I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

For any who want more, complete list of all posts by month since 2011

  • Daniel Boone? No – Daniel Pratt…


    In 1819 a twenty-year-old man from New Hampshire finished a four-year apprenticeship in architecture and heeded the words of Horace Greeley to leave his New England home and go west, young man, go west.  He ended up in Savannah, Georgia.

    Twenty years later this same man would leave his Georgia home with a wife, two slaves, enough materials to build 50 cotton gins and the knowledge necessary to run a plant that manufactured them. His name was Daniel Pratt.

    We stayed last night in the town Daniel created for the workers in his cotton gin plant: Prattville, Alabama. Pretty took us on a tour of the historic downtown area this morning. We love an historic downtown area – particularly one as beautiful as this one. Imagine what this looked like in 1839 – before the Civil War – one man’s dream.

    Daniel Pratt was one of Alabama’s first industrialists

    Daniel has his own personal historic district now

    My friend had a bird’s eye view of the falls

    …and sat on the remnants of history

    Guess who else was from Prattville besides Daniel Pratt?

    Mustang Sally Wilson Pickett, Jr.

    Had to say goodbye to the wisteria and Prattville

    On the road again – Charly perches atop Yeti cooler

    Getting closer…

    Rest area, my you-know-what

    I am so tired. Please, God, get me out of this vehicle.

    Spike’s prayers were answered…we have stopped for the night in Slidell, Louisiana, which is 30 miles from New Orleans.

    We are sneaking up on it.

  • Do You Know the Way to…Tuskegee?


    The trip between Atlanta, Georgia and Montgomery, Alabama on I-85 is one Pretty and I have made at least a gazillion times in our years of wandering back and forth between Texas and South Carolina. We have our favorite welcome centers, rest areas, cheap gas prices with freshest candy bars convenience stores, and I am always impressed when Pretty remembers the exact location of a Zoe’s restaurant in every town that has one.

    Between Auburn and Montgomery, however, there is a road sign we always pass that says Tuskegee Airmen National Historic Site next exit. The conversation usually goes Hey, we need to see that, but we don’t have time. We’ll do it later.

    “Later” finally showed up yesterday on our trip to New Orleans.

    During WWII more than 10,000 African-American men and women worked at Moton Field to train military aviators, both pilots and bombers, for the war. The military at that time was still racially segregated, but patriotism was not.

    Pretty, Spike and Charly survey Moton field

    The dogs and I sent Pretty to tour the actual hangars and bring us up to date on the history, so she gets credit for the interior photos.

    Red Tails the nickname for Tuskegee fighters

    The airmen were educated in town at what was then known as the Tuskegee Institute and transported by bus every day to Moton Field which is a few miles from downtown. We followed that route from the National Historical Site to have a look at Tuskegee University today.

    Also a National Historic Site –

    started by Booker T. Washington

    Where modern architecture of today’s campus…

    …meets history around the corner at

    Booker T. Washington’s home

    The gates of learning still open wide

    to preserve the rich heritage

     of the historically black university that is Tuskegee

  • Post Cards from the Edge…of Time (2)


    February 11, 1907

    Dear Bessie, I love you. I miss you. Your husband, Luke

  • Post Cards from the Edge…of Time


    March 17, 1907

    Dear Luke, I miss you so much and am doing all the chores while you are away. Please come home soon. I love you always, your wife Bessie   P.S. It’s okay by me if you vote.

  • Casa de Canterbury: A Retrospective, Part III, Winter


    “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer” 

    Nope. Don’t think so,Will. At least not at Casa de Canterbury on this Sunday morning which is one of the last Sundays we’ll be in our casa before moving across the three rivers. Snow was noiselessly falling when I woke up today, and I thought that was a particularly appropriate Mother Nature trick in March after the azaleas, dogwood trees, red bud trees and all the other glorious colors had already popped out for us to enjoy too early. Now I am afraid the colors have an unpredictable future which is something we have in common with them.

    But this is a winter retrospective for Casa de Canterbury…brr…baby, it’s cold outside

    Canterbury Road, January, 2014

    Casa de Canterbury shivering

    The Red Man never liked snow – 

    hated to get his paws wet

    Slow never liked to get her feet wet, either

    The Red Man ruled Casa de Canterbury…

    …whenever it suited Paw Licker Annie –

    she was the Queen

    Chelsea just tried to find a place close to Red

    And speaking of finding a place –

    never good to be late to bed with Pretty

    and four dogs ahead of you

    Christmas at Casa de Canterbury, 2012

    All is bright

    Smokey Lonesome Ollie a bit disinterested in

    Number One Son’s Christmas gifts

    Paw Licker Annie found Christmas tiring

    Pretty Too loved Christmas

    But Pretty loved Christmas most of all

    Stay tuned – one more – spring. Summer, autumn, winter, spring.

    (Somebody should be packing instead of “retrospectiving.” Seriously.  Who can spell Packing P-r-o-c-r-a-s-t-i-n-a-t-o-r…)