This afternoon I got much closer to Tiger Ridge. On Route 21, I found an El Cheapo gas station where the owner indicated I might find T.R. by taking the side road. Unfortunately, no time was left today, and I had to return to bring the milk home to the wife and children.
But I have the feeling I am closing in.
Now, some rumours I heard when I first heard about this place. A friend of mine had got lost one evening, coming back from Savannah with his friends. They were all drunk. They took the wrong turn of Route 17, and somehow ended up here. My buddy, a former sailor, said he made the mistake of laughing at some of the people here, and got thrown into jail.
When I began to inquire about Tiger Ridge, and tried to find out more about these people, I heard:
-They are very very tight knit.
-Some of them have six fingers, or other deformities. Some of them are rumored to have very large heads.
-One man chases after vehicles, and if he can get close, he barks at you like a dog.
-Folks here will just as soon kill you and throw you in the river to the gators. They want to be left alone.
Fair enough. But reality is, the state decided to build an interstate which runs very close to T.R. What will happen now? And do these folk not deserve a chance to tell their own story, maybe set the record straight? I suspect there is much to be corrected in the way of stereotype and myth, and I smell a good story here.