Americus, Americus

Americus is about 10 miles from Andersonville, the closest thing to a city in just about all directions. It's actually a pretty place that's an architectural gold mine. I finally took the plunge the other day to go to Americus to get a haircut and while there did a little driving around to soak up the atmosphere. (Why take the plunge to get a haircut? I can't say how many times I've gone to a salon, spoken what to me is plain English about what I wanted done, and walked out with something entirely different. Different and wrong. I'd pretty much given up but caught a glimpse of the mop in a mirror and knew I had to act.)

The big hotel in Americus is a Best Western of vintage lineage, built in 1892. While not on the National Register, it is part of the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

It takes up nearly a city block and to my untrained eye has a mishmash of styles (called eclectic by finer minds than mine), but somehow they all seem to fit.

The staff must be used to gawkers because when I asked if I could wander around to take pictures they didn't bat an eye.

The woodwork is beautiful. The posts have delicate carving that you just don't see anymore.

 

 More carving on these posts.

 A part of the frieze on the outside of the building.

But the Windsor is just the start of the wonderful period architecture of Americus. Here's a Carnegie Library from 1908, now a catering company and available to rent for events.

A funeral home. I love eyebrow windows. They're the ones set into the roof on either side of the tower.

 

A classic, so pretty. If there's one must-have in my perfect house, it's a screened porch. Can you imagine sipping mint juleps there? Or just swilling down Margaritas? Yeah, me too. Frozen, with salt, please. This house was built in 1906.

A story-book doll house, built in 1890. The lattice work on the porch is the icing on the cake. It's on the historic homes driving tour, but I couldn't find details on any of the houses online.

The Lee Council House is next, and is available to rent. This is a description from the Americus Times-Recorder, 2007:

Mr. and Mrs. Lee George Council built this large Italianate mansion in 1902, two years after their marriage. The exterior features superb terracotta work, restored balustrade porch, beautiful stained glass window transoms throughout, and inlaid floors. The house is furnished with period antiques. An extraordinary architectural interior feature is the double staircase dominated by a panel of three stained glass panels on the stair landing that overlooks the grand hall.

Mr. and Mrs. Lee George Council of Americus built this large Italianate mansion in 1902, two years after their marriage. The exterior features superb terracotta work, restored balustrade porch, beautiful stained glass window transoms throughout and inlaid floors. The house is furnished with period antiques, and one of a kind items, along with Council family furnishings, memorabilia and a library that includes books by noted Sumter County authors such as President Jimmy Carter and Millard Fuller, founder of Habitat for Humanity International. An extraordinary architectural interior feature is the double staircase dominated by a panel of three stained glass panels on the stair landing that overlooks the grand hall. - See more at: http://www.americustimesrecorder.com/local/x489049444/Christmas-tour-of-historic-homes#sthash.vmx4nSv0.dpuf

Mr. and Mrs. Lee George Council of Americus built this large Italianate mansion in 1902, two years after their marriage. The exterior features superb terracotta work, restored balustrade porch, beautiful stained glass window transoms throughout and inlaid floors. The house is furnished with period antiques, and one of a kind items, along with Council family furnishings, memorabilia and a library that includes books by noted Sumter County authors such as President Jimmy Carter and Millard Fuller, founder of Habitat for Humanity International. An extraordinary architectural interior feature is the double staircase dominated by a panel of three stained glass panels on the stair landing that overlooks the grand hall.
- See more at: http://www.americustimesrecorder.com/local/x489049444/Christmas-tour-of-historic-homes#sthash.vmx4nSv0.dpuf

Back toward downtown and near the Carnegie Library is Americus Presbyterian Church, built in 1884. It was locked so I couldn't go in, but I hope to get in this week. Isn't it lovely?

The Thornton Wheatley Building. This description is also from the Americus Times Recorder, 2009:
Israel Thornton Wheatley, a Pennsylvania transplant who moved to Americus in the early 1850s and fought with the "Sumter Light Guards" throughout the Civil War, was a clothier by trade until his retirement in 1905. In November 1892, he completed on the southwest corner of Forsyth and Windsor what is also known as the Pythian Castle because the third floor was utilized by the Knights of Pythias, a fraternal organization. He had constructed the building adjoining on the west (now Forsyth Bar & Grill) in 1889.

This window is on the second floor of the Thornton Wheatley Building.

I've always admired the optimism of builders/owners who literally cast their names in stone on their buildings. The Byne Block, 1887, beautifully preserved.

This facade is so simple but so appealing. Note the turquoise just peeking out from the white triangles over the windows.

Contrast the above with this dramatic presentation. Very nice.

Here are two final details. Look Better Feel Better is on a defunct barber shop, abandoned with chairs, capes, and tools still in place. 

The filigree circle is not fronting a blue background, as I first thought. The blue is open air behind it.

There's a lot more to discover in Americus. According to Wikipedia, the city center was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1976 as the Americus Historic District. The district boundaries were extended in 1979.

And I got a decent - no, good - haircut for $14. I'm not kidding.

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Thought of the day:

A real building is one on which the eye can light and stay lit. (Ezra Pound)

Wreaths Across America

Today was National Wreaths Across America day, when Christmas wreaths are laid on graves in national cemeteries. I was lucky enough to be spelled in the Visitor Center so I could go to the ceremony. We had a bit of bad news first thing today when we learned that the 250 wreaths that were to be delivered are stuck in Maine or New York or Virginia someplace because of the weather. We somehow had a few on hand, however, so it wasn't a total disaster.

I've seen photos of Arlington on wreath day and it always looked like grave after grave was decorated, but that's Arlington. The smaller, lesser-known national cemeteries don't have the donations that Arlington has, and consequently the number of wreaths is much lower. 

Today the ceremony was carried out by cadets from a local Civil Air Patrol unit. Each one carried a wreath dedicated to a different branch of the military.

The second cadet carries the US and Marine flags on his wreath. Semper fi!!

Families have been allowed to place decorations for the holidays since December 1. I took some time before the ceremony began to look for these individual tributes.

 

Husband and wife are on the same marker, one's name and dates inscribed on the front, the other's on the back. The family brought a wreath for each side.

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The color that breaks up the sea of white, though, only calls attention to the thousands of graves that remain unadorned. A $10 $15 donation to Wreaths Across America will put one on the grave of your choosing next year. Choose one at a small cemetery.

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Thought of the day:

To be killed in war is not the worst that can happen. To be lost is not the worst that can happen... to be forgotten is the worst." -Pierre Claeyssens (1909-2003) - See more at: http://www.wreathsacrossamerica.org/#sthash.u9vfLKyk.dpuf

"To be killed in war is not the worst that can happen. To be lost is not the worst that can happen... to be forgotten is the worst." -Pierre Claeyssens (1909-2003) - See more at: http://www.wreathsacrossamerica.org/#sthash.2Uqomtnb.dpuf

To be killed in war is not the worst that can happen. To be lost is not the worst that can happen... to be forgotten is the worst." -Pierre Claeyssens (1909-2003) - See more at: http://www.wreathsacrossamerica.org/#sthash.u9vfLKyk.dpuf

To be killed in war is not the worst that can happen. To be lost is not the worst... to be forgotten is the worst. (Pierre Claeyssens, 1909-2003)

A thousand little sadnesses

The other day I was walking home from work and out of nowhere came the thought, the happy thought, that I would call Bob. [12/13: I've gotten some questions on this one: did I want to call, did I call? No. Hell, no. What I poorly explained was a thought zipped into my consciousness, unanticipated, undesired, but it was just like the thoughts I used to have when I looked forward to talking to him. As quickly as it came into my head, reality also came to me and the desire was gone. What it amounted to was a sadness that that part of my life is gone.]

I was cleaning out old photos from the computer and stumbled on a cell phone shot from Costco. It was a photo of a label for a sofa that we thought of buying for the loft at the house.

My gmail gigabytes were filling up and I started going through Sent mail until I got into the ones from a little over a year ago. I couldn't look at them one by one and had to just delete everything.

Amazon, for good or ill, remembers everything you ever bought. While looking for something else, I uncovered things I'd bought for our motorhome when we were going to spend last winter in Arizona.

I contacted my oral surgeon to get a summary of charges for this year and her staff included everything for 2012 as well, during months I didn't have a clue what was coming. One date was just before a weekend we spent in Cannon Beach, Oregon with friends.

I see months from last year in the notebook in which I record books I've read, and remember what we were doing and what our plans were. I remember. I also see the months that are empty, when I couldn't concentrate long enough to read a sentence.

My co-volunteer here talks of an upcoming trip to Australia and New Zealand, a reminder that we were to go this past March. All the tickets had been acquired and reservations made, the itinerary complete.

While summarizing copays for my healthcare this year, I saw one to my therapist on March 27, the day I left my house for good.

My telephone's photo roll has screen shots of places we were going to visit on upcoming trips. I haven't been able to pick my way through those yet.

I had to turn off the iPod when the Christmas music I was playing came to one particular song. That one song. He would take me in his arms, dance me around the kitchen, and sing it softly just to me.

I see an Asian woman and my heart turns to ice, to stone. How irrational is that?

I don't go looking for these reminders. I've been trying hard to look forward only, but they appear like knife-edged specters from my past that cut me with a thousand little sadnesses.

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Thought of the day:

I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance. (Beryl Markham - West with the Night)

Shards of color

Some of the most unusual stained glass designs I've seen were at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Springfield, Illinois. I spent a couple of days in Springfield between visiting my kids and my sibs so I could tour Lincoln's tomb, to go to the well-done Lincoln museum and the presidential Library, and found I had some extra time to check out the cathedral. I know the windows are good when I walk in and the first thing I think is, "Wow!" See if you agree.

The simple exterior of the church belies what shines inside.

 

One thing I love about stained glass in churches is their uniqueness. Unless (usually) small churches buy identical windows off the rack, so to speak, I've never seen the same windows from one church to another.

What makes these so wonderful is how they seem made of shards of glass. The angular shape of the pieces is so different from traditional shapes.

The pastel colors are also unusual. There are no pure jewel tones here.

 

A contemporary design like the one below is truly unusual. The National Cathedral in Washington, DC has a window that reminds me of this.

One of my favorite tricks, to get the reflection in a gleaming floor.

Stations of the Cross are also unique from church to church. I've never seen a set repeated elsewhere. This photo doesn't do justice to the gleam on the gold.

Not a Station but another, different style of mosaic. The pieces are much smaller.

Another mosaic.

I've photographed lots of churches over the years and looking up the aisle is one of my favorite shots. This church isn't as spectacular as some from this perspective, but the windows make up for it.

This place was a real treat to discover. I'm always grateful to those parishes and congregations that keep their buildings open.

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Thought of the day:

Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways. (Oscar Wilde)

Callaway Gardens

It must have been in the middle 1980s or so when I first heard of Callaway Gardens in Pine Mountain, Georgia, and it probably was because of an ad in Southern Living magazine. I was living in southeast Texas then with hardly two nickels to rub together, and going there seemed as attainable as going to the moon. Then one day last month I was in the state visitor center in Plains and found a flyer for the Christmas lights at Callaway and almost immediately bought a couple of tickets and made reservations for a ride on the trolley. I was going to the moon.

My friend and I got to the garden well before dark and had time to drive around and see the sights. We got there in time to catch the birds of prey show and it was darn good. The young woman who narrated the show must have done this dozens or scores of times but made it sound like she was giving a talk to friends in her living room. She was a natural. She and another woman brought out four birds for us to see in action.

The first bird was a cute little barred owl, but she assured us that none of the birds we would see that day were of the cute and cuddly nature. 

All of the birds respond to hand signals from the trainers, who kept them flying back and forth, back and forth, over the heads of the people in the audience. More than once I saw wing tips brush through people's hair, the birds were swooping so low.

The second bird was a red-tailed hawk. All of the birds at the center have been "damaged' in some way. Some were picked up and taken away from their natural habitat by well-meaning people who thought the bird was injured and then the bird became imprinted on its new "mother." This red-tailed hawk was hit by a car when it was feeding on something on the side of the road, and was blinded in one eye.

The third bird was a horned owl. The "horns" help the bird to blend into its surroundings in the forest by blurring the outline of its head.

Here's not such a great picture but it shows the owl heading right toward me, just as it left its perch. If I remember correctly, this bird's feet exert a force of 150 pounds per square inch. Imagine being a mouse.

 

The last bird is this beauty and I can't remember what kind it is. David Shaffer, if you're out there, can you identify it for me? This bird actually flew away from the center one day and was gone for a few weeks. They learned it had flown about 25 miles away, into the yard of a man who'd seen the show. He identified the bird as one belonging to Callaway and performed the hand signals toward it after wrapping his forearm in a t-shirt. Sure enough, the bird came to perch on his arm and he was able to keep it safe until someone from the garden could retrieve it. They now put transponders on most of the birds and especially this one.

Next stop was the butterfly center. They grow their own butterflies:

There weren't a lot flitting around, which was something of a disappointment, but it was overcast and that affects butterfly activity. This is all I got.

We also stopped at the Ida Cason Callaway Memorial Chapel and were the only ones there. At one of the gift shops I'd seen a magnet shaped and colored like the window at the chapel and wanted to see it in person. We were the only people there and it was nice to have it to ourselves.

Its design was inspired by 16th century Gothic churches and is built of local materials, including fieldstone quartz. The windows reflect the changing seasons of the surrounding forest and are really lovely.

 

The big attraction, of course, was the Christmas lights and I got not one usable photo. Some of the displays were just stunning, like a long stretch where two curtains of white lights were strung parallel to the road, one curtain behind the other, a pair on each side. The simple design was interspersed with snowflake designs and created depth that didn't seem possible. It started to sprinkle as we boarded the trolley and then it rained in earnest, blowing in on MY side of the seat. I was soaked by the end of the ride but I've also been on walking tours of Christmas lights in really cold climates, so the wet seemed like something of a trade off.

We had a nice time, weather and bad wi-fi at the hotel notwithstanding. I'd love to see the gardens in full bloom and maybe I can if I swing back through the area at the right time of year.

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Thought of the day:

You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down. (Toni Morrison - Song of Solomon)