RICHARDSON: I believe in ghosts
I knew the headline would draw your eye. When I say ghosts, I'm not talking about Casper the friendly ghost or some other person no longer among the living. No, I save that kind of talk for Halloween. I am talking about the bits and pieces of ourselves we leave behind wherever we go, particularly where we live and work.
As long as I can remember, whenever I've moved, after the truck is full of furniture and the last bit of stuff has been carted out of the house or apartment, I've spent a few moments alone with just the walls, ceiling and floors, remembering the good times — and some bad — that I've had there. We don't leave ghosts, but I do think our presence, or a piece of it, remains.
All of this came to mind last week when Bryan Nichols spoke at my Downtown Rotary Club. Nichols takes old, beaten-down properties and makes them new and livable again. He knows exactly what I mean by presence. He sees what others can't see. His first project, The Warehouse Lofts, on Fifth Street won him a national award. This was before downtown had a boom label. Rather, "bust" was written all over it. Everyone doubted his sanity for putting money in the area, particularly on Fifth Street, right where the homeless gathered.
Certainly it wasn't the most outstanding part of downtown, but he felt something. There was a presence of people who had lived and worked in that area every day for decades. Now, he and others had a chance to live there.
I went up to him after his talk and told him of my experiences, and I have three very distinct ones: The Douglass Theatre. When Otis III and his brother Dexter took the stage there several years ago, the spirits came out in force. You can tear down all the sheetrock you want, and they'd still be there. You can call it presence. You can call it magic. Whatever you call it, it comes back whenever live music is being played there.
Another place of magic that will soon be open again is the Capricorn Studio on Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. I visited there when Dr. Gregory Jones owned it, and it was still a working studio. No music was playing. The tape machines weren't turning. But echoes of music past was in the air. What little hair I have on my arms stood up. Behind the glass sat the ever cool Jaimoe. No, he wasn't really there, and no, I hadn't been drinking.
My third experience was also with Capricorn about 25 years ago at the offices on Cotton Avenue before many of the items were auctioned off. It was as if one day everybody left and just never came back. File cabinets were still there, contents in tack. Gold records were on the walls. Here was this place in Macon, Georgia.
Back to the present. Nichols had a slide presentation of before-and-after pictures of his projects, but one he told me about later was special. I think each of his projects are special. By the way, Nichols bought the Capricorn offices not knowing what he would do with them, only knowing they needed to be saved. He showed a slide of a small house across the street from our meeting at the Macon Marriott City Center that he bought before the Mill Hill community rehab was announced as part of the Macon Action Plan.
He said when he walked in the house, he got the sense that it formerly housed slaves. After some research, his hunch proved correct. But now after rehab, the home contributes to the revitalization of the Mill Hill community.
I think Nichols would get skittish if he hears too many people say he's on the right track with a project. He's so accustomed to the opposite. He takes risks because he says it feels good to see people's faces when you bring their neighborhood back. And he's open-minded. After saying the last thing he'd ever do is open a coffee shop, he's the proud owner of Taste and See Coffee Shop and Gallery downtown.
What's the lesson in all of this? Follow your heart. Listen to the ghosts and spirits in your life. Let them help you remember what's important. Let them help you take the time to listen to your heart. They always have something important to say.
Charles E. Richardson is The Telegraph's editorial page editor. He can be reached at 478-744-4342 or via email at crichardson@macon.com. Tweet @crichard1020.
This story was originally published December 12, 2015 at 5:45 PM with the headline "RICHARDSON: I believe in ghosts ."