The Atlanta Burbs

So for the next couple days after my cousin's wedding in Atlanta, I drove Yuko and her family around the two neighborhoods where they had lived almost 20 years ago. The first place we saw was the apartment they originally lived in, not too far out of the Buckhead area. The general neighborhood was very nice, lots of trees, nice older houses with big yards. Every mile or so they would recognize a school or a store or a strip mall or a restaurant that they knew from so many years ago; that used to be so-and-so's house; that was the park we used to run around in. The apartment complex was clearly full of young families and college students. Seeing the old place reminded Yuko and Shun of all the games they used to play at the old place, throwing paper airplanes from their 2nd floor balcony, a favorite tree, or it brought back memories of getting scolded by their parents for some prank or another. But the neighborhood had changed a lot, too. The main local mall had been totally redeveloped and was gargantuan; we ended up eating a disgusting Chinese lunch of greasy chow mein noodles at the mall's food court. Then, while trying to find a store a few minutes' drive away, the neighborhood changed abrubtly and became a mix between an Asian strip mall district and a Hispanic migrant workers' community. It was a Sunday, and there were thousands of Hispanics crowding the streets, often walking around with what seemed like their entire extended family - every hundred feet or so I was afraid I would hit someone.



The next day we drove out to Roswell and saw the duplex they had lived for their last 2 years in Atlanta. It was in an older sub-development off one of the main roads near the highway, but was still nice and quiet, surrounded by trees. Someone else lived there now, but we didn't see anyone around; probably off to school or off to work, or both. Anyway, we walked all around the property, and no neighbors shot us any strange looks. Here is the duplex, from the back.


We drove around all the old Roswell neighborhoods that Yuko and her family remembered, and even spent a half hour finding the house that Yuko's best friend Mai used to live in. It was street after street of leafy, green, suburban American paradise, a sight for sore eyes for someone who has lived in the urban jungle of Tokyo for the last 3 years. The only deflating experience of the whole day was that Yuko's and Shun's old elementary school wouldn't let them look around while classes were in session - no visitors, period. A disheartening reminder of how much America has changed in the last few years, too security conscious to let their own alumni poke around what should be the most innocent and happy of places, their old elementary school.

I think Yuko, her brother and her mom had a good time seeing Atlanta again - they seemed to be surrounded by memories of a happier time. Yuko's father got sick and was diagnosed with cancer after they had lived in Atlanta for about 4 years. They packed up and rushed back to Japan immediately - apparently they were on the plane back to Tokyo only a week after finding out, so Yuko and Shun did not even get to say goodbye to many of their friends. Her father died about a month after they got back to Japan. Atlanta was the last place they were all happy together as a family, and it had been a very long time since they'd seen it.



Anyway, I'll end on a happy note - driving back to the Hilton from Roswell we took the back roads, and came upon this enthusiastically marked intersection - "excuse me, could you tell me how to get to the 10 to the 278 to the 29 to the 8 to the 78?"