In memory of the victims of 9/11

I knew the time was coming for me to leave Beyond the Crossroads and spent time over how to end my time here. Last year this time, I participated in the 2,996 we will never forget. It was my pleasure to share with you Shimmy D. Biegeleisen, you can find that post here. It is six years later as we approach the day the world changed. So much has taken place since that day but so many things remain unchanged. We are very deep in a war but one that is not directed at the terrorist who brought so much vastation to us on September 11, 2001. I recently became aware of so much more about Shimmy and I would like to share it with you.

What I am about to share was written by a very kind man who was a friend to many of Shimmy’s friend. If you would like to see the article in full you can find it here. I know how some people are, they never click to the link mentioned and because I want to share more about Shimmy I am going to share most of it.

Exactly one month after the 9/11 attacks, the Wall Street Journal published an article about five of the victims. I didn’t know any of the 9/11 victims personally, but I knew friends and relatives of several of them. Several of my friends knew Shimmy Biegeleisen HY”D, whose family owns a well-known Jewish book store in New York. This is Shimmy’s story, excerpted from the Wall Street Journal article. I cannot think of a more appropriate way to remember on the Yahrtzeit of the 9/11 victims:

FIVE FLOORS ABOVE, Shimmy Biegeleisen phoned his wife from his office at money-management firm Fiduciary Trust International Inc. “There’s been an explosion next door,” the 42-year-old vice president said. “Don’t worry. I’m OK.”

After a few minutes, Mr. Biegeleisen grabbed his black canvas bag, walked past a cluster of cubicles and headed toward the stairwell. But when he reached the doorway — a step behind a project manager who worked for him — he stopped, leaned his big body against the open metal door and rummaged through his bag. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’s not important,” the manager told her boss. “Please come.” She started down the stairs.

…

THE WORD “FIDUCIARY” filled the caller-ID panel on the kitchen phone in the Biegeleisen home in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn. Miriam Biegeleisen knew it was her husband calling again from his office. “I love you,” he told her.

He hadn’t made it to the stairs when the wings of the second jet ripped diagonally through the south tower just four floors below Mr. Biegeleisen’s cubicle. Fire engulfed the tower’s stairwells. Mr. Biegeleisen was trapped.

Mrs. Biegeleisen handed the phone to Dovid Langer, a friend who volunteered for an ambulance service and had run over when he heard that ambulances had been dispatched to the towers.

“Dovid,” Mr. Biegeleisen told him, “take care of Miriam and take care of my children.” Mr. Langer heard a recording in the background saying over and over that the building was secure and that people should stay put. (A Port Authority spokesman said, “We are not aware of any recorded announcement made by building management.”) Mr. Biegeleisen continued: “Dovid, I’m not coming out of this.”

Mr. Langer connected Mr. Biegeleisen to Gary Gelbfish, a vascular surgeon and friend who was watching the towers burn on TV. “I’m having difficulty breathing,” Mr. Biegeleisen told him. Black smoke was filling the room.

“You’ve got to do two things,” the doctor said. “Stay low to the ground. And do you have a towel or a rag? Put water on it and put it over your mouth.” Twin

Mr. Biegeleisen walked past three cubicles to the water cooler. He wet a towel and raised it to his mouth. Then he walked back to his desk and lay down on the slate blue carpet in his black suede shoes, black pants, oxford shirt and black felt yarmulke. Mr. Biegeleisen was a Chassid, a devoted follower of the Belzer Rebbe, the leader of a rabbinic dynasty that dates to 1815.

“Is there a sprinkler?” Dr. Gelbfish asked. Mr. Biegeleisen looked up but couldn’t see through the smoke. He and the five colleagues trapped alongside him decided to try to get to the roof. Mr. Biegeleisen hung up the phone.

…

THE PHONE RANG in the Biegeleisen home. Again, “FIDUCIARY” flashed on the display. The intense heat had kept Shimmy Biegeleisen from reaching the roof. “We couldn’t even go into the hallway,” he said into the phone.

The Biegeleisen home was filling with worried friends and neighbors. Women clustered in the living room, trying to calm Mrs. Biegeleisen. Men paced in the kitchen, taking turns speaking to her husband. One phoned 911. They waited while Mr. Biegeleisen tried again to reach the roof.

He didn’t make it. At 9:45, he phoned home again. “Promise me you’ll look after Miriam,” he told one of his friends. “Tell Miriam I love her.” Lying on the floor beneath photographs of his five children that sat atop his filing cabinet, he now spoke of them and gave instructions for handling his finances.

Mr. Biegeleisen and his 19-year-old son Mordechai were supposed to travel in five days to Jerusalem to spend the Jewish new year with the Belzer Chassidim and meet with the Belzer Rebbe. Mr. Biegeleisen made the trip every few years at Rosh Hashanah. Most inspiring to him was the second night of the holiday, when the Rebbe read aloud the 24th Psalm.

Now, in a voice hoarse with smoke, Mr. Biegeleisen began to recite that psalm in Hebrew over the phone: “Of David a Psalm. The Lord’s is the earth and its fullness …”

The friend on the phone began to shake. He handed the phone to another friend, who urged Mr. Biegeleisen to break a window. “You can get some air and go to the roof,” the friend said. Mr. Biegeleisen called out to a colleague. “Let’s go! Let’s break the window!” At 9:59, the two men hauled a filing cabinet to the window. “I’m looking out the window now,” Mr. Biegeleisen said into the phone. Then he screamed: “Oh God!” The line went dead.

…

SEVEN DAYS AFTER her husband’s phone line went dead, Miriam Biegeleisen stood in synagogue on Rosh Hashanah murmuring a prayer about God and fate: “How many will pass from the earth and how many will be created. Who will live and who will die. … Who by water and who by fire.”

By tradition, she and her family would have begun their shiva, the weeklong mourning period for her husband, the day after his death. But no body had been found, and the Biegeleisens for days had held on to hope that Shimmy was alive. Now Shimmy’s father decided that they were ready to mourn. Before they could, it had to be established that Mrs. Biegeleisen wasn’t an agunah.

In Jewish law, an agunah is a woman who is separated from her husband and cannot remarry, either because he won’t grant her a divorce or because it isn’t known whether he is alive or dead. With no trace of a body, a rabbinic court must rule whether death can be assumed.

Minutes after Rosh Hashanah ended, Mr. Biegeleisen’s father phoned Efraim Fishel Hershkowitz in Brooklyn. The 76-year-old rabbi said he would convene with two other rabbis to decide the case at once. He asked that the men who had spoken to Mr. Biegeleisen on the day he disappeared come to the rabbi’s home. He also wanted a tape of the 911 call.

…

THREE RABBIS and six of Shimmy Biegeleisen’s friends gathered at the home of Rabbi Hershkowitz on Thursday, Sept. 20. It was the Fast of Gedalia, so the men sat down at the dining-room table with empty stomachs. The rabbis wore the long ear-locks, long black coats and wide-brim velvet hats of their European predecessors.

One of them opened a copy of the Yiddish newspaper Blat to a sequence of photographs of the towers’ end. In Yiddish, the rabbis discussed various logistics of the case: the floors the planes hit, how and when the buildings fell, the intensity of the fire, where Mr. Biegeleisen lay, what he said on the phone. They spoke with Mr. Biegeleisen’s friends about the phone call — and about Mr. Biegeleisen — then asked them to wait outside.

The rabbis deliberated for 10 minutes. Caller-ID repeatedly placed Mr. Biegeleisen at his Fiduciary office. The building fell at the precise moment Mr. Biegeleisen screamed. Mr. Biegeleisen’s relationship with the Belzer Rebbe attested to his character. They cited a case, in a 16th-century book of Jewish law, of a furnace of fire from which there is no escape. Mr. Biegeleisen’s was just such a case, they said. His death could be assumed. Mrs. Biegeleisen was not an agunah. The mourning could begin.

One of the rabbis went to the Biegeleisen home. He took a razor from his pocket and made cuts in the clothing of the male mourners — on the left for Mr. Biegeleisen’s three sons, on the right for his brother and father. Mrs. Biegeleisen, standing by the kitchen, said, “Is the psak [ruling] final?” It was. “It’s over,” she thought. “Shimmy is not coming back.”

…

AN ORTHODOX JEWISH woman came to the Biegeleisen home on Sunday, Sept. 23, the fourth day of shiva. Mrs. Biegeleisen, following Jewish law, sat on a low, hard chair. She didn’t know the woman visitor, who said, “My husband was also there.” Mrs. Biegeleisen understood that the woman had not yet been allowed to mourn. She was as yet an agunah.

For Mrs. Biegeleisen, knowing that she could remarry was hardly a comfort. “It’s not something I’m thinking of,” she said, her covered hair and engagement ring evidence of her 20 years of marriage. “When you live with only one person, it’s all you know.”

…

SHIMMY BIEGELEISEN’S FAMILY had almost finished mourning him when the phone rang. On the line was the Belzer Rebbe, Issachar Dov Rokeach, calling from Jerusalem.

Mr. Biegeleisen’s wife, five children, parents, brother and sister scurried upstairs to a closed room. They encircled a phone and put it on speaker. The 53-year-old Rebbe spoke quietly in Yiddish. He asked for the men and boys, one by one, and recited to each the Hebrew verse traditionally spoken to mourners: “May the Omnipresent console you among the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.”

Finished, the Rebbe said, “There are no words.” A dial tone reverberated in the room as the family echoed him, over and over: “There are no words. There are no words. There are no words.” -

I will share no more here at Beyond the Crossroads and this seemed a very appropriate way to end my time than here. Sharing more of one of the 2,996 Memorial, the one I honored last year. We will never forget—-I will never forget my time spent sharing with you here.

Your Gift

Your Gift

I’m not rich in material things, yet I have a little to give
Small things in life I like, monetary things are not important
This gift is special , I hope you accept it and feel its wealth
Your gift will not be wrapped; I want you to see it in its glory

Wrapping would ruin its special effect
Here I stand before you; unashamed, as you have taught me
Unclothed and naked for all to see
You own part of me, the piece that is my heart

My soul is no longer mine and has not been for a while
Willingly, happily and lovingly
I give to you myself.
To hold and feel

Breathing is difficult; as our hearts beat a special tune of love
Each beat is stronger—pounding
Nothing other than our feelings can be felt
We hear only our hearts beat of love

I am giving you this gift, because I can so look inside
Tenderly slowly and lovingly you begin to search inside
Quickly almost in a frenzy, you explore your gift
Holding it gently in the palm of your hand

Wet and juicy just like a fruit
Sweet and succulent, not like candy
Juices flow like a river running along a lush meadow
Flowers blossom with a radiance I can’t describe

Your gift opens not like a bud, but like a flower in the morning dew
You caress my flower not in the frenzy of not knowing
But with the understanding of what my gift has offered you
Once the gift is opened, you will never get enough or let me go

VDS 8-13-07

Hot as “Hell” and Missy

I think I took a trip to hell Wednesday—-You know the expression everybody in “hell” wants ice water—-That is how I knew I took a trip to hell—-I wanted ICE WATER—-and not to drink—-I wanted to swim in it—-It is that hot here—-and Missy knows it—-not just me.

Should I whine—bitch and complain—-You bet I would if I thought it would help—-but I know it will do nothing for me and I’ll have others feeling pretty bad—We all know I don’t want that—- So there is no Whining!—-Just sharing my life—–The Good The Bad and The Indifferent—-

Well right now if I were to classify things I would say—-oh you decide that one—

I try very hard not to complain but from time to time I have an occasional pity me moment and I travel to the basement—usually it is direct reflections on my health—Missy (Multiple Sclerosis) rears her head.

I know many people have health issues much worse than mine; I know I am fortunate—

However—-you are about to receive a little education on Missy and my life as it is right now—

Remember I am not whining I am teaching—-

For many with multiple sclerosis (MS), the approach of summer fills them with anxiety. Hot weather means MS symptoms and, well, suffering. As most people are going outside to enjoy the hot weather, I am drawing the blinds and resigning myself to cleaning out closets and reading novels. Even vacations are a challenge, I look for places where it will be cooler or for “adventures” that take place in air-conditioned coolness.

Heat intolerance in MS shows up as a “pseudo exacerbation” — the experience of having symptoms appear or worsen due to heat exposure. This is different than a true relapse. In the case of a pseudo exacerbation, when the body’s temperature returns to normal, these symptoms disappear. No damage, such as inflammation, demyelization or new lesions, has been done during these pseudo exacerbations.

What Does It Feel Like?

Heat intolerance is felt as increased symptoms, such as:

* Decreased cognitive function
* Numbness in the extremities
* Fatigue
* Blurred vision, known as Uhthoff’s sign
* Tremor
* Weakness
* Dizzy
* Pain

Really, any MS symptoms can be much worse in the heat. Sometimes, symptoms appear that we might not have felt before, which is the result of a lesion in a corresponding area of the brain or spinal cord that was slight enough that it did not cause a relapse or symptoms dramatic enough to notice. For instance, Uhthoff’s sign refers to blurred vision as a result of heat exposure. This is caused by a lesion on the optic nerve, known as optic neuritis. However, many people that experience Uhthoff’s sign never had classic symptoms of optic neuritis and may be unaware that they ever had it until the appearance of Uhthoff’s sign.

Heat intolerance differs for people in terms of:

* Threshold: Some people can be just fine taking a brisk walk in 90-degree weather, as long as they avoid the sun and drink cold beverages. Others start feeling symptoms at much lower temperatures and with much less activity.
* Severity and type of symptoms: Again, depending on the person, symptoms can range from annoying (such as tingling in the feet) or debilitating (such as crushing fatigue or severe weakness).
* Length of time to resolve symptoms: While all symptoms that are results of heat intolerance should resolve once body temperature returns to normal, this takes longer for some people.

What Causes Heat Intolerance?

People with MS have plaques on our nerves where demyelization has taken place. This slows the ability of the nerves to function, and heat further slows down nerve impulse transmission in demylinated regions. Even a very slight increase of as little as one-quarter to one-half a degree in the body’s core temperature is enough to cause symptoms of heat intolerance.

How Common Is Heat Intolerance?

While I don’t have an exact statistic on this, I can say that most of us are sensitive to the heat. For many years, the “hot bath test” was used to diagnose MS. A person suspected of having MS was immersed in a hot tub of water, and watched to see if neurological symptoms appeared or got worse, which would earn them a diagnosis of MS. (This practice was stopped when MRIs came on the scene, but is still practiced in some countries where MRIs are not readily accessible.)

How Severe Can It Get?

For some people, heat intolerance can be debilitating enough that they are unable to function well at even slightly elevated temperatures and must consider moving to a cooler geographic location. Deaths have even been reported among people with MS who were sunbathing or relaxing in hot tubs and presumably lost the ability to get out of the heat. A slight fever with an illness can be very devasting.

Additional Points:

There are some people who are more sensitive to cold than to heat, and their symptoms - especially spasticity - worsen in cold temperatures. Some of us unlucky people with MS are sensitive to both cold and heat, usually with different symptoms appearing under different temperature extremes.

And now—-drum roll—this is all about me—and Missy.

It started out innocently enough — a short trip to the grocery store with my husband. We left early in the morning to avoid the heat as much as possible. OK, so maybe it was already in the 80’s it was only 8 AM—and I’m not a morning person. Still, I thought I was prepared for the effect the heat would have on me. I dressed in cool clothes and took one frozen bottle of water with me.

By the time I walked from the SUV to the store—even though I was parked in a reserved parking spot—for those that are able-bodied like me, I knew I was poorly prepared for what the heat was doing to me. My feet and lower legs felt so heavy, it began to feel like I was walking through knee-deep mud. I felt my old friend, the MS hug tightening around my ribs and making it difficult to breathe. Even my hearing started fading in and out, like a bad cell phone connection. I’m nauseated, numb in many areas and my vision is blurring—and getting wacky on me. All of this is also causing some dizziness.

We finally get inside, where the air conditioning is blasting. I grab a scooter knowing this is the only way any shopping will be done. Within just a few minutes of being inside the cool environment and heading to buy a bottle of water things started to come back into focus. A few minutes later, I tell myself I can do it—I can do it.

Hubby is saying are you sure you can do this—I’m thinking to myself—I can do it —I can do it—just like the little engine that could—I was going to do it. Moving as quickly as possible to get all we have on the list—-things begin to get a little dark and I go very white—needless to say it was time for the shopping to abruptly end.

When it was time to leave, my husband offered to go get the SUV and bring it to the door to pick me up. Interestingly, I felt this way the whole way home. I guess I had not sufficiently cooled down and that the heat had affected my core temperature.

I wish I could find a way to accept my limitations graciously, but I will be one of the first to acknowledge all I manage to do is get really pissed off. This is something I can not change and I waste time dwelling on it at times—-like right now. I hate that I can not ignore Missy and do things I want—which are not as much as it was at one time—I just want to enjoy life—a normal one. I hate that the fatigue, the decreased cognitive function, the numbness in my extremities, the blurred vision, the tremors, the dizziness, the pain —well I hate what Missy does to me.

I twill take me days or weeks to get to an even keel and I might not get all the way back where I was. The thing I hate most is seeing the worry in my husband’s eyes when I fall down because I have no sensory input telling my leg is twisted and not going to hold me up or when I try to talk and the wrong things come out because I can not think of what the words are—or I just forget in the middle what I was saying.

I think I will stay at home—where it is air conditioned in front of a fan—even with the air conditioning blasting— it is hot as “hell”—and I am not feeling energized and gleeful—-not at all like a long haired dog being let out—to sniff the air and wagging from side to side, forward and backward, or up and down—-rapidly and repeatedly—-No I don’t feel like that long haired dog but right now I might look like one.

For now I think I’ll just look out the window at the shimmering heat—and hope this passes soon—because I have a life I need to get back to. Part of the life I need to get back to is here with you my friends. So if you don’t see me around—know it is still hot as “hell” and I’m doing the best I can.

By now most of you know I return —-I hope it will be sooner than later but it has taken me hours to type this so until I am feeling like that dog—-energized—-instead I am drained— and if the heat is not enough today my chemotherapy was increased.

Tree Spirits

In exploring St. Simons Island, it’s possible, if you look closely at the majestic oak trees that cover the island, you might actually catch them looking back at you.
There, peering out from the trunk, from between two huge branches or from the stub of a long-vanished branch, you may see the unmistakable image of a weathered face.

These are the lovingly carved faces, Tree Spirits of St. Simons Island emerging from the trees. The images, created by skilled hands immortalize the countless sailors who lost their lives at sea aboard the mighty sailing ships that were once made from St. Simons Island oak.
Their sad, sorrowful expressions seem to reflect the grieving appearance of the trees themselves with their drooping branches and moss hanging limply down to the ground.

Have you ever visited a place many times—-loved the place but never paid attention to its history—yet it is all around you—well I have.
I have no idea the number of times I have visited St. Simons Island and never knew—about the spirits that existed there—not just any spirits—-and by no means am I talking about the spirits that come from the bottle—you know strong distilled alcoholic liquor but we have a lot of that there—-I am talking about the tree spirits.
I know I hear you now—-What are tree spirits?
The question is best not answered by me in my soft sweet southern drawl but in the voice of a gruff old man who speaks with a distinct Gullah dialect—-and this is his story:

“Tree Spirits, they are all over the island.
Hundreds of ships were built from St. Simons oak but the sea winds were unkind to those ships. The faces in the trees are the faces of the tree spirits who never left the island but grieve for those that were lost at sea.
They stand as a warning that if you take wood away from St. Simons, the wind will make you pay.

Watch for the face carved in the tree, but do not look back.
It is bad luck to look back at the face of a tree spirit.”

In exploring St. Simons Island, it’s possible, if you look closely at the majestic oak trees that cover the island, you might actually catch them looking back at you.
There, peering out from the trunk, from between two huge branches or from the stub of a long-vanished branch, you may see the unmistakable image of a weathered face.

These are the lovingly carved faces, Tree Spirits of St. Simons Island emerging from the trees. The images, created by skilled hands immortalize the countless sailors who lost their lives at sea aboard the mighty sailing ships that were once made from St. Simons Island oak.
Their sad, sorrowful expressions seem to reflect the grieving appearance of the trees themselves with their drooping branches and moss hanging limply down to the ground.

These carvings are the creations of North Carolina sculptor, Keith Jennings.
He has carved faces into tree hollows on the stumps of long ago severed branches and into the heart of the oak. A look at the “Tree Spirits” will have you coming away thinking about the resigned expressions of doomed men peering sightlessly from the branches—the images will be etched in your memory forever—haunting images—-the “Tree Spirits”

Oh they might have you looking “back” to see is the front and the back the same—the beginning and the end (sort of)—just remember don’t look back at the face of a tree spirit—it is bad luck. No you were not indulging in the spirits—-it is the same.

Yes I do love Georgia—and its history—oh and I love life and having fun.—I know you do as well—

Dreaming of Georgia lighthouses

Did you know many people have dreams that involve lighthouses—-Just what does that mean—I decided to do a little research and see what I might find. It has been said there are two types of means—Psychological and Mystical—here is what I found:

Psychological Meaning: The lighthouse symbolizes guidance. It helps you safely journey the stormy seas of the unconscious. Consider what it is that has helped you. Perhaps you have met someone in waking life who has guided you or have discovered a philosophy or religion to light your way and keep you off the rocks of despair.

Mystical Meaning: You will have many new opportunities to chose from say the oracles.

You never know but to see a lighthouse in a dream just might mean—you are seeking guidance during your times of hardships and turmoil—oh and if you see yourself in a dream this might just be a reflection of how you act and behave in your waking life—

Now that I have your attention once again, I am about to complete my Georgia tour—with the last installment about Georgia lighthouses.—So here we go—

Sapelo Island Lighthouse

During the early nineteenth century, the small seaport of Darien, Georgia, was a major shipping center. A deed signed and dated in 1808 by plantation owner Thomas Spalding showed that Spalding sold a small tract of land to the U.S. Lighthouse Establishment for a sum of one dollar for building a lighthouse on Sapelo. The government then contracted with Winslow Lewis of Boston in 1820 for the construction of a 90-foot brick tower, topped by a 15-foot iron lantern. A fourth-order Fresnel lens was installed atop the tower in 1853. The lighthouse was abandoned in 1862 by retreating Confederate forces stationed on the island. They removed the lens and destroyed the reflector system but left the rest of the facility intact. It was repaired and reactivated by the U.S. Lighthouse Service in 1868. In 1877 a cast-iron beacon, part of the range light system, was placed east of the main tower.

A severe hurricane in October 1898 seriously undermined the foundation of the Sapelo Lighthouse. A district inspector recommended extensive repairs or a new tower. In September 1905 a new lighthouse—a 100-foot steel pyramidal tower with a kerosene-lit flashing light—was activated and a new third-order lens was installed. By 1934 shipping traffic had become nonexistent and the Sapelo station was deactivated. Today, the lighthouse is fully restored and open to the public.

St. Simons Island Lighthouse

Built by James Gould in 1810, the first St. Simons Lighthouse stood 75 feet high. For economic reasons, most of the material used in the construction was tabby, a local mixture of oyster shell, lime, sand, and water. Gould, appointed by President James Madison, was also the first lighthouse keeper. In 1857 a third-order double-convex lens was installed.

Confederate troops destroyed the lighthouse before evacuating St. Simons Island in 1862, so that Union troops could not use it as a navigational aid. In 1867 the government ordered the construction of a second lighthouse placed north of the first. The 104-foot brick tower and adjacent keeper’s house was designed by the Irish architect Charles B. Cluskey, who died of malaria in 1871, a year before the lighthouse was completed. The head light keeper, his assistant, and their families shared the dwelling.

The lighthouse was electrified in 1934. It was completely automated in 1953. The original third-order Fresnel lens is still in operation. The station, maintained by the Coastal Georgia Historical Society, is open to the public. Oh Monica just so you know—the Gazebo can be rented for a wedding—just saying!

The Little Cumberland Island Lighthouse is located on the northern tip of Little Cumberland Island in St. Andrew Sound. The tower, built in 1838 by John Hastings of Boston, measures 22 feet wide at the base, tapering to 11 feet wide at the top. Although rarely used during the Civil War, the lighthouse on Little Cumberland escaped the devastation experienced by some of the other Georgia lighthouses at the time. In 1867 it was reactivated after being fitted with a third-order Fresnel lens.

Nine years later, workmen began to shore up the lighthouse tower foundation, which had been undermined by ocean tides. Active until 1915, Little Cumberland Island Light is now owned and preserved by a private foundation.

I hope you have enjoyed this tour and with my next post I will return to the Regular scheduled program—whatever that might be.

Touring Georgia’s Shining lights

What’s Not to Love about a Lighthouse? Whether it’s for their beauty, romance or usefulness - or a combination of all three - most of us would admit to a fascination with Lighthouses. Come along celebrate Georgia’s treasured coastal beacons and explore the nature of my love and fascination with them.

The Lighthouse

The sea is calm tonight,
Only the gentle pound of waves
On breakers far offshore
Carries on the wind.
The new moon rising
Gives way to a lighthouse beacon
In search of the lost.
Finding only gentle swells of
An ocean at peace, if not at rest.

My soul is calm tonight,
Only the gentle thoughts of days
On good ships far offshore
Carries me again,
The new moon rising
Gives way to paths not taken
Sweeping the darkness
In search of the coast,
Finding only gentle tales of
An ocean at peace, if not at rest.

Author unknown

Tybee Island—-This light station, the oldest in the South and second oldest in the nation, was established less than four years after the colony of Georgia was founded.—Active; focal plane 144 ft ; continuous white light. 145 ft tapered octagonal brick tower attached to workroom; upper and lower portions painted black, center white. The 1° Fresnel lens has been in use since 1867. The lower section of the lighthouse incorporates 60 ft of the 100 ft octagonal tower built in 1773. A major restoration in 1998 restored the tower to its original appearance and its 1916 day mark. A remarkably well preserved light station with three keeper’s houses and other historic buildings; the restoration of these buildings is continuing. The 1881 principal keeper’s house has been restored recently and furnished as a museum. The second assistant keeper’s house was built in 1861 as a Confederate Army barracks. The brick summer kitchen, built in 1812, is the oldest building preserved. Ownership of the station was transferred to the Tybee Island Historical Society in 2002 under the National Historic Lighthouse Preservation Act. In 2004, volunteers helped paint the lighthouse. Located on the south side of the Savannah River entrance, off US 80 in Tybee Island. Site and tower open daily (admission fee for buildings).

Cockspur Island—-Located two miles west of Tybee Island Lighthouse on Cockspur Island, the first Cockspur Lighthouse was built in 1849 and used to mark the entrance to the south channel of the Savannah River. This structure proved inadequate and was rebuilt in 1857. A twin channel-beacon was constructed at the same time on the north channel of the Savannah River. Built of Savannah gray brick, the lighthouse was fitted with a fourth-order Fresnel lens and illuminated by a sperm oil lamp. Unlike many lighthouses of the South, this small beacon received only minor damage during the Civil War. After the war, the light resumed operation until 1909, when ships with deep drafts were no longer able to use the south channel. The U.S. Coast Guard abandoned the property in 1949, and control was transferred to the National Park Service. 46 ft round brick tower with lantern and gallery, painted white. The keeper’s house (formerly located at Fort Pulaski) has been destroyed. The tower is a reconstruction of the 1849 tower. Despite being transferred to the National Park Service in 1958, the lighthouse was long endangered by high water and years of neglect. A Park Service restoration project completed in 2000 has addressed most of the tower’s problems, but it remains vulnerable to wave damage during hurricanes or other severe storms. In March 2007 the park service relit the lighthouse. Located on a sandbar, nearly covered by water at high tide, on the north side of the entrance to the south channel of the lower Savannah River. Accessible only by boat;, but tours from Tybee Island provide a good view of the lighthouse. Site and tower open. Owner: U.S. National Park Service. Site manager:

Savannah Harbor Range Rear (Beacon Range, Old Harbor Light)—-Ornate 25 ft cast iron tower, decorative, rather like a giant streetlight, painted dark green. This structure is not a lighthouse, but it is a unique and historic light tower built by the U.S. Lighthouse Board. Originally it was the rear light of a range, the front light being on Fig Island downstream. In 1999 the Savannah Morning News and CSX Real Property contributed $125,000 to restore the rusting tower as part of a larger city effort to spruce up historical monuments. The restoration began in August 2000 and the light was relit January 11, 2001. Located in Savannah’s Emmet Park, off East Bay Street. Site open. Owner/site manager: City of Savannah.

The tour of Georgia’s Shining Lights will continue for one more stop here—-and then Beyond the Crossroads will return to its regular schedule—

Georgia’s Shining Lights

It is not so easy to define exactly what we mean by a lighthouse, and various organizations and individuals have used very different definitions when describing or classifying lighthouses. Clearly, all lighthouses are lighted aids to navigation, but not all lighted aids are considered to be lighthouses.

Some definitions are not controversial. An aid to navigation is a structure placed on or near navigable water to provide visual guidance to mariners. A beacon is an aid to navigation that is fixed in place (that is, not floating). A lighted beacon or light beacon is a beacon displaying a light, while an unlit beacon is called a day beacon. Often, a lighted beacon is simply called a light.

A lighthouse does not have any particular form or appearance. The structure of a lighthouse may be enclosed, partially enclosed, or completely open.

“What is it that draws you to lighthouses?” is a question frequently asked. The answer is a complex mixture of reasons that is perhaps better understood through firsthand experience than through words. Part of the appeal lighthouses have is that they are found in some of the most beautiful settings, often on rugged coastlines dotted with conifers or on sandy beaches lined with palms. Lighthouses can also be found in the remote extremes of the country where a sunset or sunrise over a large body of water can be enjoyed in complete solitude. A perfect viewing platform for these spectacular settings is the walkway encircling the lantern room atop the lighthouse.

Perhaps lighthouses also appeal to our nostalgic and artistic senses as they are some of the most historical structures to be found in the United States, and the architectural detail found in many of them is amazing. Not only were they built to endure the ravages of the elements enhanced by their often exposed locations, but they were also built as monuments to engineering and design. With hewn rock foundations, spiral staircases, sloping conical towers, ornate water spouts, detailed window trimmings, and lantern rooms filled with giant Fresnel lenses and topped by spherical ventilator balls, lighthouses are simply beautiful structures. Witnessing a 1st-order Fresnel lens take the light of a small bulb or flame and shape it into beams of light, extending for miles from the lantern room and rotating like the spokes in a giant wheel, is a breathtaking experience. With its thousands of prisms, the Fresnel lens sits like a diamond at the top of the lighthouse tower.

Yet another reason for the allure found in lighthouses is the multitude of heroic rescues associated with them. Though many lighthouse keepers viewed their position merely as an isolating, low-paying job, for others it was seen as a chance to be of true service. Their devotion to tending the light, polishing the lens, sounding the fog signal, and assisting in rescues is remarkable.

Whether warning of danger or marking safe passage into a harbor, lighthouses stand as beacons of safety and security. Perhaps it is because of this and the imagery of light that lighthouses seem to appeal to the spiritual side of people, symbolizing He who is “the Light that shineth in darkness” and reminding us that we are also to let our “lights so shine.”

When you think of Georgia you do not think of Lighthouses however you just might change your mind—I will be taking a tour of Georgia’s Lighthouses and sharing a little history as I do. Just maybe I have your interest and you will want to see more about the Georgia Lighthouses—so come on back for a little more.

Are you loving Georgia yet?

Have you fell in love yet—well if not love, have I interested you in the special state I call home? If not maybe you will by the end of this post.—Oh and here is a few interesting facts:

State Abbreviation - GA

State Capital - Atlanta

Largest City - Atlanta

Area - 59,441 square miles (24th biggest state in the USA)

Georgia Population -8,186,453 (as of 2004)

Major Industries - textiles, timber, agriculture

Georgia Rivers - Chattahoochee River, Savannah River, Suwannee River

Georgia Lakes - Lake Sidney Lanier, Clark Hill Lake, West Point Lake, Lake Hartwell

Highest Point - Brasstown Bald - 4,784 feet above sea level

Origin of the Name - named to honor King George II of England State

Nickname - Empire State of the South, Peach State

State Motto - “Wisdom, Justice, and Moderation”

State Song - Georgia on My Mind

So let us head out and see a few more special things about Georgia—the Peach State.

Great Lakes Inland bodies of water from the largest, Lake Sidney Lanier, to contenders such as Clarks Hill, Oconee, Allatoona, West Point, Seminole, and other lakes, offer recreational opportunities.

Stone Mountain Park The world’s largest chunk of exposed granite bears an impressive relief sculpture of three Civil War figures on horses. A special treat—see it during a laser light show.

On Screen Movies Movies such as Forrest Gump, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, Driving Miss Daisy, Fried Green Tomatoes, and Glory show off our camera-ready locales, as do small screen episodes of Matlock and The Dukes of Hazzards.

Batters UP! Georgia claims two of baseball’s greatest. “Hammerin” Hank Aaron of the Atlanta Braves who held the home run record: “The Georgia Peach, “Tye Cobb of the Detroit Tigers, hailed from Royston and funded a hospital there.

Janisse Ray Writing eloquently about ecological subjects, the contemporary author joins the ranks of Carson McCullers, Erskine Caldwell, Flannery O’Conner, and other literary minded Georgians.

Peanuts We eat them roasted, boiled, salted, plain, mixed into hard brittle, and in peanut butter.

Norberto Reyes Recognizing a need in this era of Hispanic immigration, the owner of Los Reyes Mexican Restaurants works to bring bilingual educators into Dalton public schools.

Big Biz Homegrown global entities include Coca-Cola, Delta Air Lines, CNN ( in Atlanta) and Aflac Insurance (in Columbus).

Musical Heritage Athens nightclubs introduce alternative rock Atlanta studio pioneer hip-hop sounds, and rural churches, keep gospel harmonies close to our souls.

Favorite Falls. We like to see rivers leap off cliffs at Amicalola Falls and Anna Ruby Falls and in the Cloudland Canyon and Tallulah George.

Brasstown Bald The highest point in Georgia (elevation 4,784 feet) affords an impressive 360 degree view.

Presidential Connections Woodrow Wilson grew up in Augusta, Franklin Roosevelt vacationed in Warm Springs, and Jimmy Carter still lives in his hometown of Plains.

Wineries A growing number, each unique in character, accent North Georgia and feature tours and tasting.

Causes to Celebrate Special events jam our calendars. Some of the best include Savannah’s St. Patrick’s Day, Macon’s Cherry Blossom Festival, Atlanta’s Dogwood Festival and whatever festival comes wherever you live in Georgia which means for me—–the Vidalia Onion.

and now for two of my favorites—this is for my friend Karen—I bet you did not know we had our own Canyon?

Providence Canyon Called ” Georgia’s Little Grand Canyon” is one of the Seven Natural Wonders of Georgia. The canyon is actually a geologically young feature. It was not here when the first settlers reached the region in the early 1800’s. The story goes that it was formed by a woman throwing her dishwater out into the yard, year after year. That is not quite accurate. The story is a little more complex.

The canyon is a testimony to poor farming practices, which led to runaway soil erosion, and illustrates the need for sound soil conservation practices. When the land was first cleared for agriculture in the early 1800’s, farmers plowed straight up and down the hills. (Contour plowing did not come into fashion until much later). The furrows were a good conduit for rainwater runoff. By 1850, gullies ranging from 3 to 5 feet deep (1 to 2 meters) had begun to appear in the fields. Once gullies appeared, erosion rates accelerated, and the land became useless for farming. The gullies deepened and widened into canyons, which continue to expand.

The rate of downcutting by erosion was calculated to be about 8 inches per year between 1820 and 1930 (based on the total volume of sediment removed by erosion). In addition to downcutting, headward erosion (or erosion at the head of a canyon) caused the canyons to lengthen. Rates of headward erosion were measured from aerial photos. Between 1955 and 1968, the average headward erosion of the canyons was calculated to be about 6 feet (2 m) per year. The softness of the sediments in this area, and poor farming practices led to the severe erosion that formed Providence Canyon.

I know I said this would be my last post sharing about Georgia—the Peach State but just like a female I’ve changed my mind. I’ll close the tour with a surprise for Monica—yes we have lighthouses here. So come on back, bring your peanuts, and enjoy a tour of Georgia’s lighthouses—complete with a little history.

Touring Georgia–Peaches to Beaches–Fountains to Mountains and all in between

Are you loving Georgia yet—if not just wait because there is something for everyone. We have peaches to beaches, fountains to mountains and so many other things—So come along and travel Georgia with me.

Ray Charles I can hardly even think of “Georgia on My Mind” or “What’d I Say?” without hearing the unmistakable cadence of the Albany born musician who explored R & B, soul, jazz, county, and gospel during his long career.

Great Gardens Verdant venues such as Callaway Gardens (Pine Mountain), The State Botanical Garden of Georgia (Athens) Atlanta and Barnsley Gardens (Adairsville) beckon me to slow down and smell the flowers.

Cumberland Island Having Georgia’s largest and most remote coastal island (reached only by ferry) earns National Seashore status makes me extra proud. Sapelo Island ranks high too. For those who are into the Kennedy family, this is where John Jr. chose to have his wedding.

Martha Berry As a teacher, social and founder of Berry College near Rome, she pioneered a move to bring higher education opportunities to everyone.

Halls of Fame Three in Particular- the Georgia Music Hall of Fame and the Georgia Sports Hall of Fame in Macon, plus the Georgia Golf Hall of Fame in Augusta—give us plenty of reasons to crow.

Appalachian Trail The fact that this legendary 2,175- mile footpath begins atop our Springer Mountain impresses those of us who will never attempt the entire trek.

Little Richard The singer famed for “Tuttie Frutti,” “Good Golly, Miss Molly,” and other hits lends his distinct voice to recorded messages at Macon’s visitors center. Get put on hold a 1-800-768-3401 just to hear him rave about his hometown.

Jimmy Carter Farmer, governor, President, and human rights champion, he sets the bar high for making post-Presidential years count toward building a better world.

Chattahoochee River Despite controversies over whom uses its waters and what gets dumped into its flow, this long, rippling ribbon remains one of our most cherished features.

Habitant for Humanity International Headquartered in Americus, this grassroots volunteer effort builds decent houses for the willing-to-work-for-it needy around the glob.

On Track Rail fans flock to two excursions trains— SAM Shortline in Cordele and Blue Ridge Scenic Railway in Blue Ridge— and to a viewing platform in Folkston where scores of trains pass through the Folkston Funnel.

Grand Golf Plenty of fine gold courses dot our state, but none are more venerable than Augusta National, home to the prestigious Masters Tournament.

Lovable Uga English Bulldogs named Uga have long served as mascots for the University of Georgia.

Civil War Sites Visit Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park (our bloodiest battlefield) Andersonville National Historic Site (prisoner war camp).

Pedal Power The Tour de France has nothing on our nearly weeklong 600 mill Tour de Georgia, which benefits the Georgia Cancer Coalition.

Wini McQueen This textile artist creates “talking quilts” that interpret the Civil Rights era on elaborate tapestries exhibited at the Tubman African American Museum in Macon.

Cabbage Patch Kids Once the gotta have gifts for doll-clutching youngsters, the soft-sculpture figures continue to be “born” at “Babyland General Hospital in Cleveland.

Steve Hein Master falconer, noted wildlife artist, director of Georgia Southern University’s Center for Wildlife Education, and founding director of its Lamar Q Ball, Jr. Raptor, Steve is our state’s most engaging authority on birds of prey.

Vidalia Onions They grow only in a 20 county swath of southeastern Georgia, and no others taste as sweet.

I hope I have not been barking up the wrong tree—and caught with your pants down—I did say I would be back with more. So don’t let your mouth overload your tail give me down the country. I do want to know what you think—and I’ll be back one more time and share more about the state that has anything you want—fountains to mountains, peaches to beaches and so much more.

Things I love about Georgia

The Charlie Daniels Band seems to like the South and Georgia—-or if you listen to the lyrics in their music you might think that—-Devil Went Down to Georgia—–The devil went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal.’Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals it hard. We all know the South’s Gonna Do It Again People down in Georgia come from near and far—-and we best not forget The Devil Comes Back to Georgia

I’m Georgia Born, Georia Bread and even Georgia Wed and Very Georgia Proud—-so I think I will share a few :Things I Love About Georgia

The “eighth ocean of the world”, is actually the new Georgia Aquarium where you feel like one of the many fish. Here you find five galleries —- each explores an individual ecosystem. You are up close with rays, shrimp, urchins, whales, sharks, groupers, large tooth saw fish, seals, otters, and even penguins.

Piedmont Park, 185 acres where you find sports trails, sidewalks, lakes, a weekend farmers market, open air concerts, and oh not forget you have one of the best views of the skyline. You might even want to attend the free Bark in the Park concert—where you can bring your pooches and spread blankets on the ground for a night of music by the Atlanta Symphony.

Savannah’s Squares & Parks Settle on a favorite or maybe you might want to enjoy dozens of these pockets of charm where azaleas, live oaks, Spanish moss, monuments, and fountains will wow you.—-Oh and there is always that famous time of the year—you will find nothing but green—St. Patty’s Day or Patrick’s Day if you please.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The inspired Georgia preacher led the Civil Rights Movement toward a new dream of freedom and equality.

See Rock City Fluorescent gnomes and labels such as Fat Man’s Squeeze seem dated, but timeless natural marvels at Rock City on Lockout Mountain still makes jaws drop.

Centennial Olympic Park Rooted in the 1996 Summer Olympic Games, these 21 acres in the heart of our biggest city become a comfortable front porch for countless gatherings.

Peaches I love the fuzz, sweet, juicy orbs fresh picked, baked into cobbler, put up as jam, or canned. So does others to the point that the word peach is used to nickname our state and christen one county, two towns (Peach Orchard and Peachtree City), and numerous roads for them.

The Okefenokee Nowhere else in the world is quite like our sprawling, wildlife-rich swamp, whether it is hiking trails, paddle streams or to get a book of photography and appreciate its mysteries from afar here we have it all. Will it ever be the same, after the threatening the wildfires finally damaged part of it this year?

Turner Field Built for the Olympic Games and home to the Atlanta Braves baseball, this is the premiere sporting palace. Need I remind you who I heart for? If you guessed John Smoltz—you know me well. I even named my child Smoltz—yeah my cat—that is.

I hope you enjoy hearing the things I love most about my state. I’m gonna go hog wild, so come on back and find out more about this state I love. Now don’t go and get your feathers ruffled—just come on back and by the way don’t worry about lettin your mouth overload your tail—cause I like to hear your thoughts. Tell me what you think.