Feeling the way I do about the city now, it's odd to recall that before receiving my orders to report to Ft. Stewart, GA, I knew almost nothing of Savannah. I knew about the elegance of Charleston. I knew of the rolling good time to be had in New Orleans. I knew there were plenty of wide and breezy front porches between the two cities so naturally Savannah would have it's good share. That was really all I had to go off of in forming a mental picture of the place.
As with anything that provokes a passion; it's hard for me to be brief when sharing words that orbit so close to the heart. In speaking to visitors about Savannah I often resort to an analogy of my own creation to keep myself on track and share the gist of my sentiment. It goes as follows.
Charleston, Savannah and New Orleans are like three sisters. Charleston is the one that married young, to a proper gentleman as she always hoped. She is wealthy, composed, beautiful, though she has her chin held a little high. She will extend courtesy, but she isn't very likely to let you in. New Orleans on the other hand ran away at sixteen with the biker crowd. She has been around the block and has the scars to prove it. She knows all the cool musicians, is steeped in the arcane and wholly committed to exploring the pleasures of life. Though a little rough around the edges, she's as beautiful as ever. Then we have Savannah. Savannah with the grace of her sister to the North and the wild edge of her sister to the South. Savannah with the calm, confident beauty to match them both. She is the sister in the sundress with a hint of danger in her eyes. Approachable and open in a way that makes you think she could even be yours one day.