It isn’t what we don’t know that gives us trouble; it’s what we know that ain’t so.
– Will Rogers
Because I get a lot of postcards, I also get a lot of postcard questions. Here’s one with a history angle. Chad Sweeny writes: “I have a postcard showing ‘Jack Gardens’ dated Aug 1941. My mother sent it to her sister in Pittsburgh when she (my mother) was visiting her brother stationed at Daniel Field (I believe that is what my uncle told me). The postcard also mentioned ‘Mulligan’s.’ Any idea where either one is?”
Well, first of all, Mulligan’s was, I believe, a bar in the 600 block of Broad Street. There are several references to it in the archives, and a funny Chronicle advertisement of 1941 shows a conga line of men in fedora hats emerging from such a saloon drinking Stag beer.
Mulligan’s seems to have returned in the 1970s, when it was the name of the bar in the Ramada Inn motel at Washington Road and Interstate 20. It featured long-haired, hard-rock bands.
The Jack Gardens is harder to pin down. I asked Historic Augusta’s Erick Montgomery, and he suggests it might refer to the garden of Augusta’s Jack family, which lived in a large home near Walton Way and Highland Avenue. Back then, he said, many Augustans were proud of their gardens and they were often featured in postcards.
BEST BASH: Speaking of Erick, we got to sit out on the steps of Sacred Heart Cultural Center on Tuesday night and take up tickets for the Best of Augusta Bash. We talked about old buildings and old politicians and how things in our town are connected. I always enjoy that.
JURY EXCUSE: I was sharing ailments at a luncheon in Sandersville, Ga., this week when a young woman, who asked for anonymity, said this is how she got off jury duty. She had just had cataract surgery and told the judge she had trouble seeing. That’s when her husband seated beside her spoke up.
“Your honor,” he said, “not only does she not see well, but she can’t hear and her memory’s not too good, either.”
The judge smiled and dismissed her from duty.
TODAY’S JOKE: Jim Hope, in Sylvania, Ga., shares this one:
Unaware Indianapolis was on Eastern Standard Time and Chicago on Central Standard Time, Bob inquired at the Indianapolis airport about a plane to Chicago.
“The next flight leaves at 1 p.m.,” a ticket agent said, “and arrives in Chicago at 1:01 p.m.”
“Would you repeat that, please?” Bob asked.
The agent did so and then inquired, “Do you want a reservation?”
“No,” Bob said, “But I think I’ll hang around and watch that thing take off.”