A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

 

     There is an old saying "a picture is worth a thousand words. I think the phrase really means that a picture can lead someone to write a thousand words about it. Pictures themselves don't always give you all of the information you need to realize the story that goes with it but it does give you something to spark the imagination or feed your curiosity. 

     Before photography there were artist who drew and painted what their eyes saw, their work was beautiful and fill museums around the world today and then came photography.  Photography got it's start back in the early 1800's, the cameras were large cumbersome boxes made of wood that had to be set up on a tripod, the negatives were glass plates that had to be handled with care. The person or item being photographed had to remain perfectly still for about 30 seconds and all of the pictures were black and white.

     By the time I was born anybody could be a photographer, the cameras were small hand held and contained rolls of film that were sent away to be developed after exposer. The pictures were still black and white but a professional photographer could colorize the picture after it was developed, my and my brother Pat's baby pictures were colorized in this way. Sometime around the late 50's or early 60's you could buy color rolls of film for your camera, here again there are color pictures of me as a handsome teenager, in a swimsuit no less, showing off my lean mean body.

     Now I was never a camera type of guy although I did from time to time take a few pictures, my mother was the camera person in the family and Linda took her place when we married. Between the two of them my life and that of my boys is well documented. Way back then  ( circa 1967 ) one of the big things was taking pictures after they were developed and putting them in photo albums that then accumulated on coffee tables and book shelves. Linda cherished her photo albums, for her they stored memories of the people she loved but after a while they became collectors of dust. When she passed away we had 19 albums filled with photos going back to the 1930's plus a stack of loose photos, mostly the albums held memories of our 47 year marriage.

     Technology has advanced at a rapid pace in my life time, pictures once printed on a piece of paper and accumulated in albums which accumulated on bookshelves or closet floors now fit in to a flash drive the size of  your little finger with room to spare. Even cell phones have a larger capacity than 19 albums. There is no more waiting for the pictures to be developed and they can be uploaded to a printer if you want a hard copy.

     Five years went by before I decided to do something with our photo albums, they held a lifetime of memories which I carried in my thoughts, they no longer held the same meaning they once held so what am I to do with them. I decided to sort the pictures and have them installed on a flash drive for the boys but there was a problem - I was not the person to do this because I had no idea what the hell I was talking about.

     This is where it helps to have kids who are smart and up to date with technology, Danny to the rescue. I sat down and removed all of the pictures from the albums, sorted them by year, labeled them with names, dates and places and gave them to Danny, he in turn copied them on his phone then transferred them to a flash drive, it took him almost a year but I was in no hurry.

     I started this blog so my kids, the grandkids and hopefully future generations will have something to look back on and see several generations of family that they never knew. I have put down every memory that comes to mind, they come a little slower now but they do still come. The pictures will put a face to my stories. 

     So, MJ and Matthew, somewhere there are pictures of people you never knew, your dad and uncle Clay from the time they were babies, your grandmother and I from when we were babies, great grandparents, great great grandparents back to the 1800's. Hopefully all of this will light a fire in your curiosity from an early age and you will add to what I have started.

The Sunday Drive

      I haven't written anything since June of last year. It's not that I didn't have any ideas I actually have several draft stories waiting for me to finish them but this has been a rather hectic year to say the least. I never for a moment thought I would have a year like this in my life time. First it was the election of a US president, the two candidates ( the sitting President and a former Vice President ) both were very controversial and had the nation turned topsy turvy before the election and even more so since the new President took office this last January. 

     Then there was this virus called COVID 19 that struck the entire world with sickness and death. Kay wouldn't let me leave home for months which turned out to be no big deal as so many businesses were closed, short staffed and out or low on merchandise. My barber was closed for about four months so I let my hair grow long and I grew a beard which I still have ( I look very distinguished if I do say so myself ). To make a long story short life as we knew it has mostly disappeared and the the new lifestyle just  sort of got in my way. 

     One of the things Kay and I started when we met  was to spend our Sunday afternoon on a Sunday drive around the countryside. We have traveled far and wide over north Georgia and sections of the states of North Carolina and South Carolina. Most of our travels have been on what we call "back roads", small two lane roads that twist and turn through and over the hills of Appalachia. We generally are out for 4 or 5 hours but have been out as much as 8. 

     These chaotic times had us looking forward to Sunday afternoons. We would ride around until we saw something of interest and stopped to look around, flea markets, antique stores, scenic overlooks and even wild flowers on the side of the road have caught our attention from time to time. Being a master gardener, Kay has a keen interest in the flora, fauna and foliage we see along the road side and we sometimes stop to dig up a plant or two for our own yard. Actually, after digging up plants with my bare fingers or a stick I bought a trenching tool that we keep under the seat of the truck. There are quite a few specimens adorning our yard, Kay has done herself proud with the arrangements of the plants she has spread around the house. Every evening before calling it a day Kay will stroll around the yard just to see what flower has opened that day sometimes I walk with her, I found a few of the plants and like to see how well they are doing.

     When Kay's Coonhound, Boone, passed away she had him cremated and one Sunday last fall we hopped in the truck with Boone's ashes, Kay wanted to spread them in the same place she had spread Wayne's ashes; after all Boone was really Wayne's dog so it was fitting they be together again. Kay had spread Wayne's ashes in a stream on a WMA north of Helen, Georgia so off we went. 

     Now at this time let me say that my knowledge of a WMA ( wildlife management area ) was that it is a big forest of trees with undergrowth of briars, wild grape vines and a floor of rotting leaves and dead trees, It is occupied by coyotes, raccoons, opossums, deer and bears with an occasional skunk thrown in for good measure. In addition to the wildlife and flora there are the views of endless mountains, hills and valleys of trees reaching to the horizon. To get to all of this there are a network of roads carved into the sides of the hills, some are maintained and easily driven while others are no more than two ruts running parallel to each other. 

     So here we go looking for a stream in the woods north of Helen. When we found the turn off from the highway it wasn't long ( maybe a hundred yards ) till the asphalt ended and the gravel took over, then we came to a stream or small shallow river littered with rocks of all sizes worn smooth after eons of being washed by the waters of the mountain. I thought to myself this was going to be easy, here is the stream just stop and spread Boone's ashes and move on but this was not to be, turns out this portion of water was too frequented by people. The small stream we were looking for was further into the forest so we drove into this small river of cold running water, emerging on the other side I couldn't help thinking how long it had been since the under carriage of the truck had been under water.

     We started up the road as it rose higher into the trees, this was a one lane road with a steep incline climbing higher on one side and an equally steep drop off  falling through the tops of  trees far below on the other side. I kept waiting for us to start our descent down the other side of the mountain so we could find Wayne's stream but we kept going up and up. Every now and then we met a truck or Jeep going the other way both of us would hug the side of the road so we could pass with just inches between us. We kept going up and up, we were several miles from the main road before Kay said, "stop" and there it was not much more than a trickle of water sliding over the rocks of the hillside and running through a culvert in the road on it's continuing path on down the mountain into the valley far below. I watched as Kay carefully emptied Boone's ashes into the water. After a while we got back into the truck and as we continued up the road Kay said, "I hope you can find this place again because if I die before you I want my ashes spread here also". I made her a promise, if I'm not around Clay would fill in for me.

     Never one to like going over the same ground twice, we continued heading up the mountain, as we  closed in on the top the road conditions worsened, the gravel slowly turned to mostly dirt and then there was this huge mudhole filled with water, I hoped it was not too deep. We made it through the mudhole and crested the mountain. The road down the other side was washed away in places, the tires would fall into deep ruts one minute and rise up on a large piece of granite the next. The pace was bumpy and slow, exciting and beautiful , finally we emerged back on the main highway just north of Helen. We probably should not have made this trip in our two wheel drive truck but we did and now we are ready to do it again.

     We rarely miss one of our Sunday drives, once in a while the weather may be too bad and sometimes we hook up the boat and go fishing instead but mostly Sundays are for driving the backroads. One Sunday we wound up in Cherokee, N.C., another time it was Augusta, Ga. and then Lake Jocassee in South Carolina but most of the time it's some two lane road leading to nowhere in particular. I keep thinking we have been on all of the roads in north Georgia and then we find one hidden by a curve or low hanging trees, we even bought a road map that shows the gravel and dirt roads of the WMA's.

     A couple of weeks ago we went for a ride with Doug and Luanne in their new SUV. We headed up past Lake Burton and came out on Hwy 76, Doug asked if we had been to Tate City, we hadn't. After filling up the gas tank we found this little two lane road and started out for Tate City. It wasn't long till we turned off the paved road and struck out on a graveled road into one of the many National Forest. This particular road followed the headwaters of the Tallulah River, it was most of the time narrow, mostly gravel and definitely about 20 degrees cooler than than what we left behind in Statham. We found Tate City, population 32 + or -. There were some really nice summer homes in Tate City, Kay and Luanne got a few pictures and we headed back.

     A few days later, a Sunday, Kay and I decided to go back towards Tate City and take our time exploring the area but this time we found another little known road that took us close to Tate City from a different direction. This road veered off Hwy 76 a little farther west of the Tate City road, it started out as pavement  and a couple of miles later turned into gravel  ( sort of ) and it started going up. There were hairpin turns carved out of the hillside with occasional gullies left over from a previous storm.

     We ran into a group of four wheel Toyotas  who soon disappeared up a path into the trees, we continued on up what we hoped was the main road. The gravel slowly disappeared into the deep ruts of dirt and mud, the rocks so huge and I had to ride up on the side of the dirt curb so  I didn't scrape a hole in the oil pan.  At this point I told Kay I was glad to be going down hill because I didn't think I could make it going up, after all we only had a two wheel drive truck. At one point we found a wide point and stopped so we could dig up some flowers for our yard then we continued our downward trek one hair pinned rut after another and the we came to the river. 

     The Tallulah River at the point was about 25 or 30 yards across and the water being crystal clear made it hard to determine the depth and there appeared to not be a place to drive out on the other side so we stopped to ponder the situation. Turning around and going back may have been doable  but the emphasis was on "may have been"  and the path forward was also precarious looking. As we sat there pondering our next move two women walked out of the water and one of them told us the water was not deep and people drove through it all the time, of course they had four wheel drive trucks and Jeeps. Well it was a case of the good road ahead was within site while the miles of bad road behind us were doubtful so we eased into the water. I took it slow and we still bounced over the abundant small smooth rocks in the stream bottom, water pushed ahead of our bumper as a man standing in the water guided us around some bushes on the bank to the path out of the water, we made it.

     There were a few times that day when Kay was worried about our chances of getting stuck or broke down, there were a few times I was wondering but I stayed confident. We have been thinking about getting a new vehicle and after this trip Kay has decided we need to look at four wheel drive vehicles. Four wheel drive would open up another avenue of adventure for us.

     Our Sunday drives have become a norm for us, we look forward to them. They remind Kay of drives with her family when she was a young girl, they remind me of drives with my grandfather when I was a kid. At this time in our lives anything that invokes happy memories is a good thing.