Today is our 20th anniversary, and when we talk about the life we’ve lived together, our kids, our relationship, and our memories, it just doesn’t seem possible. This vacation has been a celebration of a lot of hard work, God’s unending grace, and a ridiculous amount of love. But this morning, none of that was important as we considered the day before us.
Today was all about running an errand for Ali. When we told her we would be driving through Atlanta, she gave us a list of addresses to visit. They weren’t museums or historical sites, they were filming locations for The Walking Dead. I watch the show with my kids, and while none of us particulary enjoy the zombie gore, the story line is truly phenomenal and the zombies are just scary enough to give us a thrill.
So, after breakfast at City Cafe Diner in Chattanooga, we drove a couple hours south to Atlanta. As we approached the city, we wanted to turn back around and head for the mountains. Or the coast. Or anywhere but an overcrowded city. We drove around town stopping at the sites on Ali’s list and crossing off the ones we couldn’t get to. Since Chad doesn’t watch The Walking Dead, I filled him in on what he was seeing: the hospital where Rick woke up afer the outbreak, the Center for Disease Control, the intersection where Rick crawled into the tank, and Ali’s favorite--Rick’s house. Ali’s favorite character is Rick Grimes, by the way. She calls him “Dad.”
In the middle of our tour, we stopped at Margaret Mitchell’s house. I recently read Gone With the Wind for the first time, and I loved it. Afterwards, I saw the movie, having never watched it in my life, and I loved that, too. We bought tickets for a self-guided tour and roamed the first floor of the building where Margaret Mitchell lived while she wrote Gone With the Wind. The rest of the first floor is now a museum commemorating her life and the novel.
One museum label discussed the controversy surrounding the novel that still exists today. I found the author’s quote about it interesting. She said, “It happens in every upheaval, some people survive; others don't. What qualities are in those who fight their way through triumphantly that are lacking in those who go under? I only know that the survivors used to call that quality gumption. So I wrote about the people who had gumption and the people who didn't.”
It struck me that The Walking Dead shares a similiar plot, but instead of The Civil War tearing families apart, causing deaths, and wreaking havoc, it’s a mysterious viral outbreak that forces the uninfected to just survive somehow. I’m drawing comparisons between The Walking Dead and Gone With the Wind, is that too far of a stretch?
 |
| This painting hung in Rhett Butler's room in the film |
 |
| Standing in front of the actual door to Tara |
Back to the tour of Margaret Mitchell's house. The second floor focuses on the movie and its world premiere, and across the courtyard is a room that houses props from the film. I’ve been a fan of Gone With the Wind for precisely three weeks, and I was impressed by what I saw. I’m not sure Chad was as impressed. In the gift shop, as we stood next to stacks of books, Chad said, “Will the author be coming to sign these today?”
No Chad, she was hit by a car and died in 1949. Right in this intersection, actually, just a few blocks from her house:
We continued on our quest and ended up in a quaint, picturesque town called Senoia. Lots of movies were filmed in this area because of its beauty--Driving Miss Daisy, Fried Green Tomatoes, Footloose--but the only interest people have right now is The Walking Dead. We walked into the cafe, named after the TV show, and saw the walls were lined with autographed pictures of the entire cast. Next door, we shopped at “the Woodbury Shoppe,” which sells The Walking Dead souvenirs. Downstairs is a museum that displays props from the TV show and more signatures. Our kids are going to flip out.
Afterwards, we got on the road and drove on the backwoods highways for two hours until we reached a small town in Alabama called Anniston, where we decided to spend the night. We found a boutique hotel named Hotel Finial. We got a room, settled in and found a restaurant where we could celebrate 20 years of marriage. We ate at Effina’s; Chad had a ribeye and I ordered a pasta dish.
 |
| Chad posing in our room somewhere in Alabama |
 |
| Our post-meal picture |
Over dinner, we read a little about the history of the town where we're spending our anniversary. Imagine our delight when we discovered that in 1969, Montsano owned a chemical plant here in town and was charged with dumping 250 pounds of chemicals into a nearby creek per day. Anniston was among the most toxic cities in the country. Why would we NOT spend our vacation here?! As we ate, we tried to decide where we would spend the last couple nights of our trip; we even let our waiter chime in. It looks like tomorrow morning we’ll head straight to Nashville, and that's where we'll end our trip.
And now, here's excerpt from the song we danced to at our wedding, which we played throughout the day, and which we've been playing for 20 years:
When that fog horn blows
You know I will be coming home
And when that fog horn whistle blows
I gotta hear it
I don't have to fear it
And I wanna rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will flow into the mystic.
- Van Morrison
- Rachel
No comments:
Post a Comment