Other reporters race to the phone to call the grieving relatives of murder victims to get their reaction. Others carry police scanners so they can speed to the scene of a gruesome accident to get freshly graphic photos.
In 20 years of journalism its never occurred to me to do such a thing. I guess thats the Savannah in me.
Like many people in town, I had known local photographer Jack Leigh was very sick for a long time, and that the illness would almost surely claim his life.
It was hardly a secret, but I could never bring myself to even tangentially refer to it in print, nor to bring it up with Jack himself. In true Savannah tradition, I figured if I ignored it, it would just go away. It didnt.
The last time I spoke to Jack was the Friday before he passed away. On his cellphone, he sounded as courtly and optimistic as ever.
I said, Jack, a little bird told me you might want to sit down for awhile and have a talk sometime soon.
Absolutely, he answered. Call me sometime Monday and well set it up.
It was a coded conversation between two Savannahians, a code that meant: Jack, I know youre dying and I want to do something to pay tribute. But I wont intrude on your privacy unless invited.
And it was Jack replying, also in the local code: Yeah, its time. Lets do this.
Silly, when you think about it. But there you go. It is what it is.
So I called that Monday to follow up. This time Jacks ex-wife Susan, by his side through much of the illness, answered.
I dont think hell be able to talk to you now, she said calmly. To tell you the truth, hes had a bad weekend and Im not sure hell be able to talk to you at all.
Susan was right. Jacks cancer claimed him last Tuesday night, the same evening we dedicated our Best of Savannah Party at McDonoughs to Jack himself, whose gallery was once again voted by our readers as the Best Photography Gallery.
I never did get a chance to have that last conversation with Jack. Truth be told, his photography and long record of community involvement were not even the main things I wanted to talk to him about.
I most wanted to talk with him about the remarkable family he leaves behind.
Susan Patrice Ive mentioned. Though the two were no longer married, the talented artist and community activist helped take care of Jack after it became apparent he was terminally ill.
Their relationship reminded me of what happened with my own divorced parents. Though the two had split nearly twenty years earlier, neither to remarry, my mother was by my fathers side when he fell ill with terminal cancer.
Jack and Susan had that same kind of relationship, a bond of family that, for awhile at least, transcended the reality of legal divorce.
I also wanted to talk with Jack about raising his two children, stepdaughter Jessica and daughter Gracie, and to compliment him on the fine job he did raising them both.
Jessica and my eldest daughter have been friends for years, so Ive had the pleasure of watching her grow up from a young age. Beautiful and sunny of personality, she has her mothers outgoing nature and quick intelligence.
Jacks influence on her is also clear; Jessica is artistically talented like her stepfather, and like him possessed of an intrinsic dignity and respect for others.
I dont know Gracie as well. But I will never forget her first day at Charles Ellis some years back, where my daughter also attended school. I remember her walking down the sidewalk on 49th Street, precocious and bespectacled, facing that daunting first day of school with a fragile but determined courage that was an inspiration to other children around her.
The rest of the world will likely remember Jack most for his immortal Bird Girl image that became the cover of the best-selling Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Jacks photo -- or one incredibly similar to it -- also adorned posters for the movie version. But Warner Bros. refused to credit him or compensate him. The studios stable of lawyers won the ensuing legal battle, but we all know better, dont we Jack?
In my younger days, I used to think it was indeed ones life work that would remain after we were gone. Its a romantic and commonplace notion, but Ive since learned that its not so.
Your truest legacy is your family and loved ones and the impact you had on them. That, not your art or your work, is what is most important in this life.
Jack was doubly blessed. In family as well as with art, his legacy lives on.
Bio: A native Savannahian, Jim has been editor-in-chief of Connect Savannah for ten years. The University of Georgia graduate is also a travel writer, authoring regional guides in the Moon handbook series...A native Savannahian, Jim has been editor-in-chief of Connect Savannah for ten years. The University of Georgia graduate is also a travel writer, authoring regional guides in the Moon handbook series.more
If I left, how far inland would I have to drive to be safe? How hard would it be to find a motel that would take in my cat and I? How would my cat act all that time in the car? She gets very unhappy in just the five-mile drive to the vet.
The ordinance was written by and for the entrenched interests of downtown property owners, seeking to preserve their dominance in the short-term rental market, and hoteliers seeking to limit the growth of new, competing supply in a market where they are already concerned with over-building.