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The Sylvania Times
Wednesday, April 6, 2022 - Page 3
Editorial
From the
Editor’s Desk
-Joe Brady
The Sylvania Times,
Editor
I am 52 years old,
and I have never had
a cavity. I have never
had a tooth abscess
or even a toothache.
Even though grow
ing up I could have
eaten briers through
a fence, yes, my teeth
were beyond bucked, I
have never been affected by tooth decay. Now, I did
wear braces for 8 solid years of my life and went to
the dentist once a month for every one of those 8
years. So last week as we were eating with the kids,
I was a bit shocked when I took a bite of my salad
to feel something not quite right. Having never
had a toothache, I was confused. Oh my gosh, that
is like the worst pain! Everybody thought I was
angry because I stopped talking and stopped eating.
That night in the bed, I was in complete agony.
Sleep was not coming to me, and my jaw throbbed
with an unmistakable pain. I used an ice pack,
took Tylenol, a warm rag. Oh, for some relief. The
next morning, I don’t mind telling y’all, I looked
like that boy on Mask in that movie Cher made
back in the 80’s. Now, if you didn’t know this, Em
vain. Let’s don’t forget that Mary Mons was my
grandmother, Miss Jenkins County of 1940, and
buyer of age-defying makeup at the ripe old age
of 81. This was Friday night y’all, I can’t go to the
auction house looking like that. I had heard about
abscessed teeth; I had never seen one and I refuse
to doctor myself over the internet. I called our local
dentist. “We can see you March 30th, but all of our
emergency appointments are taken.” Ok, maybe
she didn’t understand, I need help like right now! I
could be dead by March 30th, and we won’t even
talk about pre-booked emergency appointments.
So, who do I call? Y’all one of my favorite doc’s is
always good for either a laugh or a prescription. Dr.
Gay calls me in some “bug killers”, his description,
not mine. Well, penicillin doesn’t work fast enough
but at least the pain began subsiding as the auction
started. I felt like everyone was staring at my goose
egg, had I had a veil, I would have worn it, looking
like Jackie Kennedy and all. Of course, one of my
employees, Becky, could be counted on to remind
me just how horrible I looked. Slowly but surely
the pain subsided, and the swelling went down. As
I left the dentist Tuesday, I reflected on the question
they asked me, “Mr. Joe, the tooth has to come out,
do you want to keep it?” Well let me tell you, I re
member Granny’s gall stones sitting in a little glass
bottle on her dresser my entire life. This tooth,
while not a cavity, had decided to abandon me and
on its way out, it has caused me agony. Do I want
it? Grind that sucker up in the garbage disposal was
my suggestion. My other suggestion to the dentist,
“don’t mess with my smile, you know I’m vain!”
That’s all for now, take care!
to the
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Larry’s Lenten Journey
Fifth Week of Lent
“When will I be good
enough?”
One of the practices of
Lent is to examine our
selves and to contemplate
how we go about living
our daily lives. Do I truly
live up to the example that
Christ has set for us? What
do I need to do in order to
do so? What obstacles in
my life prevent me from
doing so? What do I need
to do to get back on track?
When I was raised up in
my small neighborhood
church, I was very much
instilled with the sense that
if I didn’t live a sin-free
life, if I was a back slider,
if I let God down, there
would be no salvation
for me as I was not good
enough. Consequently, I
believed that I was failing
nearly every day due to my
sins.
I grew up in a home
where there was physical
abuse and alcoholism on
my father’s part and un
diagnosed mental illness
on my mother’s. My par
ents were estranged from
one another when I was
12 years old. My father,
a tool and die maker for
the automobile industry,
began to travel for his job,
often being gone for weeks
at a time. He was never
in the picture, and he did
not participate in support
ing the family. As a child,
I thought that this was in
some way my fault. Was
I a good son? What did I
do wrong? Why was I not
good enough?
As I grew older, my par
ents divorced, leaving me
as the teenaged and sole
financial provider for my
mother, my sister, and my
self. Our church turned its
back on my family when
we were most in need. As
a result of that, I turned
from God and the church.
It wasn’t until much later
in life that I found my way
back to faith and to the
church. My second wife
and I began to explore our
faith together. We church
shopped a broad spectrum
of Christian denomina
tions.
During this time in our
lives, I heard a sermon that
changed my life. One Sun
day morning, the pastor
said that he had a seminary
professor who had lost his
wife to illness; this profes
sor confessed to his class
that he no longer had faith.
But, he said, he would
continue to act like he had
faith. He prayed and par
ticipated in chapel with the
students. He continued to
prepare and preach ser
mons. Eventually, through
God’s grace and mercy, he
rediscovered his faith.
This story served as a
focal point for my prayer
life. “Lord, help me to find
my faith and to finally be
good enough,” I prayed.
God answered my
prayers. My wife and I
found our church home,
and during a retreat
weekend I found my
faith. I had been praying
that I might find just a
small kernel of faith, but
God had other things in
mind. I felt as though a
truckload of faith kernels
had been dumped on me.
The certain knowledge
that God, Jesus, and the
Holy Spirit was real, that
I was forgiven, that I was
loved, filled me that day.
I came to realize there
was nothing I could do
to make God love me
any more than He al
ready does. I learned it
is only through God’s
grace, forgiveness, and
love, that I would find
salvation.
By the grace of God, I
am finally good enough!
Ogeechee Ramblings
Scotty Scott
1
Eastern Woodland Indians
in Screven County
Several years ago,
when I was President of
the Georgia Salzburger
Society, there were 23
boxes of “relics” in the
Old Parsonage at Eb-
enezer. I was told they
were from the Silk Fac
tory Dig from the early
1990s. As these boxes
were poked under tables,
and being used by rats,
mice, and cockroaches, I
obviously wanted to find
another home for them.
I talked to archaeolo
gist Billy Brant, the son
of Lisa Johnson Guidos,
who in turn, put me in
touch with one of his
collegeaues.
This lady come over to
Ebenezer to start explor
ing these boxes and the
paperwork in them. Af
ter an hour or so of pok
ing around, she informed
me that these were not
from the Silk Factory
Dig, but from the Thal-
man Line Cut, a 50,000
volt powerline which
goes through Screven
County. After much re
search and phone calls
I discovered yet another
archaelogist, Dan Elliot.
This dig was the first
Dan supervised, and the
one in which he’d met
his wife, Rita. The El
liotts involved Georgia
Southern University and
the university is now in
possession of not only
those 23 boxes, but 42
more from the same dig.
The Chair of the Ar-
chaelogy Department at
GSU informed me that
one of the most pristine
areas in the Eastern U.S.
for Indian artifacts are
on both sides of Brier
and Beaverdam Creeks.
From research by vari
ous people over the
years, Screven County
was pretty much in the
center of the Muskogean
Creek Empire, and it was
thanks to one of their
main tribes, the Yuchi
or Uchee Indians, that
our early German set
tlers were able to make
it here. I’d always won
dered about the strange
ness of the name “Haga
Slaga” and remember
wondering if it was Ger
man or Danish for “safe
slough”, but nope! It’s
a Creek word meaning
“place of manufacture”,
where the Creeks, Yu-
chis, etc. and neighbor
ing tribes would come to
chip mica and slate into
arrowheads, while en
gaging in trade with one
another.
Though the GSU Ar-
chaelogy Department
is now in possession
of those boxes of arti
facts, they are still the
property of the Geor
gia Salzburger Soci
ety, and they can be
loaned out as needed
to various historical
organizations in our
area. So, if the Brier
Creek Battlefield ever
achieves National
Park status, and a mu
seum is erected, then
they have a plethora of
Native American ar
tifacts to start with. I
know that I’d go look
and see them again.
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