I cannot even count the number of times that I have passed a street and not known the origin of the street’s name. I’m sure most people are for the most part pretty clueless about why streets are named what they are. Some people may even believe that streets are named randomly, but really, most streets are named for a purpose. Whether it is to honor a local or national leader, or to refer to a nearby landmark, the street-naming process is a drawn-out, thoughtful process that is usually meant to commemorate a figure or movement.
Take, for instance, Jesse Hill Jr. Drive: The man this street is named after was the CEO for the Atlanta Life Insurance Company on Auburn Avenue. He used his position to instruct his company to bail out individuals who were arrested for participating in non-violent protests. This intersection commemorates and encourages friendship, speaking out, and community involvement in today’s culture.
Though Jesse Hill Jr. Drive only exists in Downtown Atlanta, 84 streets around America are named after Martin Luther King Jr. The naming and renaming of streets has the purpose to commemorate and advertise the morality and beliefs of a given place, and they work to rewrite history. These men, for instance, were not the city’s favorite people, and the city definitely did not intend to commemorate their legacies during the civil rights movement. However, because they are widely appreciated and beloved by the majority of the country today, the city can capitalize on their legacy by commemorating their lives in conjunction with the street.
The King Historic District is one of the most popular areas in Downtown Atlanta, and especially on Auburn Avenue. The site is his home and his tomb. Martin Luther King Jr. brought civil reforms to Atlanta and the entire Southern region of the United States and his principals and teachings are that of peace and love. It is no wonder that people wish to commemorate his life and death, nor is it surprising that people from all over the country and the world flock to Auburn Avenue to visit his birth home, Ebenezer Baptist Church, and the many museums dedicated to him. It is commendable to memorialize such an influential man in the heart of downtown Atlanta, where his teachings of love and peace continue to be of value and acceptance. However, the manner by which he is remembered is faulty. Yes, he fought nonviolently for civil rights. Yes, he advocated for peace and love for all people regardless of skin color. But he did many other things to that are often forgotten. Furthermore, the street and becomes a memorial for King, rather than for what he fought for. A local real estate agent asserts that, “Well obviously the Civil Rights struggle was more than just King, but if you are going to make a development project work down here [Auburn Avenue] you have to simplify things. You have to come up with a story.” The story is that King is the personification of the Civil Rights Movement, but only remembers specific parts of the movement. It highlights the nonviolent teachings of King, but ignores the part of Civil Rights History concerning the diversity of opinions within the movement such as the Nation of Islam, the Black Panther Movement, and generally just the normative Civil Rights Discourse. By ignoring parts of history, the reinforced idea is that King has redeemed the nation and purged all the negative racism out of the nation, by using the space granted by Atlanta. This history paints Atlanta in a better light than most of Georgia and the south are painted in, which makes me question the true intentions of the placemakers of the King site.
Through the built environment descriptions I have completed in the past, I have really gotten to know more about Auburn Avenue’s history and culture. Each time I returned to the street, whether to a specific location, or just an entire section in general, I began to notice more and more the political implications of the way it is constructed and used by the city of Atlanta. This final trip to Auburn Avenue (at least for the purposes of this assignment) gave me yet another opportunity to see, hear, feel, and experience a political movement in and of itself.
Auburn Avenue is historically known to many as the home to Martin Luther King Jr., the Ebenezer Baptist Church, and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. These buildings and more remain in use today, albeit some more as museums than actual businesses. There is an on-going debate about the future of this street. Should it move away from its Civil Rights Movement roots, or should it remain and maintain its heritage as a counter-public? Walking through the Martin Luther King Jr. Historic District, it is impossible not to feel like you have gone back in time, especially walking in the opposite direction of the skyscrapers that populate the downtown Atlanta area. The buildings are simple, but still ornate and distinguished. The architecture is practical. In many ways, this section of Atlanta is all but removed from the built narrative of Atlanta. Upon recognizing this alien characteristic, I realized that it was the emphasis on the old which made the street so unlike any other place in downtown Atlanta. There are political implications. Why would the city of Atlanta like to promote the history of the street rather than destroy it and move forward? There are many answers to this question depending on who is asked. Some people say it is good to keep the history as a reminder of what was so bad about the south before the Civil Rights Movement. Stemming from that answer is the response that this is a part of Atlanta that did something right. When I revisited this historic section of Auburn Avenue for the third time, this is what I focused on and really looked for in the built environment. Is Atlanta memorializing the street to remember the history so as to not repeat it? Or is the real motive to redefine the memory of the street to shed a better light on Atlanta?
Of course, the answer is subjective. So I will leave images of what I saw below and I will give my interpretations, but leave the rest to you.
Reading this sign, I couldn’t help but notice that it specifically refers to black Atlantans rather than the black population in general. I also found it interesting that it mentions the Williams family in text, but pictures King. This sign is picking and choosing the parts of the history that it tells, and it highlights the positive social advancement that the Atlantan church and its members had as it gained “a worldwide reputation.”
The naming of this structure implies unity. Unity, being a positive attribute of the civil rights movement, is highlighted and focused on, whereas the wrongdoings of the nation, state, and even the very city of Atlanta in such a tense time in history.
I could not help but notice the neutrality in the narrative of this sign. In the larger text, it talks about how the houses were for white blue collar textile workers, but black people moved in after race riots. Race riots, no big deal. What caused the riots? The answer can be found at this link, but it does not appear in the sign. What is discussed on this sign is the presence of black families on the street in quaint housing known to them perhaps as “to-gun” places of assembly.
This sign tells about the past successes of Auburn Avenue as a social hub for the civil rights movement.
All in all, this street is screaming at me through these signs. The city of Atlanta is systematically portraying this street in the best light possible, as any strategic community would in order to attract visitors and potential residents. However, the memory of the place is disturbed, and pieces are left out. From a political standpoint, this could go well, as it does bring visitors. But overall, knowing the darker pieces of the history and knowing them to be left out of the narrative of Auburn Avenue, the street signs seem underhanded and misleading.
For my second visit to Auburn Avenue, I decided to analyze the entire street, along with its intersecting streets, to observe what this area’s character is. Historically, it is well known to have been a wealthy, influential neighborhood in the times of the Civil Rights Movement. But today, it has lost its glory in many ways.
IN A NUTSHELL
The street blocks of Auburn Avenue that are located between Piedmont Avenue and Howell Street are sectioned off by their history and their culture. Though the area was once entirely a street of commonalities and social progressivism, it now has divides. Some parts are willing to change and adapt to today’s culture, whereas other parts are dedicated to keeping the history alive, and honoring the culture of the past.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END: Between Piedmont Avenue & Jesse Hill Jr. Drive
I walked east down Auburn Avenue from Piedmont Avenue. On the first block, between Piedmont and Jesse Hill Jr. Drive NE, there were about ten or so people walking along the sidewalks, mostly because of the transit stop there, but also because of the few restaurants and shops that occupy the space.
At the corner of Jesse Hill Jr. Drive and Auburn Avenue, there are two large murals: one of Martin Luther King Jr. with his famous quote, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends,” and the other is of John Lewis, with the quote, “I appeal to all of you to get into this great revolution sweeping this nation. Get in and stay in the streets of every city, every village and hamlet of this nation until true freedom comes, until the revolution of 1776 is complete.” These murals are facing one another, as if in constant communication and alliance. It is especially fitting for these two murals to be placed at the intersection of these two streets, since . Jesse Hill Jr. worked for the Atlanta Life Insurance Company and, as a man with great authority, instructed his company to quietly underwrite certain civil rights initiatives, such as bailing out individuals arrested for participating in non-violent protests. This intersection commemorates and encourages friendship, speaking out, and community involvement in today’s culture.
NOW IS THE NEW THEN: New businesses occupy the spaces of old.
Walking past this intersection, on the adjacent corner on a light post is a sign, “DRUG TESTING OFFICE 1ST FLOOR.” Well, that was quite a change in morality from one street to another. This sign is situated on the corner, right in front of an abandoned building that is boarded up, which just so happened to have been the Atlanta Insurance Company Branch Office, whose title is visible, though faded. Across the street, there are various offices of small businesses, occupying the historic building of the Atlanta Chapter of the Grand Order of Odd Fellows (a fraternal organization supporting and networking the black business community), who built this substantial building as their headquarters and to provide much needed office, retail, professional meeting and entertainment space for African Americans. Going to the corner, there is a restaurant called “Wok n Roll” which also occupies the building of the headquarters for the Odd Fellows.
Across the street, on the left-hand corner of Auburn Avenue and Bell Street, there is another mural, and this one is of Evelyn Gibson Lowery next to a painting sign for the SCLC women, and the words “Championing the rights of women, children, and families, and responding to the problems of the disenfranchised regardless of ethnicity, gender, age, or religion.” Upon trying to find out what this building was originally used for, I was unable to find any site to propose a special purpose, and only retail listings as office space, and a recent history of being the Black Lion nightclub, and then the Connect Lounge. The space is currently boarded up.
HISTORY: Don’t let go, Auburn!
AUBURN: I’ll never let go!
Next, I continued walking, past the bridge, and across Fort Street, to the beginning of the King Historic District at John Wesley Dobbs Plaza. There are only a few people around this immediate area, mostly homeless, but there is a lot of traffic down Fort Street because of its vicinity to the highway, so it gets a lot louder around here, but it quickly became quiet as I walked further down. The plaza did however have a sign, explaining the decline of Auburn Avenue. It also explains how the culture of the buildings and people between Fort Street and Bell Street were thought of as less important than the new era of highways and urban development. Between Fort Street and Howell Street, there is a mixture of boarded up, closed businesses, historic sites and organizations, as well as new businesses which seem to alternate up and down the building space. There is the Southern Christian Leadership Conference building, then an Escape the Room recreational business, and then a Women’s Southern Christian Leadership building.
There is another mural across Hilliard Street, which highlights the white flight era and one of the main reasons for the decline of the street. But it also speaks culturally, as the area is still a black neighborhood. From this area on, up until Howell Street and Old Fourth Ward, there is the King Center and other churches. The area is almost entirely the same as in the past, besides minor renovations to the buildings, and the addition of statues and commemorative landmarks. To learn more about the Martin Luther King Historic Site, you may visit this web address to learn more. You may also check out my first built environment description about the historic Ebenezer Baptist Church.
For my built environment description, I chose to visit the Historic Ebenezer Baptist Church on the corner of Auburn Avenue and Jackson Street Northeast. I went on a Friday afternoon around 2:00. This was not the original building for the services of the church, but was built in 1914 by the second pastor of the congregation of Ebenezer, Alfred Daniel Williams so that there could be more seating for the congregation that he grew. I went to this site with no true prior knowledge about it other than that it was Martin Luther King Jr.’s home church.
I saw no other people around the building as I walked up and inside the sanctuary at the time of my visit, there were only about ten other visitors. When I arrived, I saw a state park officer standing outside of the building seemingly patrolling the area while also inviting passersby to walk through the church and sit in on a lecture that would be going on downstairs in the next 5 minutes. Talk about good timing! Below are two videos I took during the lecture. It is important to note that the location of the lecture was below the church lobby. NOT THE SANCTUARY.
As I walked into the lobby area, I was caught off guard. It was unlike any church lobby I had ever stepped foot in. It felt more like a Boy Scouts meeting house due to all the national park signage and the information desk. I suppose this is because it is no longer used as a church, but rather as a historic site to visit to learn and feel its history.
To my right were stairs leading up to Fellowship Hall, where services were once conducted. At each and every turn, on the walls were pictures of Martin Luther King Jr. and/or his family members. There were also multiple postings about the mission and vision of the Nation Park Service. Once I walked up the stairs and into Fellowship Hall, I was immediately taken back to a distant time. The sanctuary was unlike any that you would see today as it was so symmetrical and minimal. There were only two plants in the front for decoration, and one picture of Jesus situated at the top middle part of the stage area. There was also one organ, a replica of the original one where Mrs. King was shot just six years after the death of her son, surrounded by red rope to signify its importance. The pews, arranged in three columns with about twenty rows each, were of cold, hard dark wood. There is one pew that is damaged from a ricochet bullet on the day Mrs. King was killed. The carpet is a bright red. There is also a clock located at the back of the church in the center of balcony that is stopped at 10:30, which is the time at which Martin Luther King’s funeral took place. The sanctuary walls were covered with tall, ornate stained glass windows. I then descended the stairs that were opposite the stairs I walked up, and the floor separating the sanctuary from the lobby had a small fountain and plaque. The plaque shows that the fountain is the “Fountain of Love” in memory of Mrs. King. After walking around Fellowship Hall and then back down to the lobby, I went downstairs where a man was giving a lecture about the King family and their involvement in the church. He also did a reenactment of the famous “I Have a Dream” speech by Martin Luther King Jr. He talked about the significance of the artifacts in Fellowship hall, such as the organ and the clock, and he talked about the lasting impact that the King family has had on the church, even though it is no longer active at this site, but rather at another site across the street known as the New Horizon Sanctuary.
Overall, I could definitely feel the importance of the site, but I feel that I should also mention that the updates, renovations, and replicas of the artifacts took away from the experience because it detracts from the authenticity of the space. However, the way that the building was transformed from a historical church with great leaders of influence that taught the word of God, to a national historic site solely used to commemorate those leaders is strongly illustrated through the artifacts and wall decoration throughout the interior of the building.