This must be the place: ‘It’s somewhere I know, every piece I ever have found’
Savannah, Georgia.
Garret K. Woodward photo
Hello from Room 8 at the Atlantis Inn, located in downtown Tybee Island, Georgia. It’s Monday morning and I’m currently sitting on the small balcony attached to the room. Sunshine overhead, the ocean just a block away.
This is the final day of an extended road trip down to Saint Augustine, Florida, and back to my humble abode in Waynesville. I’ve been gone for the better part of the last three weeks, albeit working remotely and unrelentingly, as per usual.
The news never stops, nor does my eternal quest of wandering and pondering. Thus, here I sit on this balcony, reflecting on this latest trek.
I just finished up a quite enjoyable breakfast with a new friend at the Sunrise Restaurant, just a stone’s throw from the inn. She and I talked at length about our respective lives, families, friends, dreams and aspirations, all while swapping wild-n-out tales from the road. We’re both restless old souls in constant motion and in search of unique people, places and things.
It was a little over a week ago when we initially crossed paths in Saint Augustine, Florida. We each attended the Sunday night finale of rock juggernaut Widespread Panic’s sold out three-night run at the Saint Augustine Amphitheatre. We didn’t know one another, at least not yet. Well, that was until we were two of the last people leaving the show, myself trying to order an Uber back into downtown. She ended up standing next to me by chance.
The first thing I noticed was the hat she was wearing, a Montucky beer cap, a beloved Rocky Mountains brand that I’ve been doing some work with as of late out west (interviewing bands at festivals Montucky sponsors for the brand’s socials). Anyhow, I said, “Hey, nice hat. Montucky is a great company.” She smiled and replied, “Thanks. I don’t know anything about the beer. It was just a cool hat that my ex-boyfriend owned. I took it when we ended things.”
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She then told me she had initially thought about not coming to the show, seeing as her two friends bailed at the last minute. But, nonetheless, she wanted to see Panic in all its glory, and if it meant flying solo, then so be it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I concurred, seeing as I also went to the concert alone. I even had an extra press ticket, which I ended up giving to a random person in search of a miracle outside of the venue before the gig.
The night was still young and she asked where I was headed. I said over the Bridge of Lions and back into downtown Saint Augustine, specifically Trade Winds Lounge (an iconic dive bar) for the late-night band. “If it’s cool with you, I’d like to join you and see some music,” she asked. Sure, no problem. Let’s go. She seemed like good folk and nice company. So, why not, eh?
The simple beauty of time and place, of genuine conversation and sincere interaction. Sitting in Trade Winds, we learned about each other’s path in life. She’s originally from Baltimore, Maryland. Went to college in Virginia. Lived in Charlottesville for a period. Bounced around the country in the name of live music and irresponsible enlightenment (of which I found great solidarity), and now has called Jacksonville Beach, Florida, home in recent years.
I told her about growing up on the Canadian Border in Upstate New York, attending college in Connecticut, living out west in my early 20s, and what it’s like being a journalist in Western North Carolina for the last 14 years. Soon, stories started pouring out of me about unreal interviews and unforgettable moments of pure bliss, whether it be in the presence of live music or merely a sit-down conversation with some vibrant soul somewhere for an article.
The next day, I invited her to the beach. I enjoyed the previous evening, so let’s rev the engine up again and keep the banter going. Kind souls mingling at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean. I wanted to go during low tide, so it was decided to rendezvous at the Saint Augustine Pier in the late afternoon. Beach chairs and blankets. Sunglasses and cold beer. Sunset and crashing waves. Laughter, too.
She spoke about the dynamics of her family, with her siblings scattered across America and Europe, her folks splitting time between Florida and their home in Connecticut. Then, she dove deep into what she’s passionate about: music, travel, interior design, fashion, collecting vintage items from antique stores and thrift stores (all of which combining into her magnetic personality).
I peeled back the layers of my own family dynamics, the emotional whirlwind and sometimes rollercoaster ride that is being a human being living and working nowhere near his family or hometown, and the stresses that puts on having older parents, the sometimes lonely feeling of being on your own and out in the world. And yet, that’s what it takes to continue to pursue my wildest dreams in real time — provoke the chaos of the universe, I say.
Before I headed back to WNC, I had decided to swing by Tybee Island for a night after leaving Florida. She mentioned to me that she’d never been to Tybee before. “Well, when do you have to work next?” I asked on Sunday when I was packing up my truck in Florida. “Not until Wednesday,” she replied. Next thing I know, we’re caravanning over state lines to Tybee.
Parking at the Atlantis Inn, we strolled down to the beach. It was windy, but sunny. A tad cool, but the view was worth any goosebumps. Unroll the beach blanket and bury your toes in the sand. A week into this friendship and interaction, plans were coming into focus when to see each other again. Maybe late April at MerleFest? Maybe later this spring when I plan to head up to Maine for an extended trip to work on a big book project (more on that later).
Who knows? Who cares? The current moment on the Tybee beach is the only priority. With the sun slowly falling behind the island bungalows, it was decided to grab some pizza at Farace’s and track down a game of pool at Quarter’s. Not to mention a quick stop at Huc-A-Poo’s to show her the legend and lore of that surreal, captivating place, which is filled to the brim with cherished misfit toys (my favorite kind of people).
By the next morning, time for breakfast and time to part ways, but not before a leisurely walk along the river in downtown Savannah. Admiring the ancient trees canopies in seemingly every direction, the Spanish moss wafting in the breeze. Reading any historical markers that we wandered by. Until next time.
Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.
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Cheers to new friends and new adventures!
Wednesday, 04/15/2026
