Tomorrow's Taken

Ben looked older than the last time I saw him ... which was the last time we'd had lunch together at Johnny Harris Restaurant, an old Savannah tradition. We were back because he'd called chastising me for not calling him and inviting him to lunch. So I did and there we were yesterday doing it again. I love Ben dearly. Now in his mid-90s, his mind remains as sharp as a tact though his body is giving up the struggle to keep up. His white hair was clombed neatly back, his glasses magnified the intensity of his blue eyes as he fired questions at as though from a machine gun. "What are doing?" "Tell me about Sarah." "When was the last time you talked to Herb?" What about Philip?" "What's going on at Union Mission?" "Why in the hell did they give half of it away?" "You seen the last newsletter? It's terrible." Fortunately, Craig Harney and the folks from WTOC were at the next table. He and I caught eyes and spoke. He's been at the station since he was a baby and now is the behind the scenes (mostly) manager of everything there. A million years ago he did a feature on me and a new approach to ending homelessness in Savannah. When it aired I was critical of it and he put me in my place by saying, "I gave you every chance to make it special and you didn't do anything." I learned a most important lesson about the press and have been grateful to him ever since. The last time I saw Craig was in The Farmer's Daughter's Junkyard in Athens, Georgia. It was right after we'd been to the University of Georgia football game. He's a Dawg. I'm a Dawg. We dawged around. "Who's that?" Ben demanded. I told him. "OK back to what I was asking," he commanded. At which point Cliff McCurry stopped by the table. Cliff is a former Union Mission Board member, runs Seacrest Partners and about half of the other things in Savannah (mostly behind the scenes). "Why are you still here?" I ask. "I'm practicing my packing," he explained while shaking Ben's hand and paying homage. "I thought you'd be in Athens by now," I said. "Leaving now," he said shaking my hand with a grin and leaving. Cliff is also a Dawg and was jumping in his car to head to Athens for tomorrow's kickoff. "He's a good boy," Ben says afterwards. I laugh because Cliff's in his 60s. Age is relative I suppose. "OK," Ben resumed the questioning only to be interrupted again by members of the restaurant staff who wanted to know how we were doing. Over the years we've been there a lot. Sighing, Ben looked at me and said, "We're going to have to get back together soon. I want to know Sarah better. You haven't told me anything." I laughed and asked if he wanted to come to Tybee. "I'll take you to all the honkey-tonks." Grinning, he said, "Maybe so." It won't be tomorrow thought. Ben's also a DAWG. I am too. Tomorrow's taken. Driving Maddie to school this morning she said, "Hey that car is a DAWG." Sure enough the car beside had a UGA sticker on the back windshield. It made me proud because the next generation is coming along nicely. GO DAWGS!