The War Between the States had been waged and lost only thirty-five years earlier and was still a fresh and vivid memory. In the gracious homes that lined Peachtree Street and the shanties along Decatur Street still lived the survivors of a conflict that had already taken permanent root in the collective consciousness of the South and flourished. 

Margaret Munnerlyn Mitchell, author of Gone with the Wind,  was born on November 8 of that year, 
the fifth generation of her family to proudly call themselves Atlantans, steeped in the legends of the city and the South.  As a child she spent long, lazy Sunday afternoons "sitting on the bony knees of Confederate veterans and the fat, slick laps of old ladies who had survived the war," listening to tales of relatives who walked fifty miles with their skulls cracked by Yankee bullets, stuffed wrapping paper beneath their corsets to keep warm during the blockade, and sat down to supper with Rebel leaders. And all these tales were told not as epic drama but as ordinary family happenings that could have occured just yesterday. 

When she was six, Margaret herself became a rebel, against going to school. On a blazing hot September day her mother drove her out along the road to Jonesboro, pointing out the ruins of great houses that had fallen during or because of the war, chimneys standing ghostly among the scattered leaves and creeping foilage of the enroaching woods. She also pointed out the proud homes that still stood, testimony to their owners'steely spirit.  She explained that all the people who had once lived in all the houses had believed they had wealth and beauty and good times that would never end. But their world did end. And it would happen again, Margaret's mother warned. And when it did, she had better be prepared."...All that would be left after a world ended would be what you could do with your hands and what you had in your head," not the least of which was an education. 

 

Atlanta Belle

Gone with the Wind is my very favorite all time book....
Long live the Grand Old South....
alas, She is forever, gone with the wind..
~Dixie

Rhett and Scarlett