Departed this life October, 20, 2007
From the last email to me:
I will miss you my friend....I remember playing duets with you in the big Victorian house on Rail Road St. The music spinning and twisting it’s way through the thick aromas coming from the tobacco warehouses downtown and mingling with the sweetness of the honeysuckle vines climbing the pecan trees out in the yard.
The cool autumn air lies lightly upon thankful flesh. Raising goosebumps of delight. Summers in South Georgia are a particularly harsh form of Hell. They must be endured in order to be appreciated. Torture indeed. Autumn was glorious respite.
I remember the siren song of gaudy music coming from the “Fall Fair” crammed onto the dirt lots and alleyways behind the rickety old warehouses. Those dusty fields, known only once a year as the “Fairgrounds”, were a wonderland of activity, movement and flashing lights. Smiles all around and laughter rose to a tumult.
The barker’s spiel calling out over an unimaginable dreamscape directly to the eager hearts of entertainment starved children in tiny towns. Strange men calling with promises of mystery and amusement.
“Step right up folks.” “100% guaranteed to be Alive.” “See the ancient wonders in your own backyard.”
I loved autumn in Hahira back then. The smells and emotions waft over me still. Candy apples and memories that stick to this day.
