One of the first messages I received after Walt Snelling passed away Wednesday was from my middle sister Kristi, “I believe Gainesville may close down for a day,” she wrote. A notorious provider of tongue-in-cheek material, this particular message from my sister was void of that sentiment. There was no sarcasm in her words, why? Because if a city were to mourn in the aforementioned collective fashion, who better to make it happen than a man who represented it so well for so long?
I was a Georgia Bulldog long before I existed. Before you stop reading thinking I’ve gone ’round the existential bend, hear me out. I’m back at work today fresh off a four-day excursion to New Orleans. (Fresh may be stretching it a bit, but for the sake of the bosses out there reading this, I’m Outkast-style fresh and clean.)