2019 Eufaula Pilgrimage

“Skipper, maybe we should check the weather?”

My little buddy’s question kept repeating itself in my head, like an alarm clock ringing.  Like most annoying alarms, I hit the snooze.

As Tami and I sat outside Dunkin’ Donuts, sipping their world-famous joe, and munching on donuts saved from a drenching in pure sucrose (that’s for you, Deborah), the skies were threatening, and the air was heavy, but last year’s forecast was the same, and the weather held, so why the hell not go?

As our 0830 departure time approached, our intrepid fellow travelers arrived – Pam, with the Element, John Wesson in his Ford Flex, Russell and Cathy in their Pepper White MINI, and Tami and I in the little BMW barchetta.  Blitz swung in to wish us well, and offered his apologies, but he had work to do and we all understood.  So – we begin a BMCM outing without a single British car.  Bad omen?  Read on . . .

Heading west on AL 110, then US 82 was smooth and uneventful.  After our scheduled stop at Union Springs, we arrived at Eufaula about two hours after departure.  Despite the gray skies, the town was gussied up and ready for her visitors, with many houses open for tours, snacks and art on the street just to the east of US 431.  True to their word, tickets for retirees, active duty, and veterans were free.  Civilians paid $7 per home tour, with a discount for multiple homes.  Your welcome, for our service!

We began our tours at the Shorter Mansion, ground zero for historic information about Barbour County, the town, famous local residents, and leaders throughout the history of the state.  After this overview, we split into two groups, each visiting homes we had not seen in previous travels.  After completing these visits, both groups realized the weather was taking a marked turn for the worse.  John decided discretion would be the better part of valor, and decided to return to the mansion, recover his car and head home.  Tami, Pam, and I decided we had one more tour before the weather let go, so we headed to the Couric home.  Russell and Cathy decided to visit one of the outlying mansions on foot, a bold play, and as you will see a wet one.

About 10 minutes into our tour, we heard what we hoped was an artillery barrage.  Sadly, it was not.  It was the peals of thunder announcing a tempest.  Then came the rain and more rain and more rain and more rain and I think you are beginning to get the picture.  I ran the half block to the car to recover it and the ladies and would likely have been drier had I jumped into the Chattahoochee River.  Thanks to Pam’s umbrella, she and Tami were a bit drier when I swung by to pick them up.  Russell and Cathy were closing in on their location when the deluge started, and beat a tactical retreat to a building for some cover.  John, having changed his mind, decided he had one more tour in him, and was able to charm the house owner(!) into giving him a ride in her Porsche(!!) and riding around town to save his fellow travelers from Montgomery(!!!).  They found Russell and Cathy, and although they did not take up her kind offer, John and the Whighams had lunch at a local BBQ joint, and enjoyed themselves immensely.  Pam and Tami and I headed to the River City Grill and ate lunch, hoping none of us would catch pneumonia.  After our separate lunches, the intrepid team headed west, a little the worse for wear, and convinced of at least one thing.  Grumby will never lead a trip east again, not even a three-hour tour.  At least I wasn’t wearing a hoop skirt, like the town’s poor southern belles, the traditional hostesses of the Pilgrimage.

Hope to see you all in May, as we head northwest to Bessemer and a lunch visit to the Bright Star restaurant, the state’s oldest.

Jonas Grumby

PS – The locals told us the town dresses up again at Christmas time, with candlelight tours, and lovely holiday decorations.  Maybe I’ll have the TR electricals sorted by then . . .  JG