Birthday Day--February 22

We break camp early—for us—8 AM, before breakfast. We find a McDonald’s back on the mainland and get a cup of coffee to tide us over. In Waycross, GA, we look for a restaurant downtown, a local place. No luck. Everything is either closed or, worse, out of business. Pretty sad place. We go back to the highway and stop at a Huddle House. I get another serving of country ham, probably my last. We sit at the counter so that we can watch the show at the grill. It is a delight to watch people move quickly and surely through a job they do so well. We decide that, because of the space, the skinniest person behind the counter is also the most ideal. This place has a smoking room! Haven’t seen that before.

We head for Americus and our hotel—yes, hotel. It is my birthday and I want a bathtub. I’ve had nothing but showers this trip. It’s time for a bathtub. We check into the hotel, an 1890’s Queen Anne/Victorian red stone and brick structure that takes up half of the entire block. It is a wonderful building with a 3-story lobby surrounded by balconies at each level. The lobby floor is the original marble. The hotel was essentially abandoned in the 60’s, after being turned into apartments and rented out for a number of years. Mr. Patel purchased it in the 90’s and renovated it. I wish him much success. It’s a hard business.

We check out the visitor information next door then head for Plains, GA, with a map in hand. The Plains High School now is an historic site, with Carter exhibits throughout the building and a video in the old auditorium. We spend an hour or so there and then go by the Carter house (the one that was built in 1961 and has had only one addition since, a garage to replace the one that Jimmy turned into a workshop). We drive to the Carter family farm where Jimmy lived until going away to the Naval Academy. It is actually in Archery, GA, a tiny town that had 12 black families and 2 white families. The Carters had a farm and a store, so they were relatively prosperous. I admire Jimmy Carter, the man, although I think that Jimmy Carter, the president, was relatively ineffective. I really hate the way he lost the election; I think the hostage crisis wasn’t his fault.

We go back to town, do a drive by of interesting houses, and look for a restaurant. Again, not much choice on a Sunday. The restaurant in the hotel isn’t open and neither is any other eating place downtown. We head out the highway and our choices boil down to Ryan’s Steakhouse and Ruby Tuesday. I choose Ryan’s. It turns out to the one of those buffet places, but they have pickled beets so I decide we’ll stay. We are the only white folks in the place for about half an hour, but then others come in. It’s not a problem, just an observation. I am aware of it and wonder if blacks are equally aware when they are the only blacks in a restaurant. Wouldn’t recommend Ryan’s if you have any other options.

We go back to the hotel, I take by bath, and settle in to watch the Academy Awards. Didn’t think of that when I requested a hotel!