During his later days in Commerce, I found him walking down the street, picked him up and went to Cracker Barrel. He was nattily attired which had usually been the case way back when his charming wife, Janette, was alive. We had a lively and colorful conversation, were joined by Snuffy Perry for a time and numerous travelers who recognized him stopped to chat. After he had deftly greeted a number of strangers asking about their families and such, I asked how he knew who they were. He said, “I have no idea who any of them were.”
I recall a very nice dinner in Atlanta years ago. Mac insisted upon picking up the tab which he paid using a counter check from my Uncle Lewis’ Bank of Braselton. To my surprise, the restaurant accepted it with no problem as they probably knew him.
Of course, Mac had some good Gov. Lester Maddox stories. I only had one from interviewing the governor for WJJC at, of all places, Commerce Drug. I inquired about a gold fishhook in his lapel and he proceeded to run my tape out concerning “fishers of men.”
Back in the UGA days, I had a challenging class assignment to study legislative districts statewide and suggest a solution to apportionment. On a tip from my Dad who seemed to know everything that was happening in the county, I located Mac in the basement of the Commerce Public Housing development and took copious notes until well past midnight as he recounted in detail all the failed approaches through the years and the reasons. I assimilated the large amount of material and got out the colored pencils for some map work. Later and to my great surprise, I saw my name in the Atlanta papers as a student who had better ideas on workable solutions than the legislature itself!
I can remember way back to elementary school when I was a legislative page for Mac. What an experience to work in the Capitol before it had my Grandpa Parks’ gold on the dome. My most notable feat was spilling thousands of loose pages of a bill down through the Rotunda from the railing — to a little guy, it looked like a giant snowstorm. A sympathetic janitor produced a long pole useful in removing pages from the statuary. The drive back to Commerce with Mac included encounters with both sides of the road as he was not a sterling wheel man. I recall Dr. Jim Hope once leaning over to me as we entered Mac’s car and warning, “You are in for a thrill now.”
It must have been about 1957 when an appreciative town collected funds to buy Mac a new car. The presentation dinner was in the old grammar school lunchroom and the shiny new Oldsmobile became a familiar sight on the road to Atlanta.
Mac was at every local funeral and did indeed help many with a range of problems. Others are still on a waiting list somewhere. His PSC desk was laden with volumes of technical rate cases such that it became impossible to see him behind the desk. The solution was to move the sofa behind the desk for the convenience of visitors. In the outer office was a table lamp made from an electric meter, a gift from Georgia Power. When the switch was turned on, the meter turned.
These are but a few unforgettable memories. Just about everyone who lived in the area has their own. Perhaps our sadness at the loss of a friend should be buoyed by the knowledge that he will be recognized where he has gone. And maybe in a perfect setting, he will have some spare time to catch up on that to-do list.
Nicky Nix,
Commerce
