Mr. Write's Page

One of the advantages of living not far from Athens, Georgia, is being able to pop over to the University of Georgia campus and do stuff.

There’s plenty to do and see. There is the Georgia Museum of Art, the State Botanical Garden, the Horticultural Trial Gardens. There is Founder’s Memorial Garden, the elegantly-manicured home of America’s first garden club.

There are excellent campus walking tours. Hiking and biking trails at UGA’s Oconee Forest Park. A sizable sports museum. And that’s just at the University, not Athens itself.

As of a week ago, I’ve added another excellent destination to my list: the UGA Special Collections Libraries.

That’s libraries, plural, because there are three of them, all housed in the imposing new Richard B. Russell Building.

One is the political library, a massive store of printed and recorded political material from 1900 to the present. Among them are the papers of Georgia Senator Richard B. “Slippery Dick” Russell (from the same era as Richard M. “Tricky Dick” Nixon).

The second is the manuscript library, which contains rare books, documents, maps, photographs, and other printed records, some dating from the 15th century.

The third is the media archive, which preserves audio-visual material — a vast collection of films, videos, audiotapes, raw news footage, and home movies going back to the 1920s.

Much of the material in the libraries is Georgia-related, of course, but the University wisely snatches up anything worth preserving. For example, UGA owns a complete 20-volume set of The North American Indian by Edward S. Curtis, the landmark work documenting the native American tribes and cultures of the old west.

The three libraries are there for preservation and research. Everything is fully digitized and easily searchable online. Plus, if you can show the need, you can request material from the vaults to examine firsthand.

Ah, yes, the vaults. Beneath the Russell Building is a massive, climate-controlled storage chamber that houses the physical collections. The space is a honeycomb of rows and shelves and is equipped with robotic “order pickers.”

Naturally, casual visitors like Rocky Smith don’t get to see all that. Civilians go there to see the public exhibits — rotating displays that highlight some of the material stored underground.

On display right now:

– A collection of vintage microphones, speakers, and radios, 1913 to 1933.
– Paintings by Winston Churchill, with notes about each from the man himself.
– The story of the long battle to establish the national school lunch program.
– An extensive exhibit of photographs from the Edward Curtis collection.

“Mosa — Mohave” by Edward Curtis, 1903, one of the most mesmerizing photos in the Curtis collection. This is said to be the image that melted the heart of tycoon J. P. Morgan and persuaded him to fund the project when Curtis was broke.

Being a journalism major, a writer, and a former political speechwriter, I was enthralled.

A couple of hours later, aglow from the experience, I left the Russell Building and was walking back toward the parking deck. It was mid-week. The campus was aswarm with students.

On the lawn in front of the Russell Building, I paused to admire the beautiful, delicate blossoms on a small tree. I stepped closer to get a better look. I stood there, peering at the blossoms, enjoying the warm sun on my back.

“They’re cherry blossoms,” said a female voice behind me.

I turned around. It was Susie Coed, decked out in obligatory coed attire for a warm spring day: running shorts, running shoes, sunglasses, earbuds.

She had a blonde ponytail and an overstuffed backpack. Her smile was magnificent.

“I know my cherry blossoms,” she said. “I live in Virginia, close to D.C., where all the cherry trees are. They were a gift from Japan, a hundred years ago.”

It seemed surreal that this kid would strike up a conversation about flowers with some old dude on the street, but there it was.

“I lived in Falls Church back in grade school,” I told her. “I remember the cherry blossoms around the Tidal Basin. They were spectacular.”

She gestured toward the row of young trees along the walkway. “They planted these last year. They’re doing great!”

“They sure are. I was debating whether to take a photo.”

“Absolutely!” she said, hefting her backpack and turning to continue on her way. After a few steps, she looked back over her shoulder.

“Always get the photo!” she said. “Always!”

Sound advice, indeed.