March to the Sea

March 4-6

When we watched the news on Monday, we learned that tornados had destroyed a large area of a county about 90 miles south, not far from Montgomery. Several people were killed by winds that ran up to 175 miles an hour. 

We were safe and had not passed very near the tornado zone at all.

We had one more day in Birmingham, which isn’t as interesting a place as I had hoped. A Google search had turned up one promising prospect, the Historic Fourth Avenue Business District.

So we decided to take a look. It turned out to be well worth an hour’s stroll. 

It is the site of a Jim Crow-era section of the city where Black-owned businesses were concentrated. It reminded us of the so-called Black Wall Street in Chapel Hill, N.C.

White-run banks, barber shops, bars, diners, clothing stores—you name it—either barred Black people altogether or treated non-white customers shabbily.

As a result, a segregated parallel economy grew up in most cities. And not only in the South. Just think of Harlem.

One of the unintended consequences of desegregation, though, is that the spending by the Black clientele was no longer concentrated in the area. As a result, many of the businesses went downhill and eventually failed.

Today, there are landmark theaters that still stand. The Lyric is used by a local theatrical group. The Alabama, a movie theater that opened early in the talkies era as “The Showplace of the South,” is now a multi-use landmark for concerts, weddings, and other large-scale functions.

Eddie Kendricks Memorial Park is down the street from the Alabama theater. He was front man for the Temptations, and Birmingham was his home town. 

We stopped for lunch at Seafood King, near the hotel, and shared a pound of boiled crawfish. I love crawfish, especially boiled deep-red and served with the legs and whiskers on.

Tuesday we left Birmingham for a layover in Madison, Ga. 

One of the distinctions about Madison is that Sherman didn’t burn it. Many of the houses along the streets of its old town predate the Civil War.

We got into town early and went to the historic district. A building that used to be the firehouse is now the welcome center.

That’s where we met Nina, a former New Yorker who has lived in Madison for about 20 years or more.

She gave us maps, tips on things to look for, even asked where we planned to have dinner. I said two places looked very interesting, the Madison Chop House and Town 220. Nina recommended Town 220.

She told us that Sherman spared the town because a pro-Union Senator named Rush, who had represented South Carolina, had a home there. 

There’s another, more colorful story. They say Sherman didn't torch Madison because his mistress lived there. Although it’s not true, she said, but she likes this story better. “I say I don’t gossip, but when it comes my way … ”

The historic district mostly contains Victorian, ante-bellum Greek Revival, and Federal era buildings. A fire, not set by Sherman’s army, destroyed 30 or more buildings later in the 19th century. Some of the Victorians may have been built after that fire.

The weather was chilly, so we were back in our overcoats. It was pleasant when we could walk in the sun and chilly in the shade.

Town 220 is at 220 West Washington Street, in what a historical marker calls the industrial corridor, which is along the railroad tracks. 

The restaurant is in a restored building that, as I judge from the shape and location, may have been a warehouse. Now it’s a conference center with an interesting restaurant. 

We entered on the ground floor and had a touch of deja vu. We stood in the lobby and looked into the restaurant below. It put us in mind of the Kornhaus in Bern.

It has the first menu we’ve seen in a while that lists escargot, so we started by

sharing a plate of snails. 

My steak was tender and pink inside, the frites a bit salty and soft, but still good. 

Joanna enjoyed her roast chicken, which came with a variety of vegetables, including grilled carrots and sweetpeas in the pod.

I’ve decided to give beer a rest for a few days so my clothes will continue to button. I tried a California pinot noir that was so mellow and dry that I had another glass of the same thing instead of trying a different wine, like the French merlot on the list.

Wednesday we spent about four hours going to Charleston. 

We stopped at the South Carolina welcome center and learned of a more scenic route to take. Most of it followed U.S. 78 from the town of Aiken almost due East to the coast. 

On the way, Joanna got a chance to visit a cotton field, something she has wanted to do since we left Hilton Head in January.

That’s when we got the photo of the day.

With the time zone change, it was about four that we got to the hotel, a Best Western at Patriots Point in Mount Pleasant, S.C., just across the river from Charleston.   

By then, after a light breakfast, a handful of nuts and fruit for lunch, and a stroll through a cotton field, we were ready for dinner. 

We have more options in the neighborhood here. A search turned up Grace & Grit, which has a menu that I can only describe as hip Confederate food. 

For instance, I had pan-roasted mahi-mahi, which had a savory brown crust and came on top of butternut squash grits, cauliflower, and pecan jam. A strange combination of flavors, yes, but also delicious.

I don’t expect to wake up one day with a craving for it, the way I do sometimes for red meat or oregano, but it was delightful.

Joanna wasn’t so lucky. She has been looking forward to having Southern fried chicken. But this may be the downside of being hip. 

The chicken came as a filet of white meat, without bone or skin. So the meat was more like eating a chicken tender than real chicken. 

The fried Brussels sprouts, were frizzled, like those crispy onions they sometimes serve in bars, so they were OK. The collards were abundant and nicely vinegary.

The chicken came with hot honey on the side. I tried a bit of it with bread. It may not literally be honey at all. It was sweet, but not honey flavored and was very runny liquid. 

It had a touch of heat. If there was any honey at all, it was possibly mixed with a vinegar base. 

The pinot noir, which we both drank, was even better than the one at Town 220. It had a stronger flavor and a nice, sharp finish.

So we’ve completed our march to the sea, or at least to Charleston Harbor. We plan to occupy the territory for a few days and then take a week to head north.

Good night, everyone, and may all your wanderings be fortunate.

Harry