World War, 1939-1945--Personal narratives, American

World War, 1939-1945--Personal narratives, American

World War, 1939-1945--Georgia--Atlanta

Coursey, Lloyd, 1834-1901

Coursey, Nellie Elizabeth

Speare, William Theophilus, 1877-1936

Speare, Frank

White, Ray

Hudgens, Barrett

Bryan, Wright

Quillian, Hubert Travis, 1890-1948

McKibben, John, -1963

Jackson, Graham Washington, 1903-1983

LaGrange College (LaGrange, Ga.)

Bethany Methodist Church (Atlanta, Ga.)

https://dlg.galileo.usg.edu/do-th:geh_vhpohr_261

UDES: History teacher should [unintelligible] – FRANCES MCKIBBON: I remember all that. But it was – Atlanta has a rich history, and I don't think a lot of people who have moved into Atlanta realize the history that we do have because so much of it has been destroyed. They've torn these beautiful homes down and put up these sterile buildings, but Atlanta has a tremendous history. I remember saying to my uncle “do you remember when the terminal station was there?” Because that's where he went out of and came back in. And he said “yes, and the Union Station.” And I said “yes.” The Lowe's Grand, and the Paramount, and the Roxy, and the Capitol, and all of those theatres, and it's gone. It's ridiculous that you tear down something that has history in the name of progress, because progress isn't that important. LILLIAN GANTSOUDES: We did save The Fox. FRANCES MCKIBBON: Yeah, that's the only one that was saved. And even the Rialto -- luckily now Georgia State has it, but even the Rialto was allowed to just disintegrate until Georgia State took it over. But Atlanta was good. It was a good place. I used to get on a street car and go all over Atlanta and never had a fear in my life. I wouldn't even dream of – if street cars were around – do that today, because Atlanta is literally a metropolitan city. At that time I was home from college for Christmas, and my mother had told me to meet her downtown at the old S&W Café. We would have lunch – LILLIAN GANTSOUDES: On Peachtree. FRANCES MCKIBBON: On Peachtree. She would give me the money that I could go Christmas shopping for my family and I was to meet her there promptly at 11:45, not one minute before not one minute after. Well, I sort of just took my time and didn't make it 11:45. My mother wasn't there. I had spent the last ten cents on the car fare coming into Atlanta, and I absolutely panicked because I didn't know what I was going to do. I didn't have any money to call. So I remembered my aunt was working that day at the old Atlanta Title Trust Company, and I walked down there and I said “Frances, where's my mother?” And she said “I know exactly where she is, she's back at the office where she's suppose to be. You didn't meet her when she told you to.” And I said “well, will you give me a dime to get home?” “After you call your mother I will.” And mother just gave me fits. And that taught me that when she said to be somewhere I was on time after that. That was the most frightening experience I ever had. To be stranded downtown and thinking I was going to have walk all the way from downtown home. And it was just – it was a horrible experience. As I said, I wish Atlanta would go back like it was. Everybody knew everybody. Everybody took care of everybody, and now they don't care. They really don't. And it's just too big. It's just way too big. And one other thing and then I'll shut up. When I was a senior high school five of us decided we were going to skip class the last week of school. We were seniors; we felt like we had privilege to do what we wanted to. So we went to homeroom to answer the role call and then we left. And we were going downtown just to look around and have lunch and maybe take in a movie but always be home by the time school left. And when I got home my grandmother was standing on the front stoop and she had her arms crossed like this. And she said “how was school today?” “Fine, we had a good time.” “You did?” “Go call your mother.” And so I called mother and she said “how was school?” And we went through this routine. She said “I understand you went downtown.” I said “how did you know?” Five of my mother's friends saw me downtown and they called her and told her. And this was the week, you know, before we were to graduate – have baccalaurean and on Sunday graduate on Monday. I could go to baccalaureate and I could go to graduation. I was not allowed to go to any of the graduation parties. That was my punishment. And mother said “the next time you do something like that you'll be punished even more severely.” So, believe me that stuck in my mind. Ooh, I never did anything else that was bad. I didn't talk about World War II I just talked about Atlanta. LILLIAN GANTSOUDES: That was wonderful. All right, is there anything else? FRANCES MCKIBBON: Nope, that's it. LILLIAN GANTSOUDES: That's it? FRANCES MCKIBBON: Uh-huh. LILLIAN GANTSOUDES: Frances, thank you very much. FRANCES MCKIBBON: Well thank you for inviting me. I hope I didn't bore you. [END INTERVIEW] [KS]

moving image

Gantsoudes, Lillian

McKibben, Frances Ann Jennings, 1926

none

Digital Library of Georgia

full:001:https://dlg.galileo.usg.edu/do-th:geh_vhpohr_261