One of Atlanta’s best-kept secrets
is the Robert Burns Cottage built in 1910. To get there, take Exit 59A
(Boulevard/Atlanta Zoo/Cyclorama) off I-20 to Grant Park where you take a
left on to Confederate Avenue, go about 1¼ miles and turn left on Alloway
Place. The cottage is just up the hill on your right. Does Alloway sound
familiar? It should, since it is where Burns was born in on a cold
winter’s morning in Scotland on January 25, 1759. In the 1970s,
the United States Department of the Interior recognized the Burns Cottage
and designated it to be forever on the National Register of Historic
Places in America. As the pamphlet from The Burns Club of Atlanta says,
"The only place to see one like it is in Alloway, Ayrshire, in southwest
Scotland…"
This is a brief article about some
forward thinking men who, on January 25th in 1896 (the Bard’s
birthday), founded The Burns Club of Atlanta. Long time Burnsian member
James M. Montgomery, who today probably knows as much, if not more, about
the Burns Club and Cottage as anyone, writes, "Today it is the city’s
oldest continuing cultural organization."
The founding members of the Burns
Club met in various hotels and members’ homes prior to deciding in 1907 to
construct their own building. They were unanimous in one thing - the
cottage would be built as far from downtown as possible but still allow
members access to the last trolley back to town after their meetings. On
his last run, the conductor, as a matter of courtesy, would walk up the
hill to make sure no one was left in "the farming community" for the
night. Some have suggested that maybe this was a wise move on the part of
the conductor since a member or two may have had one wee dram too many!
Many Atlantans played a part in
building the cottage, but none larger than that of the well-known Dr.
Joseph Jacobs. This is the same man who, a couple of decades earlier, had
tried the flat-tasting hangover concoction of his friend John Pemberton,
added a bit of soda water, and gave the world its first Coca-Cola.
(Interestingly, that one little squirt of soda led to a company that last
year had operating revenues of over twenty-one billion dollars and its
stock is currently valued at 130 billion dollars, according to a reliable
source of mine at The Coca-Cola Company.)
Dr. Jacobs bought the land himself
with faith that the club would pay him back later. They did. A Scottish
draftsman was hired to procure the exact measurements of the original
Alloway cottage in Scotland while the club members set about assembling
the granite from Stone Mountain, as well as putting in new streets on the
property with names like Alloway Place and Ayr Place. A unique feature of
the Atlanta Burns Cottage is that it actually bends following a curve in
the road, as does the cottage in Scotland.
I have a postcard showing the
Atlanta Burns Cottage with its thatched or grass roof that I won on the
Internet. It is not dated, but the postage was one cent for domestic and
two cents for foreign. Go figure. A later postcard given to me by Victor
Gregg when he was Librarian of the Burns Club shows the cottage sans
thatched/grass roof. When I inquired about the change, I learned that the
local Fire Marshall had decreed the old roof needed to be replaced with a
less combustible one.
There is a kitchen wing on the
Atlanta cottage that the original does not have. Later, the restrooms were
added after "the farming community" became a part of the city limits. Next
door to the cottage is the home of the caretaker that was built in 1911.
Today, college students live there assisting with the monthly meetings and
special functions, as well as providing some on-premise security for the
cottage. An alarm system watches over the beloved auld cottage on a 24/7
basis as well.
I joined the Atlanta Burns Club a
little over a year ago, sponsored by my good friends, Ed Conley and
Richard Graham. The club members have made me feel at home and very
welcome. I have learned, very quickly, to love that old cottage and its
members. In its own way, it is a hallowed place with its rich history of
guests like the inimitable Sir Harry Lauder, Margaret "Gone with the
Wind" Mitchell, and the Presbyterian minister Peter Marshall, made
famous by the movie, "A Man Named Peter" and played by
British actor, Richard Todd. Bill Harris, our current Librarian, has told
me that Peter Marshall was the Burns’ night speaker on January 25, 1935,
and that it was Marshall who initiated the kirkin’ of the tartan at the
New York Avenue Presbyterian Church in 1940. This was done to help build a
link between our two countries. Membership, then and now, has consisted of
a diverse group. A look at the records reveals that five governors have
been members, as well as those "who sold beer, taught school, plastered
walls, drove cabs, farmed goats, healed the sick, administered justice,
wrote poetry, and laid stone."
It is no wonder I look forward to
the monthly meetings and the potluck suppers that members bring to the
table. The part of the program I enjoy most is after the meal when
everyone stands to introduce themselves and their guest(s). No member is
immune from being razzed by friendly little comments or taken to task
good-naturedly by one or more members in a room that is usually filled to
capacity. Here is where you hear the latest jokes, occasionally some silly
comments, or where swords are drawn verbally, and old friendly battles are
fought again and again, but all in good taste. It is a happy time where
laughter reigns supreme and smiles fill the faces of members and guests. A
speaker usually then puts forth his/her best, and all in attendance
silently pray that each speaker has learned that "the mind will retain
only what the tail will endure". At the conclusion of the program,
everyone joins hands and sings a couple of stanzas of Auld Lang Syne.
What a great evening for one and all! One can imagine Burns himself among
those who come early and stay late and, as Jim Montgomery says, "In this
well-used, much loved Cottage and among these diverse friends, Robert
Burns would feel at home." I know I do!
Robert G. Ingersoll penned these
words that hang in the Burns Cottage in Scotland:
