Tuesday, August 23, 2016

All Roads Lead to Atlanta and Waterman Streets

I could be in this scene.  It is facing the intersection of Atlanta and Waterman Streets.  If suddenly I was thrown into it and the cars started moving and Kenneth Carlile stepped to the curb with his school patrol white-web belt and cross breast  and held out his hand to stop the traffic for me to cross the street - then would say, "Wait Eddie!  You are not suppose to cross Atlanta Street!  Stay on it until you get to Hicks Grocery at East Dixie and turn left!  I'm going to tell Miss Whitehead and your parents you tried to cross here!"

I remember one time at the corner of Waterman Street and Atlanta Street Van Callaway and I passed a man walking towards us.  When he got close we saw he had no nose.  It had been removed or ripped off - just a raw looking mess.  

From where the photographer is standing you can "sense" Manley and Adams Sinclair Station on the right.  Across the street, if Kenneth had allowed me to cross, up about two doors towards town is/was the house I was born in... but at the time of the picture the house was a service station and the front room had a pin ball machine that we used to play a few games on the way to and from school.

If I changed my direction and started going the opposite way on Atlanta Street on the same side of the street just a few houses down was a green one level stucco house that my Grandma Petty, my aunt Opal, and her son Anthony lived there.  Opal did not own a car and worked in Atlanta, she always lived near a bus stop.  A house or so down was the policeman Harold Griggs' house.  Harold had a daughter my age named Gretchen.  Gretchen was intelligent and good looking.  We were out of her league.  Harold was a Marietta Policeman and so was my father. 

About across Atlanta Street was the a  a big high white fence around it.  Deep in a wooded surroundings was  a colonial house.  It was the Boston Family's dwelling.  I did not  know until I got into genealogy that the Bostons were in-laws.  They didn't know it either, and if they did, they were keeping it a secret.  A Trammell relative, daughter of Leander Newton Trammell, married into the Boston family.

I think the street that went from Atlanta Street, over the railroad tracks to West Atlanta Street was Goss Street.  On the corner of Atlanta Street and Goss Street was my uncle Spencer Crain's Garage, next door to it was Romeo Huggins Welding, and across the tracks was a railroad water tower and the Confederate Cemetery, which is still there.
Back across Atlanta Street again and you at the corner of Atlanta Street and Frazier Street.  The big house on the right is of Senator Alexander Stephen Clay.   Senator Clay was a Marietta hero -his statue is in Glover Park, and he had a noble family.  His kids were spoiled, so I read.  Hubert Clay was mayor of Marietta and a circuit judge for north Georgia - he was also one of the leaders that planned the details in the Leo Frank lynching.

On the other corner of Goss and Atlanta Streets a Polish family lived that were war refugees.  Also, a Polish family lived about 3 doors down from Crain's Garage.  For some strange reason, our principal, Miss Whitehead sent me to their house in the rain to check to see if they were still living there.  Their kids registered for school but quit coming to class.  I went and no one came to the door.  How come I was selected to be the 11 year old truant officer?  That would have been a job for Kenneth Carlile, school safety guard.

There was a nice stone holding wall and plenty of little trees and bushes.  My friend Tony who lived close to me used to take delight in taking a dump behind a bush in the Clays' front yard, on the way home from school.

About two houses down was the Pittards' house.  Charles Pittard was a couple years older than I, we both had a friend in common, Sam Carsley.  But to Charles Pittard I was invisible.

I was not so invisible to a Victory Cab  driver in front of the Pittards' house.  One time I was riding my bike home from school in the rain I slipped and had a crash landing which knocked me out.  A Victory Cab driver drove by and saw me, conked out with a turned over bike. He pulled me over, put me, out cold, into the taxi, loaded my bike up and carried me home.  It was a surprised to my mother when she saw a Victory Cab pull up, the driver to out carrying me like a sack of corn feed.  How he knew me, I will never know.  Marietta was a small town back then.

Down from the Pittards, was the Williams.  The live high on a hill - still do.  They owned a bus company in Marietta.

On the corner of Atlanta and Clay was classmate Elizabeth Hawthorn's grandmother.  South of Clay Street was lived a Marietta Postman, I forgot his name, he had a small goldfish pond in his front yard.  

On down was Crestview Baptist Church where preacher Vice or Bice Baptized me once, maybe they feel they should give it another shot.  Crestview Baptist, like other churches had a huge decrease in attendance and membership so they combined forces (if you want to call it that) with Rose Lane Baptist Church and changed its name to Grace Point and it now they enlisted the help of a retired minister who is good at drawing people, Rev Nelson Price and I think I remember reading they are starting a school.

Then was Hick's Grocery, which appears to be more of a landmark in people's memory than the Clay House.

All things must step aside for new history rolling in.


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