My older sister and I are very close. We text, email or talk almost daily and know almost everything about each other. She was instrumental in raising me and continues to teach me lessons in life. She is a great friend and generally among my strongest supporters.
My sister has always preached appreciation. Appreciation for what we have. Appreciation for where we live. Appreciation for our jobs. Appreciation for our friends. And above all, appreciation for family.
She is forever sentimental. She reminisces about childhood, days gone by, Jerry Garcia, the Chicago Cubs and movies.
And so, in this my last Savannah Morning News column, I will take a cue from my sister and outline a few things that I will miss from this great city.
I will miss the way they call your name at Vinnie Van Go Go’s. I will miss the international college students obliviously riding their bikes without helmets, dangerously, through the historic district. The act of scanning the scene when walking into the Sentient Bean. The fans above the bar at the America Legion on Bull Street. The sandwiches from Brighter Day.
I will fondly remember the downtown battle between the powerful tourist lobby and residents who long to enjoy their neighborhood. The unspoken battle between Savannah and Charleston. The back river on Tybee. David Paddison’s constant advice giving disguised as Confucian phraseology.
Prayer before City Council meetings. The online comments at savannahnow.com. The beautiful women behind the desk at the Bull Street public library.
Alex Raskin shuffling in and out of his store. The sweat of summer. The music emanating from African-American churches on Sunday mornings. The sweet smell of paper mills on a wet day. The free ferry ride to Hutchinson Island.
Bradley Lock and Key. Playing softball in the adult recreational league. Savannah’s battle with progress, waged at times against, and at others times, in tandem with, Chatham County and the Metropolitan Planning Council.
Those palm frond sculptures that are pawned off on tourists for a few bucks. The Girl Scouts. Thirteen million tourists.
I will miss men watching football games in their garage. I will miss Salt Life stickers. I will miss red Ford trucks. I will miss that John Barrow commercial where he pumps his shotgun.
I will miss voting, where finding one’s polling place is always a mystery. I will miss seeing Bill Dawers everywhere and Jane Fishman’s guerilla gardens. I will miss the excitement of the film festival. I will miss high school football and basketball games. I will miss marching bands.
I will miss when Coca-Cola is pronounced CoCola. I will miss the way Tom Kohler pulls the hair on his arm when he talks to you.
I’ll miss these things and so much more.
To say I will miss you, Savannah, is an understatement. To say that I completely understand you, Savannah, is just plain wrong.
Until we meet again, please refrain from moving too fast. Please contain the urge to turn your urban core into a Disney world. Please don’t govern yourself into a place that 20-somethings wouldn’t want to call home. And don’t forget, Savannah, you are who you are because of where you have been.
Progress brought us to this point; where will progress take us?
Jake Hodesh is the executive director of The Creative Coast, a not-for-profit organization that promotes the creative and entrepreneurial community within the region, but he’s leaving for a position in Cincinnati. Until he leaves, Jake can be reached at 912-447-8457 or jake@thecreativecoast.org.