Savannah, Georgia

As captivating as the city may customarily be,  the day that HM and I spent traveling through was kind of a bust.  It was cold and rainy, with wind.  Going further down had let us down. 

But, Dear Reader, before you dismiss whatever else I have to say about Savannah, let me hasten to assure you that there were redeeming moments (okay, perhaps even hours). My favorite were the few that we spent at the Prohibition Museum.

Wow.  Fascinating.
Photos were not prohibited here.
So, take a look, Viewer Dear.

Billy Sunday.  He was perhaps the most well-known Bible-thumping prohibition-promoting figure of the day. A real celebrity in the promotion of "morality."

I pondered this photo at length, Viewer Dear, before making up my mind that, were I to have the opportunity for time travel:  I'd post a Prohibition-era blog advocating  moderation in all ingested substances one tends to crave.

Do you recall, Dear Reader, the historical person of Carrie Nation (merely a rhetorical question, I must admit, as it's immaterial to my telling of the tale).  She carried a hatchet and did a number on the saloons of the day.

Standing at her full six feet of height and gripping her hatchet and a Bible,  there in the museum in Savannah this is only a wax figure of Carrie (fortunately or unfortunately, based upon one's inclination to enjoy a cold beer or a glass of wine with dinner now and then).

Ironically enough, I've got so many photos I've made it prohibitive for myself to throw them all upon your screen, Viewer Dear.  I'm going to have to do a little screening.

For more, you will need to search the internet for others who have over-indulged in prohibition-era photos. Or do a little time travel (it's long odds, but perhaps you are experiencing the Prohibition era itself (perhaps your dad's moonshine-making, family-supporting business was just busted up today!) or reading this from the Year 3019 or 3029, who's to say?).

To be continued another day.
From Savannah, I'm not quite ready to go away.