I live in a small Georgia town called Powder Springs, which is 20 miles dead west of downtown Atlanta.
Prior to the 1830s the land was a buffer zone between the Cherokee and Creek Indians. The Gold Lottery took place, which allowed people to grab land, and they started moving into the area. In only a few years a community started to form, which was later chartered as "Powder Springs."
In the years prior to the Civil War the springs in my town became famous for their so-called healing properties. Soon, the little hamlet became a resort town with five hotels.
During the war Federal troops occupied the city. I've heard mixed stories on what they destroyed, but based on three sources I've found they did not burn the local churches to the ground. They simply dismantled the Baptist and Methodist churches and used the lumber. They used the Presbyterian church for both a hospital, and later for a horse stable. I can say that around here there is no such thing as a "Yankee." They are all "Damn Yankees."
I Cometh
In the 1970s my aunt and uncle settled here. My uncle was a heavy equipment broker and, at one time, was the richest man in town. They had a beautiful home that was a mansion to me. There was a separate room just for barbecuing. The great room was massive, with a high ceiling and a wall of windows that overlooked a creek and woods. Even the laundry room was amazing, which also contained a sewing area and shower. Downstairs, in the basement, there was a game room and a long hall with a row of bedrooms.
I was still living in central Florida at the time and I spent the summers of 1975 and 76 at their home, when I was 15 and 16. It was a lot of fun hanging out with my cousins and we created life-long bonds.
Some of my fondest memories were exploring the vast acreage around their home. Now, a 5-lane highway has been cut through the area and the land has been checkerboarded with subdivisions, but in the mid 1970s the area was nothingness. One summer my cousins and I went deep into the forest and fields and had a blast exploring. We also rode dirt bikes. Little did I know that I was riding the bike in an area that I would one day have my house.
On one of our exploration hikes I remember looking across a vast field and seeing a train on a trestle bridge way in the distance. There was just so much vast, undeveloped land, and it wonderful.
A creek ran through the back of my aunt and uncle's property, and one day my cousins and I walked in the center of it for a couple of miles. Again, all we saw was wilderness.
Back Again
Much to my delight, the next year my dad went to work as a private pilot, and we moved from Fruitland Park, FL to Powder Springs, GA. We moved over the summer and I started my senior year in a new high school. Fortunately, because I already knew my cousins and their friends the transition wasn't too bad. Plus, the Georgians were friendly folks and I had made a new best friend on the first day of school. One of the first things my new friend Daryll said, was, "Did you guys raise hell in Florida?" Well, of course we did, but Daryll was going to teach me how to "raise hell" Georgia style. This mainly involved lots of drinking, smashing mailboxes, doing doughnuts in your car, and getting in fights with rival high school gangs. I stayed out of most of the mischief, but Daryll thrived on it.
Married and Back A Second Time
I got married in 1983 and settled in the nearby town of Smyrna, where I lived for six years. When it came time to buy a house I ended up getting a home in 1988 in the same area that I explored 12 years earlier. My house has a nice 3/4 acre lot that includes a second lot behind my backyard. When I first moved in I could still see furrows in the lower lot, from some long-past farm. Another interesting thing is that I once dug up part of a cast iron school desk in my backyard. One day I need to get a metal detector and scan my property — I think I am living on some history.
Conclusion
So, I've lived in the same house for 26 years now. My oldest daughter was two when we moved here and my second daughter was born two years later. In 2008 developers came through the area and cleared land and were in the process of building all sorts of projects around my neighborhood. Then, the economy crashed and all got quiet. Since the crash, the empty lots are now filled with 6-year-old pine trees. Around the corner from my house there were plans to build a shopping center or something, and homes were actually hauled away, so my area is actually less dense and more wooded than before. It's actually a beautiful area. North Georgia receives a lot of rainfall, and I love rain. I also love trees, and it feels like our small subdivision was carved out of the forest canopy. There are plenty of remnant pieces of land that couldn't be developed, and these area provide plenty of forest cover. I like it here and I like Georgia. I have no interest in leaving this place.
