Americus, Georgia
I noticed driving down that the whole region felt older and more rooted than most rural areas I have visited in the South. Giant oaks rose up from the flat red earth with a sense of permanence and grandeur. Small towns had impressive stone courthouses, some in better repair than others. Americus may get more than its share of tourists due to the presence of an ex-president and his presidential library; Jimmy Carter lives just down the road in Plains.
We decide to have dinner on the second-story balcony of the Windsor Hotel, looking down on Main Street below. The space fills up while we’re there: guests in rocking chairs and businessmen downing beers at the bar. After our meal, a piece of chocolate cake unexpectedly arrives, complements of the house. The manager, an African-American woman in her early 50s, introduces herself as Ida and asks if we are having a good time. The two of us start to laugh. Both of us are certain we have been honored because we are an integrated table.
Knowing what Americus was like in the 1950s, I had been concerned that we might encounter hostility from the staff and other guests. Instead, we get free dessert. It’s a pleasant gesture — form an interracial friendship and reap society’s rewards — but also a reminder that tables such as ours are the exception, not the rule.
Next day, when I’m not scrubbing and scraping Kurt’s small cinderblock house in preparation for the weekend painting, I try to corner just about everyone I can for an interview. I am already regretting not spending more time here. I daydream about coming back as an intern, somehow persuading Blake to move down with me. I find the community fascinating, as much for its shortcomings as its successes. The place may not be utopia, but it’s still here and apparently still functioning.
For me, one of its most appealing aspects is the childcare arrangement. In addition to marketing work and helping out at the store, Emory watches Kellen and Ida in the mornings and homeschools three older children. This frees up two pairs of parents to work, but it’s a little more flexible than dropping a toddler off at daycare.
“It’s great being able to work and still see my kids during the day,” says Sarah, who has dark hair in dreadlocks and nearly as many tattoos as her husband. “And we believe in raising children in community. They’re not taught to fear strangers.”
She and Brendan live in community housing near the farm store. Inside, I notice a large crucifix in the kitchen, bongo drums, a futon covered in a Celtic tapestry, a crate of vinyl records, Dom DeLillo in the bookshelf, and a complete set of Charlie Chaplin movies.
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When I arrive Sarah is nursing her baby on the couch. Red-headed Ida watches a vintage 1930s-era cartoon on the floor. A few minutes later Sarah heads out the door, leaving both children with Emory.
“We’re organized by teams and each team has a coordinator,” Emory explains. “There’s a Farm Team, there’s a Maintenance Team, there’s a Products Team, there’s an Administration Team… People cross over all the time. We also do All Calls for major projects, where everyone pitches in. Right now a big priority is marketing [of retail catalog products].
“When people come in we have to look at what they have to offer the community and whether we have space. Even though we’re volunteers, we take up housing, we eat lunch, and we do receive a small stipend. Some people who are interested in joining are put on a waiting list until we need someone that has those skills,” she clarifies.
“Koinonia welcomes anybody and everybody to come for a visit. New visitors are invited to stay for up for a period of up to two weeks. They are welcome to participate in the work, or they can just come for a retreat or a sabbatical. I came as a working visitor in the Fall of ’05,” she recalls. “Then I came back in February of ’06 as an intern, the same time as Sarah and Brendan. Ida was the baby then… we rotate through different areas of the farm. When I was an intern I worked in the Outreach Center with seniors and the after-school program. One thing I love here is that they’re so many ways to be involved.”
Emory was born in the mountains of Tennessee and raised in Memphis. She has six children, now grown. “My goal was to be a mother. I always knew that,” she says.
After her marriage ended, she explored cooperative ways of living, researching a number of different communities. She decided to join Koinonia in part because of the possibility that it might someday host a Montessori school and children’s home.
“That’s what got me zinging back,” she says. “I have a background with working in children’s group homes and crisis centers. But there’s a lot of infrastructure and licensing requirements… now we’re looking at it more in the long term.”
Emory attended an Episcopal girls’ school and converted to Catholicism as a teenager. Later, when she moved to Asheville, North Carolina she got involved with Jubilee church, which emphasizes nature and creation spirituality. She now attends Jimmy Carter’s church in Plains, Georgia. Maranatha Baptist Church only has about 40 members, she says, but when the former president teaches a bible study they get a lot of visitors. “He’s a good teacher,” she adds. “He really prepares his lessons.”
An excerpt from Southern Cross, a memoir about Christianity & the American South published in 2024. Reprinted with the author’s permission.
