Cross Country Road Trip, 2019 - Day 2

BabyLand General Hospital

This morning we left the town of Helen and drove along the Chattahoochee to the Nora Mill Granary Grist Mill and Country Store where we learned how they grind grain using the original mill stones that were installed in 1876. I felt like Ma Ingalls as I examined jars of jams, honey, and pickled whatever that lined the shelves along the whitewashed walls. The doors were opened and fans blew the already-too-hot air around the store. Sacks of wheat, cornmeal, and biscuit mix sat piled high on tables, and I felt like I should be wearing an apron and churning butter. I shopped a bit, not wanting to leave the charming little country store, but eventually we made our way through one of the screen doors onto the porch that overlooked the river. We watched several giant trout swimming in the shallow waters below. Usually, people can pay twenty-five cents and feed the trout, but today a sign was posted that said the water temperature was too high to feed them. At this point, I was ready to move on to the attraction that brought us to this town in the first place.

The original French Burr Stones:
the top is the runner which turns and
the bottom is the bed stone which is stationary

We drove a few miles down the road to Cleveland, the town that is famous for one thing: BabyLand General Hospital, the birthplace of Cabbage Patch Kids. Allow me to provide a little background:

The happiest 7-year-old on Earth

In 1984, for my 7^th birthday, my parents gave me my very first Cabbage Patch Kid. She had big brown eyes, and beautiful brown yarn hair that smelled like baby powder. 35 years later, her hair smells the same, except now she lives in a garbage bag crammed in my attic. I can’t remember her name because her one-of-a-kind birth certificate was lost long ago. You may be old enough to remember the riots that broke out over the vinyl-faced dolls in the 80's. I was lucky enough to be involved in one and, while I’m not proud of what I did, I’m really proud of what I did. 

At the peak of the Cabbage Patch Kid craze, my mom drove me to Toys 'Я' Us (R.I.P.) when a new shipment came because I needed a boy doll. We lined up with hundreds of women outside the store and waited for the doors to open. The second the poor employee unlocked the doors, the grown women morphed into rabid lunatics and bum rushed the store. But I was young and I was spry and I was so much faster than them. I made a beeline for the tower of yellow boxes that might as well have been bricks of gold, and I grabbed the box that held my treasure—an adorable blonde boy—when suddenly, a behemoth of a woman yanked it out of my tiny little hands. I believe that’s the first time in my life I was filled with rage. I yelled, “Give it back! I had it first!” and once I wrestled the box out of her grubby mitts, I made a run for it. I don’t know where that lady is today, but I hope she’s homeless.

Post brawl. Aren't we adorable?

I tell you that story so you’ll understand why I needed to go on this journey to BabyLand General Hospital. As we drove up the winding driveway to the 70,000 square-foot hospital, I told Chad, “Just to give you fair warning, I may adopt a…”

“Oh, I know,” he said before I even finished my sentence.

The hospital sits on 650 acres of perfectly manicured grounds and as we walked along the covered porch to the entrance, we passed a row of white wooden rocking chairs and Chad asked if I was going to nurse a baby while sitting in one. And I considered it.

These giant sculptures dot the lawn

I'm available for adoption
and come with only some psychological damage

My favorite CPK, Chad David

We walked though the doors and were greeted by a “nurse” at the front counter who had us sign in for our visit. We then looked at a collection of original dolls (you’re not allowed to call them dolls though, they’re “babies” or “kids”) some valued in the tens of thousands of dollars. I wonder how much my 35-year-old stale attic doll is worth. Maybe like $6? The dolls at the hospital are exclusive to the hospital and their online store and range in price from $60 - $300 and as we visited the nurseries, I considered adopting one for our future grandbabies. Chad didn’t really know what we were in for because he leaves travel research up to me. I usually let him in on what's in store but this time I didn't explain what we were about to witness because, to be honest, it seemed bizarre even to me.

Over the intercom an LPN (Licensed Patch Nurse) made an announcement: “Special delivery for Ridley, please come down to the Magic Crystal tree. Cabbage in labor. Code 3!” I was the first one to the tree, which towers over a cabbage patch where heads of dolls stare out at you, hoping you’ll adopt them. Mother Cabbage sits at the base of the tree, and the LPN told the crowd that we could tell Mother Cabbage is in labor because the crystals at the base of the tree glow a little brighter and the Bunnybees sprinkle down their magic crystal dust. “Mother Cabbage is a full 10 leaves apart,” the LPN said after taking measurements with calipers. She then gave Mother Cabbage a shot of “Imagicilin” and dose of “TLC.” The LPN looked into the crowd and asked the mommy-to-be if she was hoping for a boy or girl. A 6' 3" woman in a husky voice shouted, "GIRL," and the rest of us were instructed to cross our fingers and shout “Pink! Pink! Pink!” so the Bunnybees would hear us and sprinkle the right amount of magic dust to make a girl. We then had to help Mother Cabbage with breathing techniques and then yell, “Push!” as the LPN pulled a naked doll from a cabbage. After the delivery, the doll was whisked away with her new mommy to the Delivery Nursery for her exam as Chad and I sat in stunned silence because what the hell did we just see? Then we laughed so hard we couldn’t stop. Chad told me he has never been more uncomfortable in his life. Maybe it was extra weird because we were the only adults there without children. The kids watching the delivery stood in amazement and probably left with a lot of questions about where babies really come from.

Soda Fountain Cafe

I decided not to adopt a Cabbage Patch Kid after all and we left the hospital in a daze. It took us awhile before we were able to make eye contact again. We stopped at the Soda Fountain Café for lunch and plotted our route, deciding to drive to Tupelo, Mississippi which is 5 ½ hours away. The drive was easy and the scenery along the freeway was gorgeous. The trees and shrubs were so dark green and lush it looked like something from Jurassic Park. I expected a T-Rex to crash through the forest at any minute. We saw no litter, no pot shops, no filthy homeless camps. Just every shade of green imaginable.

As we arrived in Tupelo, we played Van Morrison’s Tupelo Honey and shifted our focus from the mountains of Georgia to an entirely new vibe. Tupelo is the birthplace of Elvis Presley and they really want you to know it. We stopped downtown for dinner at Kermit’s Outlaw Kitchen, a farm-to-table hyper trendy restaurant that changes its menu based on what local farmers are growing. Even the utensils are made by local craftspeople. We shared the Limited Butcher Picnic, an assortment of smoked meats and hobo packs (tin foil pouches filled with roasted local veggies). Dinner was phenomenal; Mitch, the owner/chef came to our table and chatted for a while. We were careful not to tell him about our visit to BabyLand General Hospital and what we’d witnessed there.

We covered a lot of ground today

After dinner, stuffed and dying from the humidity, we took a brief walk through downtown. We stumbled upon Elvis tributes everywhere we went. We passed Tupelo Hardware, where Elvis’ mom bought him his first guitar for $7.90. He really wanted a .22-caliber rifle, but she said no so they compromised. We got back in the car and drove through town listening to Van Morrison and watching the sky change from dusty rose to cotton-candy pinks and blues as the sun went down. We checked into our hotel, turned on Friends, and plan to wake up early for the next adventure which I promise will not include dilating cabbages and naked dolls.

"She's as sweet as Tupelo honey
She's an angel of the first degree
She's as sweet as Tupelo honey
Just like honey, baby, from the bee [but not the Bunnybees from BabyLand General Hospital, I promise]"

-Rachel