“Joe-Jah” is how a friend of my parents, Hettie Bates, pronounced Georgia. She was a force of nature, loud and funny. I was told she was issued one of the first IBM Selectric typewriters because she could type so fast that she would jam the keys on a conventional electric typewriter.
Hettie was not a typical Fifties housewife and mother. It’s said that to prepare the house for guests she would grab the toys, the shoes, the clothes, the whatever, and shove them all into the nearest closet. As a visiting child, you only opened a door with authorization.
But this post has nothing to do with the gone-but-not-forgotten Hettie.
Rock City sits atop Lookout Mountain, in Georgia, and near Tennessee.
I approached this excursion without great enthusiasm because, well, I’ve seen rocks before. But this trip turned out to be quite nice. The weather was perfect, the company excellent, and the attraction perched high above the surrounding area was pleasant and relaxing.
A visit to Rock City is basically a walk along a fixed path that takes you from one experience to another. On the lookout, it’s said that one can see seven states on a clear day. If one knows what one is looking for.
You would be forgiven if you formed the impression that Susan and Dennis are Louisana State fans.
That’s Chattanooga in the distance.
No lovers leaping today.
If you see purple and gold in the distance, you are looking at Susan and Dennis.
Dennis and Susan stand amongst the seven states.
The top of Lookout Mountain is lined with high-end homes. This one, next to the Gardens, belonged to their former owner.
I thought at first that this was Jesus…
…but it turned out to be St. Someone of the Pigeons.
Things veer unexpectedly toward the freaky.
Watch for the second part of our walk through Rock City Gardens when things take a distinctly odd turn.
