Graffiti Woods

The South Peachtree Creek Trail and some of the large houses that overlook it. Photo by me, January 2018.

The streets still showed the battle signs of winter snow being that they were covered in salt and sand but on Sunday it was so warm you would have thought it was spring. The sudden warmth and deep blue sky lured the world or at least Atlanta out of its winter hibernation. I had planned to go for a long walk and apparently all of the city had the same idea which was to put on shorts and get outside, it was that warm. On Sunday the high reached 68 F (20C) and we had not seen weather this warm in a very long time.

I had entertained the idea of heading north to the mountains but I knew the trails would be busy with people out with the same idea during this warm break. There was also the federal government shutdown so I knew some hiking areas would be closed because they are federally managed and during government shutdowns those areas get closed.

I decided to go walk in my regular walking spot at the South Peachtree Creek Trail which is nearest where I live and it is a pleasant place. Every household in my part of the city had the same idea and I have never seen this trail so busy as I did on Sunday. I know how crowded the Atlanta Beltline becomes on weekends so I rarely walk there and on Sunday the South Peachtree Creek Trail was just as crowded.

One of the less crowded moments. Photo by me, January 2018.

I managed to get in two miles on Sunday which was not as long as I had hoped but the time was slipping by quickly and I had other things to do.

I detoured off the trail to the graffiti covered ruins of the old Decatur Waterworks which I had not been down to see since 2011. I took some photos of the place as I wandered around looking at the pretty colors. I noticed some of the old walls had come down since I had last been down there seven years ago.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

Photo by me, January 2018.

I am glad to see that they are still allowing people paint on the ruins. Having an area like this with the old ruins and colorful walls is a cool place to explore and not feel like the entire world has been sanitized.

The Old Decatur Waterworks

Photo by me, February 2011.

T

ake me to a place that is old, falling down and covered in graffiti and I am at home. Perhaps it is the speck of the fragment of the inner anarchist in me or I just like the graffiti and it reminds me of the Berlin Wall. The B-52's Roam ricocheted through my brain too many times when I was a teenager and here I am.

 

This is the old Decatur Waterworks complex located in DeKalb County in the Atlanta inner suburbs. This is a very nice upper-middle class area despite what one might think of a park that has graffiti covered ruins. The bored youth of soccer moms and daddy occupied with a backyard grill that is too complicated and big for a family of three have colorful angst.

Modern society may take a dim view of graffiti but did you know that it has been around since Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece and the Roman Empire. The word etymology tells us that word originates from the Greek word 'graphein' and means to scribble. Graffiti can have a legitimate purpose is often intended to express political thoughts and to voice anger against repression. This isn't always the case of course and sometimes it is used just as a creative outlet.

Look at all those empty spray paint cans.

 The old Decatur Waterworks complex at one time supplied the drinking water for the city of Decatur then to a nearby Naval Air Station (now PDK) and an army hospital. It has been abandoned since the 1940s and since 2006 has been listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Today the area is a public park.

 The old ruins remind me of a place you would see in some post apocalyptic movie or in a music video from the 1980s and 90s. I love the place.

This is one of the old dams with a hole blown through it from dynamite. The county dynamited the two dams in the mid 1960s that had helped to form two lakes that were on the property.

It's a fun place to go explore and photograph if you are ever in the area and you can enjoy the surrounding nature too.

*All photo taken by me in February 2011.

Juror Number Eight

Photo by me, February 2015.

 

It was fifteen minutes after six on a drizzly morning as I caught the bus two days ago and transferred to the train. Traffic is bad enough in my part of Atlanta anytime of day on any day of the week and the thought of morning rush hour was something I did not want to consider. I like taking the train anyway and the station in Decatur was next to my destination, the DeKalb County Courthouse. If I was going to have to report for jury duty, then this was the least stressful way for me to do it.

This was my first time being called to possibly serve on a jury. I had appeared as a witness in a civil trial in the 1990s and had been on my high school mock trial competition team, so courtrooms were somewhere I familiar, but not in recent times. 

 

I was curious about the process of being a juror, but ultimately I did not want to be chosen to serve. The idea of having to repeat this process for days or weeks was as appealing as being kicked in the face by an angry elephant. Once I arrived and filled out my papers, I was split off into a group that was going to form a pool of jury prospects for a civil trial. No murder trial for me and I was glad about that.

 

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

 

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Things got off to a fast start as my group was ushered up to the top floor of the courthouse to wait outside a courtroom. The view was nice as I waited. As much time as I had spent eating, drinking coffee and hanging out at the Decatur Square, I had not seen a perspective from this high up before.

Then we were led inside, lectured by the judge who was rather condescending and not all that grateful that we as citizens were giving up our time to be there. She, like the attorneys for the plaintiffs and defendants were being well compensated to be there, the rest of us were not. I crossed my fingers that I would not get selected to serve on the jury. I did not want to endure another day of this judge.

The case was a boring one. The plaintiffs were a professional couple in their late twenties that had purchased a home from an elderly couple in Dunwoody. The plaintiffs alleged that problems with the home had not been adequately disclosed by the seller and they were suing for monetary damages and pain and suffering. I rolled my eyes as I sized up the plaintiffs. I was supposed to have an open mind about it, but at first glance and without hearing any evidence I was not feeling sympathetic to the plaintiffs.

As we broke for lunch, half of the jury pool was dismissed and sent on their way. I was not so lucky and remained in the pool through the first wave of cuts.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

Downtown Decatur. Photo by me, February 2015.

I grabbed a coffee and sandwich for lunch and wandered around downtown. I thought about the more fun occasions that I had in Decatur from a wedding dinner at Cafe Alsace, dinner dates at Watershed, dinners with friends, playing pool and drinking at Twain's, having coffee at Java Monkey, attending fairs, researching at the library and so much other fun. Being stuck in Decatur not by choice was like being forced to stay in the hospital after surgery to recover. It was the loss of freedom by serving on a jury to solve a stranger's problem that bothered me the most. I was not in a generous spirit.

After lunch I was questioned by the plaintiff's attorney. The questions related to how much I knew about home construction and my own experience with renovations. I struggled to not laugh as I explained that I could do most any home renovation project and had experience going back to my teen years. I felt for sure that the plaintiff's attorney would want to strike me, I assumed he would want jurors with a limited knowledge on the subject that he could mislead.

The next wave of cuts were made and I was still a potential juror. The day was getting long as it became late afternoon. The judge excused us for a thirty minute break and I went out for fresh air. The sun began to break through the clouds and the pavement dried out along with my patience.

We were called back to the courtroom. I was fearful that the judge was going to tell us to come back tomorrow since it was so late in the day. There was one final cut to be made to reach the needed amount of jurors. After some discussion between the attorneys and the judge, the final cut was announced like a cheesy game show. Who were going to be the unlucky contestants to get chosen? A drumroll was missed.

 

Juror number eight was not called. I was excused from jury duty and released. I exited the courthouse so fast that it probably seemed that I was an escaping criminal alluding the police. I did not breathe until I was outside. I could have kissed the sod covered ground. 

 

I understand the justice system relies on juries, but in the matter of a civil case that seemed petty based on the limited details that I was aware, it made me angry to have my time wasted on this squabble between strangers. This was not a good use of my civic responsibility. A judge or some other arbitrator could have decided that case instead of a jury.