Piecing it Together

It’s startling to hear their voices, these women born a hundred years ago, or more. Many of them grew up in the country, in unheated cabins, with only quilts to keep their beds warm. They held lanterns or torches, light for their mothers and grandmothers to quilt by. They watched and they learned. When they came to the city, they brought the craft with them, and they found one another.

These were the original Quilters of Reynoldstown. Their stories are preserved online in oral history recordings, and their quilts were handed down to their descendants, who are our neighbors and very much still here. This neighborhood tradition, dormant for several decades, has reawakened, and the Rangers are proud that we got to help.

The New Quilters of Reynoldstown first met back in the spring of 2023, on the same front porch where the Rangers began. But our neighborhood’s quilting roots go back sixty years or more. From the early 1960s through the early 2000s, three times a week, a circle formed, and fingers flew. Before it began again, with new neighbors, we knew that we had to dig deep. 

The winter quilting season begins on Sunday, January 14, from 3 to 6p. In addition to the twice-monthly quilting session, there’s also an Open Stitch, where you can hem pants, make curtains, or learn your way around a sewing machine. No experience is needed. If you've always been curious about quilting and want to give it a go, or if you have old work clothes to donate to the cause, let us know.

Listen to oral history recordings of the original Reynoldstown Quilters here.

Learn S’more

Why the Rangers? How the Rangers? Who the Rangers? 

Come gather ‘round the campfire, meet the Rangers. Learn where we came from, and what’s ahead. We’ll pass around our vintage thermoses of hot spiced cider, and a flask of two something stronger to toast the new year. Then, if we give you graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars, you’ll know what to do, yes? 

The Leerssens are hosting us, beside the chicken coop and the Stumpery, on Sunday, January 21st, from 5:30 until 7:30. Let us know you’re coming, and we’ll share s’more details.

Fair to Middling

Kiki,

Reynoldstown born and bred, that’s me. Pupped in the bamboo grove off of Wylie Street, hence the name. No, I’m not the famous one -- spelled different; never seen a roadrunner. He bumbles around in broad daylight. I’m a creature of the night -- like so many ATLiens. 

When I howl, do you think of a forest, that place your kind has mostly forgot? Do I connect you to your roots? 

You’re welcome. 

Like you, I’ve had to adapt. Embrace change. I feel not great about that Pekingese. Give me a nice fat possum any day. But. It ain’t easy in the city. Dog eat dog, even. As you already know.

Sometimes in the wee hours, I’m headed home from the night shift. We meet in the middle of Kirkwood Street. Our eyes lock, then in a flash I’m gone. Those moments transport me. They’re why I agreed to this monthly column -- to remind us all that the neighborhood we share has room for many kinds. Also, cause the Rangers said they’d pay me in squirrels -- sweet, sweet, snackable squirrels.

(ed. note: A Spokesranger denied the above accusation, calling it ‘squirrilous.’)

Ailanthus trees (Aka Trees of Heaven,’ a weedy invasive, fond of vacant lots. Smells like peanut butter when cut.)

Awnings (Back before air conditioning, metal awnings caught the breeze and brought the shade. Many of our older homes still feature this regional adaptation to climate.)

A&P Warehouse (One of the first neighborhood examples of adaptive re-use. Stands for ‘Atlantic and Pacific,’ once a powerhouse Southern grocery chain.)

Appletons (Chris and Annie -- along with Apple-teenies June and Alexander -- hold down their end of Manigault. Annie helped form Friends of Lang-Carson, and raised beaucoup bucks.)  

Antenna (The giant antenna down past Wag-a-lot, visible from the entire neighborhood, is a central resource for citywide emergency communications, relaying radio signals for police, fire, and paramedics.)

Alleyways (Some blocks have them, and some don’t. The reason, like so much of Atlanta history, comes down to racial restrictions. Look for the whole story in an upcoming issue.)

Atlanta Dairies (Hard to imagine now, but huge chunks of Reynoldstown were once dairy farms. Then, in the 20th century, railroad adjacency made shipping perishables possible. An active dairy, until the 2008 tornado shut it down for good.)