Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe

JUNE 25, 1969

Hard to Say Goodbye

I am sorry to report that this will be the last issue. Ever since I took my other half to south Alabama for a vacation, he has been having a fit to live there. We found ourselves a place right on the bay, so we are going to move down in a couple of weeks. Now the old coot can fish night and day if he wants to. I know I spoil him, but with all his orneriness, he’s still a pretty good old guy. Don’t know what to say about leaving, so I won’t say much. Both of us were raised right here in Whistle Stop, and had so many wonderful times and friends. But most of them have gone somewhere else. The place doesn’t seem the same, and now, with all these new super highways they got, you can hardly tell where Birmingham ends and Whistle Stop begins.

Now that I look back, it seems to me that after the cafe closed, the heart of the town just stopped beating. Funny how a little knockabout like that brought so many people together.

At least we all have our memories, and I’ve still got my old sweetheart with me.

… Dot Weems …

P.S. If any of you ever get to Fairhope, Alabama, look us up. I’ll be the one sitting on the back porch, cleaning all the fish.

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