Overheard, out and about, Mrs. Grundy sees all, tells all

Staff

Published Friday, September 26, 2008

Peeping through my Venetian blind, I stood a long time, in a melancholy mood, admiring the falling leaves; they have been more noticeable now that autumn officially began this week.

One of my former students, David Barnes, sent me word that in my column I listed his and Misty’s three children incorrectly as “Mason, Grant, and Grant.” I should have written “Mason, Raley, and Grant.” I think that David found great delight in correcting his old teacher. He was a mighty fine student; and I’m glad to find that he is as sharp as ever.

Seen at the hospital cafeteria last Sunday, enjoying lunch, were Dan and Virginia Frasher, Sidney (Andalusia historian) and Polly Waits, Betty Greene, Larry and Mary Avery, A. G. and Pat Palmore, John and Mary (“the Belle of Excel”) Hill, Rayford and Carolyn Davis, Bob and Joan Reid, and Charles and Audie Thomasson.

Seen at Off the Square Cafe later in the week were Annalois Nall, Gladys Davis, Nick and Brooke (Maloy) Chapman, Kathy Nall, Cathy Harry, Tommy and Betty Grimes and their son Trey, Malcolm Peevy, Buck Lee, Bobbie McCommons, Shina Wilson, Nathaniel Wright, and Dorothy Cook.

I found out that Gladys Davis’s grandson, Vance, the son of her daughter Anette and Kent Smith, is playing football at Auburn for Coach Tommy Tuberville. Kent and Anette have had Coach Tuberville eat with them in their home; and the Coach, in turn, has had them in his home for a meal.

I hear, too, that Gladys’s husband, Ronald Davis, is serving as interim pastor at Bethany Baptist, where he had served many years before as its regular pastor. It’s good to see him back in the saddle!

The deaf ministry at First Baptist was led last Sunday by Brenda Mooney (music) and John Twitty (sermon).

Eric Searcy spoke briefly on the importance of Bible study. Everybody says behind the back of this teacher at the Andalusia Middle School that he ought to be a preacher.

The anthem by the Adult Choir of First Baptist was Claude Bass’s l96l “Cast Thy Burden upon the Lord,” one of the finest and most beautiful anthems I have ever heard. Dwight Crigger, minister of music, led as Jeanice Kirkland, organist, and Mary Clyde Merrill, pianist, accompanied.

The pastor, Dr. Fred Karthaus, preached on “Hard Words for Hard Hearts,” emphasizing that the inside is more important than the outside, that the essential is more important than the trivial, that character is more important than reputation, and that helping is more important than hurting.

Senior adults at First Baptist, attending their most recent outing to David’s Catfish House in Andalusia, were Bill Law, Margaret Smyly, Sarah Gene Clark, Margaret Prestwood, Barbara Bradley, John Givhan, Louise Jones, Herb and Sue Carlisle, Allene Ezzell, Sybil Smith, Kim and Eleanor Dyess, Gillis and Laura Ann Jones, Myrtle Ruth Williams, and Gordon Vickers, whose beloved wife Trudy continues to recover.

Also going along were Judson and Amy Blackstock and their two children, Joshua and Hannah Grace. Mr. Blackstock is an associate pastor of First Baptist, specializing in church education.

The September 9 meeting of the American Association of Retired Persons was attended in the Dixon Memorial of our public library.

President Joe Wingard reminded members of the AARP motto, “To serve; not to be served,” and of the 50th anniversary of the national AARP and 35th anniversary of the local Chapter l408.

Mary Green, chaplain, worded a devotional.

Mr. Wingard led the group in singing, “Home, Home on the Range” and “My Bonnie Lies over the Ocean,” accompanied at the piano by Herb Jasper, member of the board.

Secretary Evelyn Murphree read the minutes, and Treasurer Elizabeth Millhorn reported the treasury balance.

Clarence Trousdale led in the pledge to the flag.

Pricey Best, chairlady for community projects, collected canned goods brought by members.

Providing a cornucopia of refreshments were Joyce Leddon, Sonja James, Irene Butler, Pricey Best, Catherine Edmonds, Mary Green, Fran Fine, and Flossie Skanes.

The next meeting was set for October l4, Lord willing.

Sue (Bass) Wilson, a local businesswoman whose talents are numerous, gave a learned report on cemetery art and read some humorous epitaphs. At the end of her speech she appropriately sang “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” while accompanying herself on her guitar.

(Miss Sue – she runs this town; she do!)

Guests included Dallas and Boncile Merritt and Florine Smith.

Members present and not already mentioned were Dr. Morgan Moore (board of directors), Bernice Livingston (senior member), Charles McCrory, Ollie Belle Landrum, Delores Gomez (vice-president), Judd Granger (vice-president on leave), Glenda Granger, and Catherine C. Johnson.

At the Andalusia Lyceum this past week Colonel Covington spoke on “Party Spirit,” reminding his audience that President Washington long ago warned against party spirit. He blames our current political, especially economic, woes on the two major parties, “the Demowon’ts and the Republican’ts.” The Colonel said that both parties have this country in a “stallmate.”

I had tea this week with the Covington girls, Miss Cora, Miss Dora, and Miss Flora; also invited was the Portly Gentleman, who gave us a partial report of his recent trip to Georgia.

Said he,

“I headed for Athens, Georgia, for a three-day study of William Gilmore Simms, the most prominent writer in the South before the War Between the States. This study was sponsored by the Simms Society of which I am a member. The society meets every two years.

“Passing Auburn on I-85, I thought of Eva Maloy and wanted to stop and see her; but she has recently moved from her house on Homewood into a retirement home; and I wasn’t sure of its location. Mrs. Maloy, the widow of the late Jim Maloy, taught elementary school here before retiring. She and her husband moved to Auburn thereafter.

“When I crossed the Chattahoochee, which divides Southern Alabama from Southern Georgia, I thought of Sidney Lanier’s poem, ‘The Song of the Chattahoochee.’

“I stopped at the Georgia welcome center for advice on how to get to Athens without going through Atlanta and was told to turn at Newnan and head east on l6. I could not but think of a late cousin of our own Curtis Thomasson, local genealogist and newspaper columnist, Margie Malloy, who lived in Newnan. Mrs. Malloy was a fine, Christian, Southern lady. She was a leader in her love for the United Daughters of the Confederacy and an author of a book on Thomasson history. Curtis thought that she hung the moon.

“Life is so short. Oh, what a bounty of places to see! A thousand lifetimes would not be enough!

“I had never driven on l6, a two-lane, rural route. I passed through Sharpsburg, Senoia, and Griffin.

“I stopped to eat at Anderson’s Restaurant in Griffin, which is about three times the size of ‘the Dimple of Dixie.’

“At the Griffin Regional Welcome Center I talked with a clerk, Niki Turner, and found that Sidney Lanier, the Georgia-born poet, had been baptized in Griffin on March 3l, l844, in the old First Presbyterian Church, no longer extant.

“Griffin is a handsome town.

“Driving on through Jackson, I found beautiful churches, Baptist and Methodist, a Victorian courthouse ‘circled’ by businesses, and, in the middle, a Confederate soldier atop a tall pedestal, typical of small, Southern towns.

“Next I came to Monticello, the neatest, cleanest, tidiest, most attractive, little town I’d come across. The Victorian church there was an architectural wonder. A new bank resembled, appropriately, Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello. Its courthouse is stately.

“My next stop was Eatonton, where Joel Chandler Harris, creator of Uncle Remus and Br’er Rabbit, was born and reared.

“I had been in Eatonton several times before. It is a lovely town, surrounded by fields and woods, amid which stands the old plantation where Harris studied journalism as a boy.

“As I had done before, I drove about, admiring the many, grand, old, ante-bellum homes along Eatonton’s shady streets, the little cabin museum honoring Harris, the ornate Methodist church, and the grand, brick courthouse with its brick columns and pilasters and great, white dome with four clocks.

“I knew that Don Lingle’s brother and mother lived in Eatonton, but I neglected to stop and inquire about them, assuming all was all right. I learned later, to my regret, that Don’s mother was ill and in a hospital in nearby Athens, my destination. If I had just stopped, I could have learned this and probably have visited Don and his mother in Athens. I learned, still later, that she had died.

“One never seems to master all of life’s lessons. That ‘Little Voice’ we sometimes hear should be obeyed. Something told me to stop, but I rushed on. If only I had listened and obeyed, how different my words would be.

“I drove over on 20, that fine four-lane in Northern Georgia, to Madison, known for its ante-bellum homes. Madison, indeed, is a beautiful town; and I drove up and down its shady streets, admiring its architectural beauty. As I try to do, I stopped early in my visit at the Chamber of Commerce, located in an old fire station, and got an overview of the area.

“In its early days Madison was described as ‘the most cultured and aristocratic town on the stagecoach route from Charleston to New Orleans.’ One of the inns from stagecoach days still stands.

“The clerk at the chamber recommended a year-old hotel, the James Madison Inn, for the night. The inn and the town are named for President Madison.

“My room at the inn was fancy — classical music playing as I entered (no, not a live orchestra!), a piece of chocolate candy on my bed (not for long!), which had been turned down for me, a private balcony overlooking a little garden and fountain, a fire place, ceiling fan, double sinks in the washroom (I took turns), a sitting area, robe, desk and stationery, and Jacuzzi.

“Across the street was a restaurant located in an old icehouse and called the Ice House; there I ate grilled trout.

“After supper I walked up the street to the town square and sat and studied a pamphlet on some 45 sights to see in Madison.

“Then I strolled about the square, noting a sign about Oliver Hardy, the famous, movie comedian who teamed with Stan Laurel of England. Ollie, as Stan called him, was born near Madison. His family moved to Madison when Ollie was just a boy and lived briefly in a hotel, now gone, on the square. Mrs. Hardy opened a hotel of her own, the Hardy House. At six Ollie started elementary school in Madison but left in October when his family moved away. Oliver Hardy was something of an old-fashioned, Southern gentleman as one can see in his films. He had a good singing voice and could dance well, too. He did Georgia proud!

“Also on the square were the extremely ornate Morgan County Courthouse, the Rogers House (a plain, plantation style), the Rose Cottage with a flower-and-vegetable garden, and the Museum of Fine Art.

“The next morning I enjoyed a breakfast in the Oak Room downstairs. Fresh flowers decorated each table. A complimentary copy of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution was provided. Joel Chandler Harris had worked for that famous Georgia paper in Atlanta, where one can still visit his home, the Wrens’ Nest, a tourist attraction. Harris is buried in Atlanta.

“Driving around Madison before getting on my way, I viewed dozens of grand houses and churches, including the Presbyterian Church (circa l842), connected with President Woodrow Wilson, himself a Presbyterian and the son of a Presbyterian minister. The father of Wilson’s first wife, Ellen Axson, preached at this church in Madison. The building has Tiffany stained glass.

“I also saw the original building of the Georgia Female College, begun by the Baptists in l849. One of the first graded public schools in the South stands along the same street.

“A new town park is under construction to commemorate Madison’s 2009 bicentennial; it lies just across from the James Madison Inn.

“I took 44l north, coming to Bishop, Watkinsville, and Athens, taking Milledge Avenue to my motel. Milledge Avenue is lined with beautiful fraternity and sorority houses, associated with the University of Georgia, which is located in Athens.”

The Portly Gentleman stopped and took another petit four.

We shall pause here, too, gentle reader, and perhaps hear more of the trip to Athens another time, Lord willing.

I close my blinds for today.