Blues, haints and bayous: snippets from the Deep South: In at the beginning, at the very end

We are nearing the end of this road trip, and every day has been an eye-opener. Today, our last, no less. This trip we have seen towns in various stages of development: newly built and stagnant where they will likely go no further as the community is made up of second homes, weekenders, and folk aren’t around often enough for forward progress to be maintained or generated. We have seen towns that were vibrant and relevant in another age but that have been bypassed, or overlooked, so have to struggle now to stay alive. We have seen towns that survive solely because of tourists and their stability is fragile: if the economy weakens, so do they. And we have seen old towns really buzzing—with universities and colleges at their hearts, keeping them vibrant and healthy.

We had not seen the birth of a town—until today. We were driving along merrily, with a little time on our hands which is rare, as we had done all our last minute housekeeping right down to shampooing the car and vacuuming it in preparation for dropping it off. We’d had a brilliant coffee— easier to find closer to Atlanta, and visited a couple of tiny historic railway villages, one of them staying alive by giving its village a paint job, and allowing itself be used as a movie set. Which seems to be working, as most of its characterful shops are occupied and even though it is tiny it looks a well kept gem.

We even had fresh crisp haircuts—which was interesting, but also terribly sad, so a pause here, too. Our hair was cut by a Cambodian, but her husband, who was managing the salon today, had been a refugee after the Pol Pot horrors. He told us his life story. He and his parents were shoved into a Khmer Rouge death camp during the regime. Pol Pot had Cambodia in chaos as he attempted to engineer an uprising of the peasant class against the intellectuals and the wealthy. Somewhat like the French Revolution in intent. Both his parents ended up dying of starvation in one of Pol Pot’s notorious camps. They, along with 1.5 million others. He survived. He has no photographs of his mum and dad. And none of himself as a young child. All that was lost. He was all of ten when it stopped. It took him 2 1/2 years to gain the appropriate status to come as a refugee to America, but since that happened he has not looked back, he said. Today, he is a happy, healthy Asian-American, with a lovely wife and two brilliant kids. But he remembers everything, as if it were yesterday. He tries very hard, though, not to let it colour his life. On we went. Saddened, certainly, but so very hopeful for him. He is doing so well.

As we drove on a quiet road we suddenly saw a big expensive development sign and road entrance, like those we are seeing these days on the outskirts of Brisbane, where whole suburbs seem to mushroom overnight, almost. For no reason, other than we had scads of time, we did a quick U-turn, and took the brand new road into the development to peek at what we thought might be a new housing subdivision.

It was anything but. Around a bend we saw a massive building works ongoing to our left with heavy machinery breaking ground and other machines levelling it. Acres of new development starting. We have no idea what, exactly. We then drove further on to find what looked, to us, like a massive space station on one side and an ultra modern sweeping structure that might have fit two opera houses, on the other. The sign on the space station which took up about three city blocks said Baxalta. The sign on the opera house said it was a Georgia Bioscience Training Centre. We were none the wiser. We, then, cheekily drove over to the Baxalta site which was barred by a Security guard at a secured gatehouse and asked lots of questions.

This site, she told us, is a result of a spin-off from Baxter Pharmaceuticals who are a global company with complexes like this all over the world. This site is new, purpose-built and focussed. It is called Baxalta, and is focussing on researching and treating the problems of blood disorders, including haemophilia, cancers and immune deficiencies. It has been in the building phase for two years now, and expects to be formally opened around 2018. It is costing billions. The Training Centre to the side was built in conjunction with the state of Georgia. And is expected to dramatically boost training in the bio-sciences in the state. And Baxalta will only benefit from that.

So, this site will eventually be the heart of something that will end up, very quickly, becoming a city of science occupying these currently vacant fields. Already developers have billboards out front saying the name of a new development will be Stanton Springs. The sign promises big growth: residential, office, commercial, distribution, industrial. Change will quickly spill into the surrounding sleepy villages. Already, the Baxalta planners and developers have bought up available homes and acreages around the local communities, reviving them. New homes, further on, have already been built too.

The villages surrounding are on the move, reviving, thriving. The ripple effect of all this construction will create an untold number of jobs, as well as new university courses, new related technologies, new industries forming. Right here. About 35 miles south east of Atlanta. Essentially a new city will form.

And we are reminded of Athens, just yesterday, where the university came first and the students and townsfolk and development followed. Successfully. This is similar. Yet, this time, we are here at the birth of it all.