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(APN) ATLANTA – It’s difficult to talk about the leftist scene in Atlanta in the 1960’s and 70’s without someone bringing up The Great Speckled Bird, the leftist alternative newspaper which influenced so many minds of the time. But what was The Bird? Who ran it and how did it operate?

Atlanta Progressive News has conducted extensive interviews and uncovered vast archives of The Bird’s back issues, to explain this historical phenomenon to our progressive readers of today.

In the 1960s, there were 800 underground newspapers in the United States. Many lasted a short time, but for eight and a half years, The Great Speckled Bird told the other side that other Atlanta newspapers were afraid to touch.

In 1971, Mike Wallace of CBS’s “60 Minutes” called The Bird “The Wall Street Journal of the underground press.”

But, what does it mean?

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Though a day late and a dollar short, let us all raise a glass to The Brandy House.  The Brandy House was a great Sandy Springs watering hole.   Just moments from Chastain Park, it was a classic bar.  It was Manual’s for the Chastain community, and now it’s gone.  Closed.  Done.   Very sad indeed. 
It was a neighborhood joint, unpretentious, basic bar food and atmosphere.  Families met there.  Grandmothers bought their grand daughters their first drinks.  Galloway seniors snuck into get a burger. 
It was also a performance space and that made it memorable.  For two months, the Brandy House had possibly one of the best house bands humanly imaginable.  Jeff Sipe, Steve Cunningham, and Adam Nitti played some of the best sets the city has ever heard.  In one case, the first set was a continuous jam with completely original themes, then the second set was a continuous jam moving from cover to cover.  The vibe of the Brandy House made that possible.  Open, inviting, and worth relaxing. 
Brandy House also had a house improv troupe.  The Comedy Dogs ran there for years and several of their alumni still perform around town today.  There are not a lot of these waterholes left.  Fuzzy’s, thank heavens, survives.  As does the Bucket Shop (a cousin of the Brandy House).  Manuel’s forever remains an institution.  Still losing Brandy House is a blow.  People will go to 5 Seasons instead (and that’s a great place), but it won’t be the same.

It’s all three, actually, depending on who you ask. Perched atop a hill on Fifteenth Street, just off of Peachtree Street, and facing the Woodruff Arts Center is a strange complex that puzzles each new passerby. Former Mayor Andrew Young referred to it as a “hunk of junk” and was scheduled for demolition in the 1980s until preservationists ultimately saved it. In 1989, it was designated a landmark by the city.

The “hunk of junk” was originally a retirement home for Ferdinand McMillan, Confederate veteran and co-founder of the McMillan & Avery firm, dealers in agricultural machinery. McMillan designed it himself and construction was completed in 1910. Residing with his wife and niece, McMillan dubbed it Fort Peace and lived there until his death in 1920. Viewing the interior of the house during McMillan’s stay would be interesting, but it is the exterior, still mostly intact, that is unique.

Michael Rose, in his book “Atlanta: Then and Now”(I’ve referenced this book before and if you don’t have a copy, put it on your Christmas list) notes that the house reflects the eccentricities of McMillan, built on a solid, two-story Stone Mountain granite base (judging by the capitalization, I assume that the granite for the base may come from Stone Mountain), canon openings and a Chinese turret. The house is built in the Victorian style that characterized mansions and homes in the area (most now gone) of the same period.

McMillan was a friend and one-time neighbor of Joel Chandler Harris, author of the “Uncle Remus” stories. According to atlantaga.gov, two niches in the second story façade and another niche below those contained small marble rabbits, the “Uncle Remus spring,” drinking fountain for pedestrians passing by, and other carved replicas of characters associated with Uncle Remus.

The position of the house allowed McMillan to maintain a large garden. Aside from his interest in gardening, McMillan had a great interest in inventing, according to atlantaga.gov. He reportedly designed one of the region’s first cottonseed oil presses, “the suction system for gins,” as well as the sub-irrigation system for his garden. With all of the unique features, McMillan said his basic intention was “to get as high into the air as I could, and there to build me a country home in the city.”

The surrounding four homes in the area were acquired by the Art Association and eventually demolished in the 1950s and ‘60s as the museum of art complex expanded. McMillan’s dream house remained, was dubbed “The Castle” and was inhabited by the burgeoning artistic community. From the end of World War II through the 1970s, Hazel Butler Roy owned the home and opened it to the artistic community. Various individual artists and performing arts groups rented rooms, lived, worked and played in the house. There was even a restaurant inside called the Carriage Room Restaurant.

Today, the towering skyscrapers of Midtown dwarf the house. Atlantaga.gov reports that AT&T plans to use the house for its Promenade project (I was unable to find specific details on this project after searching the Web. Anyone who knows more, feel free to share.). Aside from the significant architecture, The Castle remains a monument to the early Atlanta artistic community and a reminder of the four Peachtree Street homes demolished to make way for the Woodruff Arts Museum and the newly expanded High Museum of Art that we know and that it now overlooks.

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.

Nestled in a wooded space, between Freedom Parkway, and paralleled by bike paths is a quiet island. In one direction is the downtown Atlanta skyline. In the other direction is Inman and Freedom Parks. The landscape is dotted with old Southern homes and the only sounds in the early morning are birds chirping and the occasional passing car. So it’s hard to believe that over 140 years ago, this was the site of a bloody Civil War battle. It was the place where the Union began to drive Old Dixie down.

About two weeks ago, I was riding my bike on a path that parallels Freedom Parkway, heading toward downtown from Little Five Points when I came upon a historical marker. Being the history geek that I am, I immediately pulled over to investigate. It read “Battle of Atlanta” on top and details what happened on July 22, 1864. From that very spot, Major General William Sherman directed Union troops against the Confederates, led by General John Hood a mile and a half southeast from where the sign stands today (As you read the sign, you are facing north. Freedom Parkway is up on the hill to your left and the battle took place over your right shoulder, down another hill).

The modern cityscape has erased much of the original battlefield and changed the shape of the land. “About North Georgia,” which I found through a Google search, uses modern landmarks to help readers understand where the battle took place: “the battle stretched from just south of the Carter Center to the intersection of Moreland Avenue and I-20. From here it formed an arc to Glenwood Avenue finally ending up in the vicinity of Memorial Drive and Clay Street, almost to the site of Jesse Clay’s house. Bald Hill is part of a ridge along which Moreland Avenue runs. The ‘hill’ portion of the ridge runs north of I-20 and a few feet east of the present-day road. As soon as the hill was taken Union soldiers renamed it Leggett’s Hill, after their commander.” Got it?

When the dust had settled, 3,641 Union and 8,499 Confederate troops lay dead. A year later, the war was over and the time for reconciliation and healing, not an easy task, had begun. A century and a half later, this same location is a peaceful place, a silent refuge from the maelstrom of everyday city life- an island in Atlanta.

A stone’s throw away stands the Jimmy Carter Museum and Library, a monument to a president who desperately wanted to cure the pains of Vietnam, erase the shame of Watergate and reconcile the differences of the Sixties. The Carter Center is dedicated to promoting human rights and peace around the world yet it rests so close to a former battlefield where another struggle for human rights took place. The close proximity serves as a reminder to all visitors that we should put the past behind us but we should not forget the lessons history can teach us.

It seems as if the rumors may be untrue. Last night, I saw a couple moving their things into a vacated apartment upstairs in my building. Perhaps this complex is not destined for demolition after all, at least not in the near future. Here’s hoping these apartments remain a part of historic Atlanta for many years to come.

At an impromptu gathering of the neighbors a couple of weeks ago, we began a discussion of the history of our apartments at 1355 Euclid Avenue. While I have only been living here since early June, I was fortunate enough to engage in this conversation with neighbors who had logged some serious time here.

While no one is quite sure when the complex was built, we judged by the design of the sign in front that the apartment went up in the late 1950s or very early 1960s. The complex is made of three separate buildings, A, B and C. Today, they are painted grey and black, earning the nickname “The Army Barracks” from us residents.

My neighbors told me that the buildings were once red brick, before they were painted. Another neighbor told me that at one point, the buildings were painted all types of crazy colors. Now they are all a uniform color and were renovated several years ago, kitchens and bathrooms upgraded to modern standards complete with security systems.

Not too long ago, these apartments were not well kept, with broken windows, drifters squatting in places and much less security, or so the story goes. Today, each apartment seems safe and I find that I know more of my neighbors than at any other place I’ve lived.

Probably the best feature about the 1355 Euclid Avenue apartments is there proximity to the surrounding neighborhoods. Historic neighborhoods like Little Five Points, Inman Park, Grant Park, Ansley Park, Cabbagetown, and Reynoldstown are all within a reasonable distance, especially Little Five Points, which can be reached on a bicycle via the bike path in Freedom Park. We’re also close to the Inman Park/Reynoldstown MARTA station.

Rumors circulating among the neighbors here are that there are new owners who are not going to lease apartments that open up. This suggests that the new owners will wait until all the current residents move out, tear the complex down and build condos on the property or sell it to someone else for some other kind of use. I have not been able to confirm new owners nor their intentions. There are several apartments that are opening up and we’ll see if we get new neighbors or the apartments remain empty. According to neighbors, the apartments across the street were converted to condos not long ago. Are we subject to the same fate here? Stay tuned.

Though the Braves lost today, they’ve won the bigger war.  Perhaps more than any other team, they actually represent the city.  An entire generation of players has moved through since the first pennants of the early 1990s.  Yes.  John Smoltz, with his determined arm of thunderbolts is still here.  Yes.  We still see Terry Pendleton, though he’s a coach now. 
But like Atlanta, the first generation that pushed Atlanta forward has passed on the torch.  Just as Atlanta has never been the focal point of American Cities but keeps itself near the top, Atlanta has only won the world series once (10 years ago in 1995).  Still 14 years in the play-offs is a remarkable streak and the Braves will continue it this year.  So too, the city has weathered some tough years and some changes in leadership.  The new generation is making the city stronger and taking things forward. 
What Atlanta can learn from the Braves is consistency.  The Braves have been very good for a very long time.  I am sure at some point, Bobby Cox will write a management book and it will remain at number 2 on the Amazon best seller list right behind Tony La Russa.
Still, the Cox book will be worth reading.  No one has made it into Baseball’s post season as consistently as the Braves and Atlanta now needs that consistency to show the world that we are more than a flash in the pan.  We are a city that is actually developing a sense of itself and the Braves are at the unifying heart of that. 
Congratulations Gentlemen.  Thank you for 14 great years.   More please!

Acapella Books, in Little 5 Points, has gone out of business.  This is very sad indeed.  It was a great little bookstore.  Lots of used stuff.  Great politics and philosopher sections and a room dedicated to affordable science fiction.  Perhaps the folks a DragonCon will hold a seance to channel its spirit into another store around town.
The loss of Acapella is particularly disturbing as it comes just on the heals of a new plaza opening just south of the Little 5 area.  A city loses something culturally when Big Box stores that cater to the lowest common denominator drive out long time stores that served a neighborhood clientel’.  It also means that Atlanta is sliding back a bit. 
When communities first form, they only have local stores.  No big boxes in Rutledge Georgia.  As they begin to grow, the chains do their economic analysis and see if the market will bear the traffic and then build.  Waffle Houses, Steak and Shakes, Wal Marts, and Publix start to come in.  As the population grows in income and sophistication, Dillards, Starbucks, Barnes and Nobles, Macaroni Grills etc. come in.  All, of course, competing against the local establishments that helped the community get off the ground in the first place.  If the community still grows in wealth, sophistication, and so forth, you get your Borders, Emerils,  Nordstrom,  Crate and Barrel, Ikea etc. 
Now your community has reached Big Box saturation, much like Atlanta.  The next step, however is interesting.  To keep growing, you need to develop a new set of store unique to your city.  A reason to come because no one else has it.  No one else has Foyles books in London.  No one else has Marshall Fields main store in Chicago (or Wax Trax for that matter).
When a city loses a long time store or neighborhood that has survived, it loses part of what makes it unique.  I’d hate to lose Sevananda, IFO, 20th Century Antiques, or Manual’s.  It would be a crying shame, just like Acapella.

Yes, it’s true - this post is merely a shameless plug of my Atlanta photo gallery. But in my defense, I think I’ve got some pretty good pictures. My ultimate goal, I suppose, is to capture on film CF card all the various neighborhoods and suburbs of Atlanta. I think it’s important to have pictures of the environs in which we go about our day-to-day lives, for our own enjoyment as well as that of future generations. (I’ve been a shutterbug all my life, like my mother and grandfather before me - I can’t help it, it’s in my blood!)

Favorite collections thus far: Cabbagetown, Springtime in Midtown, Marietta.

And if someone could tell me what this weird tower in the Old Fourth Ward is, I would greatly appreciate it! It’s been bugging me to no end.