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Dodge & Burn: Exploring Atlanta’s Cabbagetown Neighborhood

Written By John E. Ramspott on March 15, 2012 in Dodge & Burn


Cabbagetown is an interesting neighborhood composed mostly of cottages, shotgun houses, and small bungalows, giving it the feel of a small town while being located only minutes from downtown Atlanta. These homes were formerly occupied by poor whites recruited from the Appalachian region to work in the Fulton Bag and Cotton Mill. The mill closed in 1977, and eventually the residents were forced to leave the area with no other viable employment available. During the time that the mill workers lived there, the neighborhood was well known for people gathering on each other’s front porches as children played in the streets.



This period in Cabbagetown history was well documented by Atlanta photographer Oraien Catledge. He spent nearly every weekend taking pictures of the mill workers and their families. And each weekend he would give away prints from photos he took the prior weekend. A select number of these photos were assembled into the book Oraien Catledge: Photographs by Constance Lewis, after curating a show at her Opal Gallery, formerly located in Little Five Points. Lewis is currently curating a new Oraien Catledge Cabbagetown show for the Robert Anderson Gallery in New York, which opens on March 22 and runs through May 26, 2012.



The neighborhood went through a period of decline until the mid-1990s. Now it is home to a collection of yuppies, artists, and other folks typically more affluent than their predecessors. The porches vary in size, but most harbor a collection of chairs or sofas. But on a sunny Saturday afternoon, those famous porches largely sit empty now. Very few residents are out in the streets except for the occasional dog walker or jogger. There are no children playing in the streets.




The residents have preserved the look of the neighborhood for the most part. Many homes have been restored to their former state, but the feel is clearly different. The old cotton mill is now a residential loft community, fenced in and well secured. A row of quaint neighborhood shops and restaurants across the street from the lofts attract a few pedestrians. The neighborhood still has an identity apart from other areas of town, and is certainly distinct from the suburbs. I enjoy each time I visit to photograph and walk around the area. But the days when these small homes were packed with large working class families, bonded together by employment for the same company, are long gone.


Dodge & Burn is a series of photo essays documenting local culture with a focus on artful imagery, movement, and light. Check BURNAWAY’s homepage for new photography every week, and watch our Flickr account for regular updates!


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  • Alyson Laura

    As a cyclist, I am afford more ‘time’ in my slower pace to see people on porches, and even have an interaction if agreeable. And I’d like to state that Cabbagetown (and it’s neighbor Reynoldstown) have more people on porches than most neighborhoods in Atlanta. In fact, I think Cabbagetown has gentrified to the point where parents don’t let their kids play in the street, but only  few blocks away in Reynoldstown, I regularly see multiple generations spending time outdoors in their yards. Grant Park and Old Fourth Ward also have high likelyhood of a friendly face on a porch.

  • Xtina

    John, 
    So lovely to read your contribution!  Unfortunately, I was not around to witness Cabbagetown closer to its original state, yet I have no doubt that the majority of its current residents are attracted by its history. Although the factory that manufactured indispensable goods for decades now houses young Atlantans of a fashionable, hip variety, essence of the original Cabbagetown remains.  As I walk my dog around some afternoons, the empty porches allow my imagination to wonder what was, how life in this special neighborhood was lived.  The question of what was is what is most essential of what remains. The homes that huddle together, closely lining the street, each with its own, large welcoming porch, causes one to wonder who relaxes on the porch now?  Can we, as a community, be as we once were?  Does that essence of community remain?  

  • Elmer.Artiste

    they ain’t usually no tv on tha porch, der

    dizzy bastards!

  • Anonymous

    Pretty bland coverage of one of Atlanta’s most creative hotspots in the last 25 years. Although that might be the point, it’s also not untypical of Burnaway’s general preference for swank critical discourse over the occasionally squalid lifeblood that pulsed through the local creative community before vector graphics and clean white space came to dominate the world. Surely there’s a way to report on what distinctive flavor remains in town rather than always whitewash it over with ennui-ridden po-pomo cultural critique — isn’t there? I’m sure I saw weeds growing between the cracks in the sidewalk the last I drove down Dekalb Avenue. 

  • Anonymous

    Pretty bland coverage of one of Atlanta’s most creative hotspots in the last 25 years. Although that might be the point, it’s also not untypical of Burnaway’s general preference for swank critical discourse over the occasionally squalid lifeblood that pulsed through the local creative community before vector graphics and clean white space came to dominate the world. Surely there’s a way to report on what distinctive flavor remains in town rather than always whitewash it over with ennui-ridden po-pomo cultural critique — isn’t there? I’m sure I saw weeds growing between the cracks in the sidewalk the last I drove down Dekalb Avenue.