SAVANNAH, GEORGIA

Savannah, Georgia

Sat. Nov. 26 - Petersburg,Va.

We were up early. It was 20 degrees and frosty out. We had coffee in the room, as we packed our gear and prepped for the day, still tired from the 13-hour drive yesterday. We saddled up and pointed the metal monster South, towards the Carolinas.

The Carolinas are redolent with Pine trees. They always seem to welcome you as you sail through them at 70 mph. It was getting greener and warmer as we drove further South. A huge accident tied up I-95, in South Carolina, so we sat patiently and waited for authorities to clear the wreckage, hoping there were no serious injuries involved. Soon, the lanes started flowing again. We stopped for coffee and gas. I heard my first “y’all” for the trip, and smiled inwardly at this most quintessential and admirable Southern phrase.

In Georgia, some seven hours later, we exited onto Rte. #16, the access route for Savannah, Georgia. At exit # 157, we found Bay St. and drove through the afternoon traffic, along the Savannah River to the River St. Inn. Parking, in the immediate area, was non existent, so we found a municipal ramp nearby. It too was pretty full. Saturday night rocks in Savannah. We walked stiff-legged across the street and checked into this three-story brick Inn. It is an old tobacco exchange building. It has oaken floors and wide hallways. Room # 439 is pleasant enough and looks out onto the river and the promenade below. At $139 a night, it is reasonable for the location. We unpacked our bags and settled in for a bit, glad to be away from the car.

We rode the hotel elevator down to the river front and walked along the brick-paved and pleasant esplanade. A huge paddle wheeler, the “Georgia Queen,” sat riverside, waiting for her cargo of dinner-time tourists. There were singers and performers scattered along the wharf. Several restaurants, a few bars like “Kevin Barry’s” and some small shops strung out for a half mile along the river. Across the way, a whole fleet of pleasure craft lay at anchor in various marinas. The river draft here is deep. Huge ocean-going freighters sidle up the river, interesting as always to the casual viewer. Families and legions of aging tourists, like ourselves, walked up and down the colorful esplanade.

It was near 5 P.M., so we repaired to our room to change into casual clothes for a “wine and cheese hour” that the hotel holds nightly. We met and talked with couples from Atlanta and Tampa. It was a pleasant cocktail hour. It is a nice function. We have done this sort of thing at other Inns and always enjoy the people that we meet and talk with.

At 6:30 P.M. we descended to the wharf area. Tonight was the “Christmas parade of ships.” We stood amidst large numbers of onlookers, in the evening damp, and watched a mamoth ocean freighter, from the Saga line, three harbor tugs, two fireboats spraying water from their forward cannons, three paddle wheelers, the “Georgia Queen,” the “Savannah” and the “Georgia” drift by. An entire fleet of pleasure craft followed them. All vessels had Christmas lights strung across their masts and rigging. A few palm trees and santa suits also decorated the holiday ships.

The huge, fourteen-story Hotel Westin was ablaze with light, across the river. Every thing sparkled in the evening light. It was Christmas in the South at it finest. 8:30 P.M. started the fireworks display. We watched in the chilly breeze, as fiery and colorful rocket after rocket exploded in the Georgia sky. The crowd oohed and aahed at the wonder that these exhibitions always evoke. It was fun to watch.

Chilled from the night air, we sought refuge in “Huey’s,” a first floor restaurant in the River St. Inn. We had corn bread, salads and a glass of cabernet for openers. Mary had the crab cakes and I the stuffed salmon. Both were accompanied by collard greens, which I loved, and potatoes. This was going to be one of those “buffet pants” meals. Everything was very good. The waiter was only mildly surly. A previous diner had complained about him to the maitre ‘d and he wasn’t pleased. Tough day on the planet for him. Cost was $66 and worth it.

We were tired with the day and returned to our room to write up our notes, chill out and read before retiring. Throngs still wandered up and down the promenade, enjoying the festive Christmas spirit. It is a nice city. We were glad to be here.

Sunday, Nov. 26 - Savannah, Georgia

We arose early, at 6:30 A.M. It was cloudy, cool and 56 degrees out. We showered and prepped for the day. We were headed out to walk through the historic district.

Savannah had been laid out by James Olgelthorpe in 1733. George II had given him a royal charter to settle here. The original charter banned
slavery, liquor, Catholics and indians. It was the time of the Spanish possession of Florida. Animosities, between the English Protestants and the Spanish Catholics, were both real and lethal. Savannah had originally been laid out to include 24 small, park-like squares. Seventeen of them still exist today. They are all shaded by towering oak trees, with that delightfully picturesque Spanish moss hanging from their sturdy branches. Usually a statue, of some Georgian worthy, sits at the center of the square. The center piece of each square is surrounded by grass, flowers and shrubs. Park benches are plentiful. In the heat of a Georgia Summer, these squares must be an oasis of cool.

Savannah had been spared fire and destruction, by General Sherman and the Union Forces, during the American Civil War, so ante-bellum homes abound. Brick-fronted, Georgian, period pieces and more traditional low-country, clap-board architectural beauties abound here. It is an absolute delight to walk along the streets. The Savannah College of Art & Design had taken, as it mission, the project of restoring many of these wonderful structures. Some sixty buildings had been restored to their nineteenth century elegance, over the last few decades. We walked through Johnson Square, Chippewa Sq., and Marcheson square, admiring the homes and buildings that surround them. Juliet Gordon Howe, the founder of the Girls Scouts of America lived here. Her home is preserved and open for visitors.

We stopped at the “Gallery” expresso bar for coffee and enjoyed this trendy bistro. From there, we walked across the Historic district to the “Visitor’s Center.” For $20 each, we boarded a 90 minutes tour of the historic district on a small wooden trolley, with open windows. We first drove along Bay St., admiring the “waving girl” monument, a tribute to all women who waited for their seamen in this busy seaport. Then, we saw a memorial to the Olympics. Sailing events had been held here, when Atlanta hosted the event. We passed by the “Old Pink House”, where we would dine later, and then on past the “Old Harbor Inn” on the River. A brace of Cannons, from George Washington, sit in a small covered shelter, near the “factor’s bell.” It was used to ring in the day’s business in this very busy cotton port. London was the only one larger in the world at the time.

A stirring memorial to veteran’s, in the shape of the Republic of Viet Name, sits near a large celtic cross on Bay street. This city is alive with symbols and particularly proud of its Irish heritage. The St. Patrick’s day parade here is reported to be the 2nd largest in the country. The bars must rock for that whole week. We could see off in the distance, the new and shiny “ Talmadge Bridge,” spanning the Savannah River into South Carolina. Huge freighters slide under her, headed to their portage wharfs.

Lafayette Sq. and Calhoun Sq. slid by, picturesque commemorations of two famous men. The Mercer house, made famous by the book and Movie “Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil” is impressive. The “Mansion in Forsythe Park” is a five star hotel, dignified and stately. The eyes strain hard to see all that there is to see. In Reynolds Sq., stands a statue of John Weslyan, who had founded the Methodist church. He lived and worked here in Savannah. History is every where about you here.

Interestingly, the city had burned extensively in huge fires, during 1796, 1820 and 1889. Several structures, like the “Old Pink House,” had survived all of the conflagrations. Those homes, and other buildings that had survived, make this a stately and charming, southern city worth visiting. We were tiring with the tour, so we got off at the two-block pedestrian mall that is the “City market.” We stopped by “Belford’s.” It is a charming place for Sunday Brunch. We had fritatta omelets, grits and some decent champagne, as we watched tourists wander past the open first floor of the restaurant. It is a nice place to enjoy a relaxing meal on a Sunday.

A light rain had started to fall as we walked back towards the River front. We stopped in a few shops, along the water, browsed and bought some souvenirs, before returning to our room to chill out, write up my notes and settle in, to watch some of the Bill/Carolina Football game on television. After watching the Bills lose to Carolina, we walked back along the esplanade, bought some clothing items and enjoyed the day. At the far end of the walk is a moving memorial to all of the slaves who had passed through this port and continued on, into their lives of servitude.

We were tiring with the day, so we returned to our room and caught a one hour conversation with Ozzie Nelson.(nap) Early evening found us somewhat revived, so we walked back to the historic district for dinner at “The Old Pink House.” It is a federal style, two-story, stucco home with wide plank floors and low ceilings, a period piece from Colonial America. It had survived all of the Savannah’s great fires. A fire was blazing in the hearth as we were seated in the small parlor area. A Napa Valley

Cabernet settled us in. We had she crab soup, spinach salad with oysters, and then ice cream, with pecan pie, and great coffee. It was a an elegant dinner.

After dinner, we walked back along the River. It was 65 degrees and pleasant out this evening. We stopped in “Kevin Barry’s,” a well known Irish Pub in Savannah. We sat at the bar and enjoyed a Smithwick’s ale, as the conversation swirled around us. The performing Tenor wasn’t in the mood for singing, so we abandoned him to his grousing and walked back along the River, enjoying the night’s air. A light rain sprang up, emptying the esplanade. We repaired to our room to read and crash. It had been a nice day in a picturesque, Southern River Town.

Monday, Nov. 28 - Savannah, Georgia

We arose early. It was 60 degrees, cloudy and muggy out. Rain was coming today. We had coffee in the room, watched the t.v news and made ready for another hard day of touristing. We walked one mile up Drayton St. to the D.A.R cemetery and perused the nineteenth century headstones of the famous and the fallen. Many of the head stones, some dating from the 1750’s, had been worn smooth by the weather. There is a metaphor here in this about how lasting our legacy is here on earth. We continued on over Oglethorpe St., admiring the many splendid town houses, with their black, wrought-iron work. It resembles the “South of Broad St.” area in Charleston,South Carolina. We stopped for coffee and then slowly walked the streets, admiring the architecture of the many fine homes.

We walked back to the hotel and changed into casual clothing. Our car had been burglarized in the municipal ramp. Our garment bags had been lifted by the rascals. We would deal with it later. We drove 17 miles towards the Atlantic Ocean and Tybee Island, on the coast. We passed through broad marshes, along the lowlands, enjoying the brown,reedy grass swaying in the wind. The smell of sea and salt was in the air. The sky was crowded with towering, blue-black clouds. Rain was coming in.

We parked near the ocean and walked along the broad sandy beaches of Tybee Island. It was windy and in the 70’s out. The waves broke upon the beach, and birds were flying over head. It was a scene Pat Conroy had written about many times. I join him in his love for this low country. On our way back towards Savannah, we stopped at a local place of note, the Crab Shack. Friends had reccomended it to us.They have a small alligator pond, surrounded by a rough, wooden sided building and dock area, replete with all manner of fishing tackle, crab pots, lobster traps and other nautical regalia. We sat, at a rough wooden table, and enjoyed some crab cakes, crab stew and french fries. It was very good, if you didn’t stop to think about the calories consumed and what all that fried stuff was doing to your system.

The rain was falling in great sheets as we left the Crab Shack. We drove back to Savannah and reported the theft to the police. I drove over to the local police station, filed a report and decided to leave the issue behind us. These things happen when you travel. It was muggy this evening and the rain was continual.

At 5:30 P.M. we met Cindy and Mark, from the eastern shore of Virginia, at the wine and cheese party in the hotel. We chatted for a time, enjoying their company. As fate would have it, Mark was doing work on a house in Virginia, owned by a cousin of mine, one of the Hayden girls, from Buffalo. It is a small world. Several glasses of wine later, Mary and I walked along the esplanade to “One eyed Lizzie’s.” We had some decent she crab soup and Caesar salads.

We were tired from the day and walked back to our room to read and prepare to retire. We called Mary’s Brother in Tallahassee and advised him that we would be arriving tomorrow. It had been a nice stay in a quintessentially Southern City. My comments and observations only but scratch the surface of the beauty and interests that lie here. We plan to return again.

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Joseph Xavier Martin