10 July 2012
I have often been questioned about growing up the son and grandson of high-sheriffs in rural coastal Georgia. If asked to describe this in a single word it would be "stories." You see, the high-sheriff is an elected office that calls for a dose of county politics mixed with demands of law enforcement. High drama can and did evolve in both arenas in the 45 years of their service, yet the greatest overall drama was the change that came during these years.
Some of the narratives shared here relate to the sheriff's office and others don't - the common denominator being unique and memorable experiences of an ordinary life in a special place during a time of great change.
Some stories have to be tamed to be told for a variety of reasons, and in some cases names are not mentioned as aspects of these accounts aren't proud moments. Enemies, friends, law breakers, and law abiders created dozens of stories spanning the lengthy service of my father and grandfather coupled with my own years of 'growing up coastal.'
My family often became inextricably involved in a variety of events in the county as the role of rural sheriff journeyed beyond simple law enforcement to include peace maker, provider, referee, enforcer, confidant, and consultant. Even as children we were held responsible, or given credit for decisions (positive or negative) made by our grandfather, and later our father. Some hated us undeservedly just as others loved us undeservedly. As a child it always mystified me how adults treated us as children.
At an early age we developed 'street sense' about situations around us, and often assumed responsibilities that didn't seem to rest with others our age. As stated, a small town sheriff in those days was much more than the leading law enforcement officer, as often what he dealt with we dealt with, even so in later years. If some thug put a 'hit' on him, which happened, it rolled over on us, as we received warnings from the GBI that our family may be car bombed. We had to check vehicles daily for several weeks until the danger passed. When he won a hard fought election, it was as if we too had won. If he caught a bad guy, we too were credited, or so it seemed.
Liberty County, in and of itself, is unique in that it is one of six counties comprising 113 miles of Atlantic coastline. It is home to Ft. Stewart, a sprawling Army base. It is bookended by the port cities of Savannah to the north and Brunswick to the south; nestled next to Henry Ford's former playground, Bryan County, and R.J. Reynolds's Sapelo Retreat in wild and wooly McIntosh County.
Perhaps you begin to see the ingredients of this land of many stories when you weigh in on the unmatched characteristics and geography of Liberty County - miles of shoreline, low country river plantations, beautiful secluded barrier islands with miles of dunes and beaches, inland rivers upon which now dead cities evolved contributing to Liberty County's rich history, two signers of the Declaration of Independence, Revolutionary War battles, a port that rivaled Savannah - deepest natural harbor east of the Mississippi, miles of gorgeous rivers leading to the Atlantic, and the largest military reservation east of the Mississippi - 286,000 acres. All these inimitable characteristics blended to create a scene for many dramatic situations that I both witnessed and experienced.
The unusual combination of a rural 'coastal' environment on the east end of the county with a sprawling military complex on the west made our rural lifestyle different from other agriculturally based small towns in the southeastern US. Salt water and soldiers make life in Liberty unparalleled as small southeastern towns go - an agriculturally based community with an ocean and Army. Add to the mix social upheaval, the civil rights movement, riots, assignations, the constant threat of nuclear attack, emerging drug culture, generation gap, and rock music. As Bob Dylan sang, "The times they are a changing!"
These stories stem from experiences representing a slice of the culture and history of Liberty County and Coastal Georgia circa 1960 - 2000. These 40 years saw unprecedented change in race relations as I vividly remember colored and white water fountains, bathrooms, recreation areas, and sadly, wretched discrimination. I loved a great grandmother who traveled by horse and wagon until she was twenty when she rode in her first car. This same great grand witnessed a man step onto the moon. I saw manufacturing of moonshine give way to growing marijuana as the primary source of underground commerce, smuggling become a way of life for many local shrimpers, blacks become a force in local politics, Interstate 95 replace overburdened Highway 17 bringing an end to roadside motels, clip joints, and pecan shops. Change - incredible change was in the air.
I witnessed exploding residential growth in Hinesville and ultimately in nearby Richmond Hill, as the sleepy little towns sprung to life with the activation of the 24th Infantry Division in 1974 creating thousands of jobs, new businesses, and economic opportunity. Our small town of several thousand became a city of thousands almost overnight.
With so much cultural and economic change came challenge - challenge to adapt, to grow, and to change with the time. In many ways we were like a cowboy town of the wild west with smugglers on the coast and entrepreneurs in the city. Drugs and the counter-culture of the late sixties became a form of mainstream mindset in the seventies. Things were happening fast, and I was there to see it and to some extent experience it - the growth, the change, and memories from the past.
These stories are highlights from those years. Some are very personal, and I debated telling them, yet to leave them out would be to short change the purpose of this chronicle - record a piece of ordinary history about an ordinary life in Liberty County during an important time in our county and country's history.
Coastal Georgia Stories • Opuss № I