My stroll down memory lane ...

I've heard from several people about my idea for a "South Side Heritage Book," and some have promised to send stories of their south side ancestors.

But, while they're getting their information together, and being temporarily "dry" for a topic, I thought I'd share something I did last week which may stir some memories for some of you. I took an impromptu trip down "south side" memory lane.

Every four years I have to renew my military I.D. card which entails a trip up to Ft. Mac. This was the year and I went up there last Thursday. But, coming back, I decided to forego the fast track down the Interstate and go home the "old" way, straight down U.S. Hwy. 29 from East Point to Newnan. My mom and I had been talking about some of the places she lived in East Point and I wanted to check those out. Plus, it had been a while since I drove that route and I was curious about the changes that may have taken place.

So, I exited the Lakewood Freeway at Stanton Road and began my trip down memory lane.

First, I swung through Hillcrest Cemetery on a whim, because I recently learned that my husband's grandparents were buried there. That's another one of those genealogy oddities. He grew up in southwest Atlanta, I grew up in East Point, we never knew each other until our late teens, but both our grandparents (Fowlers and Platts) are buried in the same cemetery. Strangelittle quirk of fate, huh?

I didn't find them but wound my way through the (badly-in-need-of-repair) driveways and saw many familiar surnames of East Point people. This cemetery is in pitiful condition and will probably only get worse as spring and summer progress.

Back out on Stanton Road, I crossed Connally Drive and headed down Semmes Street, passed the house where I lived as a very young child, went up the hill to Ware Avenue, down the hill to the old Central Park Elementary School (known lovingly to those of us who went to school there as "Frog Hollow"), and up the hill to Thompson Avenue. I turned right and noted a little brick house almost to Pearl Street where I think my mother may have lived when she was about 12 years old. I turned right on Pearl and right again on Linwood, following it down across Church Street and up the hill to East Point Street. This is where the most dramatic changes have taken place. All the streets and vacant lots I used to play in as a child are gone, of course, but the great stone monument which is the First Baptist Church is still there ... and will probably be there until time eternal.

I continued down East Point Street past Carmichael-Hemperley Funeral Home (formerly just "Carmichael's") where I learned to ride a bike in the parking lot, compliments of Judy Carmichael who had a bike when I did not.

When East Point ended at Vesta Avenue, I turned left and got on Main Street (Hwy. 29) which would eventually take me home. The road has been four-laned all the way to Palmetto and, what was once a charming drive down a two-lane road that meandered beside the railroad tracks all the way to Newnan, has now become just another four-lane strip of asphalt with speeding cars and junky scenery. What a disappointment. This is progress?

Down through College Park, I passed the old depot where my mom once worked at Longino and Smith Insurance Co. So far, it is untouched and I hope they leave it there forever.

From College Park, driving into Red Oak is still recognizable as the first major curve in the road since the southern College Park city limits, and the Red Oak Methodist Church still stands in the same spot, welcoming folks to the town.

The next whistle-stop is Union City, and I passed the brick building (now a bonding company) that was once a store owned by my cousin, John Fowler. Shortly after, I came to Shadnor Baptist Church, supposed to be the final resting place of my GGgrandfather, also a John Fowler. I have never been able to find his grave.

Then it was on into Fairburn, still pretty with its old-fashioned two-story brick stores on the main street, (still wish they had the statue in the middle of the street, though) and into the long drive that would take me to Palmetto, where the road became two-lane again.

I remember visiting my Aunt Lena (Blake) and Uncle Seaborn Hearn who lived out from Palmetto near Rico on an honest-to-gosh working farm back in the 1940s and 1950s. What a treat that was, to spend a Sunday in a place that seemed to go back in time ... riding the old mule called "Gray" ... seeing fields and fields of growing crops ... getting fresh eggs and having a meal with vegetables just picked from the garden. Uncle Seaborn was killed tragically in a tractor accident in the 1950s, and Aunt Lena moved back to Alabama. He was a widower when she married him and she raised his family of five (?) boys to adulthood. I only remember two of them ... Joe and Allen ... but they were always nice to us "city folks" when we visited and went out of their way to see that we kids had a good time. Once, Allen even let me drive the tractor.

Driving out of Palmetto on down to McCollum-Sharpsburg Road, the route appears almost as it did 50 years ago. The tree limbs hang over the highway making it shady in places and there are fewer "junky" scenes of abandoned and dilapidated buildings. I turned left on McCollum-Sharpsburg and was home in five minutes. But it was several days before I could take my mind off the memories I had experienced.

I know many of you out there also have memories of the south side as it used to be. Why don't you tell me about them ... and your families. That is, after all, history, and history goes hand-in-hand with genealogy.

And, don't forget to send your sketches and stories for our "homemade" south side heritage book. I'm really looking forward to doing that.

Send stories to The Citizen, Drawer 1719, Fayetteville, GA 30214; E-mail jkilgore@thecitizennews.com or jodiek444@aol.com.

Until next week, happy hunting!

(Judy regrets that time does not permit her to do personal research for others, but she will willingly share research information on her own family lines.)