When the Pages Become Places

Sitting on “Theo’s” bench on 10th & Broadway

Walking With Theo of Golden

An unexpected journey to Columbus, Georgia, and a gentle reminder to notice the world around us.

A Change of Plans

At the Riverwalk… Happy anniversary to us :)

Thirteen years ago, Jim and I went on our first date. Somewhere along the way, wandering together became part of our story. Each year, around the anniversary of that first date, we try to find somewhere to go, something to see, or a new experience to share.

This year, our plans were taking us to Pensacola. But a hurricane changed our direction, and instead, we found ourselves in Columbus, Georgia, affectionately known as the Fountain City. A place I had recently come to know through the pages of Theo of Golden by Allen Levi.

Sometimes the unexpected detours turn into the most memorable journeys.

Somewhere Between Fiction and Familiar

Work of Garry Pound, Fountain City Coffee

There is something wonderful about reading a book that stays with you long after you've turned the final page. The characters become familiar, the places take shape in your imagination, and somewhere along the way, you begin to feel as though you've been there.

That's what Theo of Golden did for me.

Knowing that Levi's fictional town of Golden was inspired by his hometown of Columbus made me curious. I wanted to see the streets, the coffee shop, the fountains, and the riverfront that helped bring his story to life.

And suddenly, thanks to a change of plans, we were there.

Our wanderings took us to Fountain City Coffee, the real-life inspiration for The Chalice. There, hanging on the walls, were the charcoal portraits that played such a meaningful role in Theo's story. The work of artist Garry Pound, who inspired the character Asher, was every bit as fascinating in person.

Among them was a particularly memorable portrait of Allen Levi, complete with a bird plucking at his hair. A little humor tucked among so many faces and stories.

I found myself studying the portraits, wondering about the people behind them. Who were they? What were their stories? How many had sat in that very coffee shop, never imagining their faces would help inspire a novel?

Walking Through the Story

Downtown Fountain, 10th & Broadway

We wandered through town, finding the fountain and the bench, the water tower, the riverfront, and even the short-railed balcony that held such significance in Theo's story.

Places that had existed only in my imagination now had texture, color, and a sense of place.

I could picture Theo walking the streets, sitting quietly, observing the world around him. I thought about his attentiveness to ordinary people and the extraordinary ways he made them feel seen.

Jim hadn't read the book, but that didn't keep him from enjoying the journey. At the bench near the fountain, a QR code provided a guided introduction to the town and its connection to the novel.

So while I was revisiting a story I already knew, he was discovering it for the first time.

I loved that we could experience the same place from two entirely different perspectives and still enjoy the wandering together.

The Art of Noticing

Riverwalk Campus Apartments

Of all the things I took away from Theo of Golden, perhaps the most meaningful was something wonderfully simple.

Theo made me want to be a better person.

Not in some grand, life-altering way that requires changing everything about who I am, but in the quiet, everyday ways we sometimes overlook.

To be more attentive to my surroundings. To slow down enough to notice the people around me. To be curious about their stories rather than hurried by my own. To recognize that each person is carrying something I may know nothing about.

There was a humility in the way Theo moved through the world. He didn't need to be the center of attention. Instead, he gave his attention to others. And through his thoughtfulness, he reminded people of their own worth.

I found myself wondering how different our days might look if we approached one another with a little more of that spirit.

Perhaps we would listen a little longer, judge a little less, and find ourselves a bit more humble and loving toward others.

At least, that was my takeaway.

And as it turned out, our visit offered me a small opportunity to practice exactly that.

A Story Within the Story

Journal exchange… she was with a group of friends from Comer GA

Each quarter, when I receive my extra copies of The Turquoise Iris Journal, I try to share them with someone who catches my attention. Sometimes it's a conversation, a shared interest, or simply a feeling that this person might enjoy what is tucked between its pages.

I had brought a copy along on our trip, thinking I might leave it on a table for someone to discover.

But while we were sitting in the coffee shop, I noticed a group of ladies across from us. One was wearing a denim jacket that caught my eye. It had the look of something she might have upcycled herself, and naturally, the creative in me was curious.

When her friends stepped away to the restroom, I decided to introduce myself and offer her the Journal. She was genuinely happy to receive it, and I was equally happy to share it.

It was such a small exchange, really. Just a few moments between two strangers whose paths happened to cross.

But later, I thought about Theo and the way he noticed people. How he paid attention to the little things, how a simple gesture could become something meaningful, and how connection often begins when someone feels seen.

I had traveled to Columbus hoping to experience a little of Theo's world. I hadn't expected to find myself participating in the very thing that made his story so memorable.

And perhaps that was the loveliest part of our visit.

The Places Stories Take Us

On the Riverwalk, Chattahoochee River

Only once before have I visited a town where a story I'd read unexpectedly came to life. That experience was entirely serendipitous.

This time was different. We went looking for Golden.

And although we found the landmarks, the portraits, and the familiar places, I think what stayed with me most was the realization that stories have a way of extending beyond their pages.

A novel introduced me to a town. A hurricane changed our plans. And a tradition that began thirteen years ago gave us another shared memory.

One I don't think we would have experienced quite the same way without Theo.

More Than a Place on a Map

Art at the Riverwalk, Columbus State University

Walking through Columbus reminded me that the greatest journeys aren't always about the places we visit. Sometimes they're about what we bring home with us.

We spend so much of life moving from one thing to the next, sometimes forgetting how much there is to discover when we slow down, look around, and allow curiosity to lead.

There is joy in finding new places. There is beauty in revisiting a story from a different perspective. And there is something especially meaningful about sharing those discoveries with someone you love.

Thirteen years after our first date, Jim and I are still wandering, still discovering, and still finding new stories to tell.

This time, a book helped show us the way.

I returned home with photographs, memories, and a greater appreciation for a town I might never have visited otherwise. But more than that, I carried home a renewed desire to pay attention. To notice the person sitting across the room, the stories behind unfamiliar faces, and the little opportunities we have to make someone's day a bit brighter.

Maybe that's what made Theo's story so meaningful to me. He didn't set out to change the world. He simply paid attention to the people in it.

And perhaps that's where we can all begin.

Sometimes a good book takes you somewhere you've never been. And sometimes, if you're paying attention, it changes the way you see the world when you return.

If you enjoyed this, and would like to experience Allen’s story outside the book you can begin here.