[Congressional Record Volume 164, Number 63 (Wednesday, April 18, 2018)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E504]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                         TRIBUTE TO ZELL MILLER

                                 ______
                                 

                      HON. SANFORD D. BISHOP, JR.

                               of georgia

                    in the house of representatives

                       Wednesday, April 18, 2018

  Mr. BISHOP of Georgia. Mr. Speaker, given the recent passing of 
former Georgia Governor and United States Senator Zell Miller, I 
include in the Record reflections of my dear friend and mentor, former 
Congressman Jack T. Brinkley of Columbus, Georgia, entitled ``The 
Influence of Peach Tarts.'' Zell Miller, Jack Brinkley, and Guy Sharpe, 
distinguished men of great service and accomplishment, were Phi Chi 
Champion Debaters at Young Harris College.
  Their accomplishments bring to mind what the English poet Henry 
Wadsworth Longfellow once wrote: ``The heights by great men reached and 
kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their 
companions slept, were toiling upward in the night.''

                      The Influence of Peach Tarts

``The faintest flutter of a butterfly's wings may result in a hurricane 
                  one hundred years hence.''--Unknown

       Behind our rural home in Bettstown, Georgia, we had a small 
     barn-like structure which we called the corn crib. It had a 
     fine tin top which got blazing hot in the summer time. Daddy 
     stored wagon loads of his corn crop in the crib, and that is 
     where a huge, orange colored rat snake lived and thrived. It 
     looked after the rats nicely and would always frighten us 
     children when we played among the ears of corn.
       We had a peach tree nearby, and mother used to gather 
     peaches and slice them for drying on top of the corn crib. 
     She would place cloth beneath them and above them, and the 
     preservation process didn't take all that long.
       After they dried out she kept them in a flour sack in our 
     shed room, and we would often eat some of them out there. 
     Mother was ahead of her time, considering the dried fruit 
     industry of today.
       Also, equally important in the process, she would make 
     peach tarts, and they had a wonderful, tree ripened, robust 
     taste. To eat one was to crave another one.
       Our family had little to offer at a Franklin Baptist Church 
     social at Betts' Mill pond one night, and mother decided to 
     make a huge platter of peach tarts.
       Mr. Frank Betts was the taciturn owner and operator of the 
     grist mill there and a man of few words. That night he 
     smacked his lips and asked, ``Who was it that brought the 
     peach tarts!'' Miss Ollie, his utterly remarkable wife, 
     answered him, ``Pauline, did.''
       The Pauline of whom she spoke was my mother Pauline 
     Spearman Brinkley, and with the peach tarts she set in motion 
     an incredible and providential chain of events for me.
       My daddy left home, and my mother kept the family together, 
     riding the school bus with us and working at the lunchroom. 
     The community was there for us as well, and Frank Betts came 
     to our rescue by loaning us a Milk Cow and calf for our use 
     during those hard times.
       Mother showed me how to milk the cow, and it was as natural 
     to me as breathing. On cold winter days I would rest my head 
     on the warm flank of old Muley and milk with both hands with 
     the pail between my knees. ``If you done it,'' said Dizzy 
     Dean, the famous baseball player, ``It ain't braggin' ''! I 
     did become very good at milking
       Upon graduation from high school the next year, my uncle 
     Devon Brinkley, told me of a college where you could work a 
     quarter and go to school a quarter. It was Young Harris 
     College, where the outstanding Cathy Cox of Bainbridge would 
     many years later become president, and the president at that 
     time, Hon. Walter Downs, accepted my application to go.
       Mother polished my shoes and off I went without money but 
     with determination. When I got to Young Harris, I lived in 
     the dormitory with the other students and ate with them in 
     the wonderful dining hall.
       And now, as Paul Harvey would say, for the rest of the 
     story.--My work that first summer was at the college dairy, 
     and providentially I knew how to milk a cow, how to do the 
     work and how to do it well.
       While at Young Harris I became of Phi Chi Champion Debater 
     with Zell Miller and Guy Sharpe, and from there became a 
     teacher, a USAF pilot during the Korean war, a lawyer, a 
     United States Congressman and a trustee of the college. Like 
     old Dizzy Dean said . . .
       Today there is a Pauline Spearman Brinkley Memorial Highway 
     just up the road from where mother made the peach tarts which 
     our beloved Frank Betts liked so well. Was that possibly in 
     the back of his mind when he loaned us old Muley? Actually, 
     he and Miss Ollie did that as the Christian friends which 
     they were, but the peach tarts surely set the stage in a 
     young boy's mind.
       Never underestimate the power and influence of peach tarts.

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