LORAN SMITH: Things for which to be thankful

For years, the late Furman Bisher wrote a column at Thanksgiving, which became one of the most popular columns to appear in the pages of the Atlanta Journal and Constitution. Furman was a very talented writer who could write sensitively and poignantly.

We enjoyed a pleasant friendship for many years, highlighted by annual trips to the British Open championship. Furman and I often played golf in the mornings before heading to the Press Centre to fulfill our respective roles as Open correspondents. We also traveled about Europe and shared many stories about the games we covered and enjoyed.

For several years since Furman’s death, I have thought about writing a Thanksgiving column in his style. I wanted to wait until the right time to try to follow in his footsteps. I believe that it is OK now to attempt to do that.

First of all, I’m thankful for Furman and his remarkable memory. I’m thankful for the columns he wrote. I’m thankful for his writing skills, his appreciation for the language and his ability to compose memorable and penetrating essays that made you want more when you finished reading his words, especially his Thanksgiving column. Here’s to Furman.

I’m thankful for grandchildren — Alex, Zoe, Sophie and Penny — and their health and happiness. I’m thankful for their giggles and bent for building forts and lapsing into sentimental affection for one another. Most of all, I’m thankful they enjoy reading … thankful, too, for parents and teachers who encourage reading. I’m thankful for librarians — thankful that they are not becoming extinct in this technological world.

I’m thankful for the view from my back porch, ivy and honeysuckle on the fence and the ever-present cardinal which reminds me of those in St. Louis, which reminds me of Stan Musial and his accommodating way. I’m thankful for the honeysuckle’s fragrance, which leaves me uplifted when I read the paper and enjoy a cup of coffee out back. I’m thankful that I can sit there in the fall when the colors of autumn make me pine for the lyrics of “Harvest Moon.”

I’m thankful for Jimmy Harris of Unicoi Outfitters and fishing for a rainbow on the Chattahoochee. I’m thankful that God — when He made rivers — remembered to populate them with fish. I’m thankful for Sydney Lanier, our one-time poet laureate, and his poem “Song of the Chattahoochee.”

I’m thankful for small towns and communities and their humble and modest way of life. Good Hope, Tarrytown, Inman, Coolidge, Lizella, Sautee and Oliver.

I’m thankful for country ham at the Mayflower Restaurant on Broad Street. I’m thankful for Lynn and Lisa, who make your day when you give priority to breakfast with them.

I’m thankful for hugs from grandchildren, friends and all those on my team, remembering when people once looked askance at men hugging men. I’m okay with that, but maintain that earrings should remain on women. I’m thankful for the memory of my mother … wish she were still here to hug me.

I’m thankful for a freshly mowed lawn, which means I’m thankful for landscapers and yard maintenance folk. They make our neighborhoods refreshed, charming and inviting.

I’m thankful for those who work to give hope to abused children, wishing passionately that every single time that someone abuses an innocent child that they endure the wrath of all gods, post haste. Childhood abuse. How abominable!

I’m thankful that I don’t have to pick cotton any more. I’m especially thankful for running water, the flushing toilet and two white shirts — all of which I was denied growing up.

I’m thankful for writers like Jim Minter, Terry Kay and Lee Walburn, who were the stars of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution sports pages of the past when there was cold type, no computers and no iPhones. Their classic work has stood the test of time.

I’m thankful for scuppernongs, Easter lilies, mountain laurel, Tiger Mountain Vineyards, a Bob White quail plummeting to earth after worthy aim, moonshine stories, gem clips, rubber bands and staplers; firewood, chilly temperatures and history books … I’m thankful that Thanksgiving and the harvest season are unalterably linked during the October/November months.

I’m most thankful that I don’t have to drive to work every day on Interstate 85.