Welcome to Marietta

This is a scene from Marietta “way back when”. The road has/had many names. Atlanta Road, , Dixie Highway, The 41 Highway, The Old 41, and West Atlanta Street, which is mostly what it is named today and most of my lifetime.

It was the main highway that went through Marietta. Stay on it going north, as is shown in the picture, and you will end up in Chicago. Turn around and go south and you will find yourself in Miami.

In the picture are two pillows of slate rock welcoming you to the “Gem City of the South”, one on the left and one on the right. By the time I came along the pillow on the left was gone…. Or I don’t remember it, anyway.

As far as it's status of being the main highway of Marietta, it has been replaced the the 4-Lane version of Highway 41, then after that, the I-75.

To the right and out of view is the railway that went through Marietta. To the left was the Hartsfield Store. Mr. Hartsfield was slightly blond and reminded me of the comicbook character boxer Joe Palooka.

Mr. Hartsfield changed directions many times in what his store should carry. One time it was furniture, another time it was appliances, another time it has a “Western Auto” look. His daughter died this year.

Next to him southward was a big white flat building with a parking lot designed for curb service. It was Hunt’s Ice Cream. On the left was an eatery serving hotdogs and hamburgers and old the right was the ice cream making business. Through thick glass you could see all the big churns like machines droning and moaning.

The head car-hop of the curb service was Chuck W. who was about a year older than I. I don’t think his family had much money. He had an old out-of-name car he drove, I think it was a Nash or a Studebaker, I forgot which. Chuck always had a car full of people asking him for a ride, his heart so big he could never say no. And if you were hungry you could go to Hunts Ice Cream and ask for him and he would buy you a hamburger with his tip money.

One time I went with Chuck to help him look for a certain part for his car. The car was no longer made, and even if so, he did not have the money to pay for a new part. I found out the junkyard heads knew him well.

Chuck went to college and didn’t return and was more or less forgotten about. At a high school reunion not long ago somebody said they ran into Chuck someplace, I forgot where at, and he was then president of fairly large company. Good for him, he deserved it.