BROWN: Unlikely heroes on Jekyll Island

Published 8:07 am Tuesday, August 6, 2024

In addition to managing the family-owned propane business and serving as a volunteer firefighter, our daddy served as the chief tax assessor in Stewart County, Georgia for several years.

The position was appointed, and the citizens served voluntarily. Even though Daddy did not earn a stipend, the appointment precipitated an invitation to attend the annual tax assessor’s convention, a four-day event held in late June.

Over the years we made reservations at various resorts on the island but the most memorable location, which was the site of the convention, was situated at the end of the island and had a swimming pool in the shape of the state of Georgia.

In those days, most swimming pools had a fiberglass diving board, but this establishment also had a slide and a high-dive tower.

Daddy attended the daily work session and momma enjoyed lounging at the pool.

David and I were free to roam on the beach, until the beginning of the evening festivities. After attending the social hour and dinner, the teenagers were allowed to wander down the boardwalk and hang out on the lighted part of the shoreline.

We were frequently cautioned not to bother the sea turtles that laid eggs in the dark areas of the seashore. Then one memorable evening a mamma turtle somehow followed bad directions and wandered into the lighted area where the teenagers were listening to rock and roll music on a portable radio, and subsequently began digging a cavernous hole. This seemed to be the one night that there was no help in sight and although we knew not to interrupt her journey, the situation took an unusual turn.

All the merriment stopped while the frantic turtle completed her excavation and deposited golf ball-sized objects into the freshly dug beach sand. After birthing about one hundred soft-shelled eggs, she used her giant flippers to cover them and then rested a moment before continuing her laborious journey. We had been told that we might encounter a turtle and warned not to disturb her during the laying process.

When she began moving, instead of approaching the ocean, she began wandering toward the dense woods. To our dismay, we realized that she was traveling in the wrong direction. We quietly followed along trying to determine a means of intervention, without adding further confusion to the humongous reptile. On the other side of the thick woods was a highway and we knew that mamma turtle was disorientated.

When the frantic digging of pot-holes and some gentle persuasion with a piece of driftwood brought no results we decided that we must take drastic action before she disappeared into the thicket of woods in her path. On the count of three, we grabbed the edge of the algae-covered shell and quickly turned her in the correct direction, interrupting a potential catastrophe.

We reported the incident to our parents and the attending state officials and subsequently became unlikely heroes at the convention there in Jekyll Island, Georgia.