Southern Siren
Caitlin Mee
Some see preservation as a noble pursuit. Others may view it as a barrier to progress (have you heard the words hysterical society?) But for Caitlin Mee, preservation is a passion.
Wherever she goes, Caitlin dives head-first into the community’s history and happenings, immediately lending her voice and skills to the protection of its architecture and significant stories. From Rose Hill Cemetery to Pleasant Hill, since Caitlin’s arrival in Macon, Georgia, she has advocated for the places that contribute to Macon’s unique character.
As someone rehabbing a historic house, I have leaned on her expertise and loved sharing this journey with someone who genuinely finds joy in the process. Though our conversations cover the gambit, all roads lead back to preservation. Her passion is contagious and I am honored to share a bit of that here with you. Meet Autumn 2021’s Southern Siren, Caitlin Mee.
Rachelle : We met through a shared interest in preservation. Can you explain a little about what first drew you to the field?
Caitlin: The buildings, of course! They’ve been calling to me forever. Even back in California, I remember walking around the historic neighborhoods of my little town, that was a bit run down thinking, “gosh these are so beautiful” and wondering what about them seemed so lovely to me. I think the preservationist came out in me when I had seen what a flipper had done to my childhood home in Marin County, California. My Papa, who dreamt of being an architect but never had money for formal training, designed the house in the 50s and my Granny’s 7 siblings literally helped build it. After my dad sold it, the house had been so altered it was unrecognizable.
I had been studying psychology at the time, behavior modification specifically, as much as I loved it, I loved history more. I was faced with the common historian’s question as to what the heck I’d do with a degree in history. My alma mater, CSU Sacramento, had a program in public history. Through interning at the gold rush archives I was led to researching this thing called historic preservation. The rest is history!
R: What does it mean to you to be a preservationist?
C: This has evolved so much over the years. I expect it will continue to. When I first got into school I wanted to save every scrap of everything. That got emotionally and mentally taxing pretty quickly. It's not sustainable to let your heart bleed for everything, even if you want to. Each building takes a pound of flesh from me.
I believe everyone is a preservationist. There are people who went to school and know the inner workings of how to get it done. But everyone that cares about their community, how it looks, how it feels, feels intrinsically drawn to a place-- is a preservationist. If you love a place like, say Macon, you may not realize it, but it's the buildings and the soul they carry that make you love it. Wanting to keep that alive makes you a preservationist.
R: Why is preservation important? Like, why should my neighbor care about it?
C: Preservation is everything. Unfortunately, the word is only tied to some crazy old lady throwing herself in front of a wrecking ball. They use a bulldozer, not a wrecking ball, most times. Preservation is a piece of affordable housing, economic development, sustainability, city planning, every aspect of our lives involves something that is likely 50 years old or older, or will at some point be 50 years old (which is what the National Park Service considers as “historic”). If you care about how your street looks and feels, how you use your city services, your quality of life depends on if preservation is part of the set of values held by your community.
R: The relationship between preservation and the south is complicated, to say the least. Can you tell me a little bit about how preservation has been used in the south to enflame or marginalize a significant part of our population historically?
C: We’re talkin’ the war between the states, I’m sure. It's hard as a native Californian to confidently speak to this, but I definitely feel some type of way as an adopted Georgian. I try to validate the confederate history of the south. “Yes, Ma’am, I hear you. The war did happen. Your family fought in it. But how do we want people to remember all this?” Historically, the narrative has been largely one sided. African Americans had been forced out of the story when they were the largest part of it! Continuing to shut this narrative down will perpetuate this exclusion. Their stories should not only be included but elevated!
I have seen this shut out even in my own field. None of us are above the depth racism has taken hold in the south and in the country, not even “yankees”. Not even me. As a historian and preservationist in the south I work on getting funding and promoting projects that involve the full story of those formerly enslaved. It's important for me to be intentional. I remind myself, it's not me who needs to be in the picture at the end of the day, it's the people who have been unheard and ignored purposely for centuries! Look at them! Look at this amazing story too! These stories, shotgun shacks, burnt up houses are the only connection some people may have to their family. It's just not written down or documented nearly enough by historians in the south. I don’t know what it's like to grow up Black in America, but I understand, as a child of immigrants, what it's like to struggle to connect with your place here. I hope to stand as an ally in the fight to tell the full story.
R: Can you talk a little bit about how preservation might be applied in situations concerning controversial buildings or monuments? What’s the difference between keeping “Colored Waiting Room” on the Terminal Station in downtown Macon and keeping a Confederate monument at the main corridor to downtown Macon, if there is one?
C: If you take “Colored Waiting Room '' away or hide what was once a colored waiting room or exclude antebellum era homes in a TV show because it's hard for white people to talk about, no one will ever know the full story. This is exactly the exclusion I mentioned before. As historians we look to Germany and how they’ve handled the documentation and interpretation of the Holocaust. They didn’t level the concentration camps. But they also didn’t rebuild them as they were. This is the essence of preservation in place. They’re museums now. I’ve watched documentaries of survivors go back. It's validating. This happened to us. It's hard and ugly. But if you didn’t honor that, you couldn’t appreciate the good work. John Lewis, MLK Jr, Jacob P. Hutchings, all these brave, courageous African American people that risked their lives. If you remove the physical trace of the “why” there is no reason for the beauty that is people unafraid to fight for what's right. They are true Americans.
R: Similarly, we see “preservationists” who have no problem tearing down houses in certain neighborhoods. Can you talk a little bit about blight, what defines it and how it is used strategically?
C: Blight is the term used to refer to a house that is in deteriorated condition. Many times, this is the justification used by the powers that be to systemically tear down houses or even entire neighborhoods in historically Black communities. In these cases, there are often preservationists or even entire preservation organizations that just look the other way. It's short-sighted. As a preservationist, it's easy to get burnt out from hitting wall after wall of “no”. I deal in blight throughout Middle Georgia, often. It's the communities collaborating and being supported by the local government folks willing to think outside the box that are successful. It’s because they always remember why they’re doing it. There’s an architecture firm in Mississippi I have a huge crush on. Mainly, because their company motto is “there’s always a way”. They were kind enough to send me some really nice prints of that phrase I have in my home and work place offices.
I was also once told by someone, “if they [the residents of said neighborhoods] didn’t like the demolitions, wouldn’t they say so?” Would you? Ancestral trauma rooted in being told generation after generation not even your body was yours to own. Lets pause and consider what was thought of historically as acceptable reparations for slavery; 40 acres and a mule. What do those things stand for? Land to own and work. These are symbols of power. Similar to how guns and horses were in the early days of the West. I mean, they hung people for stealing horses. By “people” I mean native Americans.
Think of what happened to these folks if they spoke up against the white majority. You think they feel confident enough to say, “Hey! Stop! This shotgun shack owned by an absentee landlord in Chicago is the only home I’ve ever known. This neighborhood, likewise, full of blight because we’re at the mercy of someone somewhere else making a profit off our backs, is near extinction”. I wouldn’t. Maybe racism is so deeply entwined in our community and within the system, even if I said stop would fall of deaf ears? It's time we as preservationists take a hard look at ourselves and what we call “integrity”.
Freedmen’s Town in Houston Texas is a great example of what happens when a short-sighted locality lets developers eat up historically significant landscapes. The first all African American town in Houston. Thriving. One of the first Juneteenth celebrations was held in Freedmen’s Town. A freeway was run through the prosperous commercial core. Right now the community is fighting to revive what's left. It's on the National Register. That doesn’t save it. Right now the community is fighting to save a shotgun house, 1609 Saulnier. Look it up. I’ll never forget it. 1609 Saulnier is a symbol, too. I refused to release the historic permitting hold on it for a year. I don’t want that for Macon. Macon still has a lot of what makes it special, and Black history is what gives Macon its soul. We have to ask how we want that to live on in our built environment.
R: How can someone like me be a part of the solution?
C: Don’t give up. Keep going. Reach out and get organized. Do you need a sign in front of your face that says “There’s always a way”? Let me know, I’ll get you one. This is the next Civil Rights movement objective, y’all. Housing. The preservation of the historic housing that conveys the history of African Americans that contributed to our community. I mean, look at Little Richard’s house. It's saved. But why? Because they put a freeway through the neighborhood.
We’re fighting to revitalize housing in these neighborhoods. There are tools out there. But it's the leaders and shapers of our community that hold the key. Planners, advocates, city and county governments, local citizen organizations need to sit at a table and have a long hard conversation about what matters to us and what we’re going to do collectively to preserve and promote it. Georgia Initiative for Community Housing, CHIP grants, USDA loans, there's plenty, even outside historic preservation incentives, to rehabilitate these significant places. Educate yourself about these things and don’t be afraid to keep saying them to the people who steer this ship!
And connect with those in your community that are already doing the work. At the very least, follow and share their work with others. In Macon, I love following the work that the Macon-Bibb Enhancement Authority is doing in Pleasant Hill. They are actively recruiting new residents in this historically rich neighborhood that developers have been itching to get their hands on for years. It’s powerful work that is key to the preservation of its history.
R: What preservation projects are you working on now?
C: Aside from restoring my 1917 bungalow to its original glory? I have crazy dreams for preservation here in Macon. Macon is such a unique place in that it has such an amazing historic building stock. I’ve launched my preservation consulting firm, Blue Dog Preservation. I specialize in guiding preservation friendly development, helping folks navigate different preservation processes like Certificates of Appropriateness and finding various funding for projects. I have a background in historic interiors and love partnering with homeowners hoping to live comfortably in their historic homes while honoring and highlighting its original character. I also do historic wood window rehabilitation.
Of course, you and I are always tossing around solid gold as far as fun events and projects to get these fine folks in Macon more engaged with the beauty and splendor that is our historic town.
R: You’ve mentioned to me how preservation tends to be a women-led field, can you share a little bit about that history?
C: Long long ago, in a far away land called Virginia, a bunch of lovely old ladies sensitively developed a permeable road to preservation by saving Mount Vernon, President Washington’s home. It basically set the tone for our field in my book. Jane Jacobs, Virginia Savage McAlester, Jackie Onasis, Brittany V. LaVelle Tulla, Katie Rispoli Keaotami, Lindsey Jones (all living breathing preservation warrior women) to name a few have really led preservation historically and now. Men folk are around. We can’t do it without them. But in a world where most everything is male led, it's kinda saying something that ladies run the show. I’ll close my thoughts on this question with this; It's not about competition it's about collaboration. I cheer for anyone willing to fight the good fight.
R: Who is the primary southern, female voice in your field that has inspired you?
C: Ann Farisee and Georgia State working on the Civil Rights World Heritage Trail, Mary Ellen Higgenbotham the paint, plaster, paper guru of Georgia, Sarah Love, archaeologist and preservationist giving all the damns, Monica Callahan, city planning and preservation queen, cuss girl, you over here promoting small businesses in Middle Georgia and preserving an AMAZING historic home. I can’t name just one. These women are non-stop, thankless, strong, intelligent, well-rounded, inspiring human beings in preservation. Each one I can walk away from and say I hope to be like them in this way when I grow up. “Fierce”, comes to mind.
R: What do you wish people knew about southern womanhood?
C: We appreciate the gentility of southern culture, but we don’t need it. Southern women are the toughest I’ve ever known. To be considered beside them would be a dying dream of mine. My own granny comes from a line of strong courageous southern women. Left Harlan, Kentucky with hopes for better only to be met with the all enveloping horror that was the Dust Bowl of Texas.
I love watching the grace and tact of southern women. So much knowledge and power can be soaked up at the counter of a southern woman’s kitchen, or on a porch swing. People outside the south don’t give southerners credit, let alone us women. Complex, beautiful, smart, wild creatures.
R: Anything I didn’t ask about that you want to share?
C: Give a damn. Give a damn about something, someone, some place.The Southern Sirens before us did. Don’t do them dirty by giving up now. Also, SHOP SMALL, Y’ALL!
Originally from Northern California, Caitlin moved to North Georgia for graduate school. After obtaining her masters in heritage preservation from Georgia State University, Caitlin worked as an architectural historian surveying throughout rural Georgia for proposed transportation projects. Touring these vibrant rural historic towns, particularly in Middle and Southern Georgia, bound her to the beauty and complexities of the South. She currently lives in Macon in blissful bungalove with her 1917 Craftsman Style home. When she isn’t hunting for hidden historic treasures or cat butt glass she is rock climbing and hiking throughout the south with her cattle dog Tallulah. Caitlin loves long walks through historic buildings and gin and tonics from Lazy Susan’s.
Keep up with Caitlin’s preservation adventures on Instagram.