memories

Auburn / memories / Thursday — Comments Off on My last hours in Auburn
26
May 16

My last hours in Auburn

That sounds melodramatic, I suppose, but it is what it is. I spent two years trying to get here, then five years living here and then nine years missing it and, returning, six more years here. That’s, all told, more than half my life thinking about the place. And, in most ways, that’s unrequited. I don’t really have a lot of other ways to talk about it than that.

And now I’m leaving it. Don’t want to, but there it is. Here we are. Here we go.

So I rode around one last time and took a few pictures of buildings because … I don’t know, but that’s what you do.

My first class was in this building, many years ago, just off to the right. It was an 8 a.m. Monday, Wednesday, Friday class. Animal Dairy Sciences:

Comer Hall, my major lived in there. This is the top of ag hill, and I spent half of my undergraduate career there.

A few more views of Comer:

And this is Duncan Hall. I did my internship there, and worked for another year or so besides. Did some writing, some photography, some online work, some radio editing, some satellite uplinks and so on:

And one of the better oak trees on campus. Always looked like a place to climb or read or kiss.

Tomorrow we sign our papers and drive away, on to the next thing.

Auburn / memories / photo / swimming / Wednesday — Comments Off on To every meal’s seasoning …
27
Apr 16

To every meal’s seasoning …

Jeff Price says the Barbecue House is sold and the College Street landmark will be redeveloped. The oldest restaurant in Auburn, Alabama is going away.

He just lost his mother a few years ago. His parents built the business themselves and for most of his life Mr. Price has had his hands in it as well. You could tell that he was getting ready for a new chapter. He still has his health and his family and more happy customers than he could count. People will miss it, but people will understand. That’s the thing about regulars. The employees see you, but you see them, too. You can count plenty of mornings and lunches that he was there.

When I was in undergrad I’d go there for breakfast. And some days I’d just stay there, skip a class, read the paper and then order lunch. I ate there for five years. But then I moved away. Ten years later, when we moved back, Mr. Price asked if I was visiting or if I was back. He remembered me, just another young regular who used to visit his store a decade prior. That’s kind of the place they’ve made at The Barbecue House. That, and the food, will be missed. We’ll have to eat there a lot in the last few weeks.

Everything changes. Everything has changed. It is all different.

At any rate … Nice 2,500 meter swim today.

It only hurt for most of the time.

friends / memories / photo / Thursday — Comments Off on A 3-year-old’s life
10
Mar 16

A 3-year-old’s life

We got to see Liam today. In a word, he’s healthy.

We were going to dinner with friends one night when The Yankee saw on Facebook that he’d just been diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. His parents had found bruises that they couldn’t explain and so they went to the pediatrician and that doctor wisely sent them to Birmingham and they caught it in a hurry. I walked from the table at the restaurant that night to the restroom and looked up this form of leukemia, marveling at Google’s knowing what I meant, but also at the prognosis. If it was caught quickly, and with the proper care, it was a scary, hard thing, but easily survivable. And Liam’s parents are marvelous, and they’re fortunate to have good health care and he has had some scare times, and some hard years, and he’s spent too much of his early childhood in a car driving to hospitals, getting poked and prodded, wearing masks and helmets and having his social life limited. But the kid is doing great. He’s amazing. He walked in, sat on our sofa and pronounced it “Quite comfortable.” And then he just plays at that high speed that kids continually run in. Liam is healthy.

So this is a good reminder about how easy it is to register for blood marrow donations. You can do the entire effortless, painless registration in less time than it is taking you to read this. Send off for the forms. When they arrive, swab your cheeks, put them in the envelope and drop them in the mail. You’ve joined the national registry; maybe you’ll get the chance to help somebody one day. Find out more here.

In another word, he’s adorable. That kid has style. Completely holds a room with his charm. Though you wish he’d come out of his shell and be a bit more precocious.

friends / memories / photo / Wednesday — Comments Off on This is National FFA Week
24
Feb 16

This is National FFA Week

This is part of how that big, terrific, organization played a huge role in my small story.

The FFA started, for me, in the sixth grade. Some teachers came down from the high school and talked about what they did in the big blue building.

“We don’t build UFOs,” they said, and they explained the wood shop, the greenhouse, the FFA and more. Maybe they talked about the name change. The National FFA Organization had just moved on from the traditional Future Farmers of America name. Changing with the times. As an exurban kid I was as representative of that as anyone. But, on this day, they were on a recruiting trip. Rising seventh graders need electives and I didn’t have any other plans. That’s how it started.

The antics and the class made me sign up again for another class in the eighth grade. (After six years of shop and classroom pranks it is amazing we all made it out with 10 fingers.) I wasn’t very good as a wood worker. I never got much better. I never could draw a very good bead with the arc welder. I can still smell all of those shop smells, even now, but now I know I was gaining something more valuable, for me, than shop skills.

As a rising freshman I went to the state FFA convention in Montgomery. One of our upperclassmen was a state officer and I was in a state championship contest for agricultural mechanics. (Think small engines, plumbing, electricity, all of the things I know better than to mess with today.) After the convention Mr. Caddell said he could see me as a state officer one day. That was a big goal and I liked it.

To get there I’d have to take part in public speaking contests. I was bad, but after three years I started getting better.

My junior year I finally won the county, placed second in the district and made it to the state finals. The experiences along the way — going to conventions for state finals for ag mechanics, forestry and public speaking, chapter and district responsibilities, attending national conventions in Kansas City — all led to an opportunity to run for state office at the end of my junior year.

I was fortunate to get elected and so my senior year was filled with great experiences. I traveled all over the state and much of the southeast. I helped run leadership workshops and delivered speeches to schools and meetings all over Alabama. It allowed me to create a strong extracurricular resume and taught me a great deal. I met amazing people, my college roommate, lifelong friends and others too numerous to detail.

At the end of our year as state officers Jason, Heath, Carla, J.D., Jeremy and I – six kids from all over the state – had a conversation about the end of one chapter being necessary to open the next exciting chapter of life. We were very wise at 18. Today they are business owners and bankers and insurance executives and so on.

The FFA gave us a lot. And we look so young and fresh and cool in our corduroy.

Every couple of years I try it on and this week I was pleased to see that my state officer jacket from mumble-mumble years ago still fits. (Sorta.) (I mean, I can put it on and zip it all the way up.) (That’s what “fits” means, right?) (Who needs to breathe, anyway?)

I had many valuable experiences, and this could go on and on, but the most important thing the FFA gave to me was the leadership of two good men. Mr. Swaffield and Mr. Caddell were battle-tested teachers. They are two solid, stand up, good, decent, morally upright father figures I benefitted from as a teenager, when a boy needs them most.

adventures / history / Instagram / memories / Monday / photo / video — Comments Off on Hanging out at Forsyth Park
4
Jan 16

Hanging out at Forsyth Park

Forsyth Park is full of history. It was created in the 1840s, and was, in a way, an original part of the future plans of Savannah. French and American soldiers camped on the site during the Revolutionary War around bloody fighting in the town. The French started building siege trenches there and, then just two generations later, the Georgia home guard drilled on the park during the Civil War. The town’s Confederate monument is there.

This is where The Yankee I visit every time we come to Savannah. We have a tree. We got engaged there and took some of our wedding portraits there. It is a beautiful place and has a lot of history, and contemporary vitality, too.

At a nearby novelty shop:

Funny t-shirts:

Late, late editions … watch the lights in these Boomerang videos:

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