As Addy and her parents continued their visit to New York, they took a tour that brought them to the stylish Gramercy Park area.

The magnificent houses and park reminded her of Savannah. However, she was intrigued by the fact the Park itself was under lock and key.

As the family approached #2 Gramcery Park West. Mr. Wilder pointed out that is where his Great Uncle Harris Wilder had lived. Addy had never heard of him before now. So, her father started telling her his story.

Clara Wilder had been caught red handed, or should we say “red chined”? It was by her daughter, Addison.

“Addison Clara Wilder, delete that photo, now!” Addison just laughed. She had photographic evidence of her mother’s secret.

Now, the secret was not something terrible, but amusing.

When Addy turned 16, her parents took her to on her on her first trip to Manhattan. It was the beginning of August and the temperatures in New York were rivaling those in Savannah. A heatwave had set in for the Big Apple and was not losing its grip. However, it did not daunt her spirits and she was determined to arrive fresh and collected.

She packed a very light wardrobe of linen, silk and cotton. Addy was judicious in her choices and could convert each item from daytime to evening by the accessories she brought along.

“What do you mean she’s not here? We have a date!”

Let’s back our story up.

Addy’s uncle, Dr. Franklin Wilder was laid to rest at Bonaventure Cemetery with full military honors. He reached the age of 101, making him one of the oldest surviving WWII veterans from Savannah.

Preston postponed his summer road trip with his cousin and fellow Citadel chum, Clayton.

The reason for the delay was due to respect of a venerated member of Addy’s family and a fellow Citadel graduate. All the members of the Savannah Area Citadel Club were planning to attend.

Addy’s Great Uncle William Wilder had died. He was one of the few remaining Savannah survivors of WWII.

He was 101.

One of Addy’s first memories was of her backyard. She loved exploring.

At the back edge of the property stood an ancient apple tree. The tree had been part of the original landscape plan of her grandfather’s 1915 Design.

The tree was now gnarled from years of weathering the Savannah winds. Several posts help support the aging branches. However, it never failed to produce beautiful Golden Delicious Apples. Her mother would bake them into pies or make them into tea sandwiches.

As Addy, Brandon and their friends were heading to family lake house on the Vernon River for the day, she recalled several of her father's childhood stories. To her they were sweet and ideal.

“But, it’s so cold!”

That is what 4-year-old Grayson Wilder exhorted as he sat on the ice cream maker. There was no electricity at the Wilder’s lake property off Rose Dhu. So, a crank ice cream maker was brought along…

It was known as “Going to the Fourth.”

Addy’s Great Grandmother, “Miss Fannie” was born on the Fourth of July. She was an only child and adored by her parents. She was sweet, smart, beautiful and had a wonderful mind that would absorb all she saw or experienced. Her father sent her to the Pape School in Savannah to receive the best education. She learned Latin and French as well as mathematics and etiquette.

The Dark Purple Catawba Crepe Myrtles were beginning to bloom into glory around the Wilder’s home.

When Addy’s great-grandparents built the Arts and Crafts house in 1915, they were planted to compliment the rich grey, green and deep sand colors of their Baldwin Park house. The Wilder family had now occupied the home for four generations. It retained the same colors palate each time it was painted.

The Baldwin Park playground was just a half a block away from Addy Wilder’s house. Her mother could watch her play there from her kitchen window.

Years ago, on a warm June day, Addy went to the park as usual. She was dressed in short overalls.

“Miss Anne! What are you doing?” She gave Preston a look that showed she was in a perfect frame of mind.

She was 82 and a neighborhood “momma” to all the children in Baldwin Park. She had known Preston since he was an infant. She also had known his mother since she was a baby as well.

“Morning, Preston. Time to get up.”

Fortunately, his cousin Richard had a steaming cup of coffee for him when he approached.

“What time is it? It isn’t daylight.” Richard replied, “High Tide is in an hour!”

His cousin’s house was just down the street from Addison’s. As he walked the short hop, Frankie hollered out to him. “Preston! How was your trip from Charleston?”

Preston Hartwell had a look about him. Self-assured, handsome, smart as a whip and could charm the wallpaper from the wall.

It was 98 degrees. Afterall, it was Savannah in the summer. She looked cool, crisp and in control in her simple white cotton dress. He looked hot. He was visiting relatives down the street. (She had heard he was) She remembered him fondly…