What looks now like an ordinary clump of forgotten overgrown forestland by a dry creek bed made up of dusty rocks and sand was once a pristine park in the woods created by a child. In the Atlanta neighborhood of LaVista Park where I lived from 1973 until 1979 was a patch of woods which as a kid I played in almost daily. Sometime around 1974 I met the owners of this 12 acre urban forest, Jerry and Louise Drown. The Drowns had saved the land from developers the decade before and as I have written before in this blog, I was intrigued by the Drown's modern house with their gardens of wildflowers that surrounded it. Maybe the fascination I had with the Drown's blending with nature while living in suburbs, their surroundings felt like the deep mountains, inspired me as a kid of eleven to do this odd project, I build a small park on the Drown's property. I put the park together myself and named it Waterfall Park. I made a sign for my park at home with my wood burning kit and dedicated the spot to Jerry and Louise Drown for as the sign read, "For their Love of Nature". The park was indeed small made up of two small stone lined paths with a few well-placed large rocks amongst some transplanted ferns. It was more of a garden really than a park per say. As the name proclaimed, there was a small waterfall at this particular bend in the creek which as I recall always flowed with clear spring water during my childhood. Other neighborhood children joined in building the park, but admittedly at times the place and project was used as a point of torment by the same children. Once during more peaceful times with the kids on my street, we gathered and held a surprise birthday party at the park for my friend Bert. My pal never expected friends and family to pop out from behind the trees on that day as I lead him on a mission to stop someone from burning trash in the forest. Actually the smoke he saw was from a grill set up for his party. We had our hamburgers and Bert preformed his less than successful magic tricks The joyful times were caught in long lost photos by Jerry Drown who made a living as a commercial photographer.
I maintained this park occasionally into my early teens not letting the dream die before moving out of the neighborhood in 1979. In the late eighties the land surrounding the park was sold to a developer, the Drowns departed for a retirement in the Tennessee Mountains, and townhouses were built on the hills just above the park. I suppose the actual spot of the park was saved due to the creek and the flooding potential in the area.
Though these days I live close by to Waterfall Park's location, for almost thirty years I never got to see what remained of the spot until the day of this above photo. On July 29th I bushwhacked my way into the remaining woods tripping through tangled thorns while avoiding - as I could - oversized poison ivy plants, and I fought off numerous hungry mosquitoes while with the fear of West Nile on my mind. My opportunity to visit this personal hallowed spot had resulted from a house being torn down on the outskirts of the woods thus allowing me the desired access to the area while looking less like I was trespassing, which of course I was. I found a large fence separating me from the actual site of Waterfall Park so I couldn't stand on the site itself. The fence fit the situation since you can't really go home again as the saying goes. Standing there I noted consequence of nearby development as there is a great deal of erosion at the park site. The woods themselves, or what remains of the woods, have been taken over in many spots by invasive plant species, mostly huge amounts English Ivy, all greatly damaging the area of this once perfect forest. The rocks that once made up the park's waterfall now lay partially covered up by sand and dirt and they aren't positioned to make a waterfall now; that is if and when water is following in the stream. It's interesting to see that upstream from the Waterfall Park site someone has built a wonderful redwood screened- in deck just off from their townhouse next to the dry creek bed. I suppose as it is the setting of that deck is ideal with its proximity to trees and birds, but the owners there enjoy their wood addition unaware of the once better environment that had existed; it's my memory and their loss. The babbling brook and hardwood forest uninhibited by overgrowth are now gone. It makes one think about the land we all reside on. As we live on our own space we know changes in the landscape are inevitable for better or worse, though it does cause for a pause to think about what becomes of the land we take from for our lives. I have had countless dreams about these woods of my childhood and of Waterfall Park, but truthfully,while the place still exists, it lives on in better shape in my dreams and memories.
