Eulogy to a Burning Farmhouse

Savannah lost an important landmark today. A historic farmhouse, known to many as where the big cow was on seventeen. The house held many memories for people of Savannah, especially for us who called it Grandma’s house. After eighteen years the house was sold to a development company based in Augusta Georgia. Martha Holland and Nancy Boyd, known to us as Grandma and Aunt Nancy, moved, and our memories dissolved into a puff of smoke as a training exercise for over fifty firefighters.



Tears filled Martha Holland’s eyes as she recalled moving to the old farmhouse in 1991. She sits next to her son, Tommy Holland and watches the black smoke drift out of bedroom window. The “ Big Cow” or “Keller’s Cow” was moved to the old farmhouse by her brother Robert Simons shortly after. It was a landmark, something Savannah was known for. Everyone has a memory of the big cow. Ours included camping trips in the rain, and girls running up to the house at two in the morning for our bathroom run. Riding dirt bikes and go-carts. My father-in-law Edward paddled a johnboat around the creek with a broken shovel because we didn’t have a paddle. Her grandson Thomas remembers walking the property with Uncle Robert and two copperheads falling out of a tree right behind them. Thomas ran back to the house to get the truck and his .38 and promptly took care of the snakes, which were still writhing on the ground where they had just walked.

As flames licked the front window, I had pictures of African Violets sitting in a gold plant stand with the sunlight filtering in. The back porch caved and I remember rows of canning jars lining the shelves. The wall in the hallway caved and I recall standing in line for a Thanksgiving feast. The smell just about to drive you mad it was so good. And sitting around while Uncle Clarence he recited the family history and Uncle Tommy snoozed in the recliner.

So our memories must make way for progress and learning. They will live on in our photographs and stories that we pass on to our children. And when we drive by and a new building is there, we will tell them stories of our childhood, how we played in grandma’s living room and now it is now the corner seating of an Applebee’s. We will laugh and think of how funny it really is that because of our willingness to sacrifice a few memories, someone you know could be saved from a fire.

Over six departments ranging from Effingham county to 7th Islands fire department will be trained in one day on this one house. After a rigorous course of NPQ (National Board on Fire Service Professional Qualifications), this training could be the difference for these brave men and women. The training is not easy. Dripping from sweat, sitting in the hot sun, these volunteers give up the time they could be out on their boats catching some rays to be there for you. Next time you hear a siren, think about the hours they put in, the weekends they sacrificed. It might just be you someday. If you are interested in becoming a volunteer firefighter, contact your local fire department.

Springtime in South East Georgia

It is springtime in southeast Georgia, which can only mean one thing - family reunions. As we mourn the passing of Thomas' Grandma Libby we are again reminded why the south can hold it's own in the hospitality industry. In the time of your deepest grief, they are there, casseroles in hand to comfort you. What we would have known as the "Lutheran Basement Ladies" growing up, are known as Baptists in the south. These ladies were a group from the upper mid-west who could feed an army and make them forget their woes in a dish of jello. It started when they would build the foundation for the churches, they would put the kitchen in the basement so the women could feed the workers as the building progressed. They grew such a reputation for their fine cooking that they became known as the "Lutheran Basement Ladies".

Before you have had a chance to digest the last meal, the next gathering is upon you. This family reunion is in Sardis, Georgia across from the old saw mill. It is always the Sunday before Easter. Everyone brings a dish and the kids enjoy an Easter egg hunt. Again, we gorge ourselves until we can barely make the hour and a half ride home without falling asleep. Usually when you think of a family reunion, you think of a gathering of strangers that you don't remember their names, but they are all some sort of cousin. Not true in this family. Not only do we get together twice a year (similar to C+E christians, Christmas and Easter) to spend an entire afternoon together, the same family members try to come, which makes it easy to keep up with who's who.