Family. Food. Football. To the typical American, those three words define the Thanksgiving holiday. But to me, at least in 2025, Thanksgiving weekend was defined by another F-Word, and that word was ‘Forty’.
At 5:52am on Thursday November 27, 2025, my travel companion and trusty photographer Tom, his wife Vicki, and I were in the family Truckster and headed South towards the state of Georgia. The primary goal of our six-day adventure was to visit the final resting place of President Jimmy Carter, and at number forty, would once again fulfill my quest to visit every Presidential gravesite. My camera guy had numerous other historic sites penciled in on his agenda as well, but the Carter gravesite was the reason for the excursion.
Ever since July 25, 2019, when we made our first visit to the final resting place of George H.W. Bush in College Station, Texas, Tom and I have boasted about seeing all 39 Presidential gravesites. But when Jimmy Carter passed away on December 29, 2024 and was laid to rest at his home in Plains, Georgia two weeks later, our bragging rights were forced to stop. No longer could the two of us say we had visited every Presidential gravesite – and that has bothered my photographer and me for the past eleven months or so. But now, with any luck during the 900-plus mile drive to the Southern part of Georgia, that was about to change.
The weather was overcast, very windy, and the temperature was hovering close to freezing at the outset of our trip. Traffic was heavy through Detroit, which was expected because of America’s Thanksgiving Parade that morning and the Lions football game scheduled for one o’clock. Once we were through the Motor City, however, we had clear sailing with little semi-truck traffic all the way through Ohio. Even when we arrived at the usual traffic snarl in Cincinnati where motorists cross the Ohio River into Kentucky, traffic on the bridge was a non-issue – and that was a welcomed surprise.
At 11:50am, we arrived at the pre-designated place where my photographer and his wife had planned to have their Thanksgiving dinner – the Cracker Barrel in Richmond, Kentucky. As soon as Vicki pulled into the parking lot, it seemed as though everyone else in the area was having dinner there as well. But after a 15-minute wait, the three of us were seated at a table for two in the corner of the packed restaurant. As soon as Tom and Vick took their seats, I heard my photographer say aloud, “Nobody puts baby in the corner.” I shook my head, smiled, and thought to myself, “Did he just call me baby?”
Following their Thanksgiving dinner, which my fussy photographer said was “okay” and “I could’ve eaten more turkey and taters”, the three of us boarded the Jeep and continued the long journey South. For the next three hours, my companions and I listened to the radio as the Detroit Lions hosted the Green Bay Packers; and once again, our beloved Lions managed to crap the proverbial bed. During the game, Tom couldn’t say enough bad things about Detroit’s head coach Dan Campbell. In fact, he called Campbell a lot of names and words I can’t say here; except for one – reckless.
Just as the game clock at Ford Field hit zero at the end of the Lions 31 to 24 loss to Green Bay, we arrived at the Comfort Inn in Athens, Tennessee. Tom unloaded their belongings from the back of the Jeep while his wife registered in the lobby. While the sky was cloudless in the late day’s Sun, the temperature in that area of the Volunteer State was only 40 degrees, which to me seemed low; even for late November.
Once inside our room, I was placed alongside the television set as my photographer watched the Kansas City Chiefs battle the Dallas Cowboys while Tom’s wife was consumed with Instagram posts on her phone. After the ‘Boys held off America’s most-hated team for a 31 to 28 victory, my camera guy attempted to get through the day’s final game – which featured the Cincinnati Bengals visiting the Baltimore Ravens; a contest held in one of our country’s most crime-infested cities. But early in the game, I saw Tom’s eyes begin to close and I knew his full day of football was coming to an end.
By 8:40pm, the television was turned off, and Tom extinguished the lights in our room. It had been a productive day, one that put us within 170 miles of the first two sites of our trip – Stone Mountain and the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library and Museum, both of which were located only a handful of miles Northeast of downtown Atlanta.
Although I had visited the Carter Library back in 2019 with Tom and Vicki during our tour of the Southern states, I’ve never been to Stone Mountain – which features a huge bas-relief carving of three Confederate “heroes” on the mountain’s North face. The mountain has been in the crosshairs of controversy over the past ten years or so when folks of a certain ethnicity demanded the sculpture be removed because of its association with white supremacy groups and the Ku Klux Klan.
Considered by many as the ‘Mount Rushmore of the South’, I wasn’t sure what to expect or what we would encounter during our first-ever visit to Stone Mountain. One thing was for certain, however – if we were to cross paths with anyone dressed in a white robe and hood, I’d be on the Midnight Train Out of Georgia.
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Tom’s alarm went off at 5:30am on Black Friday, November 28, 2025. My photographer was up earlier than his usual time because he wanted to be on the road by seven-thirty, which surely wasn’t music to Vicki’s ears. But my photographer’s wife was a good sport; she got herself ready and packed, and the three of us left the hotel in Athens, Tennessee just as the Sun was rising over the Eastern horizon at 7:22am. While there weren’t many clouds in the morning sky, there was frost on our Jeep, and the temperature was a “balmy” 23 degrees. As a matter of fact, I was so cold when Tom placed on the backseat of our vehicle, my resin nipples were poking through my vest, and I was experiencing a severe case of shrinkage.
With Vicki behind the wheel of our Grand Cherokee, we crossed the border into the Peach State at 8:09am. Although traffic seemed normal in Northern Georgia, it became more congested when we got closer to Atlanta – and that was no surprise. Thankfully, our Siri GPS navigation system guided us North of downtown Atlanta and we arrived safely at Stone Mountain at a few minutes before ten o’clock. Once my camera guy’s wife shelled out twenty bucks for the entry fee, we were parked and headed out on foot to see the famous and controversial ‘Mount Rushmore of the South’.
During our hike from the parking lot, I heard Vicki question her husband as to whether or not the site would be worthy of twenty dollars. Tom tried to pacify his concerned wife when he said in his Clark W. Griswold voice, “This is going to be similar to Mount Rushmore, and you liked that. And look at the bright side, Ellen – it’ll be better than driving to see the largest ball of twine on the face of the Earth or visiting your cousin Eddie.”
Our semi-lengthy walk took us past the Summit Skyride to an area in front of a large museum where we got our first look at the famous figures carved onto the Northern face of Stone Mountain. My initial reaction could only be described as a kid who axed Santa to bring them a ten-speed bicycle for Christmas, but the kid received a set of encyclopedias instead. I looked out of the camera case and saw the stunned, blank look on my companions’ faces – it reminded me of the Griswold’s when they arrived at Walley World, and discovered the park was closed.
There they were, roughly a quarter mile away, carved into the side of Stone Mountain – the figures of three men proudly seated on horseback. The sculpted likenesses were of Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, and Thomas ‘Stonewall’ Jackson, all leaders of the Confederacy during the Civil War. Those men were heroes in the eyes of the Southerners, but traitors to the folks loyal to the United States of America.
Heroes or traitors, it didn’t matter to me at that point. Stone Mountain was lackluster, and the carved figures didn’t give me the “Wow Factor” that the four Presidents sculpted onto Mount Rushmore had provided.
Seconds after my initial disappointment had faded, a silver lining appeared out of the proverbial black cloud that hung over Stone Mountain. We discovered Jimmy Carter had paid a visit to the controversial site twice. His first visit came while serving as Governor of Georgia in 1972 after the memorial was completely finished, and his second trip to Stone Mountain came on January 1, 2019 when Jimmy and Rosalynn visited the site together.
After I had posed for a few photos alongside the pathway behind the museum, Vicki suggested the three of us hike to the base of the mountain where we might get a better view of the sculpted figures. At first, Tom scoffed at the idea. One reason was the word “hike” was like nails on a chalkboard to my out-of-shape photographer. And second, Tom believed the sculpture would look nearly the same no matter how close we got to it.
Seconds later, Vicki was off like a bat out of hell – she was on a mission to get a lot closer to Davis, Lee, and Jackson. I laughed to myself because I hadn’t seen her move that fast since our July visit to The Found Cottage in Hudsonville, Michigan. In an effort to save some precious steps, Tom took the more direct and downhill ‘off-the-beaten-path’ route instead of following the long and winding paved walkway that led visitors to the base of the mountain.
When my camera guy and I finally caught up with Vicki, we were at the end of the Confederate ‘Yellow Brick Road’ which had taken us to an alcove called Valor Park, located at the base of Stone Mountain. Once Tom caught his breath, the two of us looked up and saw the three Confederate leaders in a different light. Those men were still traitors, but we could clearly see the three-dimensional aspect of the carving from the closer proximity. The monument still wasn’t overly impressive, but it looked better than it did from further away. I chuckled to myself because my photographer found it difficult to admit his wife was right. In my mind, Vicki’s idea was pure genius.
But there was more to Valor Park than just the mountain view. At the Eastern end of the alcove, we saw a monument that featured an unnamed Confederate soldier holding a broken sword above his head. The etched wording on the monument’s base read, ‘Men who saw night coming down about them could somehow act as if they stood at the edge of dawn – A Confederate soldier shortly before his death.’
Located only a short distance from that monument was the flag court, which featured four Confederate flags flying alongside the flag of the United States of America. While protestors and Civil Rights leaders have demanded that all Confederate flags be removed from the park, a Georgia law protects the flags, as well as the Confederate carvings on the mountain’s face. Like it or not, those three traitors and their Rebel banners were there to stay.
Are you wondering when Stone Mountain got its controversial start? A dozen years before Gutzon Borglum began working on Mount Rushmore, the famed sculptor began his carving of Confederate heroes into the face of Stone Mountain in 1915. Ten years later, however, Borglum was fired when he butted heads with officials over the lack of funds, the overall design of the project, and the monument’s connection to the Ku Klux Klan. By 1925 when he was fired, Borglum had partially completed Robert E. Lee’s head, which was subsequently blown off the face of the mountain when a new artist began work on the project.
The Stone Mountain Memorial took on a new life in the mid-1950s during the Civil Rights era but didn’t pick up a lot of momentum until 1964. As a matter of fact, Martin Luther King, Jr. mentioned the Confederate Memorial in his 1963 ‘I Have a Dream‘ speech when he said, “Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia”. King chose to mention Stone Mountain in his speech because of its connection to the re-emergence of the Ku Klux Klan in 1915.
As I posed for a handful of photos in Valor Park, I understood why certain groups wanted the carvings on the mountain’s face destroyed and the flags of the Confederacy removed. While I believe we should not erase our past mistakes from the history books nor hide the truth from our children and grandchildren, we should also not honor or pay tribute to the leaders who committed treason against the United States of America.
Stone Mountain Park officially opened on April 14, 1965 – 100 years ago to the day when Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. In my mind, the world’s largest bas-relief sculpture on the face of Stone Mountain was a direct slap in the face of Lincoln – a true hero who gave his life to help preserve the same nation those three men attempted to divide. We should never forget, distort, or alter our country’s historical record, but we should also not honor those who chose to destroy our nation or its legacy.
The long, uphill trek back to the Jeep was an exhausting one for my photographer who had sworn off hiking since his infamous ‘Hike from Hell’ in 2022. But unlike Jimmy Carter during his visit in 2019, Tom wasn’t able to hitch a ride in a golf cart. Instead, he was forced to walk – and it was uphill all the way. Even though my fat friend took breaks every few minutes during the long hike back to the Jeep, I was impressed by his fortitude. I wasn’t quite sure if his incentive was the Tootsie Rolls and Diet Coke that were waiting for him, or the fact that our next stop was the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library, which was only fifteen miles away.
By 11:45am, when we arrived at the Carter Library, the noontime temperature had risen to the high 40s, which I figured would make our outdoor photography tolerable. My first visit to the site came on July 12, 2019, which was only two days before Tom, Vicki, and I met the President at his hometown in Plains.
But this visit would be different; one filled with sadness and reflection. The three of us could no longer expect to meet the President in Plains, but instead we would be paying our respects and personal tributes to a great man who passed away on December 29, 2024 at the age of 100. One of our primary goals over the next few days was to visit the sites associated with President Carter’s passing; along with his funeral and burial that followed.
The first place on our itinerary was the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library and Museum where the President laid in state from 7pm on January 4th to 6am on January 7, 2025. As you look at the photos of me posing at various locations on the grounds, as well as inside the museum, please take a moment and think about President Jimmy Carter and his unselfish contributions to our nation. As I thought about the life and legacy of President Carter, including the moment when I posed alongside of him at his church, I realized what a special human being and National Treasure he was. Jimmy Carter was a genuine humanitarian filled with integrity, honesty, humility, faith, and the love for his fellow man – no matter their social status. Our nation lost an amazing human being when Jimmy Carter left this Earth on December 29, 2024.
Our hearts were filled with a ton of joy and a little sadness when we left the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library and Museum at roughly 1:45pm. But the three of us knew we had a countless number of Carter sites left to see on the trip, including Jimmy’s final resting place in Plains – a visit that was slated for the following afternoon.
With several hours of daylight left, Tom decided we had enough time to drive through Atlanta and get closer to Warm Springs where he and his wife could find a place to spend the night. I figured with the Friday afternoon rush hour traffic, we might not get through Atlanta before sunset – but it turned out I was wrong. While we weren’t alone on Interstate 75, the traffic was surprisingly light, and we made it out of The ATL unscathed.
Roughly an hour after we left the Carter Museum in the rearview mirror, my photographer suddenly realized he hadn’t eaten anything that morning except for a few Tootsie Rolls and his stomach had begun to make strange noises. In fact, I heard the growls of Tom’s gut over the 50s music on the radio, and it sounded like someone saying, “We’re pooooooor!” and “Feeeeeed Meeeee!”
After Vicki mentioned she had a hankerin’ for a juicy hamburger, my camera guy quickly scanned his phone and found a restaurant in the town of Newnan, Georgia that was billed to have the best burgers around. Roughly ten minutes after we left the expressway, my photographer’s wife found a parking spot directly in front of the burger joint called Meat ‘N’ Greet, which was located almost in the center of “historic” downtown Newnan.
Once we were seated, I watched with interest as my fussy camera guy tried to decide which one of the MNG Craft Burgers he wanted to try. When the smoke from his brain had dissipated, Tom went ‘off menu’ and ordered a traditional burger with American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and onions. Vicki, on the other hand, wanted to tantalize her tastebuds and ordered the ‘High West’ – a burger that featured lettuce, bacon, fried onion tangles, and ranch dressing.
Following their meal, Tom suggested he and his wife find in a motel somewhere in Newnan as we were only 35 miles North of Warm Springs and could easily make the short drive to FDR’s Little White House before the site opened at nine o’clock in the morning. After Vicki confirmed the hotel reservation from her phone, the three of us set out on foot to explore downtown Newnan – which turned out to be the birthplace of country music star Alan Jackson and former Detroit Lions star Calvin Johnson.
While Vicki searched out and found a place that sold gourmet chocolates, my photographer and I admired the historic splendor of the Coweta County Courthouse that occupied the entire Court Square. And when I say “historic”, it’s not because anything of historical significance happened in the building or on its grounds. It was due to the fact the courthouse was built in 1904 and its dome, which featured a clock on all four sides, was covered with 13,500 pounds of copper. That amount of copper would be enough to produce 1,984,500 Lincoln head pennies – and that makes a lot of cents!
As the late day’s Sun was setting in the West, we arrived at the Comfort Suites Hotel at roughly 4:15pm. While Vicki registered in the hotel’s lobby, Tom loaded their belongings onto the luggage cart and headed for our room where my photographer immediately placed me alongside the television set.
After he spent an hour or so complaining about the Eagles-Bears football game because his fantasy quarterback Jalen Hurts of Philadelphia didn’t score many points for his ‘Lubbock Crickets’ fantasy football team, Tom and I watched one of our favorite all-time movies – The Wizard of Oz.
As we watched Dorothy and her three friends dance along the Yellow Brick Road on their way to see the Wizard, I thought the story was symbolic of our journey down I-75 to visit the Wizard of Plains – Jimmy Carter. With my imagination running wild, I compared Vicki to Dorothy because my photographer’s wife missed Emma, the Guinea pig who stayed home in her hay-filled cage. I also cast my photographer as the Scarecrow, because Old Tom could use a boost to help out his feeble brain cells. As for me, I would love to feel the beat of a heart inside my empty resin chest.
When Tom extinguished the lights in our room at 8:45pm and I was suddenly all alone in the darkness, I was unable to get one thought out of my hallow head – it was the vivid image of the Wicked Witch of the West. I did my best to think about Jimmy Carter and the incredible artifacts I saw at his Presidential Museum, but the ugly mug of that green bitch kept haunting me throughout the night.
Then out of nowhere, I envisioned the three of us paying our personal tribute to Jimmy Carter at the final resting place of the Wizard of Plains. Suddenly, a Wicked Witch appeared on the walkway just West of the gravesite and she said to Vicki, “You can’t stand there. Get off that grave now or I’ll get you, and that little bobble head, too!”
With any luck, my photographer’s wife will have a bottle of water in her hand at the gravesite. Ya never know when someone will need to be liquidated.
