07/01/2026
THE RED CLAY DIARIES
In 😇❤️ Carlin’s English
From the Backwoods to the Back Roads… From Genesis to Modern Day
Let me tell you how this chapter began.
I asked Google one simple question.
“When was the City of Hiram first chartered?”
Then I asked the very same question on another Google platform.
To my surprise…
I received two different answers.
Now that’s funny.
Or maybe it’s just another one of those little red-clay mysteries.
So I asked why.
That conversation became part of this story.
You see, my ancestor became known for helping translate Greek and Hebrew so ordinary folks could read the Good Book in English if they chose to.
So when Google gives me two different answers…
Well…
A fellow can’t help but smile.
Because somewhere between Greek…
Hebrew…
English…
Artificial Intelligence…
and Carlin’s English…
there’s always another story waiting to be told.
That’s what these screenshots represent.
A conversation.
A question.
A little curiosity.
And maybe…
just maybe…
another page in The Red Clay Diaries.
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The story begins down the back roads…
Around the first and second curves of the BCC Parkway…
Just outside the little city of Hiram…
In the great red-clay state of Georgia.
Some of y’all remember the old R&R Oyster Bar at the Cotton Gin.
Some remember when Hiram had one traffic light.
Others remember when everybody knew everybody.
And if you don’t…
Pull up a chair.
You’re about to.
Because just across from the Pirate Ship…
Beyond the cypress trees…
Past the cypress knees…
Lies a stretch of swamp that has probably heard more stories than any courthouse, front porch, or coffee shop in the county.
When the sun begins to set…
Those little yellow eyes begin to appear above the water.
If you’ve spent much time around the Everglades…
You already know what I’m talking about.
If not…
Just remember…
After dark…
Respect the swamp.
⸻
Old-timers will tell you every little town has its folklore.
Its legends.
Its mysteries.
Some stories grow bigger every time they’re told.
Some disappear with the people who knew them.
Whether every tale is true isn’t really the point.
The point is…
People remember.
And stories have a funny way of outliving all of us.
⸻
The Red Clay Diaries travels from Paulding County…
Across Georgia…
Down Highway 98…
Around the Big Bend…
Along the saltwater shores of Florida…
And back again.
From courthouse benches…
To wooden church pews…
To schoolyard benches…
To baseball dugouts…
To the bench beside the Silver Comet Trail.
Every bench has heard another story.
Every road has carried another family.
Every generation has left another footprint in the red clay.
⸻
You’ll meet teachers…
PTA moms…
Business owners…
Farmers…
Pastors…
Sheriff’s deputies…
Elected officials…
Movie people…
Front-porch philosophers…
And everyday folks who never expected to become part of the story.
Some chapters will make you laugh.
Some may make you cry.
Some will make you stop and say,
“Well… I’ll be…”
⸻
Picture a little bit of…
Back to the Future.
Quantum Leap.
The Rockford Files.
The Dukes of Hazzard.
Sullivan’s Crossing.
Throw in a little Harper Valley PTA…
A dash of Marie Laveau…
Some Kris Kristofferson storytelling…
A touch of Ghost…
A little Miami Vice…
A little Matinee…
A little Hollywood…
A whole lot of red clay…
And a storyteller wearing a Hawaiian shirt who
…And a storyteller wearing a Hawaiian shirt who…
Just might be you…
If you’ve ever laughed through your tears…
If you’ve ever wondered why…
If you’ve ever searched for hope when life didn’t make a lick of sense…
If you’ve ever loved somebody who didn’t know how to love you back…
Then pull up a chair.
Because this story isn’t really about me.
It’s about us.
It’s about every little boy and girl…
Every momma and daddy…
Every grandma and granddaddy…
Every family trying to find its way home.
My little HeySuess reminds me every day that we’re all walking the same road—just at different mile markers.
Some of us are standing on the mountaintop.
Some of us are walking through the valley.
Some of us are standing in the fire.
But none of us were ever meant to walk alone.
So whether you believe exactly like I do, or you see the world differently, you’re welcome here.
My prayer is simple:
That somewhere in these pages you’ll laugh a little harder…
Love a little deeper…
Forgive a little quicker…
And leave with a little more hope than you had when you arrived.
If all that happens…
Then every page…
Every story…
Every smile…
Every tear…
Will have been worth writing.
So sit back.
Take a deep breath.
Pour yourself a glass of sweet tea or lemonade.
Turn the page.
Let’s begin.
Welcome to The Red Clay Diaries.
In 😇❤️ Carlin’s English.
God’s Truth… with Carlin’s Couth.
From Genesis to Modern Day.
With a wink… a nod… and a 😇❤️ Carlin smile.
To bring you love joy Harmony to your face, no matter what mile mark marker of mile you’re at
To God be the glory—for every chapter, every blessing, and every breath of every story
As this Curt in a Hawaiian shirt will never tell you any lies only true lies with a Godwink says Curtis
And that famous Carlin grin with unconditional love given to us from up above to spread down here below just so you know this has been a carlin original
