road trip: day 4 (mississippi bound)

travel time: 10 hrs. 13 min.
distance: 669 miles
average speed: 78 mph


just outside macon,georgia came a last minute recollection. a passing comment uttered some time ago. but now, it was stuck in my head. as it would turn out, this memory came just in time, and with help from a few friends chained to their computers, i was able to confirm my destination.

exiting the freeway just a few short miles after receiving that confirmation, my anticipation began slowly building. it had 25 miles to build, and i was making my way deeper into the isolated back woods of georgia.

there were no signs telling me where i needed to go—no mention at all. had i not been driving with a specific purpose, and the aid of my gps, i likely would have missed it entirely. i certainly never would have found it on my own.

none to soon, i arrived at my destination, and was immediately overcome with a sense of gratitude. often i find myself grateful for authenticity—for a truthfulness that rarely exists. so often in my travels, i have found it lacking where i hoped for and expected more. but as i pulled up to the whistle stop café in juliette, i was incredibly excited to find that it was exactly as i had expected.

situated caddy-corner, railroad tracks on one side, and a small street on the other, the whistle stop sits, exactly as it appeared so many years ago now, beckoning you to come in and enjoy some fried green tomatoes.

i couldn’t resist that call, and when i opened the screen door, letting it close with a loud bang behind me, i was even more amazed that the interior of the café also appeared to have been plucked directly from the silver screen. but in this case art imitated life, instead of the other way around.

the café was quiet, with the exception of that screen door slamming from time to time. at the counter sat a couple of obvious locals, and in addition to me, there were two occupied tables with visitors from other parts. i must admit that i was shocked. how was it that this place wasn’t full of people? was it the lack of signage or direction? was it the nature of it’s ‘hidden’ location? is it just that so few are aware of its existence? i can’t say for sure, but again i found myself grateful.

rather than contending with obnoxious tourists (i fall into the latter, not former category), i was able to enjoy my meal in peace, marveling at the integrity of the structure.

the waitress approached, ‘can i get you something to drink?’
‘diet coke please.’
‘tomatoes?’
‘yes please

that was that. drinking my cola from a mason jar, i gobbled up the tomatoes, dipped in a spicy horseradish sauce. truth be told, i don’t really like tomatoes—but i liked these. maybe it was psychological, but i was so happy to be there.

after my mid-day snack, i got back on the road towards mississippi. i would be meeting laura and robert for the first time after having heard about them for years and years. i was not to be disappointed as they were everything i had expected and more. their graciousness in accepting a virtual stranger into their home was only enhanced by the experience of actually spending time with—i was laughing from the minute i walked through the door!

we chatted and laughed for quite awhile, and finally, it was time to call it a night.