Harrell: Sit on the shore and watch the boats go by

We had been trying what seemed like forever to get together with Jackie, who lives on the south side of Savannah. 

Our schedules were always off. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.  

Sometimes, you have to make a decision, quit pussyfooting around, and name a date. 

“Friday,” I said, “We’ll do lunch Friday. Put it on your calendar.” 

Tamela and I were coming in from Bluffton, so a halfway meeting point is downtown Savannah. River Street would be ideal, but on the weekend it's full of tourons, and parking is impossible. 

“Let's go to Old Fort Jackson,” I said. “It's right on the river. We'll pack a lunch, and watch the boats go by.” 

I haven't been to the fort since Mary and Dick Leech's child got married there. 

Must have been at least 15 years ago. Probably longer. I do remember it was buggy. 

Never really thought about who the fort was named for. The Jackson that came to mind was Andrew Jackson, Old Hickory, he of Waxhaws, seventh POTUS, devoted husband to Rachel, and founder of the Democratic Party. Fort Jackson in Columbia, South Carolina, carries his name.  

He is not our Jackson.  

Neither is Thomas Jonathan Jackson aka Stonewall, West Point graduate, Class of 1846, and credited with being the most gifted military tactical commander in U.S. history.  

Our fort on the Savannah River is named for James Jackson, 10 years younger than Andrew, a 15-year-old from Devonshire, England, who came to Savannah in 1722 to read law and early on became an avid patriot involved in the American Revolution. James had a temper, was an expert swordsman, and found a home in the political world with more than one brouhaha, most notably the Yazoo land deal. Governor of Georgia, member of the U.S. House of Representatives and the U.S. Senate as well as a war hero, admiring citizens of Georgia gifted him a home near Reynolds Square in Savannah. 

On Friday morning, I packed a sandwich, pickles, chips for each of us plus my faithful camping chair, a tatami mat, and bug spray. 

Tamela was bringing liquid refreshments and even more sandwiches. Jackie was in charge of dessert. 

It was half-past noon when we met in the parking lot, paid our entrance fees, and trudged up the path to the fort, which by the by is the oldest standing brick fortification in the United States, dating back to its earthen works of 1808, when President Thomas Jefferson developed his second line of defense, which was needed during the War of 1812. 

It was hot, sun high in the sky, barely a whiff of air coming off the river. 

Moving into the fort proper and discovering that the area on both sides of the quadrangle was covered and the seating at tables and benches in the shaded cool was a delightful surprise.  

We had no idea there was a treat waiting for us. 

In the fort were not one but three on-site educators, Ethan Baker, Walter Reeves and Aaron Bradford, the head site interpreter, each dressed in miserably hot wool and homespun Union Army uniforms of the Republican Blues.  

They were knowledgeable about the fort's history when it had been alternately occupied by Union and Confederate troops during the time of the Great Unpleasantness in the 1860s and were leading a group of school children, maybe sixth- or seventh-graders, through an interactive program of “Life as a Member of the Militia,” how to assemble for a charge with short people in the front line, how to fire a musket, march as a unit. 

There were a few young men who took it quite seriously, paying close attention as to how to load and use a ramrod on their genuine imitation muskets. 

And there were young ladies who dissolved into giggles trying to march in a straight line but were quite adept at Wigwag flags, an 1850 communication system using a binary code similar to the Morse code of dots and dashes. 

Tamela, Jackie and I loved it all. 

We ate, relaxed, caught up with our happenings, and didn't see the first bug. 

In case you are interested, this is a fine place for a birthday party, a wedding, a company get-together. 

Call events coordinator Julia Keating at 912-210-8398 or educational program director Megan Alstad at 912-312-4155.  

Or you can do what we did, put together a couple of sandwiches, bring your favorite camping chair, sit on the shore in the shade, watch the boats go by, and wait for the cannon to go boom. 

Annelore Harrell lives in Bluffton and can be reached at anneloreh@aol.com.