Let your freak flag fly
A sepia-toned photo shows a solitary, stone and wooden structure-the Church of the Epiphany. No one is around because it is a snowy, winter afternoon. It’s not from nineteenth century New England but nineteenth century Atlanta. Today, the church is gone and on that very spot sits Findley Park, dedicated April 23, 1983. We know this area better as the heart of Little Five Points.
Yesterday, I was thumbing through a coffee table book compiled by Michael Rose called “Atlanta: Then and Now,” which offers past and present pictures of famous locations across Atlanta, including the one described above. I found a Web site called inmanpark.org, which gives detailed histories of Inman Park, including Little Five Points. In case you are not familiar with the area, the heart of Little Five Points is where Euclid, Moreland and McClendon Avenues meet. According to inmanpark.org, when the town of Edgewood was incorporated into Atlanta in 1908, what we know as Little Five Points was born.
While some may disagree, I consider Little Five Points to cover the following area: From Moreland Avenue at Freedom Park south just past Dekalb Avenue just before reaching Reynoldstown; around the elbow curve on Euclid Avenue just beyond the Variety Playhouse and the Bass Lofts (two friends of my family went there when it was called Bass High School) to the WRFG (89.3 FM) radio station stands; and down McClendon Avenue to the cluster of shops where, most notably, rests the Flying Biscuit Café and, until recently, where you could still see the old trolley tracks embedded in the pavement (the area map on l5p.com does not include this area as part of the neighborhood because it is actually more a part of Candler Park).
Inmanpark.org notes the area has gone on a roller coaster ride since the 1930s, from bustling commercial area complete with grocery stores and movie theaters in the 1950s, to seedy goings on due to the exodus of citizens from the city to the outer suburbs in the 1960s and ‘70s, to a rebirth in the 1980s and ‘90s thanks in part to an Atlanta Community Development Block Grant and local entrepreneurs putting money back into the community. Two vacant theaters were saved from the wrecking ball by the late Mayor Maynard Jackson and are the present-day Variety Playhouse and the home of the Seven Stages Theater. The former Bass High School became loft apartments. The former Citizens and Southern Bank branch on Moreland Avenue became the Star Bar (Although I’m not sure if this came before or during the big transformation, before and after pictures can be viewed at atlantatimemachine.com). A whole host of unique shops like A Capella Books, Junkman’s Daughter (with the giant liquor store next door), and Wax ‘n Facts add to the character.
On any given day at Little Five Points, a person might see writers, musicians, poets, punks, skaters, hippies, and a whole host of other people from all walks of life, many hanging around the above-mentioned locations. A Web site called l5p.com describes itself this way: “It’s a business community, a neighborhood, and inarguably the coolest spot on the map between Greenwich Village and the French Quarter. From a bohemian hangout with a cheap poolroom, our neighborhood has grown into a rich mix of art, theater, and commerce. It’s a tasty tossed salad embracing every lifestyle imaginable from Rasta to Gothic, and we welcome you.”
In recent years, townhouses and a huge shopping center, complete with a Kroger, Target, and Barnes & Noble, have appeared in close proximity. While some may worry that these new developments could endanger the independent shops and restaurants in the area, I believe the long memories and strong loyalties of the Little Five Points patrons and residents of Inman, Edgewood and Candler Parks will keep the area in tact and vibrant for many years to come.
November 30th, 2005 at 5:42 pm
I must confess that I live OTP ( Outside the Perimeter ), so my ventures to Little Five Points is on a somewhat infrequent basis– perhaps once a month.
Since Jonathan has written several enlightening articles, from an historical perspective, in regard to Little Five Points I am fairly certain he’s the guy that can answer a question that’s been in the back of my mind for a while. If Jonathan can’t, I’m sure there’s someone living ISP who can. Maybe OTP, too.
I moved to Atlanta in 1992, and in the early ’90s there was an uncompleted, abandoned street access ramp supported by a couple of cement posts located on Moreland Avenue. To say the least, this “THING” ( I’ll call it: the “RAMP-TO-NOWHERE” ) looked strange–beyond strange. I think it was located where the walking and biking trails are now, and near the row of new Victorian townhomes on Moreland Avenue.
What W-A-S this thing–the “RAMP-TO-NOWHERE? The “RAMP-TO-NOWHERE” wasn’t there just for a couple of months, six months, but for at least four or five years. Needless to say, the cost of building this uncompleted, abandoned “RAMP-TO-NOWHERE” and then demolishing it must approach several hundred thousand dollars. Maybe in the millions of dollars?
I am sure cement company CEOs thought this “RAMP-TO-NOWHERE” was a brilliant idea. As a Georgia taxpayer, I don’t this ramp was such a good idea.
I certainly hope that the guy or guys ( I don’t think women could be this dumb) at City Hall, responsible for this brilliant idea, were voted out-of-office. But then on the other hand, when do politicans get voted out-of-office when they do dumb things? Duh! Duh! Duh!
Apparently, a future road (?), a future road to Fernbank (?), a future road to the Druid Hills Country Club ( especially convenient for gay couples ) was on the drawing board, but a politican put up his own ROAD BLOCK.
Chad
December 1st, 2005 at 4:29 pm
No - that project was not engineered by the city, but in fact was a GA DOT project that was effectively killed by the city. That ramp at Moreland Ave was to connect to the Stone Mountain Freeway, which was to connect to said road to downtown. After construction started & was halted in the 70’s, which occured after much of Virginia Highlands & Inman Park was destroyed - much of that part of town was in no-man’s land until a compromise was built, Freedom Parkway. As well as other DOT property, which ran north - south which was to be a freeway connecting GA 400 & I 675 became a park.
December 1st, 2005 at 6:37 pm
Brad,
Thanks for the information. When I moved to Atlanta in 1992, I did give a little thought to the history behind this “RAMP-TO-NOWHERE.” It was quite obvious something went wrong–terribly wrong.
In some ways maybe the ramp should still be standing. It would be a lasting tribute to the inefficiency of government.
Chad
September 16th, 2008 at 3:18 am
The ramp to nowhere was actually going to be named the Jimmy Carter expressway, and it met with deadly opposition.
In the mid seventies in preparation for building the road there were already a ghost town of good intercity housing that was slated for removal. You can still see the steps leading up to where houses used to have been. This road would have divided the neighborhood and changed its character. Many little parks were going to be destroyed. There were lots of protests and anti-road t shirts and anti-road bumper stickers that said “Build it in Plains” (Jimmy Carter’s hometown) Women were chaining themselves to trees rather than let the bulldozers start the destruction. I remember putting anti-road jack o lanterns up on the ramp with friends on 80s Halloween. I am glad that the road did not go through! It would have been a blight on President Carters otherwise stellar reputation.