Pondering the loss of open country

I had the opportunity to drive over to McDonough this morning to search a title. The road to McDonough has changed quite a bit since I was driving Judge Whitmire back and forth between Barnesville and McDonough back in 1983 and 1984. Sometimes you lose sight of how much change occurs when you are seeing it happen before your eyes. It has been several months since I had to travel to McDonough and I noticed quite a bit of change since my last trip.

When I first was employed by Judge Whitmire as his law clerk, I was living at home and hadn't found a place to live in Barnesville. I remember one morning in January driving down toward McDonough for a term of court from Dunwoody. As I approached the Hudson Bridge Road exit, I was surrounded by snow falling sideways across the highway. I remember pulling up onto the exit ramp on Hudson Bridge Road and looking around for a service station and a pay phone (this being in the days before cell phones). On that exit, there was nothing to see. I know now that there was a motel off to my right at the time, the Safari Inn, but the snow was falling so thickly that I couldn't even see it up over my right shoulder.

Nevertheless, the snow was so thick and there was no traffic on this road in North Henry County and nothing was there to speak of. I ended up turning around and heading back north toward Dunwoody to find that the freak snow storm extended from North Henry County down to Albany, Georgia. While it was very cold in North Georgia, there was little precipitation. I called Judge Whitmire who told me he had cancelled court and advised me to stay in Dunwoody. I remember eating lunch with Cindy and mom and dad at Perimeter and enjoying the time off with the girl who would soon be my bride.

But it is truly amazing how much change has occurred on this side of the city since that snowy day in January when there was no place to stop and place a phone call in North Henry County. Now, the road there is Eagle's Landing Parkway and has a huge residential, commercial and industrial development, with a hospital, and all the associated clutter that goes along with such a huge multi-use development. Everything to the south of that is covered up with development. It is difficult to find an open meadow which isn't being converted to some other use. All of the farm land that used to cover Henry County to the north, south, east and west is almost completely gone.

Now they are building a huge residential development in North Spalding County, which will touch the southern end of another huge residential development in South Henry County. As I drove down Georgia Highway 155 toward Griffin, road contractors were working on widening the road between Griffin and McDonough, taking up huge chunks of real estate. As they worked, contractors were working to build strip shopping centers and industrial sites along the road. They seemed to be in a race to complete their work ahead of one another. I suppose they were.

And here I sit, thinking how delightful it would be to buy some home grown tomatoes and peas.

I tried to grow tomatoes this Spring and Summer. The deer came in and ate the tops of the plants as they grew. I am still trying to protect my tomato plants. I may have to borrow my brother's bow and await the return of the pestilent deer. Of course, I might have to become proficient in field dressing deer. How would Cindy like it to wake up and look out the kitchen window one morning to see a deer carcass hanging from the patio superstructure? Probably about as much as my mother-in-law enjoyed seeing the pickup truck stuck on the side walkway of her house in Knoxville. At least we could eat the venison.

This loss of open country is sad to me. I wish there was more careful planning and preservation of the open land. At least I can still buy country vegetables at Louise's or at Cracker Barrell or at Country's Barbecue in Columbus. And I can still turn up the country music on my car radio every so often, as long as Cindy and Kate aren't in the car with me.

Don't fence me in.