Joshua Windus, reporter for The Americus Times-Recorder.

My Dad grew up in North Georgia, and he had plenty of interesting stories to tell on account of it. Living near Toccoa falls, he and his twin brother would often slip into the woods. High school was spent trapping for pelts. Sometimes he’d search for garnets, or ride horses.

But since many of the stories my Dad told me had a moralistic bent, I did have some presumptions as to what Georgia, or at least North Georgia, was like. Let me elaborate. While Dad had plenty of bedtime stories, he also had a large stock ready whenever something mildly dangerous was about to happen, or could. Perhaps an oven cleaning might spark a memory of a carbon dioxide poisoning. Boating near the spill pipe of the pond might bring to mind the story of a drowning. So there was a certain picture of Geogia that was formed in my mind living in South Alabama.

Not that South Alabama was perfect. But my parents kept a pretty good eye on us. Sometimes I’d nick myself with a pocket knife my parents gave me (before I turned a teenager, if I recall). I fell off a few times riding horse back until I figured out that gravity was not my friend. But on the whole, things were pretty peaceful around the farm.

The closest town had its share of crime, but we didn’t happen to reach us. So moving to Georgia, I don’t know what I expected.

But Georgia, at least South Georgia, seems to have its perks. Crime happens, like in Alabama, but at least I can visit a Greek restaurant without having to go somewhere with thick traffic. I’ve been able to write local and national stories, and there is really no knowing who I might come across in this small Georgia town. So all in all, I feel like my prospects have been pretty good in South Georgia.