This column is about another Athens I had the pleasure of experiencing, one summer, many years ago. A number of states have towns named “Athens” – or “Savannah,” for that matter. This one was about 65 miles southeast of Dallas, and surrounding towns were named (as I recall) “Helen, Paris, and Troy,” leading me to suspect that some school teacher was married to either a county commissioner or a Governor; and persuaded them to name new towns on names from famous Greek literature!

I signed up for a summer job, the year before my senior year in college, after attending a presentation by a sales manager for a publishing company in Nashville, TN, that promised “above average pay” for selling a variety of their publications in selected towns across the southeastern US.

Since my prior summer jobs in the family wholesale hardware business had involved minimum-wage pay for mostly warehouse work, I thought I would try it.

Pay was by commissions, but the promise was that, if you sold enough, you’d make enough to pay your living expenses, and have a sizable amount left over. So I thought I’d try it. And was assigned to Athens , Texas, and its surrounding areas, along with a fellow I’d never met before, who was from Athens, GA.

For some reason (watching Westerns on TV?), I’d imagined that Texas was all desert and tumbleweeds, with occasional cities in-between.

Imagine my surprise when we got there, and I discovered that east Texas was just like north GA – rolling green hills! I was so surprised.

The people there were very friendly, and welcoming to two young students from the east coast.

We were only there for a couple of months, but I was very impressed with their warmth and overall friendliness.

Back then (1970’s), people were not as wary of strangers; and we found a room for rent at a widow’s home through the local Baptist Church.

I don’t remember what she charged us for rent, but it wasn’t much. We had to buy our own food, of course, and had to cook our own meals, and clean up afterward. All reasonable; I will never forget her kindness in allowing us to stay in her home that summer.

Although I was brought up Catholic, and Doug was a Baptist, we wound up going to Miss Lespa’s Presbyterian church that summer, and I remember being very impressed with its pastor, Rev. David Ward. He was personable, down-to-earth, approachable and kind. Everything I thought a pastor should be.

I had a car, that summer, Doug did not. So we traveled in different directions, him on foot; we mapped it out each night, so that we didn’t overlap.

I met my share of people, that summer! It was a true learning experience, one I have never forgotten.

Two events from that summer that I’ve never forgotten. The first night we arrived in town, we got a room ($5!) at the only hotel in town, a two-story wooden building that stood next to a set of railroad tracks. The old lady who ran the place proudly told us that her daddy had built the place, about the time she was born – so it was really old! The other thing was, she said a “milk train” went behind the building every morning about 4 AM, and she said, “The hotel will shake so bad you will think it is going to fall down – but it won’t!”

I remember laughing to myself, thinking, “Yeah, right!” But, you know what – at 4 AM the next morning, that’s exactly what happened!! I woke up to what I thought was an earthquake, ready to grab my clothes and run – but then I remembered her admonition, so made myself wait; and sure enough, things soon settled down.

What a surprise that was!

The other thing I’ve never forgotten was “Big Rock Ranch.” That is what it was called. A few miles west of town, with a huge rock outcropping in the middle of it. (Think Stone Mountain, only smaller.)

I went up there one day, just to have a look, and found the view from the top gave me a view for miles around! Sort of like Lookout Mountain, in Tennessee, or Brasstown Bald, in north Georgia.

What a summer that was! I didn’t make the money I thought I was, but I did come out ahead of expenses, so it all worked out in the end. And I met some really interesting people along the way.

Isn’t that what Life is really all about?

Rafe Semmes is a proud graduate of (“the original”) Savannah High School and the University of Georgia. He and his wife live in eastern Liberty County, and are long-time Rotarians. He writes on a variety of topics, and may be reached at rafe_semmes@yahoo.com.