January 23, 2025

A grandpa’s mission: Be a memory-maker

 

            If you asked me to count my one-on-one memories of both grandfathers, I wouldn’t need all my fingers. Starting with the firstborn, I was determined to change that with our eight grandchildren.

            Wyatt Wilson and I drove to New Orleans for the 2020 Sugar Bowl to see Georgia beat Baylor, 26-14.

            In 2022, his brother, Hayes, and I spent three days in Atlanta for the Peach Bowl. How could we ever forget that 42-41 nailbiter over Ohio State?

            And on Dec. 30, 2024, their cousin, William NeSmith, and I boarded Amtrak in Toccoa. The 13-hour ride took us to New Orleans and the 2025 Sugar Bowl. By now, you may have guessed that all 16 of our barking family wear red and black. In fact, when our family gathers for a meal, every one of the 32 feet under the table belongs to lifetime members of the UGA Alumni Association.

With the birth of each grandchild, Grandpa presented them with a lifetime, paid-in-full membership. Each of their parents—and their grandparents—met their spouses, courtesy of UGA.

Woof, woof!

            The train ride was a new twist for the mental scrapbook. That Amtrak experience was a first for 16-year-old William. Here are some of the memories of the week-long ramble:

§  Going, we traveled in comfortable coach seats. On the return, we were lucky to snare a roomette. We chose our meals from a menu, and all three were delivered to our door. We could snooze, snack, read or swap stories. When we stepped off the train in Toccoa—even at 1:10 a.m. Saturday—William and I were thumbs up on rail travel.

§  Another stroke of luck put us in the hotel with the Bulldog team and coaches. William got a chance to visit with quarterback Gunner Stockton, UGA president Jere Morehead, and a host of other university faculty and alumni.

§  I was really lucky to have William as my tech guy. With his smarts and his smartphone, he navigated our walking tour of New Orleans. When our Bulldog-red Nikes (courtesy of Santa’s elf) needed a rest, he booked Uber rides on his phone. And with his Amtrak app, William could show me exactly where we were along the tracks.

§  At Mother’s café, I witnessed William eat his first po’ boy. Fried shrimp, of course. At the French Quarter’s Brennan’s, he forked his first-ever Oysters J’aime. He was a good sport about it. But he preferred the filet mignon, followed by a dish of their world-famous Bananas Foster. The Big Easy’s signature powdered-sugar-dusted pastry, beignets, made us both smile.


§  After our dinner at the iconic restaurant, we took a brisk walk down Bourbon Street. We had no idea of the terror that was yet to come. When my phone lit up at 6 a.m., we learned of the horror hours earlier. From our hotel window, William had a front-row seat to contemplate the sea of blue lights below brought about by evil. We prayed for victims and families of the mind-boggling tragedy.

§  Three of William’s great-grandfathers fought in World War II—two in the South Pacific and one in France. That’s why the World War II Museum was a must. And if I had my way, every high school student in America would watch the introductory give-you-goosebumps film, Beyond All Boundaries.

§  Inside Ceasars Superdome, we sat next to a friend and Dawg legend, Kirby Moore. I had already coached William to watch—on YouTube—No. 14 quarterbacking the famous Moore-to-Hodgson-to-Taylor flea-flicker pass that beat Bear Bryant’s Bama, 18-17, in 1965.

Woof, woof!

§  Since 1981, when Herschel ran and leaped over the Fighting Irish, Dawg fans didn’t think that you could spell “Sugar” without UGA. But when William and I—wearing our Bulldog-red Nikes—searched for our bus to take us back to the Marriott, we didn’t hear any barking. Instead, Notre Dame’s leprechauns were dancing a victory jig, 23-10.

Oh, well.

I’m counting on the Lord and good luck to get our grandchildren and me to many more Bulldog bowl games.

Get ready, Henry. You’re up next.

And then it’ll be Fenn, followed by Bayard, Smith and Stella. In the meantime, I’ve run out of fingers and toes, counting the memories from 2025’s Sugar Bowl adventure.

How about you, William?


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dnesmith@cninewspapers.com