Atlanta And Its Builders, Vol. 1 - A Comprehensive History Of The Gate City Of The South. Thomas H. Martin
clearing his ridge farm in sublime indifference to the official survey and apparently without suspecting that a fortune was within his grasp. A few curious or captious politicians rode over his and adjacent land and went away shaking their heads. The Cherokee Nation boomers ran over it on their way to the latest El Dorado. It seems to have occurred to nobody to possess themselves of a few acres and quietly await the coming of the railroad. It is likely that few had faith in the road ever being built. Singular as it may seem now, a decided prejudice existed in the popular mind against railroads. They were regarded by many as anything but a desirable acquisition to a town, for the reason that they built up near-by competing trading points. The long-haul wagon traffic was a great thing in those days, and the town lucky enough to be the commercial Mecca of the white-topped caravans was exceedingly jealous of having its supremacy disputed by an upstart railroad station in the vicinity. Decatur was bitterly opposed to the new railroads coming to that flourishing wagon trade town, and if they must come, Mr. Long's paper metropolis was welcome to them. DeKalb's flourishing little courthouse town actually petitioned against the granting of a right of way through its corporate limits to the Georgia railroad, and by its determined opposition forced that road to run its track at some distance. This feeling prevailed in most of the interior towns of the state. The possibilities of development opened by the iron horse were appreciated by few, and it is to be doubted if the Macon convention represented the majority sentiment of the people. In that, as in most progressive movements, a handful of far-seeing, daring spirits, took the initiative while the great mass of citizens were either ignorant of their purpose or apathetic. Agitation was more apt to provoke a dangerous hostility than a favorable sentiment, and the general assembly had been none too soon in pushing its railroad measures to a vote. Generally speaking, the railroad was regarded as an innovation of questionable benefit or of positive detriment to the community. The logic back of the opposition to labor-saving machinery on the part of manual workers was advanced by this non-progressive element in opposition to the coming of the iron horse. In those days, each community lived to itself and was much more co-operative than since mechanical progress made possible the universal interchange of commodities. Every town had its skilled independent mechanics and small proprietors to supply the commercial needs of the inhabitants. Wearing apparel, household articles and farm supplies were largely manufactured in a crude way by local ingenuity and labor, and an industrial condition that built up great, urban working hives for the production and distribution of the things that went to supply human convenience and necessity was naturally regarded with suspicion. The railroads changed the thrifty independence of many of the flourishing country towns of half a century or more ago to a condition of comparative unimportance, insufficient self-support and dependence. The "old fogies" had wit enough to foresee this, and hence their seeming lack of enterprise. The most vociferous Othello of the time who feared his occupation would be gone was the teamster or wagoner who profited by the growing traffic as population increased. The men directly connected with or employed by the wagon trade were numerically strong and had much to do with exciting a bitter hostility to railroads. In not a few counties of Georgia this influential retrogressive element made their representative in the legislature pledge himself to oppose railroad legislation. In the vicinity of Atlanta there were men who made threats against the railroad property, and pioneer citizens residing in our midst recall the protestations of neighbors that they would never ride on the cars if they did come.
The Cherokee reservation settled up, and still Hardy Ivy was the only denizen of the embryonic city. But the State road was slowly creeping Atlantaward from the west, and as it approached Marietta, interest in the eastern terminus seems to have been revived to the extent of inducing one more settler to cast his lot on the future townsite. This man was John Thrasher, who had not located there for agricultural purposes. He had an eye to the near future and erected a combination house and storeroom. This was in 1839. Mr. Thrasher put a few staple goods on his shelves and sat down to wait for customers. He took a partner named Johnson, the firm name being Johnson & Thrasher. Business was slow and the visits of customers few and far between. The store did not enjoy the advantages of a well located crossroads general mercantile establishment, for it was out of the way and settlers living to the west of Terminus, as the place was beginning to be called, half in derision, as a rule continued to go to Decatur to trade. From the coming of John Thrasher, who was familiarly known to the few settlers of the vicinity as "Cousin John," until the coming of the railroad laborers to grade through the hamlet preparatory to laying the track, the dwellings in Terminus did not number over half a dozen, and these did not make the original Ivy cabin look humble in comparison. The early chronicles speak of Thrasher and an old woman and her daughter as the only residents of the place in the latter part of 1839. The railroad gang put in their appearance in the summer of 1842, and in June of the same year Willis Carlisle arrived and opened a store on what was afterward Marietta street, near the present location of the First Presbyterian church. Notwithstanding the graders were on the ground and the Chattahoochee already bridged, Thrasher moved to Griffin, declaring that Terminus was no good for trade and would never make anything with Decatur so close. At this time, the population of Terminus was less than thirty, and the country round about was sparsely settled.
Still, it cannot be denied that things began to look up in Terminus after dirt began to fly on the State road. The chief engineer had erected, not far from where the present car shed stands, a frame house, and two stories high at that, for the use of the officers of the road. For a year or two this unpretentious little building was regarded with great admiration by the citizens of the hamlet as the forerunner of valuable improvements. Men later distinguished as railroad magnates or public officers worked in this building as employees of the State railroad, among them Chief Justice Logan E. Bleckley, who years afterward served with distinction on the supreme bench of the state. Jonathan Norcross, the first mayor of the infant city, slept in this historic building the first night he spent in the place. The structure, showing sadly the effect of time, can be seen today standing on Peters street, facing the side of Trinity church. It is one of Atlanta's most precious heirlooms of the past, and yet not one in a thousand of the city's inhabitants know of its location or historic associations. Another important event of the latter half of 1842 was the birth of the first infant in Terminus. The little one, a girl, was the daughter of the new merchant, Willis Carlisle. She grew to womanhood in Atlanta and became the wife of the well-known iron founder, W. S. Withers.
The leaves of the forest trees amid which the cabins of the little hamlet clustered had turned yellow, brown, and fallen, when the graders had completed their task and the iron bands bound Terminus to Marietta. This work was done with the help of a locomotive, and after the track was in shape to receive one, the officers of the road prepared to have an engine brought across the country from Madison, a distance of sixty miles. The task was not an easy one, requiring an immense six-wheel wagon constructed for the purpose, and the propelling force of sixteen able-bodied Georgia mules. The work of hauling the locomotive over the rough roads consumed several days, but was attended by no accident. Its arrival was made the occasion for a gala day by the citizens of Terminus and the hundred or more railroaders in their midst. It must be borne in mind that thousands of people in northwest Georgia had yet to see their first steam engine, to appreciate the full magnitude of this grand celebration. For days before the arrival of the locomotive long strings of farm wagons had been moving up the hills that led to Terminus, some of the occupants having come extremely long distances to see the marvel of the century. Hundreds of Cherokee settlers were in the crowd and DeKalb and adjoining counties were almost depopulated to swell the sea of humanity gathered in the ambitious little burg. It is said that every man, woman, child, negro and dog in Decatur came over to see the mechanical monster run. It was equal to the biggest kind of a county fair. The stores and refreshment stands drove a thriving trade for several days, and after the curiosity of the crowd had been appeased, Terminus found that her population had been nearly doubled on the strength of the opening of the railroad to traffic. The locomotive, attached to a box car, made its first trip to Marietta on the 24th of December, pulling away from Terminus under a full head of steam amid the deafening cheers of the assembled multitude, many of the more exuberant discharging their fire-arms in their enthusiasm.
With the opening of the State road Terminus became a fairly good trading point, though there was no sudden boom and no realty holder became rich by quick transfers. The town moved on in humdrum country fashion, the merchants finding plenty of time to whittle goods boxes and swap yarns with their leisurely