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Author Tony Rehagen

  • Tony Rehagen

    Senior Editor

    Prior to joining Atlanta in August 2011, Rehagen was a staff writer and senior editor at Indianapolis Monthly. He has been a finalist for City and Regional Magazine Association Writer of the Year in each of the past four years. His April 2012 feature “The Last Trawlers” was included in the anthology, Next Wave: America's New Generation of Great Literary Journalists. He is a graduate of the University of Missouri School of Journalism and a Missouri native.

 

Shipped Away

On any given workday, the stretch of Georgia 9 that cuts north-south through Roswell is a four-lane wall of cars. Almost as old as the city itself, the thoroughfare was once little more than a dirt wagon path called the Atlanta Road, connecting this mill town to the burgeoning railroad hub some twenty miles south. Read more

Old Spirits

I am in the passenger's seat of a Chevy Silverado winding through the foothills of northeast Georgia, trying to learn the story of Carlos Lovell. But fifteen minutes into the drive, the man has barely uttered ten words from behind the wheel, and frankly, his deep, jowl-draped frown has silenced me in fear that the wrong question might land me in the ditch. Read more

Re: Fredi Gonzalez

I’m still relatively new to town, not a Braves fan. But I’ve followed baseball most of my life, and I’ve gotta say that some Braves fans seem to have an inflated sense of their own suffering. You’ve had, what, two losing seasons in the past twenty-three? Fifteen division championships? Five pennants? C’mon! Read more

Night of the hunter

When Phillip Scott first noticed the alligator in his backyard pond four years ago, the animal couldn’t have been more than three feet long—meaning it was about as many years old. A toddler, really. Read more

Fruit of Labor

The Mexicans—thirty-two of them—wait for the pickup truck. They are dressed, almost to a man, in dirty jeans, boots, long sleeves, and baseball caps. Some wear bandannas to shield their necks and ears from legions of gnats. The rising late-summer sun is starting to cut through the morning mist that clings to the orchards and fallow pastures of Peach County like a thin coat of fuzz. Read more

Wreckage

Pleasant Drive, less than a mile of curb-lined asphalt cut into the residential hills just west of Douglasville, is aptly named. The tiny inlet branches west off the highway, jogging down a decline into a right-hand turn that levels off to a quiet straightaway. Read more

Stories from Camp

In 1993 Camp Twin Lakes opened on 500 wooded acres outside of Rutledge. Today the facility has thirty air-conditioned cabins, a medical lodge, a horse-riding ring, and a pool with a fifty-foot waterslide. Read more

Fauxpocalypse

We live in a world obsessed with its end. The past decade has given us a litany of Revelation-scale misery, or at least the threat of it: 9/11, Katrina, nuclear weapons in the hands of madmen (hello, Kim Jong-un), monster tornadoes, blazing meteors, relentless plagues, hellacious storms. Read more

My Brother's Keeper

It was a bright weekday in mid-September and the Cormier boys—thirty-one years old, identical twins, best friends, incorrigible malcontents—were coming home. Their sixty-two-year-old father looked out his living room window as a U-Haul rumbled into the gravel drive. Read more

The Crossing

The train that killed DeKai Amonrasi no longer exists. CSX Q612 out of New Orleans met its end at Tilford Rail Yard near Marietta Boulevard, a few miles west of Berkeley Heights on Atlanta’s west side. Read more