Author: Easin' Along

Back in the days before I retired and worked at a “real job” I built homes for a living. It was a career that suited me perfectly as it allowed me to be outside and doing as opposed to inside and sitting. Within a period of approximately 20 years, I built and sold 125 houses that ranged in size from 2,000 to 3,500 square feet primarily for buyers who were purchasing their second home. 

Throughout those days and continuing into the present, I loved looking through houses. When Helen (adorable wife) and I would attend conventions of the National Association of Home Builders we would always sign up for the home tours offered each year. After I left the building business, I took a part-time job inspecting foreclosed homes for HUD.  This job was probably the most fun I ever had while working.

Therefore, I find myself somewhat surprised that, until recently, I had never visited Biltmore House, the largest private residence ever constructed in America. One would think that this massive structure, located in nearby Asheville, NC, would have lured me long before now for a tour of both the home and gardens. Except for the fact that I don’t like crowds, I don’t have a good excuse…it just never happened.

When we began planning the trip we named “Bertha and the Beach” which called for a stopover in Asheville to visit our friends Sally and Bill, Helen was adamant that we book a tour of the Biltmore House. Once again, thinking about the crowds, I was a bit reluctant and put up mild resistance, but eventually relented and gave the go ahead.  As usual, Helen made the right call. The experience was fascinating and as much as I enjoyed learning about the construction details and looking over the furnishings, fixtures, and beautiful artwork found throughout this incredible structure, I most enjoyed just imagining what it would be like to live there.  

Just imagine that you are George Vanderbilt, son of the wealthiest man in America and had just inherited 13 million dollars in 1885 and were 23 years old. (That 13 million would be about 1.8 billion today). As George, a somewhat shy and introverted young man who never really had a job, you travel to Asheville, NC in 1888 with your mother and fall in love with the area. Over the next few months, you decide that you will use your wealth to build a 135,000-square foot French-style Chateau to have a place to live when you are not living in your other homes in Maine or Newport, RI.

Next, you begin to acquire 125,000 rugged acres in the Asheville countryside with a view of the Blue Ridge mountains and start a construction project that will last nearly six years and require over 700 workers. (Most of my homes took three to six months to complete with about five people on the site at any one time). Now imagine that it is 1895 and you move into a 250-room home with 33 bedrooms, 43 bathrooms with hot running water, electricity, an indoor swimming pool, a staff of hundreds…and you are single and worth millions.

Every morning you wake up to put on the clothes laid out for you by your personal valet, the first of several clothing changes that day, and either eat breakfast in your bedroom or have it served to you in the Breakfast Room.

After breakfast (and another change of clothes) you ride over a portion of your 125,000 acres and check out some of the three million plants that were ordered by Frederick Olmstead, the landscape architect who designed Central Park in New York City. Next, it would be time for afternoon tea served on the Loggia (think big concrete deck) where you could either read or take in the view of the Blue Ridge Mountains beyond the landscaped acreage.

At the end of this busy day, it would be time to dress once again for an evening with the distinguished guests who traveled from the northeast to visit Biltmore and the North Carolina countryside. Some of the guests will stay at Biltmore for a few days of horseback riding or hunting, but tonight they will be seated at a table for 38 in the banquet hall for a seven or eight-course dinner of wild turkey and vegetables grown in the Biltmore garden. Three or so hours later the guests will retire to the music room for entertainment or perhaps the gentlemen will follow George to the Bachelor Hall to view his gun collection while they sip brandy just before playing billiards in the billiards room. As I said above…It’s fun to think about.

Understandably, George eventually concluded that he needed someone to share all this excitement with and so in 1898, at the age of 33, he married the 25-year-old Edith Dresser and brought her to Biltmore…and gave her a bedroom of her own complete with staff to help her plan the social engagements. This marriage produced one daughter, Cornelia. As a Vanderbilt family, this idyllic lifestyle would continue for sixteen more years until George passed away in 1914 at age 51.

At the end of our tour, I remember thinking that it would be easy for some to have the opinion that George Vanderbilt was just some rich kid who inherited family money and spent it lavishly without ever doing much to earn it. I dismissed that opinion quickly. I contend that George, and his family that followed, did much to earn the money after they received it.  George spent years researching the design and the details before he turned the soil. He gave jobs to hundreds of unemployed North Carolinians, many of them African American. He created the first forestry school in the United States.  Some of the original land for Biltmore is now the Pisgah National Forest and thereby preserved forever. Today, Biltmore attracts a million and a half visitors a year and contributes 140 million dollars to the local economy and employs 1,854 hard-working people. I would say that Mr. Vanderbilt justified his inheritance and multiplied it many times over. 

Now, were I to find myself in George’s shoes…Vast riches, single, youthful, curious, able to build a castle, bring a young bride in after it was built (advantage George), entertain famous people from all over the world, leave a legacy for generations to admire…does that have any appeal?

Once again, I imagine myself as George probably did in 1889 looking over acres of barren red soil covered in patches of ugly briars. Knowing how it all turned out, I probably would find myself looking up with a big grin proclaiming loudly “Please throw me in that briar patch”!

Well done, George.  We truly enjoyed Easin’ Along with you on this trip.

I had never visited Savannah, GA.  Helen (adorable wife) on the other hand, had been there a few times while on gal-pal trips to nearby Hilton Head Island and was eager to return. Therefore, when we planned our Bertha and the Beach road trip, we made certain that Savannah would be one of the stops. We were not overjoyed about leaving Parris Island and Beaufort, SC because we had a great experience while there, but it was time to hitch up Bertha and move on.

We made a reservation at River’s End Campground in Tybee Island, GA, an hour and a half drive from Parris Island and about 15 miles east of downtown Savannah.  We arrived in mid-afternoon and were met by the campground staff and escorted to our campsite. The check-in process was very efficient and we set up quickly.  It was a very humid afternoon. The temptation to sit inside Bertha with the air conditioning running was strong, but Helen was in a rush to see the ocean so, to the ocean we went.

Tybee Island beach is wide and very pretty.  There were not many people out, but it was late afternoon and most beachcombers had departed for the day.  I was able to take a few pictures of the Tybee Island Lighthouse, a historic landmark that was originally constructed in 1773.

We had made reservations for three nights at the campground and had planned to spend the second day of our visit on the beach and exploring Tybee.  However, as we got into the news on our first evening, there were some projections that Hurricane Irma, now looming in the Atlantic, had Savannah in its path. We changed our plans and decided that we would explore Savannah instead.  That was the right call; it was sprinkling rain when we got up the next morning.

The town of Savannah, GA is charming, beautiful, and, as Georgia’s oldest city, is steeped in history. Wanting to see it all, we booked a trolley tour sponsored by the Visitor’s Bureau that allowed us to get on and off at various stops along the way. The trolley was full when we left and our energetic young tour guide was as entertaining as he was knowledgeable. 

We passed through the historic district at our guide pointed out some of the notable landmarks such as Forsythe Park, the home of Girls Scout founder Juliet Gordon Low, and The First African Baptist Church.  When we arrived at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, Helen and I got off the trolley to go inside.  The cathedral is stunning. The sanctuary is pictured here.

Soon, it was time for lunch and as we browsed through a gift shop we asked a manager where he liked to go for a good noon meal.  Without hesitating, his answer was Paula Deen’s restaurant, The Lady & Sons. “It’s real food and lots of it!” was his reasoning as he pointed us in the right direction. We found it easily and were sent to the elevator for our seats on the third floor.  This place was buzzing with activity. We were seated and chose the buffet primarily for the fried chicken and baked pork chips as well as the selection of green vegetables. Everything was well prepared and delicious and the dessert selection equally good. We could have taken a nap right there, but wanted to finish the tour. Back to the trolley stop, we went.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tour guide and trolley driver for the afternoon was a Mr. Hayes who had a sign on the back of his seat that declared him the “Conductor of the Year” for 2003.  He conducted the tour with well-rehearsed bits of information, punctuated with an abundance of one-liners that made for good entertainment.  We passed the Owens-Thomas House, built in 1819 and considered to be one of the finest examples of English Regency Architecture in America.

 

We also drove by the Pirate’s House where it is said that blood-thirsty pirates from the Seven Seas had gathered there since 1753 to drink their grog and share their exotic adventures while sailing from far off places like Bombay and Singapore. It is now operating as a restaurant.  We enjoyed the entire day tremendously, but it was time to go home and check on Bertha.

At the campground, there were many campers beginning to pack up and leave the area.  It seemed that Irma had chosen Savannah for a direct hit and campers were telling us that gas was getting scarce and the routes out of low-country Georgia were filling with Floridians. We checked with the campground staff and were told that evacuation was recommended, but not yet mandatory. Helen and I decided that since we would eventually be driving over the always congested North Carolina mountains to get home, that we would leave for Charleston in the morning and then on toward Knoxville early the day after. The winds were picking up.

That evening we made one last trip to the beach and watched while surfers took advantage of the heavy surf to catch waves.  They were very good, and the lovely beach made us want to stay even more, but common sense prevailed and we vowed to stick to the plan.

For dinner, we went to the highly recommended Crab Shack and it was awesome. The Crab Shack is basically an outdoor restaurant much like a covered porch.  The evening was hot and sticky, but every few minutes a fine mist was discharged from overhead piping and cooled the guests.  It was delightful.  Also, we enjoyed watching the many feral cats that hung around looking for a shrimp that might be tossed in their direction.

We chose Captain Crab’s Sampler platters of crabs, shrimp, crawfish, corn, potatoes, and sausage. The food was served quickly and served hot. It was perfect for our last evening at the beach. Outside the Crab Shack was a holding tank with live alligators. A few can be seen in the picture below…just look for the eerie eyes in the photo.

The next morning we were up and on the road early.  It was hard to leave a day early, but we knew it was better to be safe.  At the first service station, we topped off our gas tank but had to wait through a crowd of thirsty cars to do so.  Almost every car had Florida license tags.

Ultimately we made it home although by that time Irma had shifted to the western coast of Florida and was more of a heavy rain event when it hit Savannah.  Nevertheless, we still believed that with the information we were given, leaving early was the prudent thing to do.

Amid all of the history lessons we received in Savannah, the lesson we received most loudly was that Savannah and Tybee Island are beautiful places to visit. A great beach and wonderful food are the things we thrive on and we eagerly look forward to a return trip in the future.

We had a wonderful time on our Bertha and the Beach trip. Thanks for coming along with us. We hope to see you again soon as we go Easin’ Along the retired road.