About Lake Oconee news. (Greensboro, GA) 199?-current | View Entire Issue (April 28, 2017)
Friday, April 28,2017 Lake Oconee News Page A5 Letters to the Editor Letters must be signed and include your full address and phone number for verification; only name and town are printed. Submissions may be edited for content and length. The deadline is 1 p.m. Monday. Send to news@lakeoconeenews.us Vince Dooley talks history Artisans Village offers appreciation for support Dear Editor: On behalf of The Artisans Village Board of Direc tors, I would like to extend our deep appreciation to all of the individuals who attended the Grand Opening Reception & Ribbon Cutting of our art gallery at the courthouse last Friday evening. We ap preciated the words of en couragement and support mentioned by so many at tending our reception that evening. For those who could not attend the reception, The Artisans Village Art Gallery is located at 110 West Marion Street on the court house square in downtown Eatonton, directly across the street from the main entrance to the court house. We are open on Thursday 11 a.m. to 6 p.m, Friday 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. and Saturday 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. The Artisans Village is a non-profit arts organiza tion; our vision is to create an artist community in downtown Eatonton. Come discover artwork from over 37 artist from throughout central Georgia, offering a wide variety of art mediums. Looking forward to seeing you all in the gallery! Kevin Tomson-Hooper President - Board of Directors The Artisans Village Community rallies for fourth annual teen maze The Decisions Determine Destinies Teen Maze would not have been possible without the support of so many people and organiza tions. This important event helps intercede in the lives of our youth in a time when they are bombarded with so many negative influences. It takes so many people to put on an event this size, so please forgive me if I overlook anyone, but wed like to publicly thank the following: Morgan County High School and Board of Education, Morgan County Health Depart ment, Morgan Memorial Hospital, National EMS, Air Life Helicopter Service, Morgan County Exten sion/4-H, Morgan County 911 Call Center, Morgan County Court Services, Morgan County Sher iffs Department, City of Madison Police De partment, Georgia State Patrol, Morgan County Fire Department, City of Madison Fire Department, Department of Juvenile Justice, Morgan County Family Connection, coun selors, AE Carter Funeral Home, local churches, First Call Pregnancy Center, Department of Family & Children Services, retail ers: Chick-fil-A of Madison, Wal-Mart, Lowes, Gussies Flowers, Amici, Madison Produce, That Pizza Place, Dart Container Corpora tion, Little Caesars and NuArt Printers. Shannon Cagle Morgan County, 4-H CEPA Bad things happen to good people An honest conversation takes at least two people. One who is willing to tell the truth and one who is willing to hear the truth. Me and the hangover that pulsed through my dehy drated, skinny ass that day in 1990 were not going to be willing participants in such a talk. My ringing ears did not want to hear it, my dry mouth did not want to talk about it. Quiet, except for the sound of the windshield wipers, my young bride, Hannah, sat quietly in the front seat as I raced down the left hand lane of 1-10 across the Florida panhan dle. Passing truckers and tourist as if there was a prize for coming in first, I said to myself, “Just get me back to Jacksonville.” We were returning from a newspaper convention at some swanky resort on the gulf. A typical gathering with typical activities; awards and seminars, banquets and open bars. It was people in the industry convened to talk about what they do, how they do it and why they are the best. Such is also the opportunity to laugh and indulge with friends, enjoy a few as reward for hard work. And to top it all off, ask any conventioneer, the last night is always THE last night. I remember leaning against the doorway to our hotel room trying to get the key in the door. I had sand in my hair and clothes and it was well closer to sunrise than sunset. Hannah did not say much. I had insisted on going out with my friends, after all it was THE last night. The next morning the thick, gray clouds began to unload early as I loaded the trunk. The contin uous, droning summer rain hounded me as we got on the road and moved toward the interstate. A heavy downpour at times, the wipers could not beat the water away fast enough,as I strained my eyes to see the taillights ahead of me. Going through the gears, I could feel my headache now competing with the muscle tension moving down the back of my neck and out to my right shoulder as I worked the stick shift. Get me home as soon as possible, please. The car crossed a puddle of standing water on the interstate, underneath I could feel the wheels spin freely as they briefly left safe contact with the road. The Honda jerked slightly to the right as the front right tire Mark Smith Jr. General Manager reunited with the surface a split second before the front left tire did the same. “What was that?” Hannah’s words broke her silence. “Hydroplane” my one word answer. “What causes that?” she asked “is there something wrong with the car?” “Well, yes and no,” was my answer. I went on to explain how the standing patches water on the interstate would make the car’s tire lift off the road, how the speed of the car also affected the amount of lift and slip, and the fact that we had worn out tires was also really one of the main culprits. A brief back and forth about the cost of tires, credit card debt and why must I drive so fast ended in the two of us again sitting quietly as we trekked on at 75 miles an hour through the north Florida rainstorm. I topped a ridge along 1-10, a raised part of the interstate where the shoulder of the express way sloped off on both sides. Down the right side, a concrete culvert har nessed a torrent of run-off water. Looking down the left shoulder to the median, a steep grassy bank lined the wetland and sedge filled valley that divided the east and west bound lanes. The occasional white crane could be seen standing down there in the rain waiting for a frog. I passed two semi-trucks on the left and as I was over taking a third, the first truck changed into the left lane to do the same and follow me. I guess he figured if the state patrol was going to pull over anyone it would be the Honda going 80 mph in a 60 mph zone. With bald tires. Unlike the first time the car hydroplaned, this time was not just a slight slip and a jerk. When I hit the standing puddle, the rain gushing underneath the chassis and made ominous roaring sound as the wheel wells were overwhelmed with a flood of water lifting the car from the pavement. The car began to rotate in a counter-clockwise direction. Desperately, I tried to steer into the skid but the car was now going down the inter state backwards. I briefly stared face to face with a wall of east bound semi trucks going 75 mph facing east while I did the same while facing west. I looked over my right shoulder and tried to navigate the 2,000 lb. projectile as it began to drift off of the interstate and descend into the median. I tried to brake hard to slow the skid down. The right rear wheel hit the grass first and, in doing so, it was the only wheel with any braking power. The uneven force of one solitary locked up wheel on the ground fighting to stop the high speed skid started the car rotating again, this time the front end was coming around and we were facing the direction of the car’s path as it slid down the steep embankment. I knew there was no stopping this car until impact. It was then I began to pray. It was the 911 prayer. The get me out of this please prayer. The Lord save us prayer. Only I remember the last thing I asked for before we hit. “ God, let her survive, take me, it is all my fault. She doesn’t deserve this, it is not her fault.” The car hit nose first into the swampy median with a blinding splash of brown water. The vehicle contin ued to move and plowed deep into the sedge grass and came to a rest with the front end completely un derwater. It had not flipped. It had not hit a culvert or a tree or another car. We were alive. We were alive and unharmed. I share this story in the harsh light of what happened on 441 Sunday as not a way of saying, “Look at me, look how lucky I am.” No, I was at fault, everything that happened could have been avoided. It was my own arrogance and neglect that nearly caused a tragedy. The Rhodes family was simply driving home from a family vacation - doing everything right. Life is fragile, the horror of what the family is going through I cannot begin to imagine. God’s plan? I will not even begin to speculate on it. Really bad things happen to really good people. Michael was at my house a couple of weeks ago with some other strong guys helping move a hot tub. Like everyone says, his smile was instantly recog nizable. Take the time to hug your children before they leave for school. Call you mother. Call your brother and sister. Go see an old friend. Put your smart phone down when you get home from work. Have an honest conversation with someone you love. Vince Dooley is no stranger to Lake Country. In the mid-1960s, the newly hired UGA coach made trips to Eatonton for visits with Ed and Eileen Deraney, relatives of his wife Barbara. Over the years, Coach Dooley made countless speeches and entertained enthu siastic Bulldog fans in every nook and cranny of the state. The twice- named National Coach of the Year now talks more about another of his great interests - the American Civil War. Knowledgeable and proficient in many fields of endeavor, Dooley is truly a Renaissance man. Since retiring as athletic director in 2004, this former Marine officer has contin ually reinvented himself. By auditing horticulture classes at the university, he enhanced his abili ties to become a master gardener as revealed in the beautiful gardens at his Athens home, the family’s residence since 1964. A number of pub lished stories mention the coach’s unique roses and his role in developing a hardy breed of hydran gea that withstands late Georgia freezes. Coach Dooley has also devoted time and energy to the writing and editing of popular books with titles that include “Dooley: My 40 Years at Georgia,” “In Dooley’s Garden,” “Dooley’s Dawgs” and “Echoes of Georgia Football” and children’s Hank Segars Lakelife Assodate Editor books “How ‘Bout Them Dawgs” and “Hairy Dawg’s Journey Though the Peach State.” Lesser known is the coach’s interest in Civil War history. After earning an undergraduate degree in business manage ment from Auburn Uni versity in 1953, Dooley returned to graduate with a master’s in history in 1963. In later years, the strong interest in American history served as inspiration to visit battlefields and to author “History and Reminis cences of the University of Georgia,” illustrated by artist Steve Penley. Also, Dooley is now serving as chairman of the Georgia Historical Society and is involved with the Civil War Trust to preserve bat tlefield properties. I received a Mercer University Press catalog recently that included a new book by Coach Dooley with a title that caught my attention: “The Legion’s Fighting Bulldog.” It is a SEE SEGARS » A8 Stylish and Affordable lift recliners in a variety of fabrics that complement every home and decorative style. A (0 B O Y 'AMERICA Petitioning you for lift. SINCE 1945! / 2>H L 9 Buildings of Furniture • Downtown Eatonton 706-485-2261 drgia Military College Glenn Miller Orchestra With its unique jazz sound, the Glenn Miller Orchestra is considered to be one of the greatest bands of all time. THURSDAY MAY 18, 2017 | 7 p.m. Georgia Military College Goldstein Center for the Performing Arts 325 S. Elbert St., Milledgeville General Admission: $20 | Student (with ID): $5 For tickets, contact the Office of College Relations: 478-387-0230 or purchase online: pasgmc.com/springconcert
