Holy Week On Hilton Head

Early this morning at Driessen Beach on Hilton Head Island, Tim and I gathered with more than a hundred other believers to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

As the light grew from darkness to dawn, I thought about that parallel to my own life: how the death of Christ made it possible for me to come out of the darkness of my sins into the marvelous light of God's forgiveness and love.

This morning's sunrise service was a fitting conclusion to our week here in this earthly paradise. 

Thanks to the rest I received, I now feel almost fully recovered from my cochlear implant surgery.  

Although the Atlantic Ocean was still too chilly for me, Tim ventured into the surf while I simply enjoyed the daily seventy-plus temperatures from my beach chair.

Hilton Head Island holds a special place in my heart.  When our children were preschoolers, we took our vacations here.  We'd drive down from Washington, D.C. each September after the summer crowds left the island to return to school or work.  Tim's parents would fly from Chicago to join us for these jaunts.  I remember how grateful I was for their offer to babysit the kids so we could dine in a restaurant that catered to adults.

We always brought our bicycles.  With Jillian and Richard firmly strapped into the children's seats perched over the rear tires, we would ride through several of Hilton Head's plantations and along a portion of its 50 miles of pathways and trails.  This time, however, I was still somewhat dizzy from my surgery; I didn't want to chance a fall.  Instead, Tim and I walked the trails.

I don't know why my husband is attracted to danger, but while I kept a wary eye out for alligators, Tim ventured close enough to take a photo of these two basking in the sun.

Hilton Head's beaches are fantastic, expansive stretches of fine white sand, even at high tide.  

Almost every day brought sightings of dolphins.

There were sandcastles, too, that ranged from elaborate, detailed creations to a simple one, complete with a moat.

This week the island was crowded with parents and children on spring break as well as spectators here to watch the PGA Heritage golf tournament.  Tim thought about joining the throngs along the fairways, but when he learned that the price of a ticket was $155, he changed his mind.

As an alternative, we bought tickets for the Gullah Tour.  Irvin, our tour guide was a sixth generation of the Gullahs, descendants of enslaved Africans from the Gullah tribe.  Living in the relative isolation of the Lowcountry and Sea Islands of Georgia and South Carolina, the Gullahs have preserved much of the African linguistics and cultural heritage of their forefathers.  

Irvin showed us a Bible translated into the Gullah dialect.  Way cool!

We camped at Hilton Head Motorcoach Resort, a secluded campground near the Cross Island Parkway.  

Public beach access at Coligny Beach was only 1.5 miles away from the campground, easily walkable.

My favorite memory from those vacations 25 years ago is of my daughter's announcement upon our first arrival on the island.  Jillian proclaimed, "I think I'm going to be very happy here!"  Funny words to come out of a three-year-old's mouth!  But the sentiment is just as true today as it was then.

Cherry Blossom Time in D.C.

April 12, 2014

When I scheduled the date for my cochlear implant surgery, I wasn't trying to coincide with the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, D.C., but our timing couldn't have been better.  We arrived right when the blossoms were at their peak.

April 12, 2014

This year's display was not as brilliant as ones we've seen in the past.  The cold spell of March 2017 wrecked havoc with that.

This plus the following photos are this year's blossoms.

Still, the pale pink and white blossoms herald the beginning of spring; their fragile beauty a reminder of the brevity of life.

Due to my recuperation, we were unable to join the thousands who trekked to the Tidal Basin to view the trees, gifts from Japan in 1912.  Instead, we enjoyed their cousins planted throughout Cherry Hill Campground where we stayed during this visit just as we did last November.

Billings Administration Building
Johns Hopkins Medical Center

We chose to return to Cherry Hill Campground even though my surgery was done at Johns Hopkins Medical Center in Baltimore.  For one, the distance between the two was only 30 miles.  For another, this gave us several prized chances to see our son who lives in D.C.  Richard is in the midst of a career change so we hoped to encourage him during this stressful time.  The only downside of our choice was waking early to be at JHMC's Outpatient Center by 5:30 a.m. the day of the surgery.

Despite the arrival of spring in our nation's capitol, the overnight temperatures this past week have not caught up.  They hovered in the upper 30s, making it easy to understand why the campground owners insulate and heat the water spigots at each campsite. 

Insulated water spigot with 110-volt bib heater

 That chore makes it possible for the campground to remain open year round.

Part of the recovery process from my surgery is to get up and walk as soon as possible.  That helps diminish the dizziness brought on by the drainage of fluid in the inner ear.  

It's difficult to do much walking inside an RV so with Tim's help, I navigated the roads within the campground and even ventured out to the nearby Paint Branch Trail.  At my post-operative appointment a week after the procedure, my surgeon was pleased with my recovery so far.

Now all I have to do is wait for the swelling to lessen over the next four weeks until the implant is finally turned on.  Hopefully, this implantation will be successful, making it possible for me to begin the task of learning to listen electronically with my right ear.  But I've done that before when I received my first implant in my left ten years ago.  Surely I can do it again!

Woo, Woo, Chattanooga!

Steam Locomotive on display at Terminal Station

When you hear the whistle blowin' eight to the bar
Then you know that Tennessee is not very far
Shovel all the coal in
Gotta keep it rollin'
Woo, woo, Chattanooga there you are.
~ lyrics to Glen Miller's popular song, Chattanooga ChooChoo

Tim and I continued to roll north towards Nashville for a planned weekend with our daughter Jillian.  Yet, woo, woo!  There was Chattanooga, a city we'd driven through before but never had time to explore.  So we pulled our RV, the Dawntreader, off the interstate and camped three nights at Holiday Travel Park of Chattanooga.

Although I majored in history as a college undergraduate, I didn't focus my studies on the Civil War.  However, Tim and I became Civil War buffs when we moved to Virginia back in 1987.  Ever since then, we've tried to visit the war's battlefields; we planned to see three such grounds on this leg of our journey.  Perhaps one day we'll revisit these battles in their proper order by following the victorious path of the Union Army of the Cumberland south towards Atlanta, but that's a future trip.

This time we are heading north.  Our first stop was a brief visit to Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield.  With our Jeep in tow behind the RV, we were limited in what we could do there.  Instead of touring the battlefield, we had to settle for learning what we could of this significant Union tactical defeat at the park's Visitors Center.

Given the objective to capture Atlanta, the South's major industrial center, General William T. Sherman pressed further into Georgia in the summer of 1864.  He sent this report to Washington: "The whole country is one vast fort, and Johnston must have at least 50 miles of connected trenches...and finished batteries.  We gain ground daily, fighting all the time...Our lines are now in close contact and the fighting incessant, with a good deal of artillery.  As fast as we gain one position the enemy has another all ready...Kennesaw...is the key to the whole country."

But when he couldn't unlock the key of Kennesaw Mountain, Sherman outflanked the Confederate forces time and again as his Union men leapfrogged the twenty miles from Kennesaw to the outskirts of Atlanta.  There overwhelmed at last, Confederate General Joseph E. Johnston's soldiers gave way their defense of the city.  "Atlanta is ours, and fairly won," wrote Sherman in a dispatch dated on September 3, 1864.

After viewing the excellent film and exhibits at Kennesaw Mountain's Visitors Center, Tim and I returned to the Dawntreader and continued north.  When we arrived at our campground on the outskirts of Chattanooga, we found that we were only five miles from the battlefield of Chickamauga.

Before the Union forces could topple Atlanta, they had to first go through Chattanooga.  That small city of 2,500 people lay on the banks of the Tennessee River where it cut through the Appalachian Mountains, allowing four major railroads to converge.  If Union forces could secure Chattanooga, it could cripple Confederate supply lines.

Chickamauga's Wilder Brigade Monument (open seasonally) was an icy challenge to climb.

U.S. General William Rosecrans tried.  In September 1863, Rosecrans moved his Army of the Cumberland south, crossing the Tennessee River and threatening the Confederates from the rear, but his forces were routed in the Battle of Chickamauga by Confederate soldiers led by General Braxton Bragg.  Falling back to Chattanooga, Rosecrans and his men found themselves isolated and surrounded by Confederates. 

Southern Belle Steamboat

Then, newly appointed Major General Ulysses S. Grant focused his sights on lifting the siege of Chattanooga.  He opened the "Cracker Line" using steamboats and a partial overland route to bring food and supplies down the Tennessee River to the beleaguered town.  On November 25, 1863, the reinforced Union troops began to fight their way out of the city.  

At Lookout Mountain and on Missionary Ridge, the battle for Chattanooga raged until the Union emerged victorious, thus sounding the death knell for the Confederacy and opening the way to Atlanta.

Our visit to Chattanooga wasn't all about battlefields.  We also found time to stroll along the Riverwalk where many of the city's attractions are found.

Tennessee Aquarium

Ross Landing where the Trail of Tears began

The Riverwalk switchbacks up to the Hunter Museum.

The Hunter Museum of American Art

The Hunter Museum of Decorative Arts

Walnut Street Bridge, now a pedestrian walkway

Bluff View Overlook

The Riverwalk with Walnut Street Bridge in the background

University of Tennessee at Chattanooga's rowing crew

After our promenade along the Riverwalk, we drove by the Terminal Station, a former railroad station and now a hotel (pictured below).  We didn't stop to visit, but perhaps next time we're in Chattanooga, we'll make plans to stay in one of its Pullman train cars.

Photo by Andrew Jameson - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0,
 https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10031991

From Lookout Mountain to the banks of the Tennessee River, Chattanooga has captured our hearts, too.  We've added this beautiful city to our list of possible places to settle once we leave the life of full-time living in a RV.

"Chattanooga choo choo
Won't you choo-choo me home?"

But that is years away!  There's still so many places we'd like to see.