Tomorrow's Prayer Today

In our house are three framed postcards of old Tybee. The first is a painting of sand dunes, Palm Trees, sea oats and wisps of white clouds in a blue sky. It is not a photograph, looking more like a painting and has a surreal aspect to it.

Below it is the "Hotel Tybee", a grand wooden structure, four stories tall with a pale green paint and numerous white columns. Ladies in long flowing gowns stand on the porch and in the yard. In 1906 it was purchased by A.M., whoever that is, and sent to Mr. John Martin at 9112 May Avenue, S.E. in Cleveland, Ohio. There is no zip code in the lead pencil script.

"Hello John how would you like to be in the excellent hotel on Tybee from A.M." all in one sentence.

The last is of the ocean between the old Tybee Boardwalk and Pavilion and hundreds of men in black tank top bathing suits wade in the low tide. None appear very happy and for the life of me I can't find a woman in the picture. In 1923 it was mailed to a Ross McFerres in Medina New York.

Whoever wrote it mailed it from Augusta, Georgia on March 26, 1923, a Saturday morning.

"Arrived here ... hot at Florida ... hope to find cooler weather soon as we've suffered from the heat yesterday. Car running fine."

I assumed whoever wrote the unsigned card was in a hurry to get away from the heat.

My Mom had them all framed and presented to me when I returned from Louisville for home on Tybee. I've gone through lots of things though this remains one of my favorites. It's a funny reminder of things that used to be.

Long before me, people came to Tybee Island finding either excellence or insufferable heat. Everyone here is either running to, or running from, something. It's beauty with a beastly side, a salty serenity sprinkled with wet wisdom, all aglow in bubbling sunrises and blazing sunsets.

Of course A.M., John and Ross are long dead now though evidence of their pictures, postcards, platitudes and problems remain. I wonder if they ever made it back to the island and feel bad for them if they never did. But at least they were here the once.

This is my 26th year as a full time resident of this clump of sand though I've been coming here all of my life. While I never saw the Hotel Tybee, I did go to the Pavilion before it burned down in 1967. It seems that half of my life has been spent with my toes dug deep in the sand, in the sun or in the sea.

I don't know how long I get to keep living here, doing the things I do, enjoying where the river meets the sea. There's something holy about the place though. It hits you like Scripture and once you've been baptized in Holy Water, you just pray to God every single day that you can do it again tomorrow.