"I think Georgia is worse than South Dakota for billboards," said Andy, as we headed outside of town. "They are huge and high and everywhere. What an eyesore!"
"I'm more disgusted with all the garbage along the roads in Atlanta," I said. "They need a major clean-up effort. Do you think it's such a mess because of all the ice and snow this year?"
"No, but it's winter," he answered.
Temperatures certainly marked the season and puddles in the Stone Mountain Park parking lot had iced over. We paid our $10 admission fee to see the world's largest piece of exposed granite, the largest high-relief sculpture in the world and a carving larger than the Mount Rushmore sculpture.
"It's in the shadow," said Andy. "Take some pictures now, and we'll come back later for more shots." Even later though the sun never reached the carved Civil War figures of Confederacy President Jefferson Davis, General Robert E. Lee and Lieutenant General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, carved between 1923 and 1973.
But a Snow Park with eight extended tube runs, an ice skating pond, toboggan slides, a snowman-building park and a small child playground, all in front of the carving, interrupted the view.
Sections of the museum illustrated significant events in King's life, as well as an overview of the times. In addition to still posters and artifacts, film clips played and speech segments sounded when visitors walked in the separated enclosures. His eloquent voice on behalf of the disadvantaged echoed again. One section stressed King's trip to India in 1957, when he met Indian Prime Minister Nehru and strengthened his own resolve to follow Nehru's teachings of non-violence for justice.
MLK followed civil disobedience concerning what he termed "immoral laws," taking lessons from Henry David Thoreau and Ghandi. King held degrees from Morehouse College, a Bachelor of Divinity from Crozer Theological Seminary and a PhD in systematic theology from Boston University. Another station showed the March on Washington in 1963, where King electrified the audience with his I Have a Dream speech. With displays geared for children, the museum conveyed the importance of education and the need for open and honest communication. Again, I was learning things I had never imagined.
We watched the movie of his life and walked outside around the burial crypt and reflecting pools and fountains. Chilly as the wind was, the sun and gorgeous blue sky felt like spring. Dry leaves swirled in little whirlwinds at our feet, but grass greened, even in downtown Atlanta. The death of Martin Luther King, Jr. on April 4, 1968, set off rioting in some cities, but hopefully his death was not in vain. Change has come for many.
A quote by John Hope Franklin stated, "MLK discovered it was far easier to secure basic civil and voting rights--as difficult as that was--than to remove from a society the racial prejudices and discriminatory practices by which it had lived for centuries. But by his teachings and example, he infused his own and succeeding generations with a commitment to racial equality and a zeal to work diligently for it." The colorful mural on the side of the community center confirmed that message.
At 1:00 p.m. we met the ranger at the book store on Auburn Avenue for the tour of the King Birth Home next door. Born in an upstairs bedroom on January 15, 1929, M.L., as he was called by his family, lived on Auburn Avenue in Atlanta for 12 years. The three-story Victorian home of his parents and grandparents offered close family upbringing in a prosperous working class environment. Doctors and lawyers lived at one end of his "Sweet Auburn" neighborhood, and blue collar laborers, at the other end of the block.
The house included original furniture, restored to the way it looked in the 1930's, when M.L. was a young boy.
"No pictures though," ordered the ranger. "Flash damages, and the interior is copyrighted."
Andy explained to me later that he had read the children of Martin Luther King, Jr., had copyrighted the inside of the house soon after his assassination in 1968 as part of the estate settlement.
"It's in the shadow," said Andy. "Take some pictures now, and we'll come back later for more shots." Even later though the sun never reached the carved Civil War figures of Confederacy President Jefferson Davis, General Robert E. Lee and Lieutenant General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, carved between 1923 and 1973.
"The flier says Jefferson Davis' thumb is the size of a sofa," I told Andy.
But a Snow Park with eight extended tube runs, an ice skating pond, toboggan slides, a snowman-building park and a small child playground, all in front of the carving, interrupted the view.
"Isn't this place supposed to be a tribute and memorial?" asked Andy, rhetorically.
Southern states had monuments indicating when each had seceded and when the state had been admitted back into the Union. We walked through the area. Most of the park was closed.
Around the back side of the mountain, the Walk-In Trail offered a one-mile stone path to the top. We joined loads of local regulars, probably 30 or 40 people in total, on the blustery, frigid climb. Wind lashed the granite heights unmercifully. I wrapped my scarf tighter. The views of Atlanta were panoramic.
Coming down the mile, we looked more carefully at graffiti carved in the wide rock path. The earliest I saw was William from 1816.
"Do you think they have a record of all the carvings? I wonder about the oldest one," I mused.
Coming down the mile, we looked more carefully at graffiti carved in the wide rock path. The earliest I saw was William from 1816."Do you think they have a record of all the carvings? I wonder about the oldest one," I mused.
"Sue," reprimanded Andy, "that would only encourage more graffiti. Of course there is no map of it."
I'm happy with 1816. Imagine lasting almost 200 years on a windswept mountain face!
Avoiding rush hour traffic, we headed downtown to Martin Luther King, Jr. National Historic Site.
Avoiding rush hour traffic, we headed downtown to Martin Luther King, Jr. National Historic Site.
Sections of the museum illustrated significant events in King's life, as well as an overview of the times. In addition to still posters and artifacts, film clips played and speech segments sounded when visitors walked in the separated enclosures. His eloquent voice on behalf of the disadvantaged echoed again. One section stressed King's trip to India in 1957, when he met Indian Prime Minister Nehru and strengthened his own resolve to follow Nehru's teachings of non-violence for justice.
MLK followed civil disobedience concerning what he termed "immoral laws," taking lessons from Henry David Thoreau and Ghandi. King held degrees from Morehouse College, a Bachelor of Divinity from Crozer Theological Seminary and a PhD in systematic theology from Boston University. Another station showed the March on Washington in 1963, where King electrified the audience with his I Have a Dream speech. With displays geared for children, the museum conveyed the importance of education and the need for open and honest communication. Again, I was learning things I had never imagined.We watched the movie of his life and walked outside around the burial crypt and reflecting pools and fountains. Chilly as the wind was, the sun and gorgeous blue sky felt like spring. Dry leaves swirled in little whirlwinds at our feet, but grass greened, even in downtown Atlanta. The death of Martin Luther King, Jr. on April 4, 1968, set off rioting in some cities, but hopefully his death was not in vain. Change has come for many.
At 1:00 p.m. we met the ranger at the book store on Auburn Avenue for the tour of the King Birth Home next door. Born in an upstairs bedroom on January 15, 1929, M.L., as he was called by his family, lived on Auburn Avenue in Atlanta for 12 years. The three-story Victorian home of his parents and grandparents offered close family upbringing in a prosperous working class environment. Doctors and lawyers lived at one end of his "Sweet Auburn" neighborhood, and blue collar laborers, at the other end of the block.
The house included original furniture, restored to the way it looked in the 1930's, when M.L. was a young boy."No pictures though," ordered the ranger. "Flash damages, and the interior is copyrighted."
Andy explained to me later that he had read the children of Martin Luther King, Jr., had copyrighted the inside of the house soon after his assassination in 1968 as part of the estate settlement.
On the corner stood the fire station, Atlanta's first racially integrated firehouse, and a block away was Ebenezer Baptist Church, closed for several more months of renovation. This church was the center of spiritual and community life for King's maternal grandfather, his father and his own family.
We drove to the Jimmy Carter Museum, Library and Research Center, not far from downtown Atlanta. The Carter Center outdoor patio and sculptures, flag court and rose garden gave us an additional opportunity to enjoy the sunny day. "But with this kind of temperature, maybe we'll adjust a little to heading back north to cold country," said Andy. Temperatures never climbed above 40 degrees.
"You can't miss the Varsity," insisted college roommate Andi in an email. "It's the world's largest drive-in."
We didn't.
"Ring one, two orange frosties, one large, one small," said Andy, trying to "talk the talk."
"What'll ya have? What'll ya have?" chorused the counter clerks from behind stacks of paper cups and Coke machines.
"Ring one, two orange frosties, one large, one small," said Andy, trying to "talk the talk."
He sent me back for a second order of onion rings a few minutes later. Since 1928, the clerks of the Varsity Drive-In have yelled "What'll ya have?" and hungry guests have ordered naked dogs and strings. At 3:00 p.m, we didn't choose dinner, but the world's largest drive-in was certainly, as their advertisement claims, "the fun place to eat."
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