John Portman, famous architect and developer, should be honored by the city of Atlanta. His contributions to our city are invaluable. His impact on skylines around the world has been substantial. Portman is unequivocally a great Atlantan.

But renaming “Harris Street” to “Portman Boulevard at Historic Harris Street” is a bad idea. It’s not just a bad idea because it cheapens the legacy of both John Portman and Judge John L. Harris. It’s a bad idea because it would set a dangerous precedent for the way we honor Atlanta’s most important citizens.

Picture Bernie Marcus Boulevard at Historic Ponce de Leon Avenue. Or Arthur Blank Street at Historic Andrew Young International Boulevard. What about John Smoltz Boulevard at Historic Hank Aaron Avenue?

Few would dispute the contributions to the city of Atlanta from any of these men. (Well, Ponce de Leon is on his own.) Like Portman’s efforts, their contributions are substantial and usually lauded. I’d contend, however, that we can find a better way to honor these esteemed individuals.

I’m not alone. Recently the Atlanta Preservation Center and five individual plaintiffs filed a lawsuit against the city over the renaming. The idea of changing this particular street name at all has been rejected by the Atlanta Downtown Neighborhood Association. It’s also been rejected by downtown’s Neighborhood Planning Unit. It’s also been rejected by the Atlanta Urban Design Commission.

The Atlanta City Council doesn’t like street renaming either. At the most recent City Utilities Committee meeting, Councilmember Aaron Watson said, “I hope we figure out a way to avoid [street renaming] in the future. I absolutely favor looking into other ways of honoring great Atlantans.” Council President Ceasar Mitchell echoed the sentiment: “We will find other ways to honor people. That’s the direction I want to see us go.”

Oddly enough, however, both men support renaming “Harris Street” to “Portman Boulevard at Historic Harris Street.”

Some folks have argued that this particular street renaming is permissible given the significance of Portman’s contributions and the relative insignificance of Judge John L. Harris’s reputation. Council President Mitchell complained that he couldn’t find anything about Harris on the internet. This is perhaps because Judge Harris served as Fulton County’s first and only representative to the State Legislature in 1855.

Please recall — the internet had not yet been invented in 1855. Neither had the chocolate chip cookie. Judge Harris was a pioneer when Atlanta was a twinkle in the eye of a handful of citizens. If not for him and for them, we wouldn’t even be talking about John Portman. Not in Atlanta anyway.

Street names honor many of our citizens long after their memories have faded. That’s the point. The patina of history, however, has allowed City Council to play favorites with well-connected contemporaries. No matter what Councilmembers might think, Atlanta’s history isn’t comprised of fictional characters that should be discarded in favor of friendship or politics.

John Harris was a man with a family who served our city, our county, and our state. No doubt he and his family took pride in their name, both before and after we named a street after him.

Harris’s cousin was one of Atlanta’s most famous citizens, Joel Chandler Harris, an associate editor of the Atlanta Constitution alongside Henry Grady. I can’t imagine he’d be thrilled if our City Council stripped his family of its honor for no particular reason.

The same goes for Joe Harris’s son, Julian Harris, a prominent Atlantan who won a Pulitzer Prize in 1926 for his “energetic fight against the Ku Klux Klan.” He in particular wouldn’t hide his displeasure with our City Council for stripping his family of its honor for no particular reason.

So too his great-grandnephew, Robin Harris, who as a State Legislator was instrumental in developing MARTA and Georgia’s current Constitution. He wouldn’t be happy about the $100,000 our cash-strapped transit agency will needlessly incur by having to change its maps and signage from “Harris Street” to “John Portman Boulevard at Historic Harris Street.”

Robin Harris’s grandson, yours truly, isn’t exactly thrilled about it either. Honor meant to outlast memory shouldn’t be stripped once someone’s contributions are forgotten.

City Council President Mitchell has said that naming a street after a citizen is “the highest honor a city can bestow.” If that’s true, we can’t leave City Council to pit the merits of great Atlantans against one another and thus erode that honor’s credibility, one street renaming after the next.

By the way, other major cities have already figured this particular issue out. Check out Chicago’s Madison Avenue at Wabash.

Because, as we surely all know by now, “memory” is the theme of this year’s International Museum Day. City Cafe is doing it up right — all this week they’ll interview plenty of other folks about memory in Atlanta’s museums.

John and I talked about my favorite artifact in the Wren’s Nest, pictured above and below. Brer Fox escorts Brer Rabbit to jail for stealing vegetables, and Brer Rabbit drops the evidence along the way. It’s an intricate Bavarian wood carving from the early 1880s. Plus, their heads pop off to better use as a humidor for tobacco.

The piece illustrates just how revolutionary these African American folktales really were. It was the first time animals walked, talked, dressed, and sassed like humans in American literature. Uncle Remus was like Aesop 2.0.

These stories were also the first serialized narrative in children’s fiction, where the animals exist in a kind of alternate universe. There’s no beginning, middle or end to the story. Brer Rabbit was like jumping from Turner and Hooch to The Wire overnight. It’s no wonder Harris had received this gift from Bavaria about 18 months after Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings debuted.

I’ll spare you more. That’s where City Cafe’s “A Visit to the Wren’s Nest” comes in.

It doesn’t really mess around with things like “non-American” holidays or fancy words like “solstice” (June 21st: “Summer Begins”).  What it does make room for, however, is the following, marked on August 21st: “National Historic Landmarks Program Established on this Day in 1935.”  I like your priorities, my calendar.

(The Wren’s Nest, positively glowing about its NHL status.)

The Wren’s Nest is, of course, a National Historic Landmark.  In case you’re wondering what that means, exactly, it’s this: that we’re awesome, and way more awesome than most other old things.

The numbers do the talking for us:

• There are over 1,000,000 sites on the National Register of Historic Places.  Not too choosy, but nice, still.
• 80,000 of those bad boys are listed individually.  (The rest are accounted for by things like historic districts and the contributing properties therein.  Nice try, guys.)
• Out of the 80,000 sites on the National Register of Historic Places, only 2,430 are National Historic Landmarks like the Wren’s Nest.  Yikes.
• This is definitive proof that we’re super special.

Obviously, inclusion in this calendar of similarly special old places would be terrific.  Wanna help?  Take a moment to look at the Wren’s Nest’s interior and exterior photos and vote on which one you think we should submit to the contest.  If we win, we’ll totally share the proceeds ($0) with you!

Happy scrutinizing!

Related: This list of National Historic Landmarks by state is neat.  (There are 48 NHLs in Georgia, in case you were interested.)  So is National Historic Landmark Flickr account.  And!  This weekend (August 14th and 15th) is one of the monthly fee-free entrance weekends at more than 100 national parks.  America, good work.

Over the past five days, I have painstakingly curated and uploaded photos from this year’s West Fest.  Feast your eyes on the West End Tour of Homes and Concert!

Included in the album — concert, tour of homes, dog in pouch, general merriment.

Not included in the album — the Fest part of West Fest, the much-anticipated dog parade, crying.

Second of all, did you see how it showcased my worst nightmares?

I don’t understand why they’re framing Amy Poehler/Leslie Knope’s reaction here as over-the-top.  It seems underplayed, if you ask me.  In fact, I think a phone booth quick change and cape would be appropriate in circumstances like these.

This clip below actually made me gasp and hide my face behind a cushion, as I’m wont to do when something is HORRIFYING. (Or when someone is singing and it’s making me embarrassed for them, but that’s neither here nor there.)

This show, and in particular these scenes, do such a great job contrasting how people view history.  For some, it’s our foundation; for others, well, don’t you think it could use some freshening up?  I mean, it’s so old and outdated. Yuck.

You know which camp I’m roasting marshmallows in.

Also, if you’re wondering why Lain and I insist on chaperoning any event that’s using inside space at the Wren’s Nest, you have your answer.

Like so many of the other participants, the Wren’s Nest will be offering special events and extended hours, in addition to free admission for the weekends of Phoenix Flies:

• On (Saturdays) March 6th and 13th, we’ll have our regular hours (10am – 2:30pm) with two storytelling sessions: 11:30am and 1pm.

• On Sunday — you heard me — March 7th (as well as the 14th), we’ll be open from 1 – 4pm, with storytelling sessions at 1:30 and 3pm.

In other words, don’t believe a word of what you read on Pecanne Log.  Except the part about Oakland Cemetery.  That’s all true.

Phoenix Flies is put on by the Atlanta Preservation Center every year and, simply put, provides an outstanding range of events, almost all for free.  If I may be a crybaby for a moment, this is one of the few times it really busts my hump to work at such a small place, because in order for the Wren’s Nest to be open for Phoenix Flies, we can’t, you know, attend many other events.  Boo hoo.

So please, see all the neat things you can — for me.  I beseech thee.

A surprising (to me, I guess) number of visitors come here just as eager to discuss 100-year-old window panes as they do the work of Joel Chandler Harris.  Living in an old house is a unifying factor, I tell you what, and Lain and I are in the know.  (Let me just say that space heaters become really, really important.)

Which is why we’re so excited about the second annual Decatur Old House Fair on March 6th.  The fair brings together experts in repair and maintenance, design, energy efficiency and historic research with owners of old houses and the likes of you and me.

Last year’s fair — with the awesome tagline “The Greenest House is the One Already Built” — yielded our relationship with Tom Bretherton, who ended up installing our windows during our restoration.

In fact, Lain had such a great time he’s now on the 2010 volunteer committee.  If joining a committee isn’t a sign of love, I don’t know what is.

Added bonus: one of our Board members, Ken Thomas, is co-leading the “Researching Your Old House and What Style is My House?” seminar.  Yay Ken!

Hope to see you there!

The Georgia Trust has released their 2010 “Places in Peril” list and, unlike 2007′s list, the Wren’s Nest was not included.  Phew!  In fact, we were even mentioned as a success story.  (See paragraph fifteen of the AJC’s great article to be inspired.)

The list details historic sites in Georgia, from a still operating hospital (Central State Hospital in Milledgeville) to an archeological site (the Leake Archeological Site in Bartow County) that need attention, funding, and general help to stay afloat or, in many cases, existent.

The list can be a tremendous boon to the sites listed on it, though inclusion doesn’t guarantee results.  It does, however, ensure attention and awareness, also known as “half the battle” (though I might push it to about 75% of the battle).

The list features two Atlanta locations, Morris Brown College and Herndon Plaza (pictured above), both of which are manifestations of African-American success in post-civil war Atlanta.  We wrote about the Herndon Home’s troubles recently, and Morris Brown has had no shortage of local coverage of late.  Still, I hope the Places in Peril list is the boost they both need.

Not to poo-poo our Atlanta brethren, but I am completely intrigued by two other places on this list.  First, you have Capricorn Recording Studios in Macon, who we have to thank for introducing the Allman Brothers to folks outside of Macon.  Southern rock aficionados, I leave this one to you.

My real favorite is The Old Dodge County Jail, mostly because looks like it was lifted directly out of Mayberry. The only difference I can gather, other than one being fictional and all,  is the fact that the Old Dodge County Jail features a quaint “hanging room.”  If the Mayberry jail had one, let me be the first to say that it was totally underutilized on the show.

Being featured on the 2007 Places in Peril list made a huge difference to the Wren’s Nest in 2006, and I hope it has a similar effect on these worthy sites.

I swear I’m not messing with y’all.

Gilbert never secured the rights to the Uncle Remus tales and couldn’t complete his opera, but he did write its prelude.   Gilbert derived these two songs, performed here by Nadia and Vladimir Zaitsev in 2004, from the prelude –

Nadia and Vladimir Zaitsev — “Uncle Remus”

[Dear subscribers, please check out the actual post for the audio.]

Nadia and Vladimir Zaitsev — “Brer Rabbit”

[Dear subscribers, please check out the actual post for the audio.]

Thanks to Fleur de Son Classics for permission to use the music.  If you like it, consider ordering the album here.

The Uncle Remus prelude premiered at a Central Park concert in New York in August of 1910.  4,000 people attended.

The Boston Symphony performed the prelude the following year.  Some people objected to the jaunty ragtime rhythms, but most responded positively “to the youthful vigor, the racy humor and the romantic nature of this new music.”   Philip Hale, in the Boston Herald of April 14, 1911, wrote:

“The overture stirred the blood of the audience.  All rejoiced in hearing a new voice with something to say and an original way of saying it.  The fugue did not dampen the interest of the hearers, for the old form was used with dramatic spirit.  No wonder that the audience, surprised and delighted, was for once in no hurry to leave the hall. [...]  The overture is distinctively, but not bumptiously, not apologetically, American.”

Gilbert was one of the first American composers to break free of the Germanic style of classical music.  For Gilbert, African-American folk music was a great source of inspiration and “seemed closely related to the spirit of all America.”

Gosh, sounds a lot like Joel Chandler Harris who, regarding A.B. Frost’s illustrations of Brer Rabbit and his critter friends, remarked: “We shall then have real American stuff, illustrated in real American style.”  Shame he wasn’t around to hear the soundtrack… embedded in a blog post… on the internet. Really woulda blown his mind.

Related: Henry F. Gilbert: a bio-bibliography by Sherrill V. Martin

This morning Atlanta’s NPR affiliate WABE covered the recent plight of the Herndon Home.

The Herndon Home is the historic home of Alonzo Herndon, the one-time slave who became the first African-American millionaire in Atlanta.  The house doesn’t have much funding, doesn’t offer many tours, and doesn’t employ an executive director at the moment.

Hey, that sounds like the Wren’s Nest in 2006!

I’m happy our neighbor two miles north is getting some press.  A few months back, and the AJC blog Inside Access asked for ideas on how to revitalize the place.  It got one response.  From me.

Surely there are more ideas out there!  Do you have any bright ones for the Herndon Home?  Ever visited the place?

Photo: Johnny Crawford for the AJC