining room.

FDR's bedroom.

His chair, though never let it be said that his infirmity ever hindered him.

Roof top table, no seating, outside the laundrymat. Back to thin gruel from the Food Lion.

Chattanooga, TN-Cumming, GA 11/1 120 driving miles; 5.6 walking miles

We enjoyed the extra hour we gained this morning. A guy could get used to sleeping in. Before our stretch of freeway driving, we had a wake up cup of ambition at the truly downtown Starbucks in Chattanooga. I'm pretty sure that steam I saw rising came from Ed's coffee, but one never knows. After coffee, we started to stroll toward Chattanooga's river walk. It was then that the best human of the day came forward. Don, who had been sitting across the way from us at Starbuck's, and who I noticed was deeply involved in a romantic moment with his sweetie, was aware enough to see that Ed had forgotten his hat (Again). He came charging after us like a Virginia cavalier to save the day. Quite remarkable considering the obvious fact that Ed's hat was undoubtedly not foremost on his mind. Thus rescued, we carried on, and though gray, the morning was as warm as the heart of the kind girl we met yesterday. Before leaving town, we did a drive by of UTC's campus. I can see the appeal and its grand presence clearly adds to Chattanooga's charm. Thankfully, the rain held off for the drive to Kirk and Shannon's who live in Cumming North of Atlanta. Even on Sunday, more than several of the 5,000,000 million people who live in the area found their way to the freeway. We were greeted warmly by the Franz clan, which included as a bonus, Karen, mother of Kirk, mimi to Kirk's girls, and sister to my Judy. We enjoyed their gracious hospitality for the remainder of the day, and though our step total may be minimal, we're making up for it by snacking continuously. For those of you who don't know, whenever Judy and I gather with the Franz bunch, we eat well and usually while we eat, we're planning what we'll eat next. It's tradition. We'll camp here tonight in the basement, which quite frankly is better accommodations than we're used to. Right now, we're all doing various things. Ed and I are phone boys. There's a Rumicube game going on at the table, and there's a football game on the telly. Kirk leaves this evening for a conference; we're awaiting the homecoming of Shannon and Kali who have been in Savannah for a soccer game. Soon, we'll enjoy supper, so as you can easily see, life is good, especially today.

Good samaritan, Don, "best" human of the day.

Art shot of the day: Chattanooga's pedestrian bridge.

Selfie of the day.

Part of the river walk.

Hailey Franz.

Maddie Franz.

The girls took us on a safari where they tried to catch wild perch.

Cooper Franz.

Aunt Jana helping Maddie with her himework.

Rumicube game.

Kirk and Maddie: Game Time!

Thin Gruel, Franz style.