Jewels, Who Would Have Known?

   Talbotton, GA…..does that ring a bell? I thought not, but we found some jewels there the other day.

   I had looked up the courthouse site for Talbot County before we left on this trip and found out that there were some old churches, and an old, still-in-use courthouse, so I thought it could be a nice little place to look around.

   First of all we spotted the courthouse, standing as it most always does in these smaller towns right on the high point, overlooking the rest of the area.

   This building was built in 1892 and was closed for the Thanksgiving holiday by the time we rolled into town. The clock tower, occupied by a 3,000 lb. Seth Thomas timing mechanism, was also typical of others we had seen as it told at least 3 different times. I missed the fourth side somehow and could not find it on any of my shots.

   I had a vague address for the older church in town, Zion Episcopal, but had no trouble finding it right out from the courthouse. This church was built in 1848, no longer had a congregation, but was kept up by others from the diocese and some local folks. A beautiful church structure, and , as an article stated, it had a slave gallery and a striking interior. Unfortunately, it was also closed and locked (I checked).

   While circling the block to get back on our route out of town, we saw a large columned white building on our right. Thinking that it might have been an early home in town, we stopped and found another jewel.

   I had wondered when I noted that the Zion Church had been located just north of college street, could it be that there was, or had been, a college, in this town?

   The sign out front indicated that this building was a part of LeVert Female College, a school that was under the umbrella of the Methodist Church and had been founded there in 1856. It was named for Octavia Walton LeVert, the granddaughter of George Walton, one of three signers of the Declaration of Independence from Georgia.

   This college had to close its doors in 1907 because of the decline of cotton in the area, but the town keeps up this building for concerts and other events.

   The Straus family were donors to the school and one of the sons of the Jewish immigrant moved to New York and founded a business that became the Macy Department store chain.

   All of these jewels from a small town in West Georgia. Who would ever have known?

   There was also one other structure that I photographed as we rode out of town.

   Someone once farmed here, lived and worked here, but went someplace else. He was a part of this community, too, at one time.

   Maybe another jewel, who knows?

A Response to Ferguson

   As I watched the evening news last night and followed that up with the newscast of the grand jury deliberation in St. Louis County concerning the activities in Ferguson, Missouri, my mind went to the question:

   "How should a Christian deal with all of this?"

   I know there is a lot to pray for there. The citizens of that area, both black and white, the people that feel they have been wronged by the lack of indictments, the law enforcement men and women, the protestors, both peaceful and violent.

   How should the Christian community respond?

   But that community is made up of a bunch of individuals, and how should each of us respond? Not only in our feelings, but in our conversations about the whole matter with friends and family, and in our attitudes toward the parties involved.

   How much influence over our minds does the media have? If all we see today are the fires burning, the looters and the protestors running through the streets, that will be our perception of the whole of that society.

   Where are the peaceful protestors? Are they huddled in the background of those scenes of violence? Does the night belong only to the violent? Will they be in view in the day today, before the night falls again? Will the media cover them?

   Before we can ascertain what we can do in these situations, we must first of all determine what we believe about the parties involved. We want to place the blame somewhere, but where is the right place? Is there one?

   I pray that God will work in the hearts of those people over there, no matter the race or position on the events, to bring peace, His peace, to all.

   And I pray that He will open my mind and heart to all the factors that culminated in the events of last evening, indeed the events of the past few months. I want to see it from His perspective, and then let my words reflect that view.

   Sure, I know that this is a fallen world, but I want my thoughts and words to not be a part of the problem.

Thankful for the "Old"

   What is it about old buildings that attract me? I have a hard drive full of abandoned homes, farm buildings left to rot and fall, stately courthouses some still in use, churches of the past era active and in use today, as well as a variety of buildings captured in the cities and small towns of Georgia.

   On a short trip last week I captured these places with my lens:

   An 1801 Government building in Augusta, home to the first courts in Richmond Co.

   The Lincoln County Courthouse in Lincolnton

   A unique courthouse in Washington, GA, home of the government of Wilkes Co.

   The courthouse in Appling, still active, but increasingly bypassed as the population of the county moves toward the eastern part of its boundary.

   St. James Untied Methodist Church, built in 1856 and still serving in Augusta.

   Men and Women served in all these places. They made decisions that took care of people, preserved freedoms and liberties, and allowed the economy to prosper.

   Service in courthouses and churches all across this state gave us the lives that we now enjoy. The propagation of our democratic system, and the faith that ties us to a God that blessed us greatly.

   On this Thanksgiving holiday in 2014, I think back and I thank all those who have served in the past, and those serving today.

   And I think of all who have blessed us with their lives, all the while serving in relative obscurity in places like these:

or

   Moms and Dads, bringing up their kids "right", instilling in them the values of honesty, caring, working, and believing, no matter the economic condition.

   I am thankful for the opportunity to photograph these and many more "old" places around our state, but I salute, with my gratitude, those who served in each one, public or private, and passed down to us our heritage of freedom and Christian faith.

   Thank You, God

   May we do the same, faithfully each and every day.

"First, Do No Harm"

   A few days back, after visiting a friend over in prison, I wrote a piece about my experience there and posted it on this site. It is here:

http://walkinganewpath-pilgrim.blogspot.com/2014/11/security-whose-and-how.html

   Thinking that my friend would enjoy reading my reflections on his "home" over there, I made a copy and sent it off to him in the mail.

   Then yesterday, there are two letters in the mailbox. One from the prison officials returning my copy of the blog post, and another from the friend advising me of the situation.

   It seems that the deputy warden got ahold of the correspondence, I guess they open all the mail before it is delivered, and took offense to what I had written in the blog. By sending a copy on to the inmate, the assumption was made that I was giving information on visiting procedures that might allow an inmate to escape.

   Of course that was not my intent. In fact, I never even considered that possibility at all. All I wanted to do was to tell him what being in that prison felt like to me on that day. I never dreamed that what I wrote could be a potential problem to him. Just this little post, little in my opinion, might have triggered disciplinary actions, ones that could impact his standing in that place. Not for me were problems a possibility, but for the man who had no part in the act.

   When I got over my shock at the fact that the officials would read so much into that "innocent" post, I realized I had not thought out very well my actions in sending it to him in the mail. I had known that he would never see it on the blog site as they have no access to the Internet, so snail mail was the only way I could think of to tell my thoughts. Copying the post and printing it out for him seemed to be the best way.

   My friend wrote, telling me of the official's reprimand he received because of my actions, but more forcefully stating that I don't need to do that sort of thing again.

   In other words "Think before you act".

   While I was thinking of that this morning, the words of the Hippocratic Oath, "First do no harm", came to mind. (Researching that quote on line, I find that it is really not in the Oath, but comes from a later time period, but it does convey meaning for me in the situation.)

   Words have a tremendous potential for good or for ill, many times unintended consequences, as I found out.

   I thought also of this verse in Psalms:

"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart Be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, my rock and my Redeemer."

   Think, Don, Think!

   Too many words, too little thinking and discretion.

   First, do no harm...

Three Meaningful Words

   I received a post from a friend this morning. It was a quote from Psalm 37:4 and it talked about taking delight in the Lord.

   I jokingly replied back that it is hard when the wind chill is 21, but truly it is not all that hard.

   Looking at a definition of "success", someone said that it is "Doing the best you can with what you have and where you are."

   There is a lot in those few words:

      Your best
      What you have
      Where you are

   Those thoughts can lead to three more words:

      Gratitude
      Peace
      Contentment

   I have been working on my Georgia courthouses over the past couple of days and this picture came up as I opened the file this morning:

   Worth County, Sylvester, GA

   The fall foliage shot just seemed like the picture of those three little words:

      Gratitude
      Peace
      Contentment

   So, I delighted in the Lord and his world on the day that I took this, and I get to do it again as I think on all the life He has allowed me to live., and the people he has brought into my life.

   Thank You, God

   Amen and Amen

What is in a Name?

   There was a sign in a little park in Americus, GA that has stayed with me since that Sunday morning a couple of weeks back when I read it for the first time.

   There are some names on this plaque that stand out. Dr. Rees who gave the land for the park in 1846, his son Lucius, who died in the battle of Petersburg in VA in 1864 and for whom the park was dedicated as a permanent memorial, General Robert E. Lee, the commander of the army in which he served.

   But there is another person on there, and he is nameless. He is not known for what name he was called, but for what he did.

   The sign reads in part:

   "Against horrendous odds, and enslaved family servant, who accompanied him to war, single-handedly returned is body to his grieving family here in Americus for burial in nearby Oak Grove Cemetery."

   Too often we strive through live to make a name for ourselves, to be relevant in the place that we live.  A name that will live on after we do. How much better to be remembered for the good that we have done, even if our name is not spoken.

   Priorities in the right order.

   Another thing I need to remember and do.

 

Weekday People

   A couple of weekends ago, it was a trip to Leesburg, Lumpkin, Preston, Cochran, Baxley, McRae and Alma, with a sleepover in Americus. When you travel on a Saturday and Sunday, this is what you get.

   A courthouse building, a town square devoid of people and monuments that you can't ask anyone about.

   But what about just taking off in the middle of the week? There is more traffic on the roads to be sure, but the one thing that makes it more informative and enjoyable is that there are actually real people to talk with and learn from.

   An example of this was brought home to us this past Thursday, as we took a day off and visited the towns of Hinesville, Reidsville, Mt. Vernon, Soperton, Claxton and Pembroke, all county seats with courthouses for us to see and photograph.

   After visiting the first four on that list, and after munching on our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, we rolled into Claxton, home of the Claxton fruit cakes and the county seat of Evans County.

   Evans County, named for a Confederate General who surrendered with Lee at Appomattox in 1865, was constituted in 1914 with land taken from Bulloch and Tattnall counties. The current population is around 11,000, with Claxton the largest town.

   As I came back from the front of the courthouse building, I found Mayre talking with a lady at the side door. There was an apology for the side entrance being locked, which we had not tried to enter anyway, but the lady invited us in to see the building.

   This led to a tour of the upstairs with its original courtroom as well as some minutes discussing the county and its people. This was the original, and only, courthouse the county had used for all of its 100 year history. It was built in 1923 and was in great shape after a remodeling in 1980.

   It was an unhurried visit, as we sat in the old courtroom and visited for some little time. Our guide was the Clerk of the courts of the county, Kathy Hendrix, and she was glad to answer all our questions and give us facts about things that we did not even know to ask about.

   The personal touch is what we will remember. All kinds of information can be gleaned from books and monuments, but having a person take her time to show some people around and explain the workings of the country and its government made it special.

   Georgia has 159 counties, and we have seen a lot of them, but the ones that we will remember the best will be those where the contact was personal.

   Thank you, Kathy for your willingness to share and your time to do it.

   God puts people in our path that make our lives richer just by their being there, if we only take the time to listen and look. Those are the best days of our traveling.

   The key to meaningful travel is people…

   Some day I might tell you about the locked rest rooms and the inmate reconditioned pews.

Eleven, Eleven, Eleven

   Early on last Sunday morning, out to catch a possible sunrise, I walked in a park across from our B&B in Americus, GA.

   It was a small park, maybe a block long and less than 100 yards wide, but filled with history.

   As I glanced to the east toward the lightening sky, there was this sculpture, silhouetted against that morning.

   I could tell from the shape of the helmet that the soldier on the pedestal was of the WWI era, so I went closer to see any inscription on the base. It read:

SUMTER COUNTY
AFFECTIONATELY REMEMBERS
HER SONS WHO DIED, AND THOSE
WHO OFFERED THEMSELVES, AS
WILLING SACRIFICES IN THE
CAUSE OF OUR COUNTRY.
1917 WORLD WAR 1918

   A close up view of the soldier figure showed a man moving through a battlefield strewn with barbed wire, probably a depiction of a charge through no-man's land in the trench warfare days of that war.

   We have a national day of remembrance today, November 11, 2014, originally called Armistice Day, but now entitled Veteran's Day, formerly to honor those who served and died in that conflict, now to honor all veterans who have served this country.

   So I do that this morning.

   World War I came to a close on the 11th hour in the morning of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918.

   This year is the 100th anniversary of the start of this conflict. The war lasted 4 years. America was involved in only the last 2 years, and sometimes this war pales in comparison to the greater involvement in WWII, or the more recent ones of Vietnam and Iraq, but there were sacrifices of life and limb in those early days of the 20th century also.

   Those who served, and who sometimes gave it all, carried the weight of our freedom on their shoulders all down through our nation's history, and it is fitting that we honor them today.

   And I am glad that I got up early last Sunday and spotted this monument as a visual reminder of the cost of my freedom.

   Let us not forget...

Security, Whose and How?

   At the end of the sidewalk, there is a gate. I walk toward it.

   An unseen hand presses a button, and I hear "click"

   I pull the gate, enter, and it shuts behind me as I approach a door, "CLANK"

   I open the door and enter a room with a woman behind the counter.

   "Sign in, give me some ID, state why you are here."

   I do all the above and then hear:

   "Take off your shoes and put them on the scanner tread."

   I do and then walk through the body scanner, and then hear:

   "Empty your pockets, turn them inside out."

   Then a question: "Do you have anything else on your person?"

   I ask about a handkerchief in my back pocket and have to surrender that.

   "Nothing can be brought in. I'll give it back on the way out."

   "Take your shoes, put them on, and proceed through the door ahead."

   "Take this metal piece with you, Number 13"

   Doing that, I reach another gate. Again

   "click", I go through, "CLANK"

   Another sidewalk, another door, this one open for entrance.

   Another desk, another woman,

   "I'll take your ID, What is your number?"

   "13, OK, move up to the next gate"

   "click……. CLANK"

   Another desk, a man in uniform

   "What is your number?"

   Showing the metal disk, "13".

   "OK, table 13 is right over there, sit down on the left side of it and wait."

   And all of the above is just the security procedure for getting in to see an inmate for an hour on visiting day. At least it was easier getting out after the visit. (and I did get the handkerchief back)

   Security cameras in the room, officers patrolling the area and watching, all to keep some unauthorized behavior from happening.

   As I sat there at #13 waiting on my friend to be fetched from his dorm, I thought about all that security. It was not for me, it may have been partly for the inmates, but mostly it seemed to be for the officers and staff of the facility. If illegal items could not be brought in from the outside, weapons, drugs, phones or whatever, control over the population would be easier and altercations could be kept to a minimum, thereby giving the prison a good record.

   My security seemed to be a secondary consideration, if at all. I guess they would protect me in case of a problem, but mainly they just did not want me to be the problem.

   I have never felt threatened in the many times I have been behind all those gates, not because of all the procedures and all the men and women around in uniform, but because I know that all of those are not my hope of security, even if they wanted to be.

   No, it is God who is my hope and my security. All the stuff that goes on behind that razor wire is not for me, and I'm glad I don't have to trust in that.

   And I did have a good visit.

A Certain Word

   In a few hours I will be sitting in the visitor reception room in a prison run by the Sate of Georgia. All around me, as I wait for the officers to bring in the one I am to visit myself, are inmates and families catching up on the news of home and of prison. All the inmates are dressed the same.

   I bring this up because I was reminded this morning of a word that surfaced in my brain some weeks back when we were on our little trip to Scotland. We had visited ashore the day before and had gone through a cathedral, as we often did, looking at the windows, reflecting on the people that sat in those pews in the past or the present.

   There were images and traditions that were foreign to our church at home, and I wondered about the lives and hearts of those folks who frequented that sanctuary. How did God see them?

   I don't remember how this word came to my mind, but there it was; a word that I would not ordinarily use but I did know and could appreciate its meaning. The word was disparage, a word the dictionary defines like this:

"to bring reproach or discredit upon; lower the estimation of:

   The clear message to me that morning was: "Do not look down or question the motives of people that you do not even know. Don't question their motives or actions, especially in the realm of religion and worship. You do not see them as God does. You can't see their heart or fathom their reasoning. You don't need to judge. Just because they seem different from you, they are important to God."

   So, as I look around that room in that prison, I will try to remember that word and resolve not to do it. No matter the outward appearance, the tattoos, the earrings, the hard faces or the apparent attitudes, they are human beings, made in the image of God. They deserve more than disparagement or dismissal, and they could be much closer to God than any stranger that looks on them there.

   Jesus says in John 8:

“He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone"

   I'm not throwing that first stone, no way.

A Reminder From a Surprised Deer

   Walking along the path quietly this morning, just thinking about the days ahead, nothing profound, just some thoughts about where we were going, what we were going to do, who we would see, and how the weekend looked from the vantage point of 2 days away.

   There was a prison to go into and an inmate to visit. There were a couple of courthouses to add to our photographic collection. Nothing dramatic, but I just was thinking about how those things would go and what our time would look like.

   I don't know where this animal came from. I surely had not seen him before I heard him (or her), but all of a sudden there was a clatter of hoofbeats on the path behind me. A deer skidded to a stop not 10 feet back, and, I guess, two hearts skipped beats at the sudden realization of a close encounter.

   My mind went from a slow idle to a full alert in a second, and his did too, I guess, as he recovered from his shock, dashed across the street and crashed into the woods where there was not even a path for him. His morning activities had been altered and mine too.

   I thought how quickly things can change. I can make plans, both short term and long, but in the instant of an email, a phone call, a rock on a beach, or even hoofbeats on a concrete cart path, they can all change.

   I know I do need to plan for things, but maybe I should just be more like my friend who says:

   "At my age I don't even buy green bananas"

   There is a verse in James, chapter 4, that says (The Message):

" And now I have a word for you who brashly announce, “Today—at the latest, tomorrow—we’re off to such and such a city for the year. We’re going to start a business and make a lot of money.” You don’t know the first thing about tomorrow. You’re nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing."

   I need to be less dogmatic about any plans I make, and I've got to remember those green bananas.

Church Without Walls

   Way back, when our church was still small, we used an outreach we called "Church in the Park". On Sunday morning we would set up in Neptune park, down by the Ocean and the Pier area and have one morning service outside. Sure, we have had days of  "too warm", "too windy" and even yesterdays "maybe a little chilly", but it has been a good experience.

   Yesterday we did it again. With the morning temperatures on the cool side, folks set up their chairs in the sun for some music, some fun and some preaching of course.

   The area is great. People are out enjoying the day. Visitors to the Island, enjoying the atmosphere, stop by to listen, and some stay to participate.

   The music pulls in folks to listen, and some even get on the phone to calls their friends to tell them there is room in the tree for them.

   There was a visitor from Haiti who talked about the hope that people have down on that island.

   There was fellowship. There was singing. There was listening.

   In short, there was Worship.

   What better way to enjoy the beauty of God's creation than to worship the One who did it all, especially as a family together.

   Even nature itself was there to worship and enjoy the "fruits" of His presence.

What a great land we live in.

My "To Do" List

   There are lot of "to dos" in life.

   There are those things that I need to do. These may come from responsibilities that I have or places and/or situations that I find myself in.

   There are those things that I have to do. It is in my lap and there is no one else to do it.

   There are some things that I want to do. They give me pleasure, they stoke my ego, they are just the right actions to take.

   Then there are things that I get to do. Deserved or not, they give me satisfaction.

   And sometimes something ends up on all the lists. It may be a matter of perception, or of will, or just because the right things are not always easy, but do lead to satisfaction.

   At times I need to take a look back from the goal to see all the "to dos" necessary to get there.

   Take for example this morning:

   My goal in the mornings is to get up early, read, pray, walk and write, so:

   1. I need to get up out of that warm bed to get started.

   2. My need to is all for nothing if I don't actually do it, so I have to rise and shine (at least rise).

   3. But I really want to do this. I feel that I am called to start my day this way, and my "want to" is a powerful stimulative to keeping on this path

   4. Sometimes I am stymied, or I cannot get going, or God does not seem all that near, no matter how much I want to be in close fellowship, but I do it anyway, feeling that it is right, and that God will honor my efforts. After all, I do not set an alarm and feel that God Himself wakes me up to begin this process each day, so there must be a reason.

   But on those days when it all fits, and I come to the end of the time, and I feel like I have heard from Him and even passed some of it along, I know that I "Get to" participate in His whole story.

   The "I Get To" is a good place to be, and when a bunch of these are strung together, the "need tos" and the "have tos" are much easier to navigate.

   And only God need know all the struggles and joys of the whole process.

   What a deal!