Episode 140
Savannah was Bananas: Savannah History You Never Knew
☕️ Say thanks with a cup of coffee 😁
Scott dives into the hidden history of Savannah, uncovering tales of pirates, treasure, and the lively spirit of this charming city. He takes us on a journey through time, sharing stories that are often overlooked but totally deserve a spotlight. From the smoky taverns where legends were born to the vibrant streets where history whispers in the air, we get a taste of Savannah's rich past. We’ll explore the quirky and the significant, revealing the unexpected players that shaped this beautiful locale. So, grab your imaginary map and let’s rediscover the stories that make Savannah a treasure trove of history!
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Transcript
Welcome to Talk with History.
Speaker A:I am your host Scott, and this week I am bringing you a test project that never quite made the airways.
Speaker A:During our occasional breaks, I like to experiment with new formats and try things out and this episode was just that.
Speaker A:You may recognize some things that we've taken from that experiment the short story style vignettes that I have been including in our regular episodes.
Speaker A:It's been refreshing and fun to work with sound effects in a more scripted format to try and bring listeners deeper into the story.
Speaker A:I hope you enjoy the story History is a grand tapestry woven with iconic battles, legendary figures and empires that rose and fell.
Speaker A:But even the most familiar stories have hidden threads, unexpected twists and forgotten voices.
Speaker A:In this podcast, we'll delve into the heart of iconic events and lesser known moments.
Speaker A:We'll meet the heroes, the unexpected players, and the voices that have lost to time.
Speaker A:Join me, your host Scott, as we explore the forgotten corners and hidden details of history, rediscovering the stories that deserve to be remembered both grand and small.
Speaker A:This is the history road trip.
Speaker A:Did you see this?
Speaker A:Savannah Bananas?
Speaker A:I thought I'd heard the question wrong, so I paused before applying.
Speaker A:Or perhaps my friend Eric was just messing with me.
Speaker A:We are in the Navy after all.
Speaker A:That sailor humor still sneaks out every now and then, and maybe this was meant to be a bit more suggestive than I suspected.
Speaker A:I'm sorry.
Speaker A: It was: Speaker A:Exhausted from my travels, I sought refuge in a weathered tavern nestled amongst the moss draped oaks.
Speaker A:The sign above creaked in the breeze, simply proclaiming it the Tavern.
Speaker A:Inside, a haze of pipe smoke hung low, illuminated by flickering candlelight.
Speaker A:A motley crew filled the room, weathered sailors with eyes that held tales of storms and distant shores, merchants haggling over steaming mugs, and a lone figure hunched over a worn map in the corner.
Speaker A:Intrigued, I sidled up to the bar, its surface slick with spilled ale.
Speaker A:The barkeep, a man with a face etched like a weathered map himself, eyed me with a practiced indifference.
Speaker A:Scotch if you have it, I rasped, my voice hoarse from the journey.
Speaker A:He grunted and produced a dusty bottle, the amber liquid within catching the candlelight.
Speaker A:As I took a sip, the air crackled with a sudden tension, a brawl abrupted in the corner, fueled by cheap rum and simmering resentment, I'm sure in the chaos, the map fluttered to the floor.
Speaker A:I snatched it before a care boot could crush it.
Speaker A:It depicted a rugged island marked with an X that seemed to burn into my memory.
Speaker A:Captain Flint's lute, a gruff voice rasped beside me.
Speaker A:A weathered sailor, his face a road map of wrinkles, leaned on the bar.
Speaker A:His eyes fixed on the map.
Speaker A:Died in this very tavern, they say.
Speaker A:Took the secret of his treasure to his grave.
Speaker A:A shiver ran down my spine.
Speaker A:Here, in this smoky, boisterous tavern was the seed of a story.
Speaker A:The air thrummed with tales of buried treasure, salty winds, and men with hearts as black as the night.
Speaker A:Tell me more, I said, my voice barely a whisper.
Speaker A:The sailor launched into a yarn, his words thick with rum and regret.
Speaker A:He spoke of a fearsome pirate named Captain Flint, his crew of cutthroats, and a hidden treasure on a nameless island.
Speaker A:The room around me faded.
Speaker A:I saw not a tavern brawl, but a young Jim Hawkins thrust into a world of pirates and buried gold.
Speaker A:By the end, the last embers of the brawl had died down.
Speaker A:I had scribbled the first lines of a story in my travel journal, Treasure Island.
Speaker A:The words seemed to hold the promise of adventure, of hidden riches and perilous journeys.
Speaker A:The smoky haze of the tavern had birthed the tale that would forever be etched in my mind, a testament to the power of a good story.
Speaker A:And the magic spun in a dimly lit corner of a Savannah tavern.
Speaker A:One thing you have to know about Savannah, Georgia, is that it's built for visitors.
Speaker A:Walkable.
Speaker A:Like almost no other city we have visited before, it exudes something different, something almost otherworldly.
Speaker A:Or maybe a step back in time.
Speaker A:A must see museum attraction is the American Prohibition Museum that gives you an almost Disney level experience covering the rise of Prohibition how mobsters use Savannah as a springboard to run alcohol all throughout the United states.
Speaker A: It was: Speaker A:The humid Georgia air clung to me like a second shirt, the Spanish moss hanging from the live oaks dripping a slow, steady sweat onto my fedora.
Speaker A:Savannah was a sweaty, beautiful dame, all secrets and charm under a veil of stifling heat.
Speaker A:Perfect for our business, of course.
Speaker A:Al Capone may have been the face in Chicago, but down here I, Frankie the fixer Marino, kept the booze flowing smoother than a Charleston flapper's moves.
Speaker A:Tonight was a drop off.
Speaker A:We were delivering a shipment, hot off the freighter that had slipped past the Coast Guard's water like a phantom.
Speaker A:My crew, a motley bunch of toughs I trusted more than my own reflection, unloaded the crates from the rumbling truck into a darkened alley behind a speakeasy with a reputation about as shady as its clientele Suddenly the alley entrance flooded with harsh light.
Speaker A:Revenue agents.
Speaker A:Damn.
Speaker A:Ten of them, the yellow stripes on their fedoras a stark contrast to the grimy brick wall.
Speaker A:My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
Speaker A:We weren't supposed to be made tonight.
Speaker A:We paid off the right palms, greased the right wheels.
Speaker A:My hand instinctively went to the reassuring weight of the Browning tucked under my arm.
Speaker A:A fight was useless, a bloodbath in this narrow space.
Speaker A:But maybe, just maybe, there was another way.
Speaker A:Gentlemen, I drawled, stepping forward, a smile plastered on my face that wouldn't have fooled a blind dog.
Speaker A:Just a routine inspection, right?
Speaker A:The lead agent, a bulldog of a man with a jaw that could crack walnuts, didn't crack a smile.
Speaker A:Frankie Marino, he said, his voice flat.
Speaker A:Been expecting you.
Speaker A:My smile faltered.
Speaker A:This wasn't good.
Speaker A:Not good at all.
Speaker A:Look, fellas, I began, sweat trickling down my back.
Speaker A:There must be some misunderstanding.
Speaker A:We're just delivering some cough syrup.
Speaker A:High end stuff, See?
Speaker A:One of the agents snorted.
Speaker A:Cut the crap, Marino.
Speaker A:We got a tip.
Speaker A:An anonymous one, very specific, and it mentioned a hidden compartment in the second truck from the left.
Speaker A:My blood ran cold.
Speaker A:An anonymous tip.
Speaker A:We hit a leak.
Speaker A:But who?
Speaker A:My mind raced, searching for the weakness for traitors.
Speaker A:The silence stretched thick and suffocating.
Speaker A:Alright, I finally said, raising my hands in surrender.
Speaker A:You win.
Speaker A:But tell me this.
Speaker A:Who snitched?
Speaker A:The agent's lips curled into a smirk.
Speaker A:That, Frankie, he said, is classified information.
Speaker A:Each of Savannah squares is typically surrounded by eight lots, or wards, as they call them, four residential and four public buildings.
Speaker A:They're known for their lush landscaping, featuring live oaks, fountains, statues, and some very famous benches.
Speaker A:The Georgia sun beat down on my back as I wrestled with a wayward Confederate flag.
Speaker A: It was: Speaker A:The historic city was a character itself in this movie, all moss draped squares and pastel antebellum houses.
Speaker A:Peaceful, almost sleepy.
Speaker A:It's hard to imagine the turmoil it had seen just this morning.
Speaker A:I'd been setting up a scene in Forsyth Park, a sprawling green space dotted with ancient live oaks.
Speaker A:The scene called for a young forest, braces on his legs, running alongside a group of kids.
Speaker A:It was a heartwarming image, but as I secured the flag to a lamppost, I couldn't help but think about the very different scenes this park and might have witnessed back in the Civil War.
Speaker A:Savannah, they said, was one of the few Southern cities to be captured intact.
Speaker A:But even without the fiery destruction, the scars ran deep.
Speaker A:You could feel them in the hushed reverence of the locals when they spoke of the city's history.
Speaker A:Suddenly, a booming voice cut through my reverie.
Speaker A:Hey, grip, need a hand with that flagpole?
Speaker A:I looked up to see Tom Hanks himself, a goofy grin plastered on his face.
Speaker A:Even in his khaki work clothes, he had that movie star aura.
Speaker A:Sure thing, Mr.
Speaker A:Hanks, I stammered, a little starstruck.
Speaker A:We wrestled the flagpole into submission and the red, white, and blue flapping in the breeze.
Speaker A:You know, he said, wiping his brow with a bandana, this park must have seen some crazy things back in the day.
Speaker A:I mean, yeah, I agree.
Speaker A:Hard to imagine all that fighting happened here, right next to where kids are going to be playing.
Speaker A:Catching the movie.
Speaker A:He chuckled.
Speaker A:That's the beauty of movies, I guess.
Speaker A:We get to rewrite history.
Speaker A:Or at least show a different side of it.
Speaker A:He gazed out at the park, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Speaker A:Maybe that's what Forest's story is all about too, showing the good and the bad, the hope.
Speaker A:Even in the darkest times.
Speaker A:His words hung in the air as we finished securing the flag.
Speaker A:Maybe it was just the heat, but I felt a lump form in my throat.
Speaker A:Here I was, a nobody on a movie set, and Tom Hanks was making me think about history, about the stories woven into the very fabric of this city.
Speaker A:And suddenly the scene we were creating felt a lot more important than just entertainment.
Speaker A:It was a chance to spark a conversation, to remind people of the past, even in a story about a fictional character with a box of chocolates.
Speaker A:As Tom Hanks sauntered off to his trailer, I looked around the park, my eyes filled with a newfound respect.
Speaker A:Savannah was more than just a pretty backdrop.
Speaker A:It was a living testament to a nation's past, a place where history whispered in the rustling Spanish moss of the live oaks.
Speaker A:And who knows, maybe this movie, with its fictional character and his extraordinary journey, would inspire someone to learn more about the real stories this city held.
Speaker A:You know the baseball team, the Savannah Bananas?
Speaker A:I broke into an immediate grin and laughed.
Speaker A:No, I replied between my laughs.
Speaker A:We didn't see the Savannah Bananas.
Speaker A:Eric laughed along with me and told me all about the Triple A baseball team that focuses on over the top entertainment acts during the games with other AAA teams.
Speaker A:Like wearing a kilt while at bat, doing flips, running the bases.
Speaker A:Essentially the Harlem Globetrotters of baseball.
Speaker A:I was actually bummed I missed out on this modern Savannah staple, but I did not regret one moment walking through this amazing and historic city.
Speaker A:Savannah whispers tales of pirates historical figures, figures and architectural marvels.
Speaker A:Beyond the iconic bench from Forrest Gump, this city offers a treasure trove of intriguing stories waiting to be discovered.
Speaker A:So lace up your walking shoes and get ready to be charmed when you pay your own visit to Savannah, Georgia.
Speaker A:This has been a Walk with History production.
Speaker A:Talk with History is created and hosted by me, Scott Benny.
Speaker A:Episode researched by Jennifer Benny.
Speaker A:Check out the show notes for links and references mentioned in this episode.
Speaker A:Talk with History is supported by our fans@thehistoryroadtrip.com our eternal thanks to those providing funding to help keep us going.
Speaker A:Thank you to Doug McLiberty, Larry Myers, and Patrick Benny.
Speaker A:Make sure you hit that follow button in your podcast player and we'll talk to.
