Originally published: Winter 2005 (revised / edited Summer 2005)


The “intown” neighborhoods just east of downtown Atlanta are names familiar mainly to those who have or still do live there: Grant Park, Ormewood, Brownwood, Reynoldstown, Inman Park, Little Five Points, Poncey-Highlands, Edgewood, Candler Park, East Atlanta, Kirkwood, East Lake. Interspersing home-grown commercial districts in amongst residential neighborhoods, these villages are the heart of Atlanta’s intown. Most of this contiguous district experienced a radical character shift during the early-to-mid 20th century when many whites of means fled intown en masse. Suburbs in adjoining counties flourished. Not everyone left. In fact many moved in, including a good deal of transplants. The modern character of these villages vary widely, from complete gentrification: Candler Park, to blight-rimmed and (for the moment) still sketchy: Reynoldstown. Gentrified or rough, they all resound of the New South boosterism that, for better or worse, has made modern Atlanta what it is.

One could argue Atlanta today is more accurately represented by its ever-widening ring of suburbs than any of its intown neighborhoods, which – as a long-time intown resident myself – I can see in a negative and positive light: negative in that the relative sameness of the suburbs tells little of the unique heart and soul of this city; and positive in that these intown villages remain havens, known only to the few who have sought them out. They really are different worlds. In fact, it’s accurate to say that intown Atlanta is as foreign to most suburban Atlantans as the downtowns of any other deep South city visited by the Civil War: Chattanooga, New Orleans, Nashville, Charleston, etc. Yet despite the lifestyle gap, suburban and intown residents alike share a common trait: few understand – or even know – the magnitude of the destruction that occurred on Atlanta’s east side on the hot humid afternoon of July 22, 1864.

For as long as I have lived in Atlanta, going on twelve years now, it has been a goal of mine to track / trace the flow and events of the Battle of Atlanta set against the pervasive expansion of the modern city. In and of itself, this is a daunting challenge. This is no Shiloh, Gettysburg or Chickamauga. There are no preserved fields. There are no national / state / city parks or pull-offs maintained to interpret what was a major battle, equal in size and of greater significance than other western battles (such as Stones River and Kennesaw Mountain) whose fields and story have been incorporated into the National Park Service. Outside of a few monuments and an array of informative, yet difficult to access historical markers – placed as they are alongside Atlanta’s often unforgiving roadway system – the casual observer would have no idea of the historical relevance of the area, of what was an epic bloody day in our nation’s history.

The Battle of Atlanta set against the hyper bustling transportation hub and modern metropolis that formulated in the first half of the 20th century only to explode in its second half, is a story that has not been well documented. On July 22, 2004, I set out to correct that.


Proceed To Part I > Battle is Joined