Trip: January 12, 2018

Visited: Madras, Raymond, Moreland, Grantville, Hogansville, Luthersville, Haralson, Alvaton, Gay, Woodbury, Manchester

Weather: Cold, rainy, and mostly overcast.

Camera: Samsung Galaxy S6 mobile phone.

Notes: For the first trip of the year, I paired up with a travel buddy. He’s a good friend, and a meticulous travel planner, even when he feels like he’s winging it. On this day, we took the day off, and I rented a car so I could do some of the driving (when we travel together, usually I bum a ride).

We booked it to Palmetto and hopped on Roosevelt Hwy. Even though we didn’t stop, it’s worth mentioning that Palmetto and South Fulton County sometimes feel like a different world from central and north Fulton County. Stretches are still undeveloped, rural, dotted with country houses and plantation mansions. And while sometimes it feels untouched, its very preservation is sometimes thoughtful planning on the part of the City of Chattahoochee Hills, incorporated specifically to preserve the rural character and undeveloped lands. The town founders incorporated huge swaths of the rural county in the 2000s, choosing to focus and guide development and density where it makes sense, rather than letting it creep across the landscape, patching over farms with subdivisions.

Madras was the first stop, a collection of buildings I’d passed before without realizing they were once a community. Barely set back from the road, a few commercial buildings hang on - whatever Madras was, it was big enough to get a wooden freight depot, which is now in someone’s yard.

After buzzing through Newnan, we reached Raymond, a small residential community with a church or two left. Raymond was once a coaling stop on the Central of Georgia Railroad, and an impressive concrete coaling tower remains. These have been out of use since the dusk of steam railroading, but they’re huge, and sturdy, and probably really expensive to take down. They’re also amazing, dwarfing you in size, so I’m glad they’re not worth the effort.

We likewise buzzed through Moreland, Lewis Grizzard’s hometown. Grantville had some interesting modern history, thanks to the Walking Dead, which filmed there. At one point the town had a Walking Dead tour, and a gift shop, but it didn’t last. This would be a theme for the next hour or two as we wound our way through a region offering plenty of empty storefronts and rural blight, perfect for depicting apocalyptic abandonment via zombie pandemic. Some towns didn’t need much window dressing; the economy had done the prep work before AMC got there. Grantville’s mills shuttered, and seemingly took most of the town with them.

But Hogansville had some pep, and a great coffee shop in its old railroad depot. And an antique store that was really neat. And an old stone water tower that was the centerpiece of a small walking trail network. We made our way through Haralson, where we saw a Walking Dead cosplay tour, and to the Red Oak Creek Covered Bridge, and on to Massengale Mill, where we passed over the millpond on the sketchiest bridge I’ve encountered yet.

After a few more towns, we entered The Cove, a possible meteor impact crater sometimes known as the “Cove Dome” or the “Woodbury Structure.” I wanted to see The Cove because of the satellite dishes - two dishes 30 meters across, radio antennae constructed by AT&T in the mid 1970s. Roughly a decade later, AT&T gave up on them, and they sat dormant and neglected until the late 1990s when they were adopted by Georgia Tech, who also seems to have left them behind. The mammoth structures sit, sleeping, falling apart,.

But the ones in The Cove were spared the ends of other AT&T satellite dishes, a fate that AT&T’s website describes a little too gleefully: “What do you do when a giant satellite dish has outlived its usefulness? First, you take stock of its accomplishments over the years. Then, you blow it up.” To me, watching AT&T’s video hurts a little. In The Cove, Georgia Tech made the case that these rare assets could be used for other purposes - to support the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence (SETI) and student projects, to provide two quick examples. AT&T’s tower demolition offers no spectacle, no immediacy. Skyscrapers implode and disappear in a massive dust cloud, faster than you want to believe is possible. Instead, AT&T’s satellite dish is severed, but doesn’t even fall, and eventually has to be tipped off its pedestal until it collapses sadly under its own weight. The sight is an underwhelming wreck and strikes me as a terrible waste.

The sun was setting as we approached Manchester, and we made a quick visit to its namesake textile mill, which burned some years ago. A quick run down the main street of the downtown convinced me that I’d have to go back when I had more time. But the day was winding down, and we were hungry, so we called off the day’s exploring and took off for Columbus. A strip-mall taqueria provided the perfect end to the day, we took a moment to recap and catch up while we sat tucked away in the back. Getting there was so much more fun, but it was time to head home.

Trip: July 21, 2017

Or, the one where I introduce my parents to car seat covers.

Visited: Porterdale, Starrsville, Hayston, Mansfield, Newborn, Shady Dale, Monticello, Juliette, Flovilla, Indian Springs, High Falls

Weather: Sunny, hot. Really hot.

Camera: Samsung Galaxy S6 mobile phone.

Notes: Another hot, hot summer day, clear skies and relentless sun. I’d planned to start in Porterdale, a textile mill town I’ve been fond of for years, and to continue along the railroad for a while. Railroads string together little towns like pearls, and I’m seeing that some follow a common trajectory - particularly when the railroads withdraw. This trip, I followed a 30+ mile route between Porterdale, Covington, and Machen, which is more junction than town.

In the typical complicated and twisted lineage of transportation family trees, the line was built by the Middle Georgia & Atlantic Railway Co (MGA) in 1894; was sold to the Central of Georgia Railway (CGA) in 1896, which extended it to Porterdale in 1899 and ended passenger service in the 1950s; was taken over by the Southern Railway (SR) in 1963, and merged with other acquisitions to form the Central of Georgia Railroad Company (a new one with a near-identical name); was taken over again in 1982, this time by Norfolk-Southern Railroad (NS); was leased by NS to the Great Walton Railroad (GRWR) in 1989. In 2009, freight service (mostly lumber) was ended, and the line was officially closed in 2010. Some of the tracks are gone altogether, and in some places, they’re in place but blocked off. Crossbucks remain at long-dormant grade crossings, warning passersby of trains that haven’t run for years in rights-of-way covered by grass and wildflowers.

Porterdale is a three-mill town. One is blockaded, silent for decades, while another still runs and yet a third - the most scenic - has been converted to loft apartments. During my short wander, I saw a man magnet fishing the yellow river, and took a short walk on the town’s riverside hiking trail. In July, this is apparently a terrible idea, and I was pushed back by an onslaught of hungry mosquitoes and black flies. Starrsville and Hayston were hardly there, but for a former general store and a clearly-delineated strip of grass running through the trees - once the railroad.

In Newborn, the tracks re-appeared. As a souvenir, I picked up a railroad spike and put it in my back pocket. While walking, I somehow forgot it was there, and upon hopping back into the car I was borrowing from my parents for this excursion, heard an unfortunate ripping sound. The top of the spike, with its projecting metal lip, had punctured the driver’s seat of their car. Guilt washed over me before I snapped back to reality and pressed on. I’m lucky to have very forgiving parents who were very accepting of store-bought seat covers.

I couldn’t find Machen, partly because it wasn’t really there anymore. All that’s left is the junction of the railroads, and one of those doesn’t even exist anymore. I was driving slow, looking for roads or signs of the town, and was pulled over by a very concerned police officer who told me he suspected that I was driving high. Pretty quickly he realized that I wasn’t under the influence, but that I was instead kind of lost and clueless, and he drove off irritably and unwilling to help me figure out where I was.

Monticello has a nice downtown square with a dark contrast. The town is oriented around a central monument to its Confederate dead, complete with florid rebel sentiment that still held when it was erected in 1910. “The triumphs of might are transient,” it says; “they pass and are forgotten. The sufferings of right are graven deepest on the chronicle of nations.” Yet across the square sits a bookstore operated by the Nuwabian Nation of Moors, a group classified by the Southern Poverty Law Center as a hate group that “mixes black supremacist ideas with worship of the Egyptians and their pyramids, a belief in UFOs and various conspiracies related to the Illuminati and the Bilderbergers.” I stopped in the downtown drugstore for some water and sunscreen, a much less morally weighty experience, and complete with the typical legendary Southern hospitality.

I’d been through Juliette before, and this time, I focused on the mill and dodged the Fried Green Tomatoes fans peeking through store windows downtown. There were mills on each side of the river once, and only one remains. But the river was hopping. Teenagers and young adults were swimming and sunbathing and fishing from the shoals. I held my breath as a boy with a fishing pole walked across the ledge of the mill dam - not a tall dam, but rocky and jagged on the other side. He wasn’t as worried, obviously, and made it just fine.

From there, it was a race against the sun, and I took off for small towns and state parks. After blowing through Indian Springs and Flovilla, I reached High Falls as the sun was setting through an approaching thunderstorm. The light cast was pale and yellow, and mixed warmly with the bright red rocks and earth along the river. After parking and scurrying down a trail for a good vantage point of the falls and pools in the exposed rocky river bottom, I stopped for a few moments and let the approaching thunder and disappearing sunlight wash over me for the final photo. The rain let loose right after I got back to the car, and I left it behind, with a good day of travel, as I sped back to Atlanta.

Trip: October 14, 2017

Visited: Pleasant Valley, Bostwick, Good Hope, North High Shoals

Weather: Partly cloudy to overcast and dodging rain.

Camera: Samsung Galaxy S6 mobile phone.

Notes: I took a drive to Athens, stopping to revisit some places I’d seen before, and near where I grew up. Oconee County is a lot more scenic than I knew as a child, and there’s more hidden there than I can see - several grist mills survive on private property. This trip was relatively uneventful, but offered a high point with finding semi-abandoned railroad equipment outside Monroe.

Bostwick, which I’ll revisit, has more to offer, including an annual Cotton Gin Festival.

Trip: July 8, 2017

Or, a nice surprise close to home.

Visited: Rex, GA

Weather: Sunny, hot.

Camera: Samsung Galaxy S6 mobile phone.

Notes: A one-off on my way to a barbecue with colleagues and friends. Over a decade ago, I’d pass through Rex occasionally, on the way to an ex-girlfriend’s family. The one-lane bridge was the only road through back then, before the new bypass was built, and I remember a man would be set up by the bridge selling socks by the dozen from his truck. The town was tiny then, but lively, at least in my memory.

Rex offered an odd continuity from my trip the day before - Melvinia Shields. Melvinia Shields was born into slavery in 1844, and was moved from South Carolina to Rex, GA when she was 8 years old. By age 16, she had a son, Dolphus Shields, whose descendants would later settle in Chicago. His great-great-granddaughter, Michelle Robinson, married Barack Obama, taking his last name and becoming the first African-American first lady in history, and the first with a clear line to slavery.

Melvinia eventually moved to Kingston, GA, where she is buried today. And Kingston, GA built a monument to her, as did Rex, GA, to honor her and the journey of her descendants. And somehow I ended up at both monuments, back to back.

Learn more at https://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/08/us/politics/08genealogy.html.

Trip: July 7, 2017

Or, the inaugural trip and test run.

Visited: Powder Springs, Hiram, Dallas, Braswell, Rockmart, Aragon, Taylorsville, Stilesboro, Kingston.

Weather: Sunny, hot, scattered rain and thunderstorms.

Camera: Samsung Galaxy S6 mobile phone.

Notes: This trip officially started the project. It was so hot out - the kind of hot where the rain evaporates instantly on the pavement. It was the first time out, and I didn’t know what I was doing, so I spent too much time in Cobb County (thrift stores!) but made good time through the rest of the afternoon.

At the Town & Country motel outside Rockmart, two gentlemen pulled up in a car and tried to sell me the sign - all that was left of the businesses. After trying to convince me that they owned the property, and trying to pry information out of me (“where you from? how much would you pay for it?”), they eventually gave up and confessed that they didn’t own it. “Just kiddin’.” Later, I’d learn that the Town & Country’s owner was murdered there in 1975, lending this interaction some eerie vibes in retrospect.

In Stilesboro, I was lining up a shot of Plant Bowen’s cooling towers looming over farmland. And the farm was a dairy farm - the stench was impressive, and the air was thick with it. I’ve never thought of cows to be particularly engaged creatures, but these followed my every move, grunting, mooing, and clearly expecting something. I think it was dinnertime, and I was not meeting their expectations. I’d never seen cows in a full gallop before.

In Taylorsville, the town was having a “Pickin n’ Grinnin” event, with dozens of older folks clustered in the town’s event hall, which had its large garage doors open. Everyone was playing guitars and banjos, country songs in tandem. I kept the windows down for my brief time in town.

At Kingston, there wasn’t much going on. After I finished my photos, I stopped in at the convenience store in the downtown strip on Railroad St for a snack - road food, a can of soda and a bag of chips. All the town’s energy was in the store - in contrast to the empty, quiet scene outside, the inside was buzzing with fluorescent lights, gossiping patrons, the bantering store manager, and the constant jingles of electronic gambling machines.

The sun was quickly setting, and it seemed time to call it. Cartersville and Adairsville would have to wait, but it was a full day nonetheless. A good start.

Lessons Learned: Get out of Atlanta and go - don’t get distracted by stuff I live near.

About Every Town in Georgia

I grew up in a college town and made my home in the city, both in Georgia.  In a family with somewhat midwestern roots, we were more likely to have sauerkraut on reubens for New Year’s than collards.  When I moved to college, I injected myself into a pseudo-southern city, one preoccupied with constant growth sustained by an ever-flowing supply of transplants from other places.  After more than 15 years in Atlanta, it struck me that there was a whole state out there I hadn’t seen - my own - and that I could be a better, more understanding Georgian for seeing it.

Somewhere along the line, spurred by good friends and traveling buddies, I learned to embrace the joy of a long drive, maybe taken for no damn reason, and maybe to nowhere in particular.  So I’ve decided to visit every town in Georgia, past and present, and to take at least one photo in each. It’ll probably take 10 or 15 years, or more. This website will archive these photos, and when I feel like it, a little commentary.

I’m starting this project with gratitude and apologies to several other Georgians who have done wonderful work exploring, photographing, and researching our state.  I’m hoping to avoid a simple retread of their work and footsteps, and to do this through my own personal lens, but I owe them inspiration, motivation, and support.