This story has been updated

On Wednesday Sept. 6, my article about an African American community event’s displacement appeared in an academic blog. By the end of the day, Decatur, Ga., blogger Dan Whisenhunt’s Decaturish.com website published two updates to a feature about the previous weekend’s Decatur Day celebration that appeared one day earlier. Those two updates included reporting about the allegations by Decatur Day participants of racism by Decatur city officials in the decision to relocate Decatur Day from a city park in the Oakhurst neighborhood to a downtown greenspace.

I wonder where Mr. Whisenhunt and his colleagues might have learned about those allegations of racism? The two blog staff persons who attended the event, writer Zoe Seiler and photographer Dean Hesse, didn’t include any reporting about it in the original post-event feature. Neither did Seiler’s tweet the day after Decatur Day.

Seriously, how could Seiler have spent any time at the event and not heard the widespread talk about the perceived racist intent behind the move? She tweeted that she “heard some powerful stories,” yet she apparently missed the most powerful story of them all. And, how could she have spent any time reporting in that community in the weeks and months before the event and not heard about it? Decatur (pop. 24,338) isn’t exactly a sprawling metropolis like its neighbor, Atlanta (pop. 499,127).

One week before Decatur Day, I queried one of the people I interviewed why I, a writer sitting at a desk in Pittsburgh, Pa., could be asking questions about Decatur Day and racism while none of the local press seemed to be. One of the people I interviewed for my article said, “They don’t want us to talk about it. But it’s got to be addressed and it’s got to be known.”

Could the information that led to the Decaturish.com updates have originated with my article? Probably. In fact, I’d bet on it. I could have made a boatload of money betting on the prediction that none of this would appear in local media accounts either in advance of Decatur Day or afterwards. I even anticipated it in my article. Go figure.

Yet, Mr. Whisenhunt — a former newspaper journalist who as a blogger has spent a decade haranguing and harassing metro Atlanta news outlets and national newspapers for failing to give him the credit he thinks that he’s due — didn’t see fit to credit my article in his updates.

It’s not that I want to be mentioned in his blog; I don’t. It’s more about Mr. Whisenhunt’s role as Decatur’s news gatekeeper and his site’s apparent lack of transparency and accountability, two key tenets from the Society for Professional Journalists four-part code of ethics.

It’s almost as if by magic the site decided to add interviews with city officials and Decatur Day planners about the allegations of racism.

For Mr. Whisenhunt, it appears to be ethics for thee but not for me.

Decatur Day 2023

The email that I received 11 days before this year’s annual reunion of Black residents in Decatur, Ga. was troubling: “I just wanted to let you know that the City is trying to get rid of Decatur Day.” I have gotten many similar emails, texts, and phone calls since 2011 when I began documenting gentrification, racism, and erasure in the Atlanta suburb.

Past Decatur Day photo courtesy of a resident who prefers to remain anonymous.

I replied to the email asking for additional information. I also reached out to earlier collaborators in my work, current and former Black Decaturites that I have interviewed. They, in turn, connected me with others who had deep attachments to Decatur Day. Their belief was crystal clear. “People in the neighborhood saying the whites don’t want blacks at the park,” one told me.

The park that my collaborator mentioned is Decatur’s McKoy Park. It is located in the city’s Oakhurst neighborhood, the site of Decatur’s latest displacement phase — one of many stretching back more than a century.

I did multiple telephone interviews in the four days after receiving the initial email. Decatur Day participants sent me photos from past years. The digital editors for the Urban History Association agreed to consider an article on serial displacement, Decatur Day, and contemporary public policy. I completed a 3,500-word draft in two days. One day after submitting it, I received an email from the editors: “Looking forward to running the piece.”

The article, “Decatur Day and the History of Serial Displacement in an Atlanta Suburb,” is now out in The Metropole.

An amusing postscript to the reporting that I did for the UHA article appeared yesterday in a heavily illustrated puff piece published in the Decaturish.com blog. Two people from the blog’s staff attended the Sept. 2 event.

The article’s featured photo shows a man studying a poster mounted on an easel. The poster reads, “Displaced But Not Erased.” It includes three images: two historic newspaper clippings and a photo of a street sign juxtaposed against the Decatur High School football stadium wall.

Decaturish.com screen capture, September 6, 2023.

All of the images originated from my 2020 National Council on Public History virtual walking tour of Decatur’s former ghetto, the Beacon Community: Displaced and Erased: Decatur Walking Tour. Even the language that organizers used in the poster to resist Decatur’s tendencies to erase Black people and Black history derived from the 2020 tour.

Zoe Seiler, who wrote the article, also tweeted a different photo showing the poster. The content in the tweet is more legible than the photo published in the blog, especially the street sign photo.

Zoe Seiler tweet screen capture, Sept. 3, 2023. The photo in the upper right frame shows the Decatur Day poster, “Displaced but not Erased.”
Photo tweeted by Zoe Seiler, Sept. 3, 2023. https://twitter.com/zoemseiler/status/1698400495721669007/photo/2.

I photographed the Robin Street sign on June 11, 2018. The framing was intentional: to tell the story of how Decatur city officials used the high school stadium wall to prevent residents in the adjacent Allen Wilson Terrace apartments from watching the football games. But that context seems to be missing from the story published in the blog.

Robin Street sign and Decatur High School football stadium, June 11, 2018. Photo by David S. Rotenstein.
Displaced and Erased: Decatur Walking Tour screenshot.

I am honored that my work continues to influence people in Decatur. The local blog’s coverage of the event reinforces my assertions that the city and its white residents silence, erase, and whitewash history and current events.

© 2023 D.S. Rotenstein