The following lyrics are from a song called Old Home Place written by The Dillards, a 1960s bluegrass band:
What have they done to the old home place?
Why did they tear it down?
And why did I leave the plow in the field
And look for a job in the town?

An overgrown home place, a common sight in rural Georgia.
In Georgia, the decaying remains of the homeplace are a common sight from the state’s two lane country roads. Their solemn presence has sparked the interest of laypeople and scholars alike. Nearly everyone is curious about spooky ruins, afterall. Each homeplace has a unique story since its beginning and end are tied to the idiosyncracies of a single (albeit usually extended) family. Interestingly, the family histories seem to have a few things in common based on the general age, condition, siting, and contemporary use of the structure and the surrounding property. First, a definition:
homeplace (plural homeplaces)
-noun
The part of a piece of land on which a home is built; a person’s birthplace or family home
-origin
1730–40, Americanism; “home” + “place”
In early April, friends I was visiting in Louisville took me on a Saturday morning drive through Glascock County. Their aim was to show me some of the state’s finest examples of historic rural-residential decay. Why you ask? Well, first, the homeplace typology – as a way to explain a lot of things about the region, economy, climate, and patterns of social change – seemed a good fit for the travel fellowship project I am doing. Second, it involved a country drive, a past time my friends Helen and Kathleen often enjoy on their own. So we were off.

The county is small, with only 2771 residents and four small towns.
The typical homeplace ruin is wooden frame construction built around the turn of the century. The facade might be embellished with Victorian detailing – cornice, eaves, shutters, etc. Others are simple A-frames with a modest sitting porch. Two positions in the landscape are most common: One, as seen above, the structure is enveloped in layers of strangling vines, the roof line silhouette the only indication of order, sagging windows and buckling walls, open windows that welcome vegetation to pull the place apart from the inside. Two, as seen below, the structure is more or less preserved and well-displayed. Absent of tangling vegetation, they often have boarded up front doors and windows, though appear to receive some degree of upkeep (someone mows around the base of the structure every few weeks, yard furniture, etc.).

On the same family property, prefab dwellings contrast with a traditional homeplace in Glascock County, GA.
Inevitably, as time passes family structure changes. Jobs change. Technology begins to alter the landscape. Even the weather patterns seem a little different. It is of little surprise the old family homeplace is not immune to the passage of time. The structure succumbs to weathering. Soon, repairs overwhelm what remains of the family. Like other rural areas, more and more young Glascockians have left the county for higher education or eastward to Augusta for salaried jobs. The few that remain struggle to reconcile the future of their family assets.
Because it makes little sense to keep putting money into a crumbling relic, the family moves on as well. They don’t move far, however. A prefabricated home, within the purchasing power of the younger descendants, is delivered and set up a few hundred feet away from the old homeplace.
The original homeplace, now abandoned and perhaps boarded up, remains as important symbol in Georgia’s rural landscape. It’s a vestige of a bygone era of building tradition as well as the vessel of family memories. In many ways, it is as though every established clan in rural Georgia erected their own personal family history museum! As you can imagine the nearby mobile home begs the question of permanence. How much longer will the family remain here? If the old homeplace lasted for 110+ years, how long will the mobile home be around? 20-25 years? 30 (at best)? Do the remaining family members conceive the mobile home as an equal replacement to the structure built by their (great) grandparents? When the day comes to abandon their newest home, will it be preserved and displayed like the old homeplace? Left to the ravage of the vines? Or simply carted away and replaced with another outright?

The old homeplace porch appears to remain in use, with an aging mobile unit in the background.