On My Mind
Oct. 17th, 2015 11:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dedalus_1947Other arms reach out to me.
Other eyes smile tenderly.
Still in peaceful dreams I see
The road leads back to you.
I said Georgia, oh Georgia,
No place I find.
Just an old sweet song
Keeps Georgia on my mind.
(Georgia on My Mind: Hoagy Carmichael & Stuart Gorrell – 1930)
The first time I visited the state of Georgia was to see the graduation of a family friend, Ed Killmond, in 1999. He attended SCAD, the Savannah College of Art and Design – a ubiquitous school of fine arts that was just as indefinable as the city that housed it. I fell in love with Savannah. That city was the closest I’ve ever come to a Brigadoon-like experience with a place. Savannah was a city out-of-time; a magical location that mixed a rich colonial and antebellum past with a laidback attitude toward the present and the future. It was a Southern city with Mediterranean appeal. Besides attending the commencement exercise, which featured an address by Nora Ephron, the talented author and film director of When Harry Met Sally, and Sleepless in Seattle, we spent all our time wandering through the cobbled streets and dockside quays, and walking from garden square to garden square. The city made such an impression on us, that Kathy and I made a point of re-visiting it in 2008, when we drove there from Hilton Head, South Carolina, after attending the wedding of another family friend, Kate Horton. There is only one problem in experiencing such a unique city like Savannah, it seemed completely disconnected from the State of Georgia and the rest of the American South.
Now, when I think of Georgia, I think of peaches, Ray Charles, and Atlanta; and I associate Atlanta with General Sherman’s “March to the Sea”, the famous novel and movie, Gone With the Wind, and the home of Coca Cola, Ted Turner, CNN, and Delta Airlines. However, except for deplaning and boarding airlines at its airport, I’ve never actually set foot in the city of Atlanta. So when Kathy mentioned the possibility of attending the Catholic Leadership Summit of the NCEA (National Catholic Educational Association) being held there, I lobbied mightily to go. I thought that this national conference would finally give us an opportunity to discover the Old and New South for the first time, and at its epicenter.
Our trip to Atlanta has been on our calendar for a few months now, but I have only recently gotten down to actually outlining an itinerary. Of course, Kathy’s ability to sightsee will be somewhat hampered by her attendance at the Summit. I, on the other hand, will be free to indulge myself in an orgy of tourist consumption. What I learned very quickly was that Atlanta, when contrasted against famous coastal cities like Savannah and Charleston, SC, is relatively new. It was established in 1837 at the intersection of two railroad lines, and it literally rose from the ashes of the Civil War to become a national center for commerce and innovation. I was also surprised to learn that it ranked as a “global”, “alpha”, or world-class city, like New York, London, Hong Kong, Paris, Chicago, San Francisco, and even Los Angeles. However, before Southerners get too carried away by this designation, I should point out that Atlanta was mentioned at the very end of the list.
I suppose this essay is more about my anticipation over the trip to Atlanta, rather that a finished report or critique of the city. At this point I’ve only read up on Atlanta and researched nearby towns and cities. I’ve created lists of places to visit, and outlined some general points of interest in Atlanta and parts of Georgia. I will mention only two of them here:
I dropped the city of Augusta from my “Must See” roster after learning that it was close to impossible to gain entrance into its exclusive “Home of the Masters Golf Tournament”. Although I was disappointed at first because I’d hoped to visit the Pro Shop there and purchase some souvenirs, I quickly found a “literary” substitute for this elitist golfing “mecca”. I decided on the little-known place called Milledgeville. Milledgeville is a town outside of Macon, GA, and it happens to be near the family farm of Flannery O’Connor, the noted Roman Catholic author who was a member of the Post-War generation of Southern writers that included Robert Penn Warren, John Crowe Ronson, and Andrew Lytle, who edited the Swanee Review. Flannery O’Connor was born in Savannah, GA, in 1925. After attending the Iowa Writers Workshop, she wrote two novels, Wise Blood and The Violent Bear It Away, and published two books of short stories, A Good Man is Hard to Find, and Everything That Rises Must Converge. Tragically, in 1951 she was diagnosed with Lupus Erythematosus, the degenerative disease that killed her father when she was 15 years old, and she was forced to retire to her family farm in Milledgeville, called Andalusia, until her death in 1964. Upon reflection, I was glad that our prohibition from entering the hallowed halls of the Augusta National Golf Club would allow us to pay homage to a distinguished American author who wrote on Roman Catholic themes.
The last place I added was Roswell. No trip to Atlanta would be complete without seeing an antebellum plantation like Tara, in Gone With the Wind. But since Tara was fictional, another had to be found. Roswell fit the bill. Roswell is a town just outside of Atlanta that boasts three outstanding examples of antebellum architecture. Archibald Smith Plantation is the very unromantically named plantation, and two mansions, Barrington Hall and Bulloch Hall, join it in Roswell. All in all, Georgia should prove to be a cornucopia of historical, cultural, educational, and commercial sites and locales. However, what I see, and the places I visit, would be best reported after they are experienced. So for the time being, Georgia will have to remain “an old sweet song” until I drive its highways and travel its streets and roads to see for myself. I’ll let you know in a few weeks.
Other eyes smile tenderly.
Still in peaceful dreams I see
The road leads back to you.
I said Georgia, oh Georgia,
No place I find.
Just an old sweet song
Keeps Georgia on my mind.
(Georgia on My Mind: Hoagy Carmichael & Stuart Gorrell – 1930)
The first time I visited the state of Georgia was to see the graduation of a family friend, Ed Killmond, in 1999. He attended SCAD, the Savannah College of Art and Design – a ubiquitous school of fine arts that was just as indefinable as the city that housed it. I fell in love with Savannah. That city was the closest I’ve ever come to a Brigadoon-like experience with a place. Savannah was a city out-of-time; a magical location that mixed a rich colonial and antebellum past with a laidback attitude toward the present and the future. It was a Southern city with Mediterranean appeal. Besides attending the commencement exercise, which featured an address by Nora Ephron, the talented author and film director of When Harry Met Sally, and Sleepless in Seattle, we spent all our time wandering through the cobbled streets and dockside quays, and walking from garden square to garden square. The city made such an impression on us, that Kathy and I made a point of re-visiting it in 2008, when we drove there from Hilton Head, South Carolina, after attending the wedding of another family friend, Kate Horton. There is only one problem in experiencing such a unique city like Savannah, it seemed completely disconnected from the State of Georgia and the rest of the American South.
Now, when I think of Georgia, I think of peaches, Ray Charles, and Atlanta; and I associate Atlanta with General Sherman’s “March to the Sea”, the famous novel and movie, Gone With the Wind, and the home of Coca Cola, Ted Turner, CNN, and Delta Airlines. However, except for deplaning and boarding airlines at its airport, I’ve never actually set foot in the city of Atlanta. So when Kathy mentioned the possibility of attending the Catholic Leadership Summit of the NCEA (National Catholic Educational Association) being held there, I lobbied mightily to go. I thought that this national conference would finally give us an opportunity to discover the Old and New South for the first time, and at its epicenter.
Our trip to Atlanta has been on our calendar for a few months now, but I have only recently gotten down to actually outlining an itinerary. Of course, Kathy’s ability to sightsee will be somewhat hampered by her attendance at the Summit. I, on the other hand, will be free to indulge myself in an orgy of tourist consumption. What I learned very quickly was that Atlanta, when contrasted against famous coastal cities like Savannah and Charleston, SC, is relatively new. It was established in 1837 at the intersection of two railroad lines, and it literally rose from the ashes of the Civil War to become a national center for commerce and innovation. I was also surprised to learn that it ranked as a “global”, “alpha”, or world-class city, like New York, London, Hong Kong, Paris, Chicago, San Francisco, and even Los Angeles. However, before Southerners get too carried away by this designation, I should point out that Atlanta was mentioned at the very end of the list.
I suppose this essay is more about my anticipation over the trip to Atlanta, rather that a finished report or critique of the city. At this point I’ve only read up on Atlanta and researched nearby towns and cities. I’ve created lists of places to visit, and outlined some general points of interest in Atlanta and parts of Georgia. I will mention only two of them here:
I dropped the city of Augusta from my “Must See” roster after learning that it was close to impossible to gain entrance into its exclusive “Home of the Masters Golf Tournament”. Although I was disappointed at first because I’d hoped to visit the Pro Shop there and purchase some souvenirs, I quickly found a “literary” substitute for this elitist golfing “mecca”. I decided on the little-known place called Milledgeville. Milledgeville is a town outside of Macon, GA, and it happens to be near the family farm of Flannery O’Connor, the noted Roman Catholic author who was a member of the Post-War generation of Southern writers that included Robert Penn Warren, John Crowe Ronson, and Andrew Lytle, who edited the Swanee Review. Flannery O’Connor was born in Savannah, GA, in 1925. After attending the Iowa Writers Workshop, she wrote two novels, Wise Blood and The Violent Bear It Away, and published two books of short stories, A Good Man is Hard to Find, and Everything That Rises Must Converge. Tragically, in 1951 she was diagnosed with Lupus Erythematosus, the degenerative disease that killed her father when she was 15 years old, and she was forced to retire to her family farm in Milledgeville, called Andalusia, until her death in 1964. Upon reflection, I was glad that our prohibition from entering the hallowed halls of the Augusta National Golf Club would allow us to pay homage to a distinguished American author who wrote on Roman Catholic themes.
The last place I added was Roswell. No trip to Atlanta would be complete without seeing an antebellum plantation like Tara, in Gone With the Wind. But since Tara was fictional, another had to be found. Roswell fit the bill. Roswell is a town just outside of Atlanta that boasts three outstanding examples of antebellum architecture. Archibald Smith Plantation is the very unromantically named plantation, and two mansions, Barrington Hall and Bulloch Hall, join it in Roswell. All in all, Georgia should prove to be a cornucopia of historical, cultural, educational, and commercial sites and locales. However, what I see, and the places I visit, would be best reported after they are experienced. So for the time being, Georgia will have to remain “an old sweet song” until I drive its highways and travel its streets and roads to see for myself. I’ll let you know in a few weeks.
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Date: 2015-10-17 10:49 pm (UTC)Janet
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