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Georgia lawmakers have been accused of moving the goal posts so their party can stay in power. Could an independent set of mapmakers put an end to the process? Or must the courts decide?
The writer discusses his book, which chronicles the dark racial past of Forsyth County.
Once upon a time, my job description was “attack the train, terrorize the passengers, chase the pretty showgirls, fight the armed conductors, get killed.” As an Indian in a Wild West show with the Stone Mountain Scenic Railroad, I carried out these duties faithfully, with occasional embellishment, for two consecutive summers in the late 1970s.
The Atlantic correspondent and MacArthur ‘Genius’ makes a stop at the Carter Center to promote his new book.
Barnes, a throwback to Georgia’s once mighty but now dismantled Democratic machine, was eager to talk about the South’s contradictions. And, as the governor who oversaw the revamp of Georgia’s state flag back in 2001—which removed the battle emblem and arguably cost him reelection in 2002—few are more uniquely qualified.
He is easier to love as a legend than he was as Henry Louis Aaron, No. 44. Or so it seems. He's just as black as he ever was. He still speaks his mind, unafraid jar someone's consciousness, even stoke the fires of anger. But even when, as a result, he receives a letter of disagreement, most of them don't open with Dear Nigger, anymore.
Life as I mapped it out for myself has been good; across my three score years I’ve put my Satchel and Underwood typewriter down in New York, Paris, Munich and in other cities I read about at the public library on Carnegie way. But whenever I’ve thought of home, I’ve thought of eight square blocks in the southeast quadrant of Atlanta, the Fulton Mill Village, called Cabbagetown since around 1946.