Breaking the Depression Through the Lens

In the early 1980s, my brother graduated from high school and spent a year working for a local moving company while deciding what to do with his life. Our mother insisted that he attend a Christian college, so he looked for a school that would allow him to play baseball, and he eventually settled on Covenant College because our middle sister had discovered it and recommended it to him. Covenant is located on Lookout Mountain, Georgia, just across the state line from Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, where the famous Rock City can be found.

Ironically, during my brother's freshman year, the college closed down its baseball program, but he stayed the course and graduated in 1986 with a dual degree in English and sociology. By then, the youngest of our sisters had joined him and our middle sibling there (I arrived for the senior year of the youngest sister), and we endured many 2,400-mile round trips between Eastern Maine and Chattanooga.

A fascinating feature of our drives to, from, and around Tennessee, particularly, was the presence of red barns with black roofs and the white lettering, "See Rock City." It became an inside joke for us, and we would sometimes count how many times we'd see the message. Other times, we would take the sightings as a hopeful indicator that we were finally approaching the end of our long drives.

Another attraction on Lookout Mountain that had tacky advertisements along the highways was Ruby Falls. "See Ruby Falls" and "See Rock City" were so frequently seen together, that when I discovered that "ruby" falls was simply a waterfall with ruby-colored water shining through it, I assumed that "rock" city must also be some type of sham or scam, so I never bothered to spend money to visit either tourist attraction. After all, I was a poor college student, and I never had "extra" money.

My time on the mountain was from 1988 to 1993, so I did not have the benefit of Google to give me the history of these tourist traps or attractions (you decide). A search today gives an interesting history that suggests Rock City was developed into a positive place by a family trying to survive the Great Depression, and they hired a known painter who would paint barns for farmers in exchange for being allowed to advertise the attraction with those three iconic words on the roof, "See Rock City." Minus the benefit of 21st century social media, the exposure to their simple message as seen in the photo above apparently drove visitors to Rock City by the thousands in the 1930s, and the signs were seen as far away as Michigan and Texas, according to seerockcity.com.

I graduated from Covenant College in 1993 with a degree in history and secondary education, and I promptly moved to Japan to teach English conversation. Seven years later, I was married to a woman from Massachusetts, and we moved to my home state of Maine, where I spent the next ten years as headmaster of a little Christian elementary school. When I left that job, I spent a couple years looking for full time work while subbing at various schools (including a juvenile correctional center).

One morning, after dropping our young boys off at their school, my wife and I went out for breakfast and then took a drive in the Maine countryside. We arrived in the town of Brooks, and to my amazement and delight, I spied the little red barn with black roof and white letters declaring, "See Rock City." I couldn't believe it. I became very excited and pulled the car over. "I have to get a picture of this!" I exclaimed.

"Oh. Okay," she said. "Why?"

Suddenly, my words became jumbled as I tried to explain it to her. "Because these are everywhere in the South. I mean, when I used to drive to Covenant. That is, I mean, we used to see them all the time! They're on the barns and in the fields, and, and..."

She patted me on the hand. "That's okay. Just take your pictures."