Today I drove into Savannah, (just 50 miles from Hunting Island, SC) a city I visited for the first time more than two years ago in the relatively early days of the pandemic. I felt like I knew the city somewhat even before then, having read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (top 5 fav book) in about 2001 (plus a couple times since). It’s a true crime mystery, but what appealed to me more were the eccentric characters, the description of the city—its people, history, and architecture. It’s worth noting that the lead character in Midnight in the Garden…, James Williams, was key to the revival and preservation of a lot of the historical architectural aspects of Savannah. Then he almost certainly murdered someone and got away with it.
Another James—James Oglethorpe—was the founder of the colony of Georgia and also designed Savannah as a grid of squares, laid out so simply that there’s almost no chance of getting lost, which I can usually do anywhere. A full twenty-two of these squares—essentially 22 parks, each a full city block—are regularly spaced throughout what is now the historic district, culminating in the 30 acre Forsyth Park, which is perhaps the most beautiful park I’ve ever seen. Forsyth is surrounded by homes in the Gothic and Greek Revival architectural styles (including one not far away where General Sherman lived for a time during the Civil War).
Ancient oaks draped with Spanish moss creep like friendly giants in the park, and from every boulevard and sidewalk, so that the city seems to have lovingly built itself up around them, giving them the space they need while sharing in the rest. The whole city has a romantic, mysterious air to it, and if you’re into it, there’s no shortage of tours of the historical, paranormal, architectural, gastronomical, and cemeterial variety. Walking down Jones St. I overheard a passing tour guide say that it “has been named the most beautiful residential street in America for 7 consecutive years,” and though I question how one arrives at that ranking, I could believe it.
Savannah is also a city known for its food and drink, so it makes sense that my stomach was still being a bastard from a bout with food poisoning earlier in the week. I walked more than 5 miles through the city having again eaten almost nothing throughout the day. At one point I stopped for a smoothie—banana and strawberry. Halfway through making it the guy said, “Is it cool if the strawberries have coconut in them? Because the strawberries have coconut in them.”
Why in the f**k would strawberries have coconut in them? How do you get the coconut in the strawberries? And why not call it a coconut-banana-strawberry smoothie instead, if it does? (I said none of this, nor did I complain or change my order, because I am a coward) I hate coconut but he said it was just a little, so I went with it. A block later I tossed that $9 smoothie in the garbage (everything in the touristy areas of Savannah is really expensive—I also had a $7 scoop of ice cream).
I was just as blown away by Savannah this time as during my first visit, and I know I’ll be back again. Someday I’ll actually eat and drink in a restaurant. I’ll bring friends. My biggest regret is that in Forsyth Park, there were a number of artists and vendors, and one man had a sign that said simply, “Poetry.” When I walked by he asked, “Would you like 5 minutes of deep conversation?” And I’ll regret not taking him up on that, regretted it even as I declined, but my stomach just wasn’t in it, and my brain simply would not follow.
Later I wondered, what does “deep” mean? How would we begin? Would we talk religion? I have no interest in that discussion. About death? About fear? Hope? Love? With this complete stranger, would we bare our souls to each other in 5 minutes? Someday I hope to find out.
Issue: I would be remiss not to mention that most of the homes in the historic district are worth many millions of dollars, and yet homeless people are in every square and park. I wish we would work to fix this.
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