I drove south while R snored. When I planned my route I knew I couldn’t wander too far from the straight and narrow because we didn’t have that much time. I was happy to discover that Jekyll Island is a quick and easy detour from I-95. I was always curious about the place since reading The Creature From Jekyll Island. When those of my political bent started suggesting that I read the book, I assumed it was some stupid horror tale. I pictured the place itself as a dark, foreboding rock in the middle of the ocean. It didn’t help that the title reminded me of The Island Of Doctor Moreau, which I read as a child, and The Strange Case Of Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. I never read that one, but I watched the old movie starring Spencer Tracy and Ingrid Bergman. G Edward Griffin intended those references, but I didn’t know that then.
As I continued my research I discovered that the island was now a tourist destination in the spring and fall. Since we would be visiting in the off season, hotel rates were low.
The conversation in the car was more of the same. I broke out a few of my favorite conspiracy theories, which R batted away using Occam’s Razor. We learned about this in eighth grade. We had a very good but crazy science teacher. Our first homework assignment was to research Occam’s Razor. None of us had ever heard of it. Neither had any of our parents, aunts, uncles, etc. In the early 1970s, there wasn’t even an entry for Occam’s Razor in most encyclopedias. Now, R uses it constantly to combat every conspiracy theory he encounters. I have never met another person who takes everything MSM feeds him so completely at face value. However, I did make some headway with Epstein when I started talking about Ghislaine Maxwell’s father Robert and his Mossad connections. R also wanted to talk about his own theory that sexist Trump only appoints women to positions of power if he is sexually attracted to them. That killed some time, as he supported his case with photos he found from searching his phone.
It was now dark and I had to pay closer attention to my driving. Most of my friends no longer drive at night, but I don’t find it too difficult if I pay full attention. R was doing some internet searching about Jekyll Island. He told me that James Oglethorpe, who founded the colony of Georgia, named the island after one of its biggest financial backers, Joseph Jekyll. I casually mentioned that the plans for the US Federal Reserve were finalized at a secret meeting on the island in 1910. He said “yeah, I read that.” I didn’t mention that the meeting was the only reason for our visit. I discovered that the original club house where the meeting took place was restored and converted into a hotel. Even though it was off season, we weren’t going to spring for those fancy digs anyway, but I was happy I would get the chance to snoop around. The structures are national historic buildings and landmarks, so preservation standards were supposedly maintained.
I was starting to get really tired when we finally exited I-95 and headed for our destination. There is a toll bridge that connects the island to the mainland. It costs ten dollars to cross the bridge. It was very dark, and there were no other cars around. The weather was really cold, especially for southern Georgia. This part of the trip seemed spooky to me, but maybe that was only because of Griffin’s book. I am as susceptible to propaganda as anyone. I had the irrational thought that this was like heading to the abandoned hotel in The Shining, even though we would be staying at a Days Inn. It seemed like the bridge was very long, and that it took forever to cross it. There were no lights on the bridge, and very few on the island.
I followed the gps to our hotel. It was much nicer from the outside than I expected. I was very tired, and feeling very out of place in these unfamiliar surroundings. R was well rested and happy. The man behind the counter reminded me of Scatman Crother’s character, Dick Hallorann, in The Shining. That didn’t make me feel any better. I fell asleep almost immediately when I got to the room.
The next morning I woke up just before sunrise and decided to take a little walk. The hotel was right on the coast, so I walked 100 yards or so towards the beach. The grounds were beautiful and I happened to time the sunrise perfectly, so I took some photos. We ate the better than average breakfast buffet that was included in the price of the room, then got back in the car to do a little exploring. I was immediately struck by how lush and well kept the grounds were for a chain hotel. As we left the property I had the sense that we were surrounded by wealth. Everything was in order and well cared for. There were carefully maintained palm trees, colorful tropical plants, and big old live oaks displaying Spanish moss. We followed signs for the historic district, which really meant the Clubhouse, J.P. Morgan’s condominium, and surrounding cottages of other wealthy industrialists of the time. The cottages were bigger than some multi family homes I have seen.
J.P.Morgan Condo
The Clubhouse
When we arrived we discovered that there was some sort of running race taking place on the Island, and the Clubhouse seemed to be the staging area. We were free to wander the grounds and go inside the Clubhouse. We also checked out JP Morgan’s building nearby, which is considered the first modern condominium in the United States. The main Clubhouse is a beautiful, charming place. I found locked doors on the first floor displaying the name of whichever rich guy used to stay there, I guess, and also two marked ‘Federal Reserve.”
The Scene Of The Crime
R was enthralled by the place. He grabbed a pamphlet and began checking room rates while we sat out on the veranda. Race participants milled about on the lawn in front of us. R decided we needed to take our wives and spend a few days in the spring. I didn’t mention all the stuff I had read about the Island. There was, of course, the secret meeting in 1910, but there was also the prior history of European colonialism of the indigenous people who lived there, the plantations that were worked with slave labor, and the fact that the second to last slave ship to arrive in the US from Africa had landed here in 1858. Importing slaves had been illegal in this country since 1808.
We left that evil, beautiful place and continued our journey south. When we reached the border we saw a big sign reading “Welcome To The Free State Of Florida.” I liked it, of course, but Florida is only free in a relative sense.
About a quarter mile down the road, someone had purchased a similar sign reading “Welcome To The Free Kill State Of Florida.” Well, now. Competing visions of the sunshine state. I liked that one too.
Around a half hour after crossing the border R got to see his first confederate flag, which was displayed proudly on the tailgate of a giant pickup truck. He put down his window to take a photo, but thought better of it when he saw the large, bearded gentleman who was driving.
We got off I-95 and began heading west towards Gainesville. I pulled up this song on spotify, which I save for drives through Florida:
This part of Florida is run down and depressing. It is the land of boiled peanut roadside stands, rusted pickup trucks on blocks, love bugs, and speed traps. The cities of Lawtey and Waldo were notorious for giving out tickets to people passing through to fund the city budgets. I got one in Waldo about twenty years ago. I still slow to a crawl as I pass through.
When we arrived at our destination north of Tampa, we spent a few few days relaxing and watching football. R watched me set up my nano 3s miner. He had no idea what it was. When I told him it was a bitcoin miner, he asked about bitcoin mining: “What is that?” “Do you steal bitcoin?” I have no clue where the hell he got that piece of fud. I explained it as best I could. He was barely interested. I made a little more progress at Steak ‘n Shake, as I talked about here.
R flew home a day before me. We both had a great time, and agreed we needed to do it again. I returned the rental car at the airport and flew home. The uber ride from the airport to my home was the perfect end to the adventure.