Tamu and I woke up in Folkston, ready to start the new year and our last day on this leg of the journey. I found a church for New Years and then headed out to the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge, which is run by the Dept of Interior. Its beauty was a surprise; it was a wooded version of the Everglades. I took an eight mile drive loop around the park by car. I could get out and walk, but because of the presence of wildlife, I had to leave Tamu in the car. He was already a bit miffed with me because I stopped to pet a stray puppy wandering around church. So my morning had a good bit of stink eye aimed at me.
I learned that Stephen Foster’s song about the Swanee River is apparently about the Suwannee Canal, which is part of the Okefenokee Swamp. First, of course, it was Native American land before it drew settlers who eked out a living from timber until the Great Depression. In 1936, the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) cleared it and began a conservation program that has resulted in the beautiful site I visited. While I was walking, I heard woodpeckers but did not see the black bear rumored to be there. The US Fish & Wildlife Service does controlled burning to preserve the ecosystem. My mother used to name it like a reference point for poor, backwoods folk, and the area around it had little evidence of wealth like I saw in Thomasville and coastal Georgia. It was not entirely poor either. I later learned that one of my friends from graduate school is from the area, and she is always surprised to know I visited it.
Because I got a fairly early start on New Years Day, I had the site to myself. It was the wrong time of year to see beautiful wildflowers, but the weather was pleasant and the place was beautiful. I stopped to visit the preserved Chesser Homestead. Chesser was a Fish & Wildlife employee when he shot a bear that had encroached on his land there. Hunting was banned, so he left the site for Folkston in 1958. He house is still well preserved, with some beautiful furniture that would now raise considerable money for the family and a barn full of buggies. Mrs. Chesser worked for the school hot lunch program, so perhaps my friend knew her as she lived until 1998 and helped Fish & Wildlife restore the homestead for visitors. One of the surviving sons lives in Waycross and has dropped in with his family too. The boardwalk out to a lookout had been destroyed by fire that year, so I could not walk it, but I let Tamu out of the car. He promptly ran off with a guide to the barn because I went into the house without him.
We stopped for a quick walk in Folkston to compare it with Thomasville, and it struck me as a charming small town, more typical of rural American life than our next stop.
Jekyll Island was a resort area for America’s robber barons up until World War II. Set on one of Georgia’s coastal islands between Cumberland Island and Savannah, the place contains a central hotel, the Jekyll Island Club, with a croquet court. It was a mild and pretty New Years Day, and many people strolled around like me and Tamu, who needed some attention and exercise. Families like the Rockefellers and Morgans eventually built cottages there to spend the winter. The Carnegies were excluded, which is what sent them to Cumberland Island. From the Jekyll, I looked out at the Intercoastal Waterway which moves between barrier islands along the Atlantic. The other side of the island offers white sand and a dog beach. The charm and remove of the place provided a feeling of peace. Tamu pulled me around the island, finally having a say in our vacation activities.
After a considerable walk, we headed to St. Simons Island to watch the sun set over New Years Day. Tamu and I joined families and kids out on the pier and we walked on the white sand beach, enjoying our last opportunity to wade in the ocean before we would head back to Virginia from Savannah the next day. After some dining and shopping, we admired the lighthouse and watched the flash of red in the sunset. It was a great day, and an auspicious start to 2012, which would offer another chance to see Georgia.
