I consider myself fortunate to have been part of the newspaper community in Fayette County for the past 30-plus years.
Oh, I know many have been here much longer than that … some have family roots that go back to the early newspaper days.
But I came in at an opportune time. The county was beginning to change and grow (whether for better or for worse) and good news stories were really not hard to come by. “Good ol’ boy” politics were on the wane and upstart newcomers were vying for political position.
Peachtree City had painfully made itself known as a growing, sophisticated little town, and still rural Fayetteville had to keep up or die. It was a constant battle between the two.
I got my feet wet at the old Fayette Sun, which used to be in this very building we are in now. I was hired as a receptionist but, at a small newspaper, that is only one of the jobs one is required to do. I soon worked my way into writing a weekly personal column and doing freelance reporting and photography on the weekend (in addition to my receptionist/secretary duties) and it soon became more than I could handle.
I applied for a lifestyle editor’s position at the Sun, but they didn’t want to hire me without formal journalism training. My graduate studies in English were just not enough.
So, as luck would have it, a reporter’s job became available at the old Fayette County News. So I just prissed across the street to the News office and Cal Beverly hired me on the spot. I was thrilled. Here I was, 45 years old and had just started a new career — one that promised to be exciting and adventure-filled, if not exactly financially rewarding.
The News was my dream paper. It was old and a rock of the community. It had all the things you expected of a historical newspaper which included social notes and local, homestyle columns by ladies whose ancestors were firmly planted in the county.
Which brings us to Miss Clyde.
“Miss Clyde” was Mrs. Clyde Kerlin who lived in the boonies of south Fayette County in a community known as Pine Grove. Her column was called “Pine Grove Scenes” and her whole world centered around Pine Grove Baptist Church on Ga. Highway 92.
Miss Clyde wrote about the weather (that was always first), who was sick and who was recovering, who was visiting whom, what the preacher preached about the previous Sunday, what the menu was for Wednesday night dinner, and sometimes, her philosophy on the world in general.
Miss Clyde’s column was always handwritten in that distinctive handwriting of people born in the early 20th century, always legible and always on time.
Cal told of receiving her column one week but not having enough room to run it. He was not so gently reminded by Miss Clyde herself of how important her column was to the people of Fayette County as opposed to news about the “Peach Pit.” She did not like Peachtree City. Cal says he still remembers that reprimand.
Although I retyped and (gently) edited Miss Clyde’s column many times over the next few years(Cal resigned and I eventually took over his duties as managing editor), I never knew exactly where Pine Grove was.
A few weeks ago we were moving my mom from Williamson back to Fayetteville and the route took us up Highway 92. And, suddenly, just beyond a line of trees … there it was … Pine Grove Baptist Church … now with a lighted sign out front.
I slowed down and was immediately taken back 30 years to those golden days of hometown newspapers and Miss Clyde. I could almost see her handwriting; almost hear her words. Picture the scenes she painted in her columns.
Sadly, most of the “Miss Clydes” have disappeared from newspapers of today, but I say, “Here’s to the Miss Clydes of the world. God bless them. Long live them. They and their kind will never be forgotten.”
