Augusta, Georgia Revisited

Spring, pre-Easter, brings unstable weather particularly in upstate Georgia. Severe thunderstorms rolling through as cold and warm fronts meet progressing to tornado watches and warnings. Sorta like early autumn brings hurricanes to our coast. Have lived through many harrowing experiences with hurricanes but I feel more comfortable, maybe familiar is a better word, with those threats than the uncertainty of a first tornado experience. No lengthy warning time with tornadoes. Monday night was severe weather that almost instantly brought ‘The Night the Lights went out in Georgia.’ We had no power until the next day, minor since six people lost their lives in the area. My battery operated emergency high powered light enabled me to check for any debris (from within the safety of my home) when a nearby transformer exploded and intermittently check for any visible Georgia Power crews. Nothing from either. Got bored with that but noticed an interesting fact in the high beam of my flashlight: my house is filthy everywhere. I don’t see it in the daylight or with my predominant fluorescent lighting so I was shocked. That discovery led me to go out after the storms passed and buy an electric, vacuum broom. My floors are all new within the last two years and I thought those easy, convenient swiffers were keeping them clean. Not so! Hmm… what is my problem that with a storm like that I focus on the cleanliness of my house? The best news is my seemingly forest has reappeared as vast and green as a barrier against a busy intersection. Georgia’s pleasant spring event, The Masters golf tournament began… delaying my usual, already-too-late-at-night Craig Ferguson show. Having spent ten plus years in Augusta I’ve never looked back, not even at Master’s time. Since it was watch The Masters or do something productive, I watched. Made me all nostalgic. The picture of the course may look like a staged production but it really is at least as beautiful as the cameras show. My friends the late Helen and Forest Boshears lived adjoining it and during Masters had a week long Open-House for friends. Their drop-in guests, Southern style, didn’t arrive empty handed so there were always wonderful dishes and liquid refreshments. Their comfortably convenient shelter was welcoming if the weather or tournament play got dreary. Good times! At the Boshears’ you met new people from all over the globe since Forest was in Aviation. Must share Forest’s experience when he, hard of hearing like most aviation pioneers, got a loud radio call at Daniel Airfield in Augusta that he manned, often alone. The call was, “Look outside.” When Forest opened the hangar door from his small office, he gasped at the plane that was inches from the hangar door complete with skid marks. The 747’s pilot had mistaken Daniel Field for the Augusta Airport. No damage or injury but the national media had a field day.Last time I attended a happy event in Augusta it was at the signature Green Jacket the closest establishment on Washington Road to Magnolia Lane. It had sadly gone out of business as its former self and was then a Special Events site.