In a recent column, I wrote about the impact of basic modes of travel upon transportation, commerce and settlement. Like Native Americans before them, white settlers used streams and adjacent high land paths to penetrate the vast forest lands of southern Georgia.
During the period of Spanish occupation, an overland road called the Kings Road linked outposts at present day Parris Island and Cumberland Island to St. Augustine. A similar but less-traveled road ran southwest to Spanish towns in western Florida, parts of which later became sections of Burkhalter Road.
Early on, streams supported travel by pole boats and timber rafts, but became major channels of commerce with the introduction of steam boats. The Savannah was already settled but became a floating train of cotton with the spread of short staple cotton into the piedmont. Steam boats plied the Altamaha and its tributaries to the fall-line, taking supplies upriver, farm products down and passengers both ways. Some local entrepreneurs established “landings” to accommodate cargo and passengers.
Steam boat service flourished into the 20th century. One sank in the 1920s not far downstream from present-day Highway 152 and local boys used its rails as a diving platform while swimming. On a trip to Macon at age 5, I saw a snag boat used to keep the Ocmulgee channel open. That service continued until after World War II.
However, the coming of railroads to south Geogia in the closing decades of the 19th century brought gradual but revolutionary change to the region. They challenged river boats with which they competed. River traffic was slower and could be affected by water levels. I have heard that railroad trestles over rivers were built low enough that tall boats with cargo could not pass. At any rate, rivers could not be changed at will, but railroads were built to run from one point to another pretty much as builders desired.
Before the coming of railroads, over-land travel was difficult. Certainly, there were roads to ports, especially Savannah, but all had many rivers to cross by ford, ferry and maybe a bridge. It was possible to swim cattle across on the way to market, but fording places for wagons were few and useless in times of high water. The trip by ferry was long, made worse by roads that often were poorly-maintained, as that responsibility was assigned to “upright” citizens by judges but not often monitored.
Many clever people realized that there was money to be made from resources in the back country, particularly its pine trees. Earlier lines linked Savannah with Atlanta, Augusta and coastal cities, but new ventures carried products from the hinterlands to Savannah or other market places. Some of them were short, carrying lumber or naval stores to connections that moved them to Savannah or Atlanta. The longest was the SAM (Savannah-Americus-Montgomery) line, which picked up material from short lines. Any existing town that was not served by a railroad or two could fade into insignificance. Statesboro, which had grown slowly since its founding, had some visionary leaders who brought in railroads and it flourished with sawmills, turpentine distilleries and a firm foundation to host First District A&M School (Georgia Southern University now). Excelsior, with its popular academy, professionals, newspaper and businesses, rivaled Statesboro for a time, but its railroad connection was only surveyed and never completed. The site is distinguishable only by a church and a sign today.
Conversely, wherever railroads went, new towns sprang up around places where coal and water stops were established to serve steam engines. These were the source of dramatic changes that re-drew the map of the region. The impact of the SAM line was greatest perhaps, but shorter lines contributed greatly.
A good example is SAM -- later owned by Seaboard Airlines -- in the area where I grew up. Its coal and water stops became Ohoopee Station (never more than a village), Lyons and Vidalia. It ran far north of the Altamaha, a longtime avenue of wealth and influence. Commerce quickly shifted to Lyons and Vidalia and the old river families moved, too. Seeing opportunity, others also moved in to open stores, cotton gins, fertilizer businesses, sawmills, turpentine distilleries, drummer hotels to accommodate the sales representatives for wholesale businesses in cities. Vidalia had four other railroads. Although detractors claimed that constant noise from trains made it a place where it was impossible to sleep, Vidalia was more prosperous than its neighbors.
There arose a movement to create a new county more in line with the area’s population and closer than the Tattnall County seat, Reidsville. A member of one of the old river families had influence in the state legislature and soon Toombs County was formed from parts of Tattnall, Montgomery and Emanuel. The county seat was Lyons, where the river road families were dominant. They filled most of the county’s elected offices for decades.
Similar changes happened everywhere. Parts of Bulloch and Tattnall formed the bulk of Evans County with the railroad town Claxton as county seat. Hunks of Bulloch, Tattnall and Emanuel were sliced off to create Candler County, with Metter as county seat. The county unit system -- a political tool with which rural Georgia maintained dominance over burgeoning Atlanta until overturned by the Supreme Court -- encouraged the creation of rural counties and greased the process through the legislature. Thus, Georgia has more counties than any other state, some so small and economically-challenged that they struggle to provide basic services.
Federal and state highway systems undermined the vitality of some railroad towns. The interstate system has had even greater impact, witness the diminished tourist traffic on Highway 301 in Statesboro and Highway 1 in Lyons. Change, great or small, is constant and, as the saying goes, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Hyundai is coming, but what if it some time goes? Check with the folks in Detroit.