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Flournoy said. “The old gas
pipes slowly leak and gas
accumulates underneath, I’m
surprised there was not more
of a scandal about how dangerous
it was.”
Flournoy’s brother, Cobb
Superior Court Judge Robert
Flournoy III, and their
mother, Pam Flournoy, lived
at different times in the same
house on Forest Avenue.
“It’s a really cute area to walk
around, it’s got a lot of history,”
Flournoy said, recalling another
dramatic incident in the
neighborhood when a man
walked into the late attorney
Richard Powell’s old office in
Forest Hills and shot the place
up.
“It was a divorce case and
the husband came in to shoot
him (Powell) and his soonto
be ex wife,” Flournoy said,
adding that Powell reportedly
framed a bullet hole in the
wall. “He never took another
divorce case.”
Another explosion — this
one the stuff of legends — also
shapes part of the community’s
history.
Dale Covington, whose
family moved from Kentucky
to a red brick house on Vance
Circle in 1938 — the year
he was born — remembers
a story he was told about a
woman who made elderberry
wine using fruit from bushes
growing near her creekside
house in the community.
The wine, stored in bottles
under the woman’s home,
exploded when the property
flooded, Covington said.
“I don’t know the science
behind elderberry wine in
bottles and flooding, but it
created an explosive situation
and those bottles were going
off like cannon shot,” he said.
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
Covington says many of his
childhood summer evenings
in Forest Hills were spent
in games of “kick the can,”
playing around Sope Creek
and trying to avoid smashing
windows while batting balls.
By all accounts, Forest Hills
was a great place to grow up.
“I don’t think we even had a
key outside the door the whole
time we were there,” Hall said.
He recalls walking to the
Square as a child each Saturday
with 50 cents for the
movies and ice cream, as well
as buying bottles of Coca-Cola
for a nickel at the gas station
on the walk home from Marietta
High School.
“It was a place where you
could go and not have to
worry about anybody bothering
you. Back in the day it
was a pretty easygoing town,
the police were real good, they
knew everybody.”
James Southerland, whose
family moved into the old
Hunt house in 1971, says the
fact no one locked their doors
made his job as a newspaper
delivery boy more personal.
“I would just walk into their
home and put the paper on
the table, ring the doorbell and
leave,” he said. “It was a great
place.”
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