Savannah, GA has become one of my favorite southern cities. Fortunately, it is also a favorite convention city as well. For that reason, I have traveled to visit Savannah many times over the years. On a few occasions, clients have put me up in the Westin Hotel and Convention Center located across the river. But I most often stay in a hotel right on the river front.

It is a special treat for me to visit the Savannah River Front. The pace there is leisurely and the food is terrific.

On one trip, I stayed at the Hilton Desoto Hotel in the downtown area. When I arrived there, I found the hotel to be over a mile from the river front. As good fortune would have it, the weather was ideal. The first evening found me taking a leisurely walk to my favorite restaurant. Little did I know I would be introduced to a part of Savannah that I had never seen.

What I discovered was a maze of cross streets giving way to beautiful historic squares. Towering, live oak trees graced the squares and streets as if they were standing guard over hallowed ground; their low, graceful limbs, hanging heavy with beards of silver Spanish moss.

It was eerily quiet in the evening air as I walked along. I stopped to read the inscription on the monument honoring English General James Edward Oglethorpe, who in cooperation with Chief Moto Chi Chi of the Creek Indians, founded the Colony of Georgia. I also discovered that half-breed, Mary Musgrove served as interpreter between the two and was instrumental in the negotiation of treaties. (I’m quite sure the term “half-breed” is no longer politically correct. As I understand it, my great-grandmother on the McCall side was a half-breed. So, there you have it.) Family records suggest I am 1/16 Cherokee or Choctaw.

I also discovered that President George Washington made a southern tour in 1781 where he visited the church founded by John Wesley and paid his respects to the widow of fallen Revolutionary War hero, General Nathanial Green of Rhode Island.

The ground on which I was walking was so steep in Revolutionary War and Civil War history, I found myself deeply moved.

As I left the downtown area for the river front, my mind turned to the thought of supper. (I say supper instead of dinner because I am in the deep, south on this evening.) But as I enjoyed the evening’s meal my thoughts returned again and again to my aforementioned walk. I was anxious to get started back to the hotel.

Soon, I was climbing the cobbled street that led me up and away from the river. As I entered the first of the squares which would take me back to my hotel, I noticed the night air was as pleasant as it could possibly have been. The evening was quiet and tranquil. Under the canopy of those live oak trees, I stopped to savor the moment. Then I heard it.

Just ahead, in the next square, a saxophone began to blare out the notes of “Amazing Grace.” I hurried ahead to see the player. On a park bench he sat, with a music stand in front of him. Sheets of music were awkwardly attached to the stand with giant paper clips. The player, an old, black gentleman, graced with curly white hair and beard, struggled with the notes as he played; but his rendition was nothing short of magical.

I eased around behind him out of sight and found a seat on a park bench where I feasted on the notes of his playing. He finished all too soon. As I sat in the stillness, giving thanks for the moment, I was treated to the most unexpected and delightful surprise. He began to play again. It was the same song – “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound” – only, this time, he played the flute. The sound from his instrument was light and sweet and joyful. The notes of his playing soared….as did my heart. Again, he finished all too soon.

There was a bucket sitting at his feet. You can bet I paid him well. But how do you compensate for that which is priceless?

Angela Alexander