Articles

South Macon lessons will last a lifetime

Opinion by Jim wooten
Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jan. 3, 2006

On the Thursday before Christmas, standing on the hillside at Macon Memorial Park awaiting the arrival of the hearse carrying 84-year-old Ruth Tucker, I found myself at the nearby grave of Allen Carson Hardison, one of the boys of Willingham High School.

He lived to the age of 25. He was killed in Vietnam, one of six Willingham boys to die there. Quiet, handsome and easygoing Carson Hardison.

The hearse arrives. The mourners ascend the hill. Ruth comes now to take her place beside Fred.
Dear people, Fred and Ruth Tucker. Fred, who died 10 years ago, was, without ever pretending to be, the father figure a teenage boy from a South Macon housing project needed for stability and balance. Mrs. Tucker accepted me uncritically.

As South Macon district circulation manager for the Macon Telegraph and News, a job he held between stints at cotton mills in Macon and Thomaston, Mr. Tucker gave me time, conversation and grounding. He never lectured, never preached, never pried.

Riding the routes in his '59 Ford, in the deadness of interminably slow Southern summers, the paper boy and Mr. Tucker talked. About family. About dreams. About God. And as we did, his values became mine. Mr. Tucker was the honorable, good and decent man every child needs.

South Macon and its people gave bearing to my life. Even before the December afternoon, the year had brought forth a rush of memories, prompted by the publication in May of the book "31206", the South Macon ZIP code, written by a fellow Willingham graduate, Joe S. McDaniel.

Joe, a former coach, director of admissions at Mercer University and for more than 20 years the senior associate pastor at one of Macon's largest churches, Mabel White Memorial Baptist, decided there was something special about 31206. So he wrote the book, tracing the lives of 25 boys who attended the area's all-male high school between 1958 and 1970, when the name was merged out of existence. He graciously included me.

"I have always had such a soft spot in my heart for the citizens of South Macon, for those who grew up in the Peach Orchard, in Pendleton and Bowden Homes, behind old Powell's Pharmacy, on the dirt roads called Hudson Estates, and in deep South Bibb County where folks farmed the rich soil," says McDaniel, who now handles public relations for Macon's Mid Georgia Ambulance company. "Those stories needed to be told, and since no one else stepped forward, I decided, 'why not me?' "

South Macon was the wrong side of the tracks, Macon's less affluent side. It was Macon's sprawl, the side of town inhabited by families who a generation earlier had tilled the increasingly uncompetitive small farms throughout Middle Georgia.

Their city lives were defined by defense, politics and patriotism. No child of South Macon could ever discount the importance to their well-being of Robins Air Force Base and the naval ordnance plant, protected in Congress by Carl Vinson and Richard Russell. Many a family ate and bought college educations for their children because of jobs Robins provided.

South Macon was people like Fred and Ruth Tucker. Like Carson Hardison. Like the classmates whose stories McDaniel tells.

In the aftermath of World War II, in the flood of sharecroppers and their brethren and sistren who returned to find that the crops could no longer hoist another generation, they came with their dreams, and their work ethic, to settle in South Macon, determined to make life better for their children.

The common thread in the stories he tells, says McDaniel, are the parents. "Though not all had two-parent homes, every single guy (he writes about) noted the influences that their moms, dads or both had on them and their development." He continues:

"Their parents expected their sons to work hard and be honest, be good citizens, become more successful that they were, and to achieve in life. I found a strong sense of motivation and a drive to succeed. There was never any feeling of entitlement in these men. They never allowed their temporary circumstances to dictate their destinations."

Of the 25 men included, only two had parents who graduated from college, writes McDaniel in the introduction. Several had parents who finished no more than fourth grade. Yet they, and sometimes teachers, coaches and neighbors Ñ or a Mr. and Mrs. Tucker Ñ were involved in children's lives. Nudging forward. Shaping character. Planting dreams.

Jim Wooten is associate editorial page editor. His column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays.

Copyright 2006 The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. For more information: www.ajc.com.

Fair Use Notice

This site contains copyrighted material the use of which has not always been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. We are making such material available in our efforts to advance understanding of environmental, political, human rights, economic, democracy, scientific, and social justice issues, etc. We believe this constitutes a 'fair use' of any such copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, the material on this site is distributed without profit to those who have expressed a prior interest in receiving the included information for research and educational purposes.

For more information, visit: http://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/17/107.shtml. If you wish to use copyrighted material from this site for purposes of your own that go beyond 'fair use', you must obtain permission from the copyright owner.