After multiple rare cancers have been diagnosed in Waycross, Georgia, the city grapples with a profound question: What if the industries that gave us life are killing us?
In 1837, Georgia lawmakers authorized a “Lunatic, Idiot, and Epileptic Asylum.” Five years later, the facility opened as the Georgia Lunatic Asylum on the outskirts of the cotton-rich town that served as the antebellum state capital.
Her critics worried she would be an extension of Kasim Reed. But after more than a year in office, Atlanta Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms wants you to know she’s leading the city on her own terms.
Georgia pecan farmers have thrived for a century. After Hurricane Michael, they’re unsure if they’ll survive another generation.
After Hurricane Matthew in 2016, Hurricane Irma in 2017, and Hurricane Michael in 2018, Georgia's pecan farming industry is suffering. Georgia lost a sixth of its total pecan trees from Hurricane Michael and generations of farmers lost their crops—giving them a long road to recovery. Combined with increasing tariffs, many farmers are uncertain about their future.
The Big Green Egg derives from a simple idea with an ancient lineage, as evidenced by pottery shards of cooking vessels in middens around the world. More specifically, it’s an updated iteration of a commonplace Asian rice cooker: the kamado, a Japanese word that translates as “place for the cauldron.”
Redeeming the Cyclorama: Why the century-old attraction is anything but a monument to the Confederacy
Conceived in Chicago, created in Milwaukee, and premiered in Minneapolis, the Cyclorama was meant to celebrate the Union’s great triumph in capturing Atlanta and hastening the end of the Civil War. But when the painting moved South, new audiences flipped its meaning, bastardizing the spectacle into a testament to white Southern pride. For decades, it was a masterpiece of misinterpretation. Now, it has a new life at the Atlanta History Center.
Georgia’s forests are a shrinking line of defense against global warming. Can Janisse Ray make us care enough to save them?
Georgia’s once-mighty and fast-diminishing forests are one of the country’s least appreciated wonders. Author Janisse Ray has long been their fierce advocate—and as a new threat emerges, her message is more urgent than ever.
U2’s intersections with Atlanta over the years have gone beyond the city as a requisite tour stop. For a band from Europe intent on deconstructing the myth of America, Atlanta—its imperfect icons, its musicians, its leaders—has been a specific, if rarely noticed, part of U2’s journey, not only for the city’s social justice movements of the past but for the present, too. In anticipation of U2’s first Atlanta concert in nine years, two generations of Georgians talk about the band.