As an origin story, it is nothing particularly noteworthy. In fact, the circumstances were ordinary, mundane, unremarkable. It was a scene repeated hundreds of times over every day across the country. But, like Robert Frost’s road in a yellow wood, it has made all the difference.
It was lunchtime. Fifteen or 20 of us were gathered in the back room of what was then RJ’s Restaurant – heavy china plates, green napkins, plastic glasses sweating in summer humidity that not even the best air-conditioning could vanquish. The business meeting for Leadership Bulloch Alumni had not yet begun; polite chatter and subtle gossip circled the tables placed end-to-end. I was counting the minutes until I could leave and get back to the stack of manila folders on my desk.
My friend, Phyllis, sat across the table from me and beside her sat then-editor of the Herald, Larry Anderson. With the charm and genuine interest that would one day make her president of the Chamber of Commerce, she turned from side to side, leaned across the table, pulling everyone into the current of conversation.
“Oh, Kathy,” she offered when the flow of words stalled, “you have to tell Larry that story.”
I knew which one she meant, the one about how, in reviewing the work of that year’s General Assembly, I had discovered that it was now illegal in Georgia to feed wild alligators (an act it had never occurred to me as something in which to engage). Intrigued, I delved further and learned that our esteemed legislators had also used part of its short 40-day session to pass legislation making the peanut the official Georgia state crop, the peach the official Georgia state fruit and the State of Georgia the Poultry Capital of the World.
They were just following precedent as previous General Assemblies had declared the shark tooth the official Georgia state fossil and the honeybee the official Georgia state insect (Didn't anyone think to nominate the gnat?). In 1981, the legislators really got into the spirit and named eight "officials," including an official reptile (the gopher tortoise); an official vegetable (the Vidalia Sweet Onion); and an official 'possum (Pogo, as created by cartoonist Walt Kelly).
I generally do what Phyllis tells me, so I recounted my legal research and he found the story sufficiently entertaining to ask me to write it down so that he could publish it. I did and he did and a few days after the column came out, Larry called me and asked, “What would it take to get you to do this on a regular basis?”
I almost said, “Not much.”
What I did say was, “Let me think about it.”
I thought about it and decided that I could probably think of a few more things to say. This month that was 30 years and around 700 columns ago.
Seven hundred times I have begun by staring at a blank computer screen. Seven hundred times I have panicked just a little. At least half of those times I have had no idea what I was going to say until my fingers started moving over the keys. And every single time I have been struck by what a privilege I have been given to share my words.
It seems an appropriate moment in which to offer two more: Thank you.
