It's 4:00 in Fayetteville. Southbound traffic on GA-85 is stopped. My friend is turning left onto Hambersham drive. The folks headed south stop, and wave him on so he can turn left. As he's turning (everybody is stopped in both lanes), he gets broadsided by a car traveling *on the shoulder* south. The white line was solid before Habersham, "breaks" at the entrance, and not even ten yards past the entrance turns into a turn lane for CVS and Checkers.

go read this letter to the editor: http://www.thecitizen.com/~citizen0/node/33796

One of my earliest memories of a black person was sitting in the sunshine, braiding my blonde baby fine hair into corn-rows. It was 1964, I was 6 years old, and our totally white church was situated in the middle of a predominantly black neighborhood in Atlanta. My mother decided she would invite the folks living around our church to come worship with us. The lady that my Mom was visiting had a daughter my age. She was fascinated by my white blonde hair. I remember sitting in the sun, close to this little girl, and feeling her fingers braiding my hair against my scalp. We chattered about dolls and boys while my Mom visited with her mother. My memories of that day are as warm as the sun that lit the day.

I’m a 70’s kid, born late in the Baby Boom (’58), raised during the energy crisis of the 70’s and the back to earth movement. That fervent need to protect the environment and our resources kind of faded away during the 80’s and 90’s, but now Boomers are faced with another energy crisis, overflowing landfills, and plastic clogging our seas and killing sea life.

I love living here. I lived the first 18 years of my life elsewhere (mostly Decatur), but my parents moved here during the 70's white flight out of DeKalb County. Dad built his home here and we moved in 1977.