Tindall Heights: A Story That Doesn’t Sit Right With Me
I’ve been thinking a lot about Tindall Heights lately. Maybe it’s because I found those demolition photos while we were working on the roof of the church right across the street. Or maybe it’s because something about the whole story just doesn’t sit right with me.
Tindall Heights opened in 1940, the first public housing project in Macon specifically built for Black families. Back then, it offered what were considered modern amenities — electricity, water, natural gas — all for just $2.50 a week.And let’s not forget, these buildings were solid. Made from brick and cinder blocks. Built to last.
They did last — for decades.
In fact, the community was so significant, the entire area was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1993. It wasn’t just some run-down project. It was part of Macon's story — a proud, close-knit neighborhood that raised families and produced some pretty incredible people, like soul legend Otis Redding, who spent part of his childhood there.
So tell me, why was it really demolished?
The official story is that by 2016, Tindall Heights was outdated, overcrowded, and lacked modern standards like central air conditioning. But that doesn’t quite add up. Let’s talk about that.
First of all, if it was so overcrowded, why did they tear down 412 units and replace them with just 270? How does reducing the number of available homes solve "overcrowding"? That’s a contradiction if I’ve ever heard one.
And this air conditioning argument? Please. Just a few years before the demolition, they had installed brand new window AC units in each apartment. That was actually more affordable for the residents. Many families on tight budgets could choose to cool the rooms they used the most, instead of struggling to pay to cool an entire unit. It was simple, it worked, and it made sense for the people living there.
But instead, the whole place was cleared out. And you know what sits right across the street? Mercer University.
Yeah. That’s when the story starts to sound real familiar. It reminds me of what happened in Washington, D.C. — remember when the White House used to be across the street from the projects? And then suddenly, those projects weren’t “good enough” to stay there anymore.
They’ll tell you it was about improving housing conditions. They'll say it was about overcrowding or outdated buildings.
But I can’t help but wonder if the real reason was they didn’t want all those Black folks living directly across from Mercer University anymore.
I mean, be real — did the politicians suddenly start caring about people living without central heat and air?
Nope.
The demolition wasn’t about the people. It was about the land. The image. The money.
What they really did was displace hundreds of families from homes that were part of their history, their stability, their community.
This whole thing — it doesn’t sit right with me. And I think we need to keep telling these stories, because if we don’t, they’ll rewrite them like we never lived there. Like those homes, those lives, those communities never mattered.
But they did. They still do.
