Un Grand Homme Est Mort! (A Great Man Has Died!)

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You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.” – Kahlil Gibran

Dale Critz of Savannah, Georgia

When learning this weekend of the passing of Savannah’s gentleman citizen, Dale Critz at 91, I flashed to Commodore Charles Henri Hector, Count of Estaing of France, and what he exclaimed while lying next to the mortally wounded Count Casimir Pulaski inside of Bonaventure’s neighboring Greenwich during The Siege of Savannah – as Pulaski drew his last breaths, D’Estaing cried out, “Un grand homme est mort! (A great man has died!).” Mr. Critz’s reputation well precedes his grand and telling obituary for certain. I further understood the magnitude of this loss when hearing it in the voice of Dale Jr.’s voice today in Bonaventure while expressing condolences. His loud, robust voice, very much his father’s, and he very much his son, struggled not to crack, and I knew in an instant this was a man who’d lost not just his dad, but also his hero. It broke me a bit, and just the human part wanted to stand there with them and mourn. After all, they’d been my neighbors downtown for years when I was in my teens and had many other connections.

Dale Critz Jr & Dale Critz Sr

Mr. Critz brought their dogs to Bonaventure often, and it was just weeks ago that I saw him buzzing through the place with the gait of a college boy, and although a little hard of hearing, we’d stop and catch each other up for a brief minute. He wasn’t famous for standing still; quite the opposite! In person, Mr. Critz was kind of a handsome blend of Jimmy Stewart and Mr. Rogers, and even at 91, he had a kind of dashing quality for all of his humbleness.

Dale Critz (Far Left) the late 1950s/early 1960s with father and business founder over 80 years ago, Horace Dale Critz.

When seeing Mrs. Critz today near the family plot, she truly looked more beautiful than ever. She stood silently there with a glow of deep pride over her husband, but also with wisdom regarding this final chapter of their 65 years together. As I let her know that her husband’s encouragement of my work had meant a lot to me, she smiled and noted that I was one of so many whose lives he’d touched – “Well now! (gesturing with one arm) -WE old people have to do good for young people like yourself!” I replied happily, “Yes ma’am, no question.”

Dale & Lila Critz, married 65 years. (Photo Savannah Mornings News)

The words “charity” and “community” might as well have been what all of their lives had really been about, and what all of the businesses were truly for. Just like the original inspired Georgia motto, Non Sibi Sed Allis (Not For Ourselves But For Others). It’s hours like these that remind you that the Critz family are people who’ve kept that spirit alive for generations and that it lives on through grandchildren and so many life works. You might even say it’s like the amenities of a new luxury car – “Too much to list!” It’s worth noting that their Saxony name suggests the life arc as it translates as “cross” and their people in Europe are defined by “humble beginnings but rose to prominence by contributing greatly to their medieval society.” That sounds about right! Many years ago as a young student, I was blessed to make great character studies of my new Savannah surroundings through my workplace, Eli’s Deli. Not surprisingly with Critz Auto being so close by, Mr. Critz came in daily for his lunch and for some years. He struck me as a man with no ego, a drive, and a work ethic that rarely slowed, he was old stock and everything he knew was hardwired in generationally. That he was originally from Arkansas should then not surprise! Or that he was a Navy man! Mr. Critz was always carrying a newspaper, and while cordial and gave hellos to his old friends, he didn’t make much chit-chat. He’d come up to the counter, and then came that bellowing straightforward voice of a man letting you know he needed some sustenance for a moment so he could get on with the mission, “Lemme have a tuna fish sandwich on rye with onion, no tomato please – thank you.” He’d read his newspaper, gobble down his sandwich, and then was gone in a flash. Mr. Critz truly liked what he liked, did what he did, loved what he loved, created what he created, shared what he shared, knew what he knew, and went where he went, knowing it was the way to do everything. And seemingly without thought to it all. It was like he was a living vessel for a “No time to waste” credo handed down by ancestors or God or both. Mr. Critz was his own motivational Keys-To-Success series, but was way too busy creating it all of the time to ever stop to package and market it. That I don’t think was in his own nature. All of which is why when seeing Dale Jr. today I simply said, “Man, they truly broke the mold with your dad.” Mr. Critz came from a time before cookie cutters. He was made with a mold of men that is rarer to find. Some of that is just the natural turn, but makes you wish that molds such as his didn’t get lost or broken as the world needs more men and leaders like the one they had in Dale Critz. Perhaps, just perhaps, God will take exception and look to him to model some more. God love him, and peace upon his family and friends. Thank you Mr. Critz for being true to us by being true to yourself most of all.

On a final personal note, if just for some kind of record later, I find it serendipitous that they will bury Mr. Critz on October 5, 2023 in Bonaventure Cemetery which is the same day as Diane “Dee” Sutlive’s birthday who was loved and adored by Dale & Lila, and she loved them both dearly. Dee is buried just 100 yards or so away from Dale. That’s good company. 
Fantastic Obituary of Dale Clements Critz Here from Fox & Weeks Funeral Home

Savannah Quality Auto that became Critz Auto Group (W. Bay & W. Broad St)

The 5 Nights of Halloween: Evolution, Full Moons & More (Part One)

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It all began years ago with JUST one night. And here we are with FIVE, a sacred number.

“Tis the night—the night of the grave’s delight, and the warlocks are at their play; Ye think that without the wild winds shout, but no, it is they—it is they.”Cleveland Coxe

People visiting Savannah today have no idea of the long arc of Halloween and its sway between beyond thrilling to doldrum ho-hum and then once more, being back on top! Shannon Scott Tours & Events definitely part of it being back where it belongs culturally! Allow us to explain!

Not surprisingly The Irish brought Halloween here at least formally and on a larger basis, in the 1820’s. Per the solstice hours, they burned 50-foot bonfires in at least 2 of the city squares in Savannah, and until the 1950s, in order to embrace the spirit of dancing around them in pagan regalia in order to scare demons from the crops. Which when Savannah was indeed a truly agrarian society in all ways, this was of immense value! Admittedly having simply come from Midwestern, suburbian, Trick-O-Treating, myself, when learning more about Beltane, Samhain or how some Savannahians participated in this sort of ritual before it was cast to the suburbs for some of the lame-same, I was left feeling, well, a little left out of some greater tradition. Not too many people know that beneath some of the squares are intact 6000 to 8000 gallon cisterns which is part of the city’s 1730’s design genius. Only one square, a later Victorian edition, still shows at least some seeable roof design from the square layout. All the same, it was in Washington Square and Johnson Square, where they burned 50ft bonfires until the 1950s when historic preservation became the growing trend and it was decided opstay urningbay bonfires. I often wonder if when that happened, it was a cold stop or presumably there were purists and others who simply lit them in the swamps or countryside or on nearby islands and one wonders about those event stories! I should mention that every Savannah kid worth his salt downtown would spend weeks of collecting boxes, and crates from any willing vendor or business along Broughton Street and City Market and then would store them in the still accessible cistern in Washington Square for the big burn night! I must confess, Savannah seems dull by this measure, and think we should work hard to recreate these bonfires somewhere!

Beltane Fire Dancing

After Halloween was really relegated to tricks and treats and suburban life, there must’ve been 40 years of nothing downtown Savannah. I remember some of it in the late 1980s and 1990s. Halloween was a long dull, thud. The Savannah College of Art & Design students had yet to really pick up some of the slack. There were minor efforts along the way but the downtown canvas was really rather barren. I recall one hour, even as late as 2007, Halloween had fallen on a Friday night which to any purist means its all weekend, but when arriving to the door of a nightclub on Broughton Street in full Vampire Hunter D costume, the bouncer gave me a strange look as he prepared to deny me entrance and snarled, “Halloween was last night dude!” Had I not known the club owner, I might not have gotten inside! So yes, even that late ladies & gentlemen, Halloween overall was a desert at least across the city with only token parties at gay clubs and of course, some legendary house parties. But there was no real “Halloween scene.”

One of the key players in a true return to Halloween is Pittsburgh native, SCAD grad, and all-around true-to-life Savannah artist-in-residence, W. “Gerome” Temple, of whom I can say proudly, was my roommate on Jones Street and before that, good very good friend. He loved the macabre and Halloween and we’d bemoan how lame it really was in Savannah. Many may not believe that one person can be like the firing pin or blasting cap to a new age or movement, but Gerome in many ways, was that. Now, per his humble ways, he’s unlikely to take as much credit as I’m giving him, but I’m telling you Halloween in Savannah owes a great deal to him as that impetus factor, and if I don’t mind saying, to myself. I, on the one hand, was running the city’s most famous ghost tours and drew controversy to myself when launching The Hellfair Ball as a sort of cultural opposite to Savannah’s time-honored, Telfair Ball. It went over like a leaden balloon and had 3 government agencies present paperwork to me. Something about my business license and alcohol. But anyway, it was a stab out in the direction of something fun and outlandish and only ever did it once as I had enough challenges. But sometime in 2003, Gerome decided he was going to build a giant puppet, semi-inspired by Frank The Rabbit in Donnie Darko.

Artist W.Gerome Temple with his puppet costume creations.

Naturally Gerome would take his rmassive rabbit puppet, which when worn, stretched to 12 to 15ft in height? With moving arms marching around created quite a stir downtown Savannah at night and seemed very in line with puppets seen in Day of The Dead festivals, other religious holidays in the world in Spain, Portugal and yes, would be right at home in any Mardi Gras here or abroad. The match was struck and it honestly seemed to breathe a new spirit across the Savannah lands, foretelling of greater Halloweens to come. Within the year, Gerome set upon creating his 2nd puppet, we’ll call him The Red Devil and if memory serves me, Gerome did more than one workshop for young parents and their kids. All part of it.

W. Gerome Temple marching puppets in Savannah in front of St. John’s Cathedral (Irish!)

My rentry to Halloween really simple came about because of Bonaventure After Hours and my evening tours. Nearly any Savannahian will tell you, that in spite of some political attitudes towards it now, some of which pretend that no Halloween anything ever happened in Bonaventure. And to be honest, until I started doing evening tours, I hadn’t fielded too much comment about the memories of locals respective thereof. Yet, in the 1960s, 70s, 80s, adults would take costumed children by the hundreds through Bonaventure Cemetery to humor and really just have some good natured spooky fun. It was all innocent really. Naturally they all wanted to see Little Gracie, and perhaps were told about the sightings of her by at least 2 or 3 sexton families that had lived on the property. Feel free to read my other blog postings, Heaven’s Playgrounds Part 1 & 2 for further insight. Strangely, none of that “fun” is any longer permitted in Savannah cemeteries. In fact, costumes have been outlawed for one reason or the other and makes for some interesting daytime photo shoot encounters I assure you – the costume police! “But, but, but – what about the goth kids? They just dress that way!” Sorry goth kids, you’re on notice!