Looking at the Past Through Present Eyes

Recently I read something that said Douglasville, Georgia is “known for nothing.”

Considering I’ve spent the last few years of my life learning the fascinating history of my little area of the state saying that Douglasville is known for “nothing” riles me up a bit.

Case in point……the summer of ’68.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had been assassinated in April…..followed by hundreds of riots across the United States.  Dr. King’s contemporaries with the Southern Christian Leadership Conference decided that they would go ahead with Dr. King’s planned Poor People’s Campaign….an effort to bring attention to the nation’s poor. 

This was not a movement focused just on black Americans.  Dr. King intended…..the SCLC’s leadership intended for the movement to focus on all ethnic groups.

Different caravans representing the nation’s poor would converge on Washington D.C.  A camp “city” was set up along the Mall called Resurrection City.

The main caravan headed to Washington D.C. would be the Mule Train out of Marks, Mississippi.  The caravan of wagons crossed Mississippi, Alabama and finally entered Georgia mid-June.

They were met at the Georgia state line by Georgia State Patrol officers who had been ordered by Governor Lester Maddox to serve as the Mule Train’s escort until they crossed the state.

Was there some effort on the Governor’s part to intimidate or harass the folks participating in the Mule Train?

I don’t doubt it.

Was there some effort on the Governor’s part to attempt to keep everyone safe…..those participating with the Mule Train and those citizens who came in contact with the trek across Georgia?

Given the tense times that summer….I don’t doubt it.

The Mule Train had left Marks, Mississippi on May 13th. While folks were still reeling from Dr. King's death and the subsequent riots, Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated on June 5th, a few days before the Mule Train reached Douglasville.

I’ve written about the standoff between Mule Train leaders, the Governor, the State Patrol and the Sheriff of Douglas County here along with a news story and a few pictures that appeared in the Douglas Sentinel.

A week later after things had calmed down and the mules had gone on their clip-cloppy way the editor of the Douglas Sentinel published an editorial. 

I’m reproducing the editorial here in italics with my thoughts interspersed in regular type. 

The incident in Douglasville last week involving the so called “poor people’s” mule train to Washington D.C., and area law enforcement authorities is the latest example of how publicity-hungry the leaders of the flagging civil rights movement are becoming.

Even the normally liberal Atlanta Constitution condemned the incident, saying the marchers “have an ‘incident’ which is earning them publicity, and they are milking it for all its worth.”

After researching the Poor People’s Campaign as I did I believe Dr. King had a valid point in attempting to call attention to the nation’s poor. President Johnson’s “War on Poverty” had all but stalled by 1968 due to the Vietnam War. The history teacher reason for this is that you can’t fight two wars at the same time.

The Sentinel editorial continues….

The whole thing began when the marchers refused to take another, safer route into Atlanta, and demanded to travel Interstate 20, a high-speed expressway. The Georgia State Patrol offered to escort the 13-wagon train via any other route but apparently the so-called “poor people” were determined to violate the law and draw what they hoped would be unfavorable publicity to Douglasville and Georgia. Evidently, they also hoped to revive the now ineffective campaign in Washington D.C.

What would happen if I decided to take a mule driven wagon to Atlanta today….down Interstate 20? 

I’d be stopped and charged with a misdemeanor for sure.

It’s against the law now….it was against the law then.  

While Governor Maddox did have his issues with Civil Rights during the 1960s and 70s, I don’t think he was being nitpicky about detaining the Mule Train. He had a legitimate problem since it WAS against the law. The Mule Train could have continued down Highway 78 to Atlanta, but were adamant about taking the Interstate.

Was it just about needing a shorter route?   Or……did Willie Bolden and other SCLC leaders realize this episode could result in further media attention to shed light on the Poor People’s Campaign?

By the time the Mule Train reached Douglasville the efforts at Resurrection City along the Mall in Washington D.C. were falling apart. It had rained for days….the “city” had become a muddy mess literally and figuratively. Things weren't going well.

The editorial continues….

Willie Bolden, an official of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference was the main ramrod in last Friday’s defiance. But, he skipped out of town so as not to be arrested and became the “official spokesman” for the group. Bolden appeared back in town late Friday afternoon and mumbled a few ridiculous sentences about Douglas County being a “very, very poor county.”

His assistant, Andrew Marrisett attempted to dish out the usual propaganda about a moral right to disobey “unjust laws”, but found himself searching for the right answers when asked by a reporter if someone could strike him (Marisett) if the person believed the law against assault was “morally wrong.”

Marisett also attempted to say it was alright to disobey a law “if you are willing to pay the cost”. However, as it turned out, Marisette and the marchers really weren’t paying anything. They received several hours of rest in Douglasville’s armory, along with a free meal.

However, some 50 Georgia State Patrolmen, Douglasville Policemen, and Douglas County Sheriff’s deputies spent from 16-48 hours without sleep because of the marchers’ foolish antics. Many also went without food for long periods of time, in addition, the state of Georgia had to bear the cost of the patrol protection.

A cost was paid, but not by the so-called “poor people.”

I find it interesting that the author of the editorial…..I’m not sure but I believe it to be Tommy Toles, who was the editor of the Douglas Sentinel at the time……continually put quotation marks around the words poor people throughout his statements. I have no idea if he understood or appreciated the underlying mission behind the Poor People’s Campaign, but it’s obviously he felt the whole episode could have been handled without the taxpayers in Georgia and in Douglas County in particular “paying the cost.”

The editorial continued…..

Sheriff Claude Abercrombie and his entire department, along with Douglasville Police Chief Grady Traylor, his officers, and all state patrolmen are to be commended for the excellent job they did under very trying circumstances. Even the marchers and out-of-town newsmen complimented all three law enforcement branches very highly for their actions.

The thinly veiled effort to draw good publicity to the mule train and to put Douglasville and Georgia in a bad light fell flat on its face. It is apparent that  more and more people are beginning to see the civil rights movement and the so-called “poor people’s” campaign for what it is – an effort to further socialize the United States.

However, we are thankful no violence erupted in Douglasville and no one was injured as the mule train made its way to Atlanta in the early morning hours last Saturday.

This whole matter occurred in Douglasville not because the folks with Mule Train had an ax to grind with Sheriff Abercrombie or anyone else in Douglasville….it happened because it’s the spot where Interstate 20 began back in 1968. 

However, looking back on the entire event it’s easy to see the event for what it was.  An opportunity to get media attention for the Mule Train, and an effort for the Governor to be able to say he tried to enforce the law.

You really can’t blame either side….

Given the climate of the times I can’t help be proud of the people of Douglasville. The situation could have erupted into any of the other numerous situations across the nation where violence ruled during those times.

I'm wondering why there isn't a historical marker at the armory where the Mule Train participants were detained or at least on the school grounds where the marchers camped.

Seriously!  I think this is something that should be remembered.....

And the Poor People’s Campaign?  

This site sums it up well……

“For many of America's poor, there hasn't been much progress in the 40 years since the Poor People's Campaign. In 1968, 25 million people — nearly 13 percent of the population — were living below the poverty level, according to the Census Bureau. In 2006, 36 million people or more than 12 percent of the population, were living below the poverty level.”

The American society has so many issues to work on….and yet we continually allow ourselves to become distracted with the noise and static.

Why are we complacent with numbers like those above?

It’s not about bullying your way down the interstate when there ARE other routes…..it’s about what you do to help someone.

Start with one...

Lockerly Hall

Even though we finally got a few days of sun here in the Atlanta area, it’s cold.

It’s freezing cold.

It…is…brutal....damn…cold.

I could blame my age for my aches and pains that seem to like to scream in the worst possible ways during bitter cold weather, but in the end I think it’s just my desire for warmer climates.

I just seem to be in a better mood at seventy degrees or higher.

So, I’m looking forward to April and May…..

I’m so anxious for it I’m already planning a few places I want to go and explore.

Places like Lockerby Hall in the Milledgeville area.

Lockerby Hall serves middle Georgia as a public garden and educational resource with a pond and nature trails.

The site of the home was first used by Richard J. Nichols as his home site in 1839. The home was the centerpiece of Nichol’s plantation, Midway.

The home was known as Rose Hill then due to the roses that covered the banks around the house. When Nichols died in 1849, Daniel R. Tucker, pictured below, served as one of the appraisers for the estate.

Tucker purchased Rose Hill in 1851, but a year later the home was tragically consumed by fire. Tucker built a new home on the same site using the Rose Hill name.

Rose Hill changed hands several times after Tucker died in 1879.

Reginald R. Hatcher bought the property in 1928 and renamed the home Lockerly Hall after an estate in Hampshire, England.

The next owner, Edward J. Grassman established the Arboretum Foundation in 1965.

Today, hundreds of visitors including high school biology students from Baldwin, Putnam and Hancock Counties visit the Arboretum to enjoy the grounds, and later they get to tour a “haunted” house.

There are tales of the heavy wooden pocket doors slamming shut by themselves, ashtrays hurling themselves across rooms and ghostly figures of a man and a young girl have been seen…….mainly during periods of disruption such as renovations.

Some think the apparitions are those of Daniel J. Tucker and one of his daughters….

Yes, this is one destination that is going on my list!

Taking a Little Time for Hiram

Today ,when most people living in the Paulding, Cobb, and Douglas County area mention they are heading to Hiram, they are referring to the long strip of box stores and chain restaurants along Highway 278 that have sprung up in recent years.

They aren't wrong. Those businesses...Walmart, Target, Kirklands, Jim n Nicks BBQ, Longhorn's, etc....are all located in Hiram, but the original "town" part of Hiram is located a little south of that and is found along Highway 92.

Folks zoom by the old part of Hiram...the original town site....since the main road doesn't actually go through. It's easy to zoom by as you have your sights set on your destination along Highway 278.

I've done that for years. Every time I blew by the site sitting down in a little depression by the railroad tracks I thought....gee, I really should drive through there and see what the old town part of Hiram has to offer, but I never felt I had enough time. The picture below is taken down in the old town part of Hiram looking up at the Highway 92 bridge.

 

 

The few old buildings...the old church with the rounded brick walls looked interesting enough, but for some reason we tend to zoom by those interesting areas that are the closest to us and instead focus on history that is far away when we happen to have the time to investigate....when we happen to be on vacation or something.

Shame on me....shame on you if you are guilty of that as well. 

I decided to drive through the old town part of Hiram and give it a good look-see, and have decided it's a nice little destination for a good lunch at the Olive Tree Restaurant and then explore the antique stores located there.

The area hasn't always been known as Hiram, however. Going back to the 1830s the area soon became known as Gray's Mill. After I came home I accessed the city of Hiram's website for their history.

The history section is based on a book by Kathryn Bookout called Hiram, the Little Town by the Tracks. An apt title, right?  Ms. Bookout owns Main Street Antiques found there along the tracks. Her book can be purchased there.

 

Gray's Mill referred to a mill located a little above where the old town site sits today and was owned by Garrett Gray. Like many settlers to the western area of Georgia his roots began in South Carolina.

Garrett Gray was the son of Isaac Gray, a Revolutionary War soldier and was born on September 23, 1801. The Gray family moved to Georgia in 1825 settling in Franklin County. There Garrett Gray eventually met up with Jane Jenkins. Jane had been orphaned as a small child and raised by her older brother. They had moved to Franklin County in 1825.

Garrett Gray and Jane Jenkins married January 1, 1828. They farmed in Franklin County until 1835 when they moved to Paulding County. Gray became well known and prominent because of several contributions to the area.

According to the history listed at the city of Hiram's website regarding Garrett Gray:

*He had a contract to deliver the first locomotive on the first Georgia railroad

*He built the first cotton gin in Paulding County around 1836

*He served as state representative for the area which for a time was Cobb County and then Paulding in the Georgia General Assembly

*There was even talk for a time about Gray running for Governor of Georgia.

When the Civil War broke out Garret Gray enlisted as a private with Company D of the First Regiment Georgia Calvary in 1862. He was released later to due to his age.

Gray also built a grist mill near the town site where other settlers could get their wheat an corn ground.

Gray's obituary from the Paulding News Era dated April 29, 1887 reads...."Died, Mr. Garrett Gray, an old and very highly respected citizen of this county died yesterday and was interred at the old family burial ground."

 

Gray's son, William Jackson Gray is mentioned in an edition of Memoirs of Georgia which verifies most of the information here, but it does need to be remembered that most of those entries were submitted by the gentlemen themselves.

At the time of Gray's death the name of Gray's Mill had not been in use as the formal name of the area for a few years. In 1881, a post office designation was given to the area and the name Hiram began to be used. Hiram was used because of Hiram Baggett, a man who lived in the area and served as the first postmaster.

At that time it was very common for areas to take on the name of the postmaster. Some areas even changed names over time as the postmasters changed. Hiram did not. The town incorporated in 1891, and the name Hiram became legal.

The wording to the original Hiram town charter can be found here.

Hiram Baggett was born in 1846 and was eventually married to Julia Ward. During the Civil War, he served in the 2nd Company F, First Confederate Regiment of the Volunteer Infantry of Tennessee. After the war Baggett moved to the area then known as Gray's Mill not knowing that his name would be given to the town that would eventually spread beyond the few frame buildings along the railroad tracks.

The Case of Harold (Willie) Walls - Favoritism in Henry County?

The morning of June 11th started off like many others. I was trying to get various things done in the house including a few writing projects. It was a little past lunchtime, and I was feeling accomplished since I had already marked several things off my list, and then....my cell phone rang.

I glanced at it and saw it was the Mister calling.

There was nothing unusual about the call since we often exchange texts, Facebook messages or calls during the day as most married people do, but this was going to be one of those life-changing calls.

I just didn't know it.

I answered and the Mister didn't say anything for a second or two, but the minute he did I knew something was wrong.

"Where.....where are you?"

I was taken aback by that question and instantly bristled a little. I snapped, "Well, I'm at home. I'm up in the middle of the bed trying to get some writing done. Why?"

As the Mister answered me and continued to talk I could hear the fear and concern in his voice. He said, "I just had to know where you were......"

"What's wrong?" At this point my mind was racing. Were we under a terror attack, had one of our parents passed, was one of our children hurt? Oh no.....the kids.

"Sam's been in a wreck. We don't know anything yet." I could hear loud voices and crying in the background at the Mister's office.

Sam was Samantha Kirby. She was the wife of the Mister's business partner, Blaine Kirby. She was a very lovely and vibrant woman. Sam's day had started normally that morning just like mine. She conversed with her husband before he went to work, dressed, did a little around the house, and then made plans to meet her son for lunch.

Sam did her normal everyday activities.

She didn't know it was her last day of life.

She never made that lunch, and when her son waited and she didn't show and she didn't answer her phone, he went looking for her.

Yes, sadly he found the accident scene.......and the long nightmare for the Kirby family had begun.

At the time the Mister called me everyone was still hoping that Sam was being extricated from the car and would be rushed to the hospital, but there was no need to rush.

Our Sam was gone.....

Last night Channel 46 here in Atlanta aired a story titled "Tough Questions After Hampton Councilman Kills Woman in Crash". You can see it at this link.

Many thanks to Wendy Salzman for airing what is so obviously a flawed accident investigation and flawed presentment to the grand jury with lots of different ties to Hampton City government and the government of Henry County as well.

Here it is November....five months after the horrible accident and the person responsible has not been issued a single ticket or been required to pay a dime of any fine.

Please click through to see the video, but parts of the text story state:

Hampton City Councilman Harold Walls was driving a dump truck that hadn't been properly inspected in years at the time of the accident on June 11. When his brakes malfunctioned, he collided with another car and killed Samantha Kirby.

The article continues....

Records obtained by CBS Atlanta News showed that Walls' commercial truck hadn't been properly inspected in accordance with motor carrier safety regulations since 2003. A Georgia State Patrol inspection after the accident found the truck had multiple deficiencies, including the brakes being out of service.

.....In a legal response, Walls admitted he was the only person who inspected the truck over the last five years, which means the government inspection sticker on the dump truck is fake.

Walls uses the truck for his business, D & J Hauling. The business has no business license and hasn't had one for three years.

The article also states Walls walked away from the scene without taking a drug or alcohol test and without a single citation. The first responder to the accident was the Henry County Fire Department where Walls retired as an EMT in 2010.

While this matter was presented to a grand jury, there are too many details here that beg for further investigation including HOW THE MATTER WAS INVESTIGATED BY AUTHORITIES.

The Kirby family screams for it....her friends scream for it....and any citizen of Henry County and Georgia should scream for it.

Something is very, very wrong in Henry County!!!!!

The Hampton mayor and councilmember information can be found here.

.....and yes, you can find Mr. Walls' number and e-mail address there, too since he is councilmember.

Henry County Commission information can be found here.

I understand that Henry County has a new District Attorney. Perhaps he needs to know that he has a case that requires another look regarding favoritism, perhaps he needs to know there is a business owner in his jurisdiction thumbing his nose at laws regarding licensing and commercial vehicle inspections.

The Henry County District Attorney's number is 770.288.6400.

The evidence in this case was presented to a grand jury, who dismissed the charges. That leaves Walls free to drive a commercial vehicle.

The Election of 1884

Well, the long road to the Election of 2012 is over, and tomorrow evening we should know who the next occupant of the White House will be.  

I spent some time yesterday wondering how Atlanta reacted to past elections, and I found an interesting account from the Election of 1884 including revelry that lasted all day and night as well as citizens bursting into the General Assembly while in session and a river of fire ran through the city's streets.

Read on...it's not what you think.

You may rely absolutely on Cleveland's election....

Once those words were sent out to cities all over the United States via telegraph the Election of 1884 was over.

Grover Cleveland would be heading to the White House.

Franklin Garrett, Atlanta's premier historian advised in his book Atlanta and Its Environs......In ten minutes 1000 democrats were in consultation as to how best to celebrate. Mr. Henry W. Grady was elected marshal of the day. Committees on music, bloody shirts, bonfires and parade were appointed and at 10:30 there were over 3000 men in line.

The Constitution for November 8, 1884 stated the following:

In front of the procession were two volunteer drummers, Gresham and Brown. Following them, leading the line of march came Mr. Grady, his hat wrapped with a new silk flag, and Alderman Lowery bearing an immense flag, which was greeted with resounding cheers.....

Next came the bloody shirt brigade....bearing red shirts stretched on crossed poles.  Affixed to each shirt was a placard reading, 'We are going to burn this!'

The bloody shirt made reference to instances during the campaigns where reference had been made to martyrs in exchange for political points.

The newspaper account continues:

Behind the bloody shirts came about a thousand men bearing small flags. Next to these was a huge United States flag stretched as a canopy over 50 men in charge of Jim Iverson, Hoke Smith and Dr. [Clinton T.] Brockett......

As the procession marched up Broad Street it was met by Hon. E.P. Howell and Major John Fitten with a brass band they had picked up in a jiffy. They had gathered perhaps 500 people, who at once fell into the column, the band taking its place in the center. As the march proceeded up Broad it was greeted by cheers from the crowd that lined each side of the way and filled all of the windows. Up Marietta Street it was the same.

On reaching the capitol the line of march was turned into the side steps and up into the corridor it poured like a torrent.  When they reached the door of the house, the drummer started in. The doorkeeper made some show at holding the doors, but Mr. Evan Howell bracing against the brass drum pushed in and the crowd followed with a rush.

The house was in session. The drums were stilled, and the members in surprise rose to their feet.

Mr. Grady with beaming face announced:

'Mr. Speaker! A message from the American people:'

The house rose as one man this time, and the column marched onto the speaker's stand, with drums beating and colors flying. Hon. Lucius Lamar was in the speaker's desk. Mr. Grady siezed him in his arms, and took gavel from his hands, and rapping for order said:

'in the name of, and by the authority of Grover Cleveland, President of the United States, I now declare this house adjourned until tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock!"

The house took the point like a flash. Most of the members were on their desks, the uproar and cheering were terrific. The speaker took the stand and tried to restore order, but the thing was over. A resolution was offered by Mr. Flint of Spalding congratulating Cleveland and Hendricks. It was voted on by 2000 people, who filled every nook and corner of the house. There were calls for 'Grady' for several minutes but he had left to adjourn the senate and the governor.....

....in front of the capitol the broad streets were packed with 10,000 people shouting themselves hoarse. The bands were playing 'Dixie' and the yelling was deafening. Governor McDaniel was brought down accompanied by General Lawton. They were received with cheers and encircled with United States flags. Mr. Grady then announced that Governor McDaniel would address the unterrified and jubilant democracy of Fulton County from the customhouse steps.

The bloody shirts, saturated with oil were fired in front of the capitol and burned amid the wildest demonstrations of joy and approval. When this interesting ceremony was over, Mr. Grady introduced Governor McDaniel......

Over a thousand torches were provided and at six o'clock a remarkable scene was presented about the Constitution building and for blocks around. Everywhere the weird light of the torches could be seen and the streets were filled with crackling bonfires, until the picture was like unto a view of the infernal region. Everywhere was one moving mass, while shouts rent the air and horns shrieked and drums beat and bands played. It was a wild scene and one that was calculated to fill the stoniest soul with patriotic enthusiasm.

At seven o'clock the procession started, led by a detachment of sixteen mounted policemen to clear the way. Following came young men from the Democratic League, about 300 strong, bearing [signs]. The greatest procession, to the music of 'Dixie', turned into Broad Street and proceeded toward Mitchell......Broad Street seemed like one mass of moving fire, and a wild pandemonium of exultant democratic noise.....Along Whitehall were brillant illuminations and thousands of flags fluttered gaily, while every few feet bonfires and colored lights made a scene that was as dazzling in its brilliance....

....As the procession passed along Whitehall, it was easy to see how imposing it was. Among the [signs that the people carried were the slogans]: Low tariff and reform, Paint the town Red, .....and Tell the Truth....

....At the Constitution office the procession was reinforced, and again they started out passing around Broad, Mitchell and Whitehall again.....Everywhere immense bonfires were burning, rockets and Roman candles were firing and the scene was a wild one....

....The procession turned into Peachtree, and then a scene of grandest brilliance occurred. The procession by this time was nearly a mile and half long and the thousands of torches looked like a river of fire that flowed along the ridge lined by the bank of trees. The residences were brightly illuminated. The Capital City Club was brilliant as a palace and the lawn of Leyden House was filled with a thousand Chinese lanterns, while the building was lighted by hundreds and hundreds of candles, making it a blaze of light.......

....By the time the procession turned into Peachtree there were fully 25,000 people on the streets. Never in the history of the city were there so many people out at one time. 

[At one point] the procession was joined by the Gate City Guard under command of Captain Jackson. The procession turned in Forsyth Street and proceeded to the customhouse, halting in front of the building and filling Marietta Street with a sea of fire for blocks each way.

For some time the horns tooted, the bands played, the drums beat, the populace shouted, the cannons boomed and there was a regular whoop-la time of it.  [When the quiet was restored Mr. Grady introduced Senator Brown who spoke. He was followed by several other  just as enthusiastic speeches.]

Then the crowd took to the streets. The procession started up, and the boys went ahead painting the town red. Until after midnight the exultant shouts were heard. At one everything was quiet, only here and there a stray shout. At two o'clock silence brooded over the sleeping city, and the greatest democratic demonstration was over.

The election of Grover Cleveland in 1884 was important because a losing streak for the Democratic Party that had lasted for over 25 years had been broken. After years of Reconstruction following the Civil War the South finally had a Democratic leader. This meant something as in those days Democrats were the majority in southern states.

It had also been a difficult and bitter election.  Accusations regarding an illegitimate child had been hurled at Cleveland and his opponent....James G. Blaine had some ethics issues as Speaker of the House.

Cities all over the state of Georgia.....all over the South celebrated the election of Cleveland that night including my own home of Douglas County.   I've shared a bit about their celebration which included a mule here.

No matter which candidate is deemed the winner tomorrow night......let us celebrate the fact we have the freedom to choose our leaders.

Chinchillas, Ponies and Donkeys.....Oh My!

Growing up in Red Oak, Georgia along U.S. 29 or Roosevelt Highway my father indulged my sister and I with just about every pet imaginable with reptiles being the exception. Of course, we had the regular assortment of dogs and cats that just seemed to take up with us...usually at a time when they were about to bless the world with a litter of puppies or kitties, but we also had a few unexpected animals of the more exotic type.  

While Red Oak wasn't exactly the city during the 1970s it was more city than country and considering we lived on the grounds of a large lumber yard....West Lumber Company...it wasn't the spot where you would expect to find a large assortment of animals. 

For example, we had bunny rabbits and colored chicks bought at the feed store in College Park during the springtime along with various ducks that would run around the yard quacking up a storm. I had little turtles bought with my allowance money from the Woolworth at Jamestown Shopping Center, and so many goldfish were flushed down the toilet at Red Oak I'm amazed my parents didn't have serious plumbing issues.

At one point we had six chinchillas. My sister and I loved waiting for them to be in the right position in their cages so we could reach in and grab them by the tail...the only way to safely pick up a chinchilla since they have very sharp teeth and love to bite. Daddy had designs on breeding, raising, and selling the little critters, but at some point I think he finally realized all of our chinchillas were...alas....of the male persuasion.

Daddy, being the farm boy that he was, felt my sister and I needed to experience a cow...a calf to be more exact at some point when I was seven or eight.   So, a baby calf was delivered to the house inside a rather large wooden crate. I say large because the crate was as big as my bedroom. Every single day our job was to give the calf his food and give him his bottle. 

Yep....he had a huge bottle resembling a baby's bottle with the longest nipple I'd ever seen. For a time it was one of the highlights of my day to visit the calf and give him/her the bottle. While he or she ( I really don't remember) pulled and tugged at the bottle I tried to keep steady by using my other hand to pet the calf and I would tell him all my deep dark secrets.

Then there was the Christmas morning that my sister and I heard a commotion on the front porch along with a knock on the door. We had already waded through the stacks of presents under the tree and just figured company had come "a callin'", so we opened the door not realizing yet another animal was about to enter our menagerie.

A pony!!!

A pony had climbed our front steps and was standing on our front porch.  I couldn't believe my eyes. From what I now understand our little pony had won several ribbons and various trophies, and his owner needed to retire him, so the pony came to live at our house for awhile. 

It was a very exciting Christmas morning!!! 

Then there was the day we found the donkey tied up in our yard. We never named our larger animals. The calf was The Calf....the pony was the The Pony...and the donkey was....you guessed it....The Donkey.  I felt sorry for him since he was rather homely in that donkey kind of way.  I mean....he was a donkey, right?

He put up with a lot from me. At my young age I patted, prodded, and rubbed him. I talked to him, hugged him, rubbed his nose, kissed him, fed him treats, and just generally loved him very much...probably too much because one day he figured out how to loosen the knot from the rope tied around one of our oak trees. I'd really like to think he just wanted to go exploring a bit, but more than likely he was trying to escape all of the love I tried to bestow upon him.

The donkey decided he'd take a trip down to the center of Red Oak. Instead of taking the highway he decided to run down the rail road tracks. I caught sight of him and my screams alerted  an employee of my father's who set off after my beloved donkey. To make matters worse we could hear a train whistle in the distance, and I was afraid not only my donkey would be hit by the train....I was concerned for the man trying to rescue him for me.

The train went whizzing past the house and it wasn't until the train passed I saw the man carefully making his way up the side of the tracks...rope in hand...pulling the donkey with him. He had managed to catch up with the donkey and get him off the tracks just before the train passed.

Another hot summer afternoon I heard a commotion out on the highway in front of the house. I went to the porch and saw where the donkey had gotten loose yet again and ventured across the tracks and was standing in the middle of the highway. I had been told to never cross the tracks without an adult so...I commenced to hollering and crying afraid my donkey would get hurt.

Mom came running and hurried across the tracks to get to the donkey. Then I really began screaming and crying because now not only was my donkey across the tracks...so was my mother. When I was younger I had tremendous separation anxiety during most of my elementary years where my mom was concerned.

Looking back on it now the whole situation was hilarious....even though at the time I was scared and NOT amused. Not accustomed to seeing a donkey in the middle of Roosevelt Highway the traffic had come to a stop both ways and the cars were gingerly taking turns slowly making their way around my donkey...first one direction and then the other. The donkey...well, he just stood there on the center line of the road...just staring into space as most donkeys do looking off towards College Park with his rope dangling down his side and leading off behind him. Every now and then his tail would twitch and swat at a fly.

Mother grabbed the rope and tried to get him to turn around towards our drive so she could lead him home. The donkey would have none of that.....

She tugged.

The donkey resisted.

She pulled.

He shook his head at her.

She pushed.

He bared his teeth at her.

By this time several folks were getting impatient and began to honk their horns upsetting all of us...the donkey, Mother, and me. The donkey didn't like the car horns and began making noises. 

Yes, he stood there in the middle of the road and began braying as loud as he could.

Heeee-Haaaaaw........Heeeee-Haaaaw......Heee-Haaaaaw!!!!

A few of the folks who actually knew us hung their heads out the windows as they inched by mom saying, "Heeey, Geri!", "Having fun?", or just attempting to give her advice or encouragement of some sort.

By this point the donkey was tired of the whole "game" and took a set-down. Yep, I now know why a donkey is often referred to as an ass or a Jackass to be more precise. The donkey just plopped his big fat ASS right down on the center line of Roosevelt Highway....just sat down and proceeded to ignore my mother for the next fifteen to twenty minutes.

Then as suddenly as he had sat down he stood up, turned around and walked back across the tracks and into our yard as if he owned the world and did that sort of thing every day. 

My mother wearily looked on and then trudged on along behind him across the tracks, into our yard and up the steps. She didn't even offer to tie him up. I think my dad did that once he arrived at the house.

Our donkey found himself put out to pasture at a family friend's farm within the week where he proceeded to irritate the Mama Cows by trying to mother their calves.

Our family stuck to dogs and cats after that.

The Tullie Smith House

If you've ever visited the Atlanta History Center chances are you've walked around to the Tullie Smith House or the Smith Family Farm.   It's promoted as a prime example of an early plantation home....not the stereotypical Tara portrayed in Gone With the Wind, is it?

The house dates to 1835-1840 and was built by Tullie Smith's great-grandfather, Robert H. Smith who arrived in Georgia from Rutherford County, North Carolina.  Before it was moved to the Atlanta History Center the house sat at 2890 N. Druid Hills Road on what was once Smith's 800 acre farm.   He had eleven slaves and was typical of the yeoman type farmer who lived in Georgia during the mid-1800s.

Tulllie Smith was the last family member to live in the house and though I don't remember her my sister does.  Our family used to live in the Druid Hills area, and our mom knew Tullie Smith.   She and my sister would often stop to visit with her.   

When I was in the classroom I loved taking students to the Atlanta History Center and tell them that my sister had actually played on that very front porch as a little girl while my mom and Miss Tullie visited.   While students were fascinated by my connection to the house they were all amazed when the docent would tell them about the Traveler's Room off the front porch.   This was a room where travelers who were coming through late at night could stop and stay.   Since the room remained unlocked the visitor could enter the room without disturbing the family.

I don't think I would have enjoyed waking up to "company" without prior knowledge........

This is a picture of Tullie Smith standing at her mailbox along Druid Hills Road in the early 1960s.

Tommy H. Jones has some wonderful details about the structure of the home here, and he also has a page devoted to Miss Tullie here.