08102016 by The Best of the North Georgia Mountains

Nothing out of the ordinary for a person with Fannin County roots, but in Joe Cobb’s case, he hasn’t lived in the area in more than 35 years. How does he know his way around so well? Basically, it’s a case where you can take the boy out of Fannin County, but you can’t take Fannin County out of the boy. For proof, look no farther than the books writer Joe Cobb Crawford has set in his home county. They are the compelling evidence of a life-long love affair that began in 1949, near meandering Mill Creek out from Epworth. While he isn’t in the area so much these days, he clearly remembers from whence he came. Dr. Joe Hicks, the Fannin County doctor reputed in the 1940s and ’50s to be deeply involved in a black market baby racket, delivered Carl and Nona Crawford’s youngest child at home, on a Tuesday in November 1949. The delivery, for which a yearling calf was bartered for services rendered, took place down on Mill Creek, only a few hundred yards away from the burbling waters. Joe Cobb later entitled his fifth book Joe Cobb Crawford with his father, Carl. Down on Mill Creek, only to change it to The Lies We Bury. It was under this title that the book was a semi-finalist in the 2016 Georgia Author of the Year competition. His emotional connection with the small stream is understandable when you look at the big picture. The tumbling waters, barely three feet wide in some places, twist and turn and rejuvenate themselves before emptying into Fightingtown Creek, then into the Hiawassee and Ocoee rivers. In much the same way, Joe Cobb’s life has followed a similar circuitous path, but it all began on the family’s 400-acre farm high

“When you battle with your conscience and lose, you win.” - Henny Youngman

stories.” He later re-enrolled in school, only to quit two more times before a diploma was finally placed in his hand. The first time he abandoned school was so he could see America from the cab of an 18-wheeler. Fear was his impetus the last time. He’d been selected to make a speech at his Senior High School Prom, and when he couldn’t evade the fearsome obligation, he dropped out and escaped to Florida. Eventually he did return, and that’s a good thing. Otherwise, he and wife Susan, also a Fannin County native, who recently celebrated their 49th anniversary, might never have married. He would indeed graduate high school, go on to successfully earn a master of science degree in engineering, and become a licensed professional engineer. However, even he couldn’t have foreseen during those tumultuous growing up years, just

how convoluted his life would be. As for writing books, if the West Fannin High School yearbook had included a category for “Least Likely to Write a Book,” there’s a good chance Joe Cobb Crawford’s picture would have been there. As he points out, his track record of preparation for penning a book wasn’t very impressive. Ironic, perhaps, but definitely not impressive. In the third grade, when he was seven, his first failing grade was a “D” in writing. He failed the eighth grade because of poor attendance, and as a high school sophomore, he netted a solid “F” on a poem assigned in his literature class. (That poem, by the way, is included in Joe’s last book, The Lies We Bury.) To complete his academic career, he failed Senior English, but a kindhearted teacher took pity and gave him the half point he needed to graduate. Before beginning college, he had to take

remedial English, and although he hasn’t diagrammed a single sentence since, he says, “I could if I had to.” One impetus that drove Joe to succeed was his status as a “married man” while still in high school. He was 17, Susan was 15, when they ventured across the state line to Murphy, North Carolina on August 7, 1967 to get married. The two had met at a party, dated, broke up, got back together, broke up again, and finally decided to make it legal and permanent. Joe borrowed $2 for the license from his soon-to-be mother-in-law, along with the temporary use of her wedding ring, and he and Susan were soon Mr. and Mrs. Joe Cobb Crawford. Two children, a son and a daughter, and three grandchildren have come along in the years since. As best Joe can tell, none of them are overly impressed with the fruits of his “Career Detour,” as he has labeled his

“Money won’t make you happy … but everybody wants to find out for themselves.” - Zig Ziglar

foray into writing. He notes that he recently found his latest book in his son’s bathroom, beneath another book entitled The World’s Best Bathroom Book. Susan, on the other hand, has been a little more direct with her assessment: “Your hobby has gotten out of hand.” His siblings, some of whom still live in Fannin County, have had little to say about his late-in-life career and have been reluctant to purchase his last book. His older sister, Doris, has advised, “Give him some time. He’ll get over this. It’s just a phase he’s going through.” The response from his former chickencatcher buddies has been somewhat different. After reading The Poetry Company, Joe’s first book about his chicken-catching days, “T-Bone” Watkins, one of those featured in the book, said, “The book was over 95 percent accurate. But you left out too many characters (other catcher buddies).” So why did the electrical engineer and owner of his own consulting firm take that

career detour? His answer to this question is also found in Chapter One of his sixth book, Self-Publishing a Book: A Cautionary Tale, now under construction. An assignment by brother Jim that each member should write a story about something they remembered from life on the farm for a family reunion planted the seed. Joe’s “Dog Gone Hogs” that included some of his chicken-catcher buddies, was well received. “I wowed them,” Joe says. One sibling, echoing what Susan had advised him many times, said, “You should write a book.” Which brings Joe to the second reason he temporarily abandoned electricity for word-crafting. “Susan never totally understood my behavior,” he explains. “She never once suspected that the strange comments I sometimes made had their origin in my youth. When I’d echo a harsh, uncouth, or even a vulgar comment that a character from my youth had made, she would often say, ‘I don’t want to know what

your “chicken-catcher buddies” said, and I don’t appreciate that foul language you’re using. Why don’t you go write a book about your stupid “chicken-catcher buddies”?’” As a creature of habit, Joe says, “I didn’t take her advice. At least not at first.” His career detour was originally intended to last only as long as it took to write one book, his memoir. At first he continued working his day job and wrote in his spare time. But the swap was easier than he’d imagined. While he had experience writing technical reports and a few published technical papers, transitioning to creative writing was a bit harder. He laughs, as he remembers his early efforts that took on the style of a telegraphed news report. “Short sentences, no adverbs, and just the facts. Thanks to daily practice, my craft and my art improved.” He identifies with a remark attributed to the late Maya Angelou: “Easy reading is damn hard work for the writer.”

And reading, once so difficult for him in school, has become easy and pleasurable, all thanks to practice. “Learn to read and then read to learn,” grammar school teachers stress. “Reading is a journey, not a destination.” From his home base in Toccoa, Joe recalls in detail the trip to Waveland, Mississippi his church, First Baptist Toccoa, made following Hurricane Katrina. It gave him intense pleasure. The memory of a shrimp of a kid he punched out in eighth grade, over a kiss stolen from Joe’s then sweetheart, is a regret he still carries. If he could, he’d re-do his fourth book, What the Bookman Saw. “Seems the only people who thought it was comical was me and one publisher.” But he’s sure he could make readers laugh with a second chance! When Joe was growing up down on Mill Creek, if he missed the bus, he had to walk into Epworth to school. And to

this day, his first memory of that era was the day older brother Jim abandoned him at a fork in the unpaved dirt road near their house. A large black snake confronted him, and one barefooted little boy was forced to run for safety, chased by the serpent. It’s been a while since Joe Cobb Crawford ran away from the snake and later from home in order to finish high school and graduate. But through the pages of The Poetry Company, Mountain Shadow Memories, When the Chickens Come Home to Roost, and The Lies We Bury, he lives vicariously where his roots lie. Joe Cobb Crawford inhabits the best of two worlds, with one foot in Fannin County, the other in Stephens County, writing in one world, all about the other world. To learn more about him and his Fannin County roots, check out www. ThePoetryCompany.com.

Fannin County native and author Joe Cobb Crawford at a book signing. The people who come to such events were the inspiration for one of the stories contained in his fourth book, What The Bookman Saw. Readers panned the book.

“People who fly into a rage always make a bad landing.” - Will Rogers

first grade class on a two-week trial basis and if she can hold her own, she can stay. If not, we’ll put her back in the pre-first class.” Needless to say, Tonya more than held her own. “Robin Greeson (now in the office at Calhoun Middle School) was one of the students in Tanya Johnson’s first-grade class, and she can remember Ms. Johnson preparing them for me to come into their classroom,” Tonya said. “Tanya was a wonderful teacher – she taught me to count on my toes. She was very creative and very good, so I did just fine and never looked back.” The whole pre-first/first grade experience actually helped mold her into the caring educator she became, though. “It was a stereotype,” Tonya said. “You know, he looks normal, you don’t, so you’re going here and he’s going there.” Residents of Calhoun soon learned that nothing would keep Tonya from doing something she wanted to do, including tee-ball, soccer, and cheerleading. In fact, she eventually became captain of the cheerleading squad her senior year at Calhoun High, a position she went on to hold at Shorter College, too, where she and current Calhoun City Schools Superintendent Michele Taylor were also classmates. “At first when I graduated from Shorter, I thought I didn’t want to go back to Calhoun, I wanted to stay in Rome because a lot of my friends were there,” Tonya said. “I would go for job interviews and people that didn’t know me would be just taken aback when I walked in and they would say, ‘Can you sign this?’ trying to treat me like… I was thinking, really? I mean I did just graduate from college … and I did just finish student teaching.” Fortunately for Calhoun students, Tonya decided to come back home, where Calhoun Middle School Principal Brenda Erwin knew her and her abilities and was proud to have her join the teaching staff. Tonya wound up teaching in the classroom for 10 years, even earn-

Tonya with her uncle, Gordon County Sheriff Mitch Ralston. “I’ve been on a calendar, but never on time.” – Marilyn Monroe

“Yeah, kids are going to make fun of kids they are - but you’ve just got to be taught how to deal with it because it’s going to happen. You can’t hide. Because kids get made fun of whether they’re skinny, whether they’re fat, whether their hair is long, whether it’s short, you know, whether they stutter, whether they wear glasses, it doesn’t matter. I’ll pray for you, that’s what I tell them. You don’t know better, you’re uneducated. We’ve got to educate people. They’re always going to be that way if they’re not educated. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do to educate them.”

Focusing on family For now, though, Tonya is focusing on being a full-time mother and wife. “Right now I’m just taking care of home and family and just enjoying no stress so I don’t hurt,” she said. “And if I do hurt, I can just sit down and I don’t have to do anything. And there’s days when that’s what I do, I sit right there on the couch because that’s what my

body needs for me to do.” She takes a moment to reflect on her 25½ years of being an educator and smiles, thinking about a sign that hangs over secretary Robin Greeson’s desk at the middle school. “They don’t care how much you know till they know how much you care,” it says. “You’ve got to win kids over that way,” Tonya says. “They’ve got to know that I’m a person, I’m on their level, I’m not trying to be their superior, I’m not trying to judge, I see them for who they are, and we’re all human. Then once you get them comfortable with that, then they’ll listen and then they’ll want to do what you say, they’ll want to please. “You’d be amazed – and I’m talking big boys, who can be mean and some people are even scared of them,” she said. “But they don’t scare me because they respect me and I’m on their level and I’m talking to them like a human, so like I say, they don’t care how much you know till they know how much you care. I try to tell them, if I can, you can, too.” The message has stuck with countless students.

“One day we were at the gym and there was a young man sitting there and his daughter was in there taking gymnastics. He goes, I bet you don't remember me. And he told me his name. He said, I do remember your Eye Can, and that's one thing I don't let my kids do is tell me they can't.” “Different people through the years have also told me, I remember your Eye Can. That really stuck with them, and so for that I'm very grateful because I feel like God put me on this earth for a reason.” What happened? Kids especially wonder about Tonya’s lack of arms, including one this summer at one of Abby Kate’s cheerleading competitions in Florida. “We were at the beach and we were sitting in the hot tub and there was some little kid who asked me, well, what happened? I said, I was born that way. And they're like, why? Typically, the majority of the time, I say that's the way God made me. He made me special. That's the way He wanted me to be. And then they're like, oh, OK. And they're really content with that. I truly believe that God put me on this

“I cook with wine, sometimes I even add it to the food.” – W.C. Fields

The author took this photo standing on her porch as mama bear came out of her rose garden. “She had her triplets with her, but I could never get a really good picture of them,” Kathi says. I see the young woman who I suppose is a working mom. It Kathi Harper Hill looks as though she is meeting is the author of six her Mother and small daughter published books that for lunch. She is dressed in a can be purchased lonice dress and heels. Makeup cally, on the Internet at is done conservatively. But honey, let me tell you! www.kathi-harper-hill. She has some BIG hair going blogspot.com or by on. Remember the ’80s? Ain’t contacting her at 706got nothing on her. And I doubt 276-4675. she was born then. I see an elderly woman walk down the sidewalk in hot pink. Her tee-shirt and cap match. She is carrying a small dog and a newspaper. It’s about all she can do, and I wonder why in the world the dog is being carried. He has a halter and leash on. There’s a group of people who are taking pictures of the buildings, posing in front of them. Obviously, they ain’t from around here. A man sitting alone at a table absently eats his lunch while he scribbles on some kind of electronic pad. He smiles and speaks to me, and he does look familiar...but I never figure it out. Studying is like student and dying put together.

I see a woman across the way with her husband and grandbaby. small it is now the table I use at my bedside, covered in a tableShe used to work for me, years ago. But the place is so crowded cloth to hide its condition. I looked pleased as punch; he looks horribly hung over. I don’t make the effort. I see a church friend at the tables outside, The kitchen in the house I finished being raised in was in the and we do speak. It’s pleasant. The waitresses all know us because we are reguhouse my father’s parents moved from at retirement. lars, and they even know what we are going to order. That’s fun. It was an odd-shaped room, because part of it had been partitioned off to carve out a bathroom. There was a transom window Makes one feel like a celebrity! I talk to a few people I know, and sometimes when I’m there I above the refrigerator, which sat in a little cubby by itself. There talk to people I don’t know, for whatever reasons a conversation is was a full size window to the side of the sink, looking out into the struck. backyard. The cabinets, what there was of them, were a misIt’s nice to see downtown so busy, nice to see a slice of America matched bunch of vagrants. The first kitchen I had as a married “woman” (I use that word without hearing about politics, nice to be with my daughter and enjoy really good food. loosely, I was 18) wasn’t really a kitchen, just part of the living However, it seems to me that many memories of my childhood room. The sink and the refrigerator were on the closed in back porch. It was a hoot having to tote dirty dishes from our table to - and perhaps yours - are somehow wrapped up in food and the the back porch to wash them. place where it was cooked. My great-grandmother’s kitchen was a big sunny place. The window over the sink looked out over a pasture, a creek, and then the woods, climbing up the mountain. It was dominated by a huge wood cook stove, which she used to cook wonderful meals all her life. Papa finally purchased an electric stove, but she didn’t much like it. She did cook on it in the summer when it got so hot no one could stand the heat coming from that behemoth in “I designed this kitchen, and I love it,” the author says. the corner. I’ve tried to recall the kitchen I’m in kitchen number nine of my adult life. I hope it’s the last in the house we lived in until I was 7. All I really remember is that you walked through it to get to the really cool screened-in back one. I designed this kitchen, and I love it. I have been able to upporch that looked out over the top of the back of my grandfather’s grade over the years, to make it more like I wanted it to start with, grocery store. 29 years ago. Mother ironed out there in the summer while I played with all my It’s just the right width, long with a big bay window to tuck the toys, never worrying about making a mess. kitchen table in, so we can watch all the wildlife goings on every When it rained my parents had to put buckets and pans out day. Many a meal has been stopped to do just that. I have a walkin pantry that I love. everywhere because the roof leaked like a sieve. I recall squinting my eyes and looking at the single light bulb that hung from But the thing I love the most is it is filled with family, good times, the ceiling, and how dreamy it looked as water gathered and then and lots of love. It even gets cooked in sometimes! dripped from the fixture the bulb sat in. Y’all will have to come sit a spell at the table. I’ll feed you someThere is a picture taken in that kitchen that I’ve seen more than thing. We might even see a bear in the rose garden. once. It’s of me in my Easter finery standing in front of my daddy, who is sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. That table is so It happens.

I don’t want to brag or make anyone jealous, but I can still fit into the earrings I wore in high school.

“Never give up on a dream just because of the time it will take to accomplish it. The time will pass anyway.” – Earl Nightingale

two more bedrooms. My sisenough to support our weight. ter Paulette got the east side room, and I got the one on the The first vine we tried west. Patsy got the downdidn’t support us, and we stairs bedroom all to herself. plummeted to the earth. This was the arrangement The other one was much until Mother moved Chuck in older and stronger and with me. I can’t remember easily handled our weight. when as my mind has a way The only problem was it of erasing bad memories. would only swing a short Initially I didn’t like the idea as distance. I was the oldest, but the girls We decided to cut got their own rooms. the vine loose close to the ground. Over the But as time went by, I adjusted to the situation. I years the vine had atremember when he was old tached itself to the top of a tall poplar tree next to enough to go to school, he always asked me to tell him the spring. Our solution worked, and we could a bedtime story. He loved easily run down the steep stories about horses, espeside of the mountain and cially ponies. I’d make up one swing out about 20 feet quick, short story, and he’d be sound asleep. over the water of the small All through my high school stream. Raland Patterson stands behind his parents, Edd and Louise Patterson, years, Chuck and I looked At the peak we were with sisters Patsy (right) and Paulette and little brother Chuck. almost 25 feet above the forward to the first of April as ground. The vine would it was the first day of trout season. Daddy always made time to take us fishing, and we would fish make a semi-circle and return us to the steep bank about 15 feet to the left of the tree. Over the summer months we spent hours flying just like about every trout stream in the county. We all loved the Toccoa River the best. As I remember, eight trout Tarzan. Like all good things, it soon came to an end. One Saturday Mother was the limit at that time. Our rule was that as soon as one of us and Daddy went back to the old home place, and they took Chuck with reached the limit, we’d all go home. At first that was always Daddy; however, a few years later it began to them. Apparently they walked the old path to the spring where Mother had always gotten water. be Chuck who hit the limit first. Boy, did he love to fish. My little brother just couldn’t help himself. He ran quickly ahead of We had the same rules later when I’d take my son fishing with us, but them and latched onto that grapevine. I wasn’t there, but I reaped the Chuck was still always the winner. results when they saw their baby boy swinging recklessly about 20 feet Another memory of my little brother was his giving me the surprise of in the air above the bed of the stream. my life when I went off to college. I came home for the weekend, and At 14, it had been a while since Mother had sent me to get a hickory Chuck had painted our room black! switch, but when they got home, even though I had no idea why, I knew When I asked why on earth he’d done that, he calmly told me he slept the expression on her face. I was thinking that’s what she was going to better in a dark room. I certainly couldn’t argue with that logic. say, but she surprised me. She took a deep breath and told me to go cut down that vine before As boys, my friends and I learned early to get out of the house and stay out until supper time. The biggest mistake you could make was to suppertime. I whirled around and headed to the stream to cut that vine. tell your Mother you were bored. I did the deed, but it was months before my friends forgave me. When The words would no more than leave your lips before you’d be hoeing I got older and was in the Army I got up enough nerve to ask Mother why corn, cutting weeds, or splitting stove wood. I had to cut down that vine. The best solution was exactly what the old saying says – out of sight, She laughed and told me the entire story. It’s funny how things in your out of mind. We would meet up at the haystacks at the end of our past that scared you to death are funny now. meadow. Chuck grew up and took over the farm. For years he raised horses One day after we’d seen Tarzan on our black and white televisions, and ponies. When I think about it, the bedtime stories I made up to we got the bright idea to swing on grapevines. We knew of two on the soothe him are the reason I began telling stories, and now that I’m an farm near the spring at our old house place that would be just thick old man I just put those stories on paper.

Of course I talk to myself. Sometimes I need expert advice.

THE SUMMER OF DOG HAIR Summer is nearing an end, and I have spent a lot of time outdoors in the heat caring for animals and plants. I know I talk a lot about my animals, and I don’t mind admitting I love talking about my animals! I could write for hours on end about the entertainment I get from my goats, chickens, ducks and my dogs. Especially, my Great Pyrenees that seem to be one of my favorite picture-taking subjects. Bless their hearts, they are so used to seeing me with a camera against my face that they just stop and pose, because they know I’m going to follow them around until they let me get that picture. Speaking of our Great Pyrenees, the worst part of this summer has been their constant shedding. They shed so much that I sweep up a small dog-sized clump of hair on a daily basis. No matter how much I brush them they just keep shedding. I’ve heard of some pyr owners using the undercoat to weave into fiber for scarves and hats. I’m over the top with my animals, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get that crazy about my dogs. Although it would be nice to classify them as fiber livestock. Maybe there could be a tax break. Even though they shed and

Who? Me???

Good idea: Decorate your bedroom to look like a classroom so you can fall asleep faster.

cause me to spend more time cleaning than I want to, I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Right now, we have a lot of little pyrs running around with our new litter of puppies, and holding one of those precious bundles of fur in my arms makes me forget about all that shedding dog hair. It’s been really hot and dry this summer, and we have experienced some drought conditions. With that, it’s been important to have a lot of water around for the animals. The ducks and the dogs have enjoyed the little kiddy pools. I fill them up while they stand back eagerly waiting, and within minutes that clear,

clean water is a muddy, mucky brown. They don’t seem to mind - it’s still fun. I stand outside and beg the dogs not to drink it, and they lap it up like it’s some magical elixir. My garden has really struggled this year, and it’s been difficult to get a good yield from my plants. Of course, now that our family has downsized considerably in the last couple of years, we don’t need as much from the plants. I’ve done everything I could this year to get my veggies to grow - minus rain dances under the full moon. Otherwise, I have watered and fertilized and babied all my plants, but they just didn’t want to do any better than they did this year. I did get a lot of basil, but you can’t live on love or basil alone. The chickens are getting older, and I didn’t hatch any eggs this spring. I will have to get a new batch of chicks

Expires Oct. 31, 2016

Those who say “There is no such thing as a stupid question” have never worked in Customer Service.

hatched for the spring next year. I’m thinking of just hatching one breed of chickens instead of my rainbow mix of different breeds. I started out with a variety pack of chicks because I didn’t know enough to be selective. Now that I’ve got a few years under my belt, I think I know which breeds I prefer over others. I have to decide which breed I want to keep before I order chicks and hatching eggs in the spring. My older hens have definitely gone on strike this summer, and egg production has been low. If you have noticed a woman at the grocery sneaking storebought eggs into her cart with a look of shame on her face, yes, that was me! I told the hens that it costs more to feed them than to buy a dozen eggs these days, so they better get busy or I’m going to start charging them rent. I haven’t told my husband yet, but I’ve been thinking a lot about getting a dairy cow. It would be nice to have our own fresh milk and butter. I am not sure how he would feel about me having a cow. I know the first thing in his mind is how I will want to keep warm and cool off this large animal during the winter and summer. He will be thinking about all the worry and nagging I will be whining about than having the cow itself. I’m still thinking about it and he won’t hear about it until he reads this or I find a way to mention it over a nice juicy steak! You have to have goals so this is a great goal to consider for spring, especially if it’s a calf and I can get it into my car and just show up at home with it. It’s time to start letting my goats help me clean up the garden beds, and this is one of their favorite times of the year. However, they have to be supervised, or they will not only eat all the debris from the gardens they will eat their favorites too like my roses! I finally have my roses growing nice and bushy again after last year’s accidental visit to my garden, where they had a rose eating party. I love having my own clean-up crew.

It’s also time to plant my fall vegetables in my beds. I have been spending time getting them ready with lots of great compost from the animal house. It’s probably odd that I get excited about gathering poop-filled hay to make compost. I hope that I have better luck with my yield in the fall than I did in the peak of summer. I love planting all the leafy greens we enjoy eating. Collards, spinach, and lettuce. They grow so well in the cooler temperatures. Even though it’s been hot and dry, summer has been fun for us here on our little farm. I will admit that I am looking forward to the fall. It’s my favorite time of the year. I know the goats, chickens, ducks and dogs are looking forward to cooler temperatures. More than anything I am looking forward to the Great Pyrenees starting winter coats and all the shedding to end. It’s been the summer of dog hair at our house.

I don’t need your attitude. I have one of my own.

Historic Chatsworth hotel has the

WRIGHT STUFF When the Wright Hotel opened in downtown Chatsworth in 1909, it would easily have earned a five-star rating, had such a designation existed in that day. Despite the lack of indoor bathrooms and running water, a climate-controlled environment, Internet connections or even the convenience of phones in the rooms, and forget about an on-line reservation system, it was still a much-desired destination. Despite those missing attributes by which most of today’s travelers measure lodging comfort and convenience, the Wright Hotel, just two blocks northeast of the Murray County Courthouse, was a mainstay in the downtown for almost 60 years. In its new persona as a property of the Whitfield-Murray Historical Society, that’s also listed on the National Register of Historical Places, people are still coming. Only now they come to tour the 107-year-old hotel that has been somewhat frozen in time. Chatsworth was founded in 1905 as a depot on the Louisville & Nashville Railroad. It was incorporated as a town in 1906, and in 1913, the seat of Murray County was moved to Chatsworth from Spring Place three miles away. It was the burgeoning growth of the new town that inspired Thomas Monroe Wright to envision a large hostelry providing spa-like accommodations. Visitors who came to drink the mineral spring waters and to relax in the cool mountain

By John Shivers

The center hallway in the Wright Hotel was where guests registered and the dining room and front parlor opened off this hall. The door in the far end of the hall became the main entrance after the renovation in the 1920s. (Photo courtesy Whitfield-Murray Historical Society – Wright Hotel Collection)

“If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, then you are a leader.” – John Q. Adams

breezes needed a place to In the meantime, he rented the Chatsworth sleep. That his hotel would Brick Plant, and for a also provide quality home year they produced cooking was simply an extra the soft, rose-hued plus for those who gathered bricks that form both daily in the large dining the 10-foot underroom on the main level. Many guests in the early ground foundations years of operation were and the exterior walls drummers – we’d call them of the mansion-like traveling salesmen today. structure. They traveled from town to In 1909, once the town on the trains, and in structure was comeach town they drummed up plete, visitors began business. to arrive at 201 East Market Street. A The L & N Railroad Depot reputation was slowly was originally located about The Wright Hotel has occupied this corner in downtown Chatsworth for two blocks east of the hotel. more than 100 years. It remains preserved much as it was when it opened established. The guest In 1989, the structure was in 1909, although modern conveniences were added a few years later. rooms featured the best accommodaabandoned by the railroad, (Photo by John Shivers) subsequently purchased for tions the still-new 20th one dollar by the Whitfield-Murray Historical Society, and the struc- century allowed. Wide verandas wrapped around all four sides ture itself was relocated to a lot adjacent to the hotel property. on both the ground floor and second floor levels, a great place to Many of the guests who stayed at the Wright arrived in town catch cool breezes on hot summer days, and eye-candy views of by train and departed the same way. It’s reported that President Franklin Roosevelt once spent the night in his private car on the rail siding at the depot, en route to Warm Springs. Prior to his transformation to innkeeper, Mr. Wright was a farmer in south Murray County. Once he determined to build the 18-room, three-story brick hotel, he cut the heart-pine timber from his farm and allowed it to cure for a year.

The south façade of the Wright Hotel under construction. (Photo courtesy Whitfield-Murray Historical Society – Wright Hotel Collection)

This early Chatsworth photo was taken from east of the downtown area, with the Wright Hotel clearly showing on the right. The roof overhang of the L & N Railroad Depot is in the upper left corner of the picture. In the beginning, most of the hotel’s guests arrived by train. (Photo courtesy Whitfield-Murray Historical Society – Wright Hotel Collection)

Q. Why did the sun refuse to go to college? A. It already had a million degrees.

Fort Mountain and the surrounding countryside. On many warm nights, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s said that cots lined the porches so that guests could rest more comfortably. Perhaps one of the biggest attractions was the generous and tasty meals offered three times a day to guests and, in later years, to the local community as well. The kitchen was under the direction of Laura Wright, and the meals were served family-style. A pass-through between the spacious dining room and the kitchen was constructed in what appears at first glance to be a built-in china cabinet. This little feature allowed for easy replenishment of empty dishes of black-eyed peas and fried okra and fried corn off the cob and other The Murray County Courthouse on the southern hill southwest of the hotel also created homeguests who needed overnight lodging. cooked Taken from the second floor porch, the delicacies. view today includes utility lines that The dining werenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t there when those first guests room was took lodging at the Wright Hotel. (Photo a separate by John Shivers)

Q. Who is the king of the classroom? A. The ruler

Guests are long gone from the Wright Hotel, but the rock that anchored the mail is still there. (Photo by John Shivers)

room, later opened up to connect with the front parlor by individuals who leased the hotel for a restaurant operation. While guests in the beginning tended to be travelers from both north and south, mostly tourists, they tended to remain for extended stays, as opposed to stopping to spend the night, then moving on the next morning. Transportation was limited, roads weren’t the best, and it was a more relaxed time. The Wright Hotel became known as a honeymoon destination, and many Georgia VIPs, among them former Governor Hoke Smith, a close, personal friend of the Wrights, and Congressman Gordon Lee of Chickamauga signed the big ledger books to register their presence. Big businessmen, state leaders and others with claim to fame used the Wright Ho-

Above, Kate Wright Raine shows the rock that weighted down guests’ mail. (Photo courtesy Whitfield-Murray Historical Society – Wright Hotel Collection) tel as their base when in the area. But they weren’t the only guests. Down through the years, judges, politicians and even school teachers stayed under the Wright Hotel roof, along with traveling thespian groups and newcomers to town. And as always, there was the Wright family itself. Mr. and Mrs. Wright were parents to Jesse, Obb, Essie, Kate, Jennie May, J.L., and Glenn. The children’s area consisted of four rooms tucked under the steep-pitched roof that comprised the third floor. Mr. and Mrs. Wright occupied a large bedroom on the southwest corner of the second floor. The adjacent bathroom contains an extra-long claw foot bathtub that more comfortably accommodated Mr. Wright’s tall frame. Shortly before his death, however, the tub served another purpose

when he was baptized there, following a deathbed conversion to Christianity. When the county seat was relocated to Chatsworth a few years after the initial opening, the hotel picked up another demographic group of guests. It was a kinder, gentler time, and in addition to often housing jurors summoned to town for court, it also wasn’t unheard of to have the judge, and possibly the attorneys from either one or both sides staying only feet from each other and sitting down to dinner together. Because hotel stays tended to be several days in length, it wasn’t uncommon for guests to receive mail. Unlike many hotels, the Wright establishment didn’t feature a large and ornate registration desk and cubbyholes for mail. Instead, guest mail was laid atop the flat newel post at the bottom of the stairs in the

Q. Why couldn’t the music teacher open his classroom? A. His keys were on the piano.

main hall. Guests thumbed through to find out if there was anything for them, and privacy laws were unheard of. To keep the mail from falling off or flying off, a small, dark stone was laid atop the letters to weight them down. In the beginning, the main entrance to the hotel was through a doorway in the west wall, which opened into a short hallway that intersected a main north-south wide hallway, which is where the modest registration desk was located. In the early 1920s, in order to keep up with the times and ensure their guests’ continued comfort, closets were built, indoor plumbing and steam heat came into place, and electricity replaced oil lamps. While a couple of the rooms had private baths, the majority of the three-piece baths, each with claw foot tubs, were carved out of adjoining corners of the guest rooms, and one bath served two rooms. The origi-

nal entrance hall became a bathroom, and the south doorway became the main entrance. It was still five-star all the way! But times change, and change isn’t always pleasant or easy. Mr. Wright died in 1925 and Mrs. Wright continued to operate the hotel until her death in 1948. From then until the mid-1960s, the property was leased to outsiders. In the late 1960s, the Wrights’ fourth child, Kate Wright Raine, who worked many years as a U.S. Public Health nurse on Indian reservations in the west, retired and returned to Chatsworth. While she continued to offer rooms when needed, mostly to teachers come to town to teach who had no immediate place to live, for the most part, she made the hotel her private residence. What she did do, however, was to maintain the property thus preserving much of its architectural and historical integrity. Upon Kate Raine’s death 30 years ago

in 1986, the property was left to the care of the Whitfield-Murray Historical Society. She also left a sum of money to underwrite upkeep of the property and stipulated that a committee should be formed to keep the property safe. Dale Lowman, current president of the Wright Hotel Committee, lived directly across the street for several years when Kate Raine was still alive. He used to come over and sit with Miss Kate in the evenings and be regaled with stories from her seemingly bottomless repertoire of stories. Such as the time the circus came to town when she was a girl living at the hotel. They set up in the lot where the Murray County Courthouse stands today. Alfred Phillips of Chatsworth was hired to take the elephants to the city well at the southwest corner of the hotel for water. She remembered Mr. Phillips being killed when one of the elephants stepped on him.

Q. Why did the students eat their homework? A. Teacher said it was a piece of cake.

Today, the hotel stands as a monument to the past and is a key component of Chatsworth history. While there are many pieces and artifacts inherent to the Wright family still contained in the high-ceilinged three-floor structure, other period pieces were acquired by gift and donation from various individuals. No one gets mail on the newel post any longer, although the rock is still there. Overnight guests are a thing of the past. Early last year, a paranormal crew surveyed the property with their high-tech equipment. Nothing conclusive was found. A few months later, following the release of a book about a high profile murder and subsequent trial held in the Murray County Courthouse, a second scan showed higher degrees of activity. Members

of the jury and others connected with the case stayed at the hotel during that trial. Any connection? You decide. Today, guests from all over come to tour the hotel. They hail from Chatsworth proper and from points across the globe. The property is open on the second Saturdays of May through September from noon to 5 p.m., and during the town’s Black Bear Festival on the third weekend of October. Admission is free on these days, and the adjacent historic depot can also be toured as well. The hotel is open for tours at other times by appointment only, and a nominal fee is charged. Tim Howard, a life-long Murray Countian, who also wears the county historian’s hat and serves on the hotel committee, says he thinks the hotel still draws guests because it is so unique. “Among all the historic attractions in North Georgia, where else can you step back in time and see an early 20th century, smalltown hotel like the ones our grandparents stayed in?” You still can’t make on-line reservations to stay at the hotel, and it’s been a long time since meals have been served in the dining room. You can, however, still visit the hotel and marvel at the stamina of people who routinely climbed almost two dozen stairs between each floor, and thought nothing about it. The hotel has a long history of true hospitality, and it’s still alive and well today. Visit and discover it for yourself.

Some mighty good eating was enjoyed by Wright Hotel guests in this dining room. (Photo courtesy Whitfield-Murray Historical Society – Wright Hotel Collection) Q. Why did the clock go to the principal’s office? A. For tocking too much.

‘Milking’ memories for all they’re worth We sure had some fun times out at the farm When you begin traveling down memory lane, more and more stories come to mind. So if you will stay with me, I will involve you in more events happening at my grandfather’s farm in Epworth, Georgia, which is north of Blue Ridge. This time, stories will be about things that happened and not about farm procedures of the past and characters living on the farm. One of my special childhood memories when I was 10 or more was with my uncle. On the farm were several cows which they

My uncle had an outgoing personality, and the clerks and customers were always talking and laughing with him while I enjoyed my treat. Now, I know you are wondering by now, but there was no such thing in that day as pasteurizing, homogenizing, and all that fancy stuff of today! Just good, clean milk delivered by a country loving little girl. Other animals they had were their dogs. One old dog was named Jack. He could be told by Pawpaw to go to the pasture and bring back Ole Red, the cow. He knew exactly which cow she was. He would send him to the pasture if his call of “Come on cowwwws” failed. Now, Jack was afraid of storms. Being always an outside dog, he was allowed to come in on the screened-in porch or even in the house during a thunderstorm. You always knew when the storm was over, for he would go to the door and you would let him out. You were always certain when the storm was beginning, for he was at the door just in time. Jack was attached to my daddy, and one day he followed him home. He did not follow behind the car, but cut through the woods, through Epworth, across the Blue Ridge Highway and came out at our house.

By Patricia Holden Kovsky-Dotson milked, then bottled it and delivered to people in town. It was during World War II and the TVA was building dams in our area, and trailer parks shot up everywhere. This was our market for the milk. When I was out of school in the summer, I would help my uncle deliver milk to each trailer customer. I can remember hopping out of the truck and putting their allotted milk on the porch and picking up the empty bottles for refill. Yes, we had then to wash, sterilize, fill and paper cap the bottles of milk for next time. After the morning deliveries, we would take some to Panter’s Market in town, and that is where we got our cold drinks or ice cream.

Now, don’t ask me how he knew where we lived for he had never seen our house before. Do you think he recognized the car, or was it just his sense of direction??? Sometime along the way they built concrete picnic tables out under the grove of trees. I remember they used concrete blocks for the legs holding the concrete top. Also, somebody built a concrete block outside cooking grill. This set the ball rolling, and my daddy grilled chickens and other things on this. What an event for a kid to enjoy. Pawpaw brought to Epworth his middle Georgia love for barbecue. This grove of trees area with the pit, grill and tables was used for cooking a whole pig all night long, and having a feast with family and friends the next day. I can still see Pawpaw coming from the house with a little mop in his hand to be used for basting the pork with his homemade barbecue sauce. At the time, I don’t think

anyone ever knew what the recipe was and the same with his Brunswick stew. He just made it and we ate it! Luckily, in later years these recipes were found and continue on with the family. It was not all work on the farm, but yet most of it had to do with the Holdens’ eating! Actually, these tables were used to sit around and cool in the shade after being in the garden. They made fantastic tables for the preparation of vegetables to be canned or frozen. The point is to tell you that they made what they needed - they used what they made. You have heard crop tales, animal tales, along with people tales, so now let’s get to the things I remember about myself as a child on the farm. Under that famous big grove of trees I mentioned, I would play with leaves and sticks and rocks and such to my heart’s content. I

Scientists say the world is made up of protons, neutrons, and electrons. They forgot morons!

would make things with the sticks, berries, moss and rocks, etc. I suppose my present love for making something out of nothing came from this experience. It seemed that I most always played by myself because all of the folks were busy and the younger ones had not taken to the farm like I had. I can never forget our swimming hole days on Sunday afternoons. We would all go to the farm for a big and delicious dinner, and after that daddy would take us kids and adults to the swimming hole across the field to Fightingtown Creek. We did then and still do refer to it as “Fightin’town Creek.” There was a certain opening along the creek where you could enter, and there was a huge rock out in the creek. The water was not really over our heads or too swift so we had a wonderful time playing and trying to learn to swim. Boy was that water cold! Something important to know is that daddy always made us wait an hour after eating before swimming. That was the longest hour! Now they have changed their minds about this rule that we knew was crazy even as a kid! As an aftermath of the swimming hole experience, we trudged back to the house, totally starved to death. On the kitchen table back then they left all the food covered up for folks to eat at their leisure. There was no leisure to it when hungry kids entered the door! There were many leftovers, but my greatest memory was the corn on the cob. Of course, it was cold and butter would not melt, so we smeared it with mayonnaise and salt. Mercy, what a delight! To this day, my children as well as myself think this is a scrumptious treat in the summertime. Another reason I was so attached to the farm with my grandparents and aunt was that when my little sister was seriously ill when she was in the third grade, I stayed with them while my folks were in Chattanooga at the hospital for many weeks. My aunt would take me to school every morning, and I was in the sixth grade. When she picked me up in that old Lincoln Zephyr in the afternoon and took me to the farm, I was in hog heaven. I guess I must have gotten my

homework by the oil lamp light. Maybe that is why I wear glasses today! Of course, I was having fun visiting and living there, but I missed my family and was worried about my sister, which we heard from very little because of no phones out in the country. One day, I remember sitting on the couch crying and praying for my little sister to get well. My aunt came through and saw me. All she said was, “Come on and go with me through the woods to carry off the trash.” The trash was glass or metal that they could not burn at the house. That did it! I was off and running down through the woods. There in the ditches we dumped the trash while playing and picking flowers and stuff along the way. In later years, my daughter and son-in-law were visiting and wanted to have a “dig it up day.” We went down there and dug out all sorts of jars and bottles that had lasted all those years. Remember, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” When I was growing up and in school, I would go for a spend the night at the farm. I will always remember how cold it was in the wintertime. After supper we would gather around the fireplace in the living room, and I was allowed to poke the fire and add wood up to a point. This was the only heat except for the kitchen stove when they were cooking. We only had a light from the fire and the white milk glass old Aladdin lamp which was always burning on the table near Pawpaw. Now, they were a long ways from being poor, but in that day, this is the way things were. I always had lots of weekend fun there, but a very special memory of winter was eating oranges. Now that doesn’t sound so very exciting, but Pawpaw always bought a large bag or box of oranges and apples to have on hand in the winter. He kept them in his bedroom where it was cool and I guess to keep us kids out of them. At night after supper we would have what I called an “Orange Sucking.” We would get an orange, make a hole in the top and away we would go. There has never since been an orange so good as those big cold ones out of Pawpaw’s bedroom. Once when playing in the summertime in the living room, I accidentally slid my hand over a

dime on the mantel edge. I was so excited and surprised. I asked if I could take it and go to Water’s store at the end of our little road leading to the farm. I was told I could and not to wander off anywhere else and to hurry back. I was a real somebody getting to go off walking up the road by myself and getting to take that dime and buy whatever crossed my mind. Well, naturally, I bought candy. Mr. John got me a little bag and told me to pick out what I would like from the little candy pieces offered. Once I got some, he said to get more for that was not a dime’s worth. I kept filling until the bag was full of the old-time candy that you don’t see any more in our day. Do you reckon Mr. Waters was sorry for a poor little girl that only had a dime? Don’t guess I was too poor, for later on my daddy bought the store from Mr. Waters. I was grown by then and didn’t care about the candy. When I got big enough, I would always slip and clean up the house to surprise my aunt when she was at the barn or garden. It served a double purpose for I was there to answer Mammaw’s call when she wanted something from her sick bed. A clean house never really impressed my aunt for she was too busy doing work chores. What really helped was that she did not have to quit her work and come to the house each time she heard that little bell ring. After my Mammaw died, my aunt said that when she was out working she could still hear that bell ring at times. I still have that tiny little purple bell. Guess I deserved it. Anyway, nobody else knew what the bell was used for. As I said in the beginning, the farm was the place to be, the place to go. With my daddy it was almost a necessity for after his other job he had farming to do and his parents to see about. It became an obsession to him as he would go every afternoon after work, after eating a snack at home and bringing a load of kids and grandkids. I have written little here about my daddy who really was one of the main characters on the farm since I have already written at great length about his entire life. Even though I must say that I can still see him with his cap on, or maybe a straw hat, going around looking at the crops, tending them,

“Socialism is the philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy.” – Winston Churchill

harvesting them at times, and “tending to business” as he always put it. When he rested he would sit on the porch and talk to Pawpaw and maybe fall asleep in a chair or on the swing. Of course, upon arrival he had to peruse the kitchen to see if there was anything left to eat, even though he had just eaten at home. By this time, I have grown up and married with two children and both my grandparents are deceased. The siblings had moved off the farm to a nearby house. The house stood empty, but I just could not give up the farm. My husband and I fixed it up with some curtains and furniture, etc. and used it like a weekend cabin for a few years. With the house empty most of the time, and times were getting bad for vandals, we went in one day and found that someone had broken into the house and used the floor in front of the fireplace to build a fire. There was the burned floor, but at least they did put out the fire. This started the mind of my father to worrying (as if his mind needed a reason) about some vandals burning the house down and setting the woods on fire. After we could no longer convince him, he decided otherwise to have it burned by the fire department in the early 1980s. This was a very sad and depressing day in my life. I went down there, and the firemen already had the fire going. I could not stand to watch it so I left The house was burned in 1983. never to see it standing again. Before the burning, vandals had gone up into the attic and stole the old clock and things that we did not know were up there. In this we discovered my father and my aunt’s addresses to their graduating class in high school, documents and valuables of different kinds. They would have been lost forever if the vandals had not thrown them down in their plunder. After several years of setting idle, the siblings thought they had better do something with the property. As it turned out, two in the family purchased it doing upgrading to the property. It is still available to us to visit and relive memories. What a blessing. The old barn is still standing, though beginning to fall apart. Other outbuildings were torn down or burned through the years. Other than the barn and the old Farmall tractor out back, all you can see is the once used garden, grove of trees, a few older trees, the old houseplace, with a few stones to the parking area still showing through the grass. Not much there but memories which we all have made for ourselves and which we will cherish and talk about and write about until our dying day. It was owned by the Holdens, and is still owned by the Holdens. Yes, memories are made of this. May our tribe and our memories increase.

My brain is like the Bermuda Triangle. Information goes in and then it’s never found again.

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Hard work beats talent when talent doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t work hard.

1907 never out of style New owners Heather and Brad Simmons are getting rave reviews from diners

It goes by the name The 1907, because that is the year the building was constructed. This location has gone by two or three other names in the last few years. Until recently, it had been under different ownership with the current name. I have eaten at all incarnations of the restaurant at 24 River Street right off the square in downtown Ellijay. I can say, for certain, that this is the best version, and it is here to stay. Heather and Brad Simmons own River Street Tavern a couple doors down. They have been very successful in their almost always packed pub. Heather and Brad, along Story by Thia Newman family members HowThe Secret Life of Pets Photos by Robb Newman with ard, Cathy and Tracy Taylor, - July 8 have recently reopened The Ghostbusters 1907, with a wonderful new menu, new chef and rave reviews - July 15 from diners. I love the menu - there are plenty of choices for everyone to find what they want, but it is small enough to know that every item is stocked fresh and prepared with care. We visited at the end of June, even before their grand opening (July 12), so we weren’t expecting perfection yet. Most new restaurants have their bumps while they are working things out. Well, we didn’t find any bumps here! These smart owners kept the previous key staff members, who made From top, the delicious 1-lb. The 1907 a place people wanted to visit. Fun and friendly, Bacon is ribeye steak, the bar, key lime still behind the bar, efficient and knowledgeable, and Kristina is running pie, and manager Kristina. the front of house and training new servers. Sou Chef, Kyle Purdy sure

“Working hard is important but there is something that matters even more: Believing in Yourself.” – Harry Potter

knows how to cook! This bit of consistency helped our visit feel like The 1907 was both an established restaurant, and an up and coming destination for dinner. We ordered an appetizer of “Dueling Shrimp,” which was six chilled jumbos with two different sauces. We ordered a 1907 salad, a mixture of pure perfection on a plate with greens, goat cheese, carrots, onion, tomatoes, candied walnuts, and we asked for blue cheese dressing rather than the balsamic on the menu. What you see in the picture is half of the salad. They were nice enough to split it for us. Perfect for my veggie friends as is, or topped with shrimp or chicken if you want. I loved this salad and would highly recommend it. When Robb and I looked at the menu for entrees, we both wanted the steak. The 16-oz. ribeye caught OUR eyes, and we had to have it. So we decided to share a couple different items. Yes, the ribeye is $25, but it is a pound of steak, with sides of home cut fries and veggies. It was cooked to our order, a perfect medium. It was so juicy and tender. Seasoned just enough to bring out the flavor of the meat, but not take away from it. This ribeye was definitely one of the best ones I’ve ever had. It was out-of-this-world delicious. The french fries were crispy, hot and yummy. Robb couldn’t stop wondering aloud how Kyle got it so delicious. There must be a secret to it, he said. Both of us would get this menu item again in a minute! And if you want a smaller portion there is also a 12-oz. steak available. We also had the Lump Crab cakes with pasta, and ended up taking most of that home because there was just too much food to eat! We were too stuffed for dessert, but we had to have a bite in order to inform our readers, right? The homemade Key Lime Pie was a perfect light ending to this rich filling meal. The food, the service, the owner we spoke to, Cathy Simmons-Taylor, everything was wonderful! If you liked this restaurant in a previous incarnation, you will LOVE it now. And if you didn’t used to like it, you will, so try it again! We had a one-pound ribeye steak that you could cut with a butter knife. We had a 1907 salad with candied walnuts that was out of this world, and much more to eat. This is fine dining, but comfortable, and enough variety in Dueling price where you shrimp can get a great meal, whether you have a big budget ($25 for the steak) or a little budget (our huge salad was $8). Also on the

Half of a 1907 salad! menu are hamburgers, sandwiches and pasta dishes. I personally want to go back to try the food from England - Bangers and Mash & Shepherd’s Pie! Reservations are a good idea for dinner, especially on the weekends. There is a kid’s menu available. There is a full liquor bar, and you can also eat dinner at the bar. We loved our visit to the NEW 1907, and we will be back for sure. Two thumbs up! CrabLast minute upcakes date! There are a few changes coming up this summer at The 1907! New Executive Chef Christopher Adgate is now in charge of the kitchen. I had the chance to ask him a few questions. How did you end up at 1907? I came to 1907 because I was looking for a restaurant that fits my niche. I am mainly experienced in fine dining in a higher end restaurant. That’s my wheelhouse. And when I talked to the owners of 1907, it was the perfect time to come on board. What changes will you be making at the restaurant? When it comes to changes or a new direction for 1907, I will be adding more new southern style cuisine. Taking southern dishes and products and putting an elevated spin on them. For example, I’ll make fried green tomatoes, but they will be much classier and higher end. The general cuisine will be familiar but with a twist. 706-635-1907 for reservations Open every day except Monday at 11 a.m.

Believe in yourself. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think.

Gentle Words

By Kathi Chastain

A ‘funny’ cabin

A cheerful heart is good medicine. - Proverbs 17:22a A few weeks ago my husband and I took a weekend trip to the Northeast Mountains in Cleveland, Georgia. Cleveland is a small town just outside Helen, Georgia. We wanted a little mountain getaway that wasn’t too far from home. I had been to Cleveland before, but my husband had not. I thought he would enjoy this small mountain community. We had reserved a little cabin at a place called Gabby’s Cabins that afforded a nice view of Mt. Yonah. Mt. Yonah is a mountain with a granite face just near the peak that I think is very beautiful. There was also a small lake situated just in front of the cabins (at least it looked that way from the road), and I thought it would be an idyllic setting for a weekend getaway. We checked into the cabin and guess what, you couldn’t see the lake from the cabin. So okay, it was still a nice little cabin with a fairly nice view. We could still enjoy this sweet spot. However, we had been given the honeymoon suite. When we checked in, our eyes were drawn to the biggest thing in the room, a gigantic heart-shaped hot tub in bright red. We chuckled about the honeymoon suite and left to get something to eat. Now the hot tub was a great thing to have, but you have to understand that I have had two knee replacement surgeries and haven’t been in a tub since 2010. Although I do shower daily. Getting in that hot tub was just not going to happen. I did notice a small mirror on the floor just above the baseboard on the wall opposite the hot tub, but I didn’t give it much thought. I also noticed all the mirrors on the walls, but again I didn’t give them much thought. I was hungry! The owners of the cabins had told us about a little drive-

in spot that had the best burgers you’ve ever tasted so we unloaded the car and headed up to the drive-in. The owners were right. Those burgers were fantastic! After we ate we went to the best Ingle’s grocery store around and stocked up on necessities like coffee and creamer among other things. We moseyed on back to the cabin for a little R & R. We planned to do some sightseeing the next day to a cute little Indian village called Sautee that I had discovered on my previous trip. There is an old timey general store there, a great store called Shotgun Annie’s, and a lovely lavender shop. There are also quaint little bistros and more stores for shopping. I just couldn’t wait to go to Sautee and spend some money. We got back to the cabin and I lay down on the bed with my Kindle to read a good book. At that point it was too hot to sit outside which we would do later in the evening. Imagine my utter surprise when lo and behold I looked up. There were mirrors all over the ceiling. I was beyond flabbergasted. I grabbed my husband to lie on the bed and look up. We laughed so hard at all these mirrors everywhere. I almost wet my pants I laughed so hard. Now we knew what the mirror on the floor was for. So you could look at yourself in the hot tub. I thought this was the most hilarious sight I had seen in nearly forever. Two older people watching themselves in all these mirrors was just way too much. Our sojourn to Sautee the next day was lots of fun, and then we drove into Helen for dinner. The trip was very relaxing and enjoyable. But I will never forget those mirrors and the laughs they brought to us. Who would have thought a mirror could be so entertaining! Grace and peace to you. Amen.

“Practice does not make perfect. Only perfect practice makes perfect.” – Vince Lombardi

Making a choice When you go forth in positivity and happiness, joy will compound around you and spread even more “Happiness is a choice, not a result. Nothing will make you happy until you choose to be happy. No person will make you happy unless you decide to be happy. Your happiness will not come to you. It can only come from you.” - Ralph Marston I recently was talking with a friend who was distraught after watching the news. It is easily understandable how he would feel that way, as there are many discouraging things happening daily – as there have been since the dawn of time. People argue that we are in the worst of times, just as our parents, grandparents and every line of ancestors before us have. While there seems to be a spotlight on every bad thing that happens throughout the world (technology streaming it into our hands), it is not a new happening…..and unless individuals choose to change for the positive, it will remain the same. In this technological world, just as in the “ancient or primitive” world, we have a choice where to put our energy. The energy we put into something will feed it, so if we concentrate on the negative, that is what we feed; conversely true is the fact that if we concentrate our energy on positivity, it will be fed and flourish. This is an ancient concept with plenty of results and studies to confirm its validity. So how can we affect the world? If we were to start by concentrating on making ourselves more positive and loving…. through gratitude….we would start improving as individuals, which then improves the world. We all are seeking the same outcome – to be loved, accepted and happy. The hard part comes when we realize it is not something that seeking outwardly will ever solve.

We must delve deep within ourselves for happiness; good news is it starts with gratitude, is fed by gratitude and is completed with gratitude. Being thankful for what you have, self-accepting of who you are, and truly loving yourself is the solution to all the world’s issues. When you are able to do so, your perception, attitude, happiness and vibration change to a positive that then goes out into the world and encourages the same. By going forth in positivity and happiness, joy compounds around you and spreads exponentially. It is not about competitiveness, and success will follow you and those around you who choose the same. If everyone works towards the same goal of inner happiness, it overflows through them and the world changes in a ripple effect of love and beauty. \ I say let’s give it a try….. Here’s a few positive affirmations to get you started on your journey – I am enough. I have enough. I am love. I am loved. I am happy. I am beautiful. I am grateful. Peace, love and happiness

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“We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future.” – George Bernard Shaw