Please Join us for the 2025 Lillian Smith Book Award Ceremony, September 30, 2025

 

The Georgia Center for the Book  

DeKalb Public Library

215 Sycamore Street

Decatur, Georgia 30030

View map

Tuesday, September 30, 2025

• Doors Open: 6:30 pm
• Start Time: 7:00 pm
• End Time: 8:00 pm 

Good-Bye to 2024!

Iberia, Summer 2024

Gaudi Houses

 

Salamanca

 

On the Waterfront at Sitges

La Pedrera and Environs

Douro Valley and Mateus Castle

Locks Along the Douro

 

Porto from the Douro

 

Stops Along the Douro

 

Coimbra

 

Stroll around Downtown Lisbon

 

Stroll around Bario Alto

 

Coastal Excursion from Lisbon

 

Taking in the Sights of Sintra

 

 Stroll Around Downtown Sintra

Peru, February 2024

Stroll around Downtown Lima

Andean Foothills 

Stroll Around Downtown Cusco

Pre-Inca Museum

 

Excursion to  Sacsayhuamán

 

Cusco from the Surrounding Hills

 

 Andean Village and Salt Flats

 

Awaiting the Train to Machu Picchu

Visit to Machu Picchu

 

Stroll around Historic Lima

Puerto Vallarta, January 2024

Morning Stroll Along the Malecon

 

Cruise to Yelapa

 

Celebrating Karen's Birthday

 

 Karen's Birthday Dinner

Andalusian Spring 2023

Good Bye to 2023!

Good-Bye to 2022!

Looking back over the highlights of 2022 (some of which are captured in this video) we now realize that, although we may have spent our time a little differently, we never really slowed down. We are thankful for the opportunity to keep up the pace. Here's wishing everyone the best in 2023!

 

 

After a Lifetime Together, Coronavirus Takes Them Both

Excerpted from an article published in The New York Times

Dr. Delutha King Jr. and Lois King had their own narrative, 60 years in the making and winding from the South Side of Chicago to Tuskegee, Ala., and then Atlanta, with excursions to South Africa and South America. But it ended just as the Lenders’ did.

Dr. King died in early April at the age of 96 and was buried on April 10. An hour after the graveside service, the couple’s son, Ron Loving, heard his phone ring.

The call came from Arbor Terrace at Cascade, the assisted living residence facility in Atlanta that Mr. Loving, 77, had moved his parents into last summer: His mother had died, too.

“For her to pass the day we lay my granddaddy to rest,” said their granddaughter, Kristie Taylor, “it was like, ‘Wow, you two really were inseparable.’”

The Kings both tested positive for Covid-19.

Lois and Dee, as Dr. King was known to friends, met in 1960 at a cocktail party in Chicago. She was 36, a dental hygienist and divorced mother raised on a corn and tobacco farm in Ahoskie, N.C. He was a World War II veteran who attended college and medical school after the war, and had just completed a residency in surgical urology at Howard University College of Medicine in Washington.

They were married within six months, and he quickly became a surrogate father, and then just a father, to Mr. Loving.

The family moved to Tuskegee, Ala., where Dr. King worked at a V.A. hospital, and then to Atlanta, where Dr. King began building a medical practice in 1966.

Mrs. King delighted in being a doctor’s wife, having supper on the table when he arrived home, playing bridge and raising money for organizations they both cared about, like the Sickle Cell Foundation of Georgia, which Dr. King helped found.

At night they would watch “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson,” sitting in the built-in recliners at either end of their couch and reaching their arms toward the middle, over the newspapers they had been reading, to hold hands.

They visited Barbados and Venezuela, traveled through the Panama Canal, and took a cruise through Europe with their best friends, Dr. Clinton E. Warner Jr. and Sally Warner. In the mid-90s, after Nelson Mandela was elected president of South Africa, the two couples traveled there to take part in the historic moment. The trip ended with a safari.

Dee, who had majored in zoology as an undergraduate at Case Western Reserve University, loved the excursion. Lois, who longed for air-conditioning, tolerated it.

“She was very opinionated,” said Mrs. Warner, 73. “If Lois thought something, she would say it. If Dee thought something, he would think about it long and hard.”

The Kings were part of Atlanta’s African-American professional elite. Their social circle included Andrew Young, the former mayor and ambassador to the United Nations. They celebrated the new year at the home of Billye and Hank Aaron, the Hall of Fame baseball player and executive, who helped Dr. King raise money to fight sickle-cell anemia.

The Kings’ son, Mr. Loving, an Army veteran and former Atlanta police officer who had a long second career as a news cameraman for WXIA in Atlanta, revered his parents.

His wife, Freda Loving, remembers that when she and Ron began to date seriously in 2012, he told her, “I want us to be like my mom and dad.”

As the Kings slipped into old age, Lois developed dementia and Dee had Parkinson’s disease. Their son visited them daily and arranged for visiting nursing aides, so that his parents could keep living in their house for as long as possible.

But by last year, it was clear that it was no longer safe for them to live independently. That’s when they moved into Arbor Terrace. “They were still going to be together, that was the important thing.” Mr. Loving said.

When you are 77 and your parents are 96, Mr. Loving said, you know that their deaths will come. But to lose them in such rapid succession, and have the virus deny him the chance to comfort them at the end or give them proper funerals to celebrate their lives,  particularly his father’s career and civil rights achievements — he found that hard to cope with.

“This has been devastating,” Mr. Loving said.

Zenith Award for Political Action: Georgia Association of Black Women Attorneys

Bar Leaders Work for a More Representative and Accountable Judiciary.

By Katheryn Hayes Tucker

Daily Report

November 9, 2016

 

 

 

As leaders of the state's largest African-American lawyers' groups, Holland & Knight partner Charles Johnson III and AT&T in-house counsel Suzanne Ockleberry have been working for decades to increase diversity in judicial elections and appointments. But a few years ago, they began to see crucial gains being lost. African-American judges in Atlanta and other cities were retiring and being replaced with whites. Some cities had never had an African-American judge.

 

They started Advocacy for Action in 2013. This year, they've begun to reverse the trend with elections and appointments of diverse judges in different courts around the state.

 

Johnson, former president of the Gate City Bar Association, and Ockleberry, former president of the Georgia Association of Black Women Attorneys, brought luminaries from both groups together to take action. Their first step was to talk.

 

They put their concerns and their case into a letter—four pages single spaced—which the Daily Report published in 2012. They gave it the headline: "Will the last African-American judge please turn out the lights?"

 

They called it a crisis that fed on silence and apathy. "The idea that the judiciary should reflect the best and brightest legal minds, regardless of race, will be a quaint bygone idea," they wrote. They quoted Frederick Douglass: "Power concedes nothing without a demand."

 

They issued a call to action. "The question we must ask is what can we do, personally and as a community. The answer is we must speak."

 

And speak they did—to community groups, continuing legal education events, panel discussions and on social media. They made their research and statistics available on their own website. They began a targeted campaign to make people aware of the importance of electing representative judges. They recorded videos and posted them on YouTube. They encouraged sitting judges to stay in office long enough to open their seats in an election, rather than allowing a governor to appoint a replacement. In some instances, they targeted incumbents with opposition for re-election. They helped fund campaigns through a political action committee and a private corporation that could accept anonymous donations. They learned that plenty of lawyers would gladly give up the tax deduction in exchange for not having to publicly oppose a sitting judge. They recruited qualified minority lawyers to seek judicial office either through election or appointment. And they communicated with decision-makers to ensure that qualified diverse candidates were included in consideration for appointments.

 

The process has not been easy. Last year, lawyers involved with the group sued Gov. Nathan Deal to block his naming of three white judges to fill three new positions on the Georgia Court of Appeals. They lost. But they made their point nonetheless. This year, the governor named an African-American judge to that court.

 

Last year, the group successfully lobbied the Cobb County Superior Court for the appointment of an African-American woman as chief magistrate judge. They backed an African-American woman appointed by the governor to fill an open seat in Macon. And in this year's elections, Fulton County Superior Court gained its first new African-American judges in many years.

 

They measure their success in tiny increments.

 

"Every once in a while, I think we are heard," said Johnson. "There is some heightened awareness of the importance of voting, and of becoming informed about candidates. There is less of a tendency to ignore these races. We've had something to do with that."

 

This work is not part of their day jobs, Ockleberry noted. "We do this because we believe in our heart of hearts in the mission of this organization," she said. "A more representative and accountable judiciary is what we're seeking."

Georgia Can Honor Dr. King's Legacy with a Simple Change to its Tax Code

By Charles S. Johnson

Originally Published March 31, 2018

Much attention is currently focused on the events which occurred fifty years ago, the last year in the life of Dr. of Martin Luther King, Jr. In the course of this year’s many commemorations, too little attention is focused on the causes to which he devoted his final year. There is a tendency to forget that, at the end of his life, Dr. King’s central message concerned the need for economic justice.

The rapid economic expansion which the United States experienced in the 1960s was not shared by all Americans. Throughout that decade, despite the gains brought about by the Civil Rights Movement, the rate of poverty among African-Americans remained at three times the rate experienced by white Americans.

By 1967, Dr. King had concluded that the Movement’s focus should expand from an emphasis on civil rights to a broader emphasis on human rights: that African Americans and other disinherited citizens would never achieve full citizenship until they attained economic security and, accordingly, that something must be done to focus the nation’s attention on the problems of poverty and economic inequality. 

Toward the end of 1967, Dr. King announced his intention to lead a Poor People’s Campaign the following year.  His plan was for thousands of poor people of all races and backgrounds to descend on the nation’s capital, to demand that government officials address the needs of the nation’s poor.

Dr. King spent the early months of 1968 traveling around the country, generating support for the Poor People’s Campaign. To illustrate the plight of the working poor, he embraced the struggle of the sanitation workers in the City of Memphis who were currently striking to demand better pay and working conditions.

The central demands of the Poor People’s Campaign were summarized in an “Economic Bill of Rights,” notably including the right to a meaningful job with a livable wage. In this most prosperous nation on earth, participants in the Poor People’s Campaign called on the nation to embrace a guaranteed annual income.

In the weeks following Dr. King’s death, a Committee of 100 began meeting with members of Congress and leaders of executive agencies to lobby for the Campaign’s demands.  By May, thousands of the nation’s poor had begun to assemble in an encampment on the National Mall referred to as Resurrection City, and they began a series of demonstrations in support of the Economic Bill of Rights. 

By the end of June, the inhabitants of Resurrection City had been evicted. Many of them continued to lobby for changes in federal policy, with modest results. Others went on to demonstrate at the Democratic and Republican conventions later that summer.

But the idea of supplementing the income of the nation’s poor, so prominently featured in the Economic Bill of Rights, did not die with the evacuation of Resurrection City. In one form or another, the idea continued to be discussed among policymakers at the highest level.

The year 1968 culminated with the election of President Richard Nixon and a renewed emphasis on economic approaches that were seen as conservative.  While many conservative leaders recoiled at the idea of subsidizing the idle poor, many of them began to embrace the idea of finding a way to assist the working poor.  A major concern arose as to the best way to encourage poor people to enter and remain in the workforce and thus reduce the number of families needing what was then referred to as Aid to Families with Dependent Children (“AFDC”). Some policymakers began to entertain the idea of a negative income tax, under which people with low incomes would receive money back from the government instead of paying taxes to the government.

Conservative economist Milton Friedman had proposed a negative income tax as a replacement for traditional welfare: giving to poor people cash which they could use as they saw fit, rather than giving them an array of welfare benefits. Friedman believed that such an approach would introduce a new level of simplicity, since it would be administered centrally by the IRS instead of many different organizations. Friedman’s approach included the introduction of new lower but graduated tax rates, such that taxpayers would lose benefits as their income rose, but they would always come out ahead with a higher earned income.

In 1971 President Nixon proposed a “Family Assistance Plan” welfare reform program including a negative income tax, guaranteeing money to families with children, with assistance payments declining as a function of earnings. Although Congress declined to adopt this measure, policymakers continued to experiment with a variety of tax-driven approaches to income maintenance.  Senator Russell Long proposed a “work bonus” plan to supplement the wages of poor workers.

 
The Tax Reduction Act of 1975 introduced a “work bonus” plan but renamed it the Earned Income Tax Credit (“EITC), a temporary refundable tax credit for lower-income workers to offset the Social Security payroll tax and rising food costs. The EITC was made permanent in the Revenue Act of 1978.

The EITC is now seen by many as both an anti-poverty program and an alternative to welfare, because it incentivizes work. President Reagan described it as “the best anti-poverty, the best pro-family, the best job creation measure to come out of Congress.”

Recognizing that state and local taxes continue to disproportionately burden individuals with low and moderate income, twenty-nine states and the District of Columbia have adopted some form of EITC, generally by matching the federal credit. These state credits provide a modest yet critical boost for taxpayers who already receive the federal EITC. State EITCs are typically claimed as a percentage of the federal credit’s value, ranging from a low of 3 percent in Montana to a high of 40 percent in Washington, D.C. Hawaii, Montana and South Carolina each enacted new EITCs in 2017.

The concept of an EITC has much in common with the proposals advanced by Dr. King in the last year of his life.  In fact, the EITC improves on Dr. King’s proposal of a guaranteed annual income by directly encouraging workforce participation. Georgia, the home of Martin Luther King, is among the states that do not provide a state match to the federal EITC. By enacting its own EITC, Georgia can provide much-needed support for working families while honoring the legacy of one its prominent native sons.

Georgia's Quest for a More Representative Judiciary

Charles S. Johnson: Profile

Charles S. Johnson, a seasoned trial lawyer, currently practices in the areas of health law, higher education law, dispute resolution, and public policy.

Following his graduation from Boston College Law School, where he was a member of the Law Review and a recipient of the Law School’s O’Keefe Award,  Mr. Johnson began his legal career as an antitrust lawyer.  His antitrust practice has included service as principal Georgia antitrust counsel for a major automobile manufacturer and as coordinating antitrust counsel for a national insurance rating organization.  He also served as Adjunct Professor of Antitrust Law at the University of Georgia.  His litigation practice eventually expanded to include health policy litigation, education policy litigation, tax litigation, employment litigation, securities litigation, civil RICO and qui tam litigation, eminent domain litigation, zoning litigation, and litigation of commercial disputes. He currently serves as a member of the Commercial Dispute Resolution Panel for the American Arbitration Association.

Mr. Johnson’s public policy practice has included counseling, regulatory and legislative advocacy, and litigation.  He participated in the creation of Zoo Atlanta, the Countywide Library System for Fulton County, and Georgia’s first tax allocation districts.  He advised Morehouse College in securing the Martin Luther King, Jr. Collection.  He has litigated questions related to the regulatory authority of Georgia’s Commissioner of Insurance and the Georgia Department of Community Health, the taxing power of local school districts, and the enforcement of the Clean Air Act.  His litigated cases have made it possible to vigorously enforce the federal Fair Housing Act, and they have also made it possible for the courts to consider quality of education when fashioning a remedy for school segregation.

Mr. Johnson is Immediate Past Chair of the Board of the Georgia Budget & Policy Institute and the Sickle Cell Foundation of Georgia, President of the Southern Regional Council, Vice Chairman of the Penn Center, and a member of the Board of Trustees of Bard College (his Alma Mater). He previously chaired the Board of Trustees of Leadership Atlanta, the ABA Committee on Insurance Regulation, the Atlanta Judicial Commission, the Atlanta Urban League, the Atlanta Exchange and the Atlanta Region Open Housing Coalition.  He also served as President of the Atlanta Legal Aid Society and the Gate City Bar Association and Co-Convenor of Advocacy for Action.  He formerly served as Vice President of the National Bar Association and as a member of the Board of the Atlanta Bar Association, the Theatrical Outfit, the Atlanta Branch NAACP, the Atlanta Council of Younger Lawyers, the Atlanta Business League, the Metropolitan Atlanta Red Cross, the Alliance Theater/Alliance Children's Theater, Jomandi Productions, the Southern Christian Home for Children, Techwood Park, Inc., and the Young Democrats of Georgia. 

Mr. Johnson has been named as one of Ten Outstanding Young People in Atlanta and one of the Best Lawyers in America.  Atlanta Magazine has recognized him as one of Atlanta's “Powers to Be” and one of Georgia’s Super Lawyers, and the King Center has recognized him with its Martin Luther King, Jr. Peace and Justice Award.  He has been inducted into the National Bar Association Hall of Fame and the Gate City Bar Association Hall of Fame. He is a recipient of the Randolph Thrower Lifetime Achievement from the State Bar of Georgia Committee to Promote Inclusion in the Profession, and the Zenith Award for Political Action from the Georgia Association of Black Women Attorneys.

A Proud Tradition

Commencement Address

To the Graduating Class of

Bard Early College Cleveland

June 5, 2018

By Charles S. Johnson

I want to extend my congratulations to the members of the class of 2018 for all of the hard work, dedication and sacrifice that brought you to this point, and to all of the institutional partners, the parents, family members, mentors and teachers who traveled with you along this journey.

Whether you know it or not, you carry on a proud tradition of extremely talented young people who stood out from their peers.

I have had the opportunity to know and work with some of your predecessors.

During the second World War, Morehouse College announced that it would accept any high school junior who could pass its entrance exam. As a young person I spent time working with an individual who rose to this challenge. After skipping the ninth and twelfth grades, this person graduated from high school, passed the entrance exam and entered Morehouse at the age of 15. This individual, Martin Luther King, Jr., went on to finish Morehouse, Crozier Seminary, Boston University, and played a major role in changing the society into which people of my generation were born.

As a young lawyer I spent time working with an individual who entered Dillard University at the age of 15 during the height of the Korean War, and he graduated from Howard University at the age of 19. This individual, Andrew Young, went on to become the first African American elected to Congress from the South since Reconstruction, to become the United States Ambassador to the United Nations, to become Mayor of Atlanta, and to play a key role in bringing the Centennial Olympic Games to Atlanta.

I worked with another individual who entered Morehouse College at the tail end of the Korean War and graduated from Morehouse at the age of 18. This individual, Maynard Jackson, not only went on to become Atlanta’s first African-American Mayor, but he fundamentally transformed the civic and economic life of the City.

We have come to expect great things from people like these who challenge themselves at an early age.

Let me tell you about the an experience that is very close to me.

My first home was on the campus of Fisk University. Two years after I was born, Fisk lost 100 of its students who were drafted to fight in the Korean War. Three years after I was born, Fisk lost another 240 students to this same Korean War-era draft. The wartime emergency resulted in an enrollment crisis for the university.

Some say it’s not a coincidence - perhaps it's a case of necessity being the mother of invention - but, with the generous support of the Ford Foundation, Fisk in 1950 initiated a basic college early entry program. The idea of the program was to seek out a few exceptional high school students at the junior and senior levels, take them out of unfriendly and unsupportive high schools, and allow them to proceed at an accelerated pace toward a bachelor’s or master’s degree on the Fisk campus.

The program was founded on the principle of individual ability and preparation - the notion that, when a number of alert and quick minds are brought together, the whole group can reach a higher level of interest and achievement. After the second or third year in the program these early entry students were integrated into the junior year of college.

Although on the same campus as the rest of the students, Fisk’s early entry students were set apart - living in separate residence halls, participating in extracurricular activities designed especially for them, taking separate courses. In some ways, it was a college within a college.

Even though these early entrants had one or two fewer years of formal schooling than the other people on campus, they scored better than the top regular-admission freshmen by a wide margin. These early entrants not only succeeded as undergraduates, but more than 91% earned at least one advanced degree – masters or above - and nearly 100% were involved in some kind of community service leadership after graduation.

The Fisk basic college early entrance program continued until 1956, when my grandfather, who had conceived of the basic college idea, and who had the relationship with the Ford Foundation, passed away.

In retrospect, there are those who have pointed out that, for all of its advantages, this program had some disadvantages as well. Chief among them was that, although the early entrants were academically advanced, not all of them were mature enough to cope with some of the aspects of college life, including the challenges of living in a social environment that was dominated by people who were a little more mature.

Nevertheless, we learned from experiments such as the ones at Morehouse, at Dillard, and at Fisk, that the early college idea - the idea of challenging young people when they are ready for the challenge - the idea that many of them are ready for the challenge much earlier than most people think - that this idea works, and it works very well.

But, in the wake of these mid-twentieth century early college experiments, we were left with an unresolved problem: How do you come up with a program for challenging precocious young people without placing them in an awkward social environment?

In the 1960s Betsy Hall came up with the idea of a stand-alone early college. This was the idea behind Simons Rock Early College. Simons Rock was not part of an existing college’s effort to combat a wartime decline in admissions. Instead, it was established for the sole and exclusive purpose of providing a challenge to the growing number of young people who were ready for college work at an early age, in an environment where they completed their high school requirements, as well as a challenging college curriculum, together (instead of being separated from their peers, instead of being sent off to a social environment that was not age appropriate).

This model of a self-contained early college soon caught the attention of Bard College, so much so that Bard not only brought the Simons Rock under its umbrella - Bard also became an evangelist for the early college gospel – the notion that 16 year olds are perfectly capable of doing university level work.

We made so much noise about this notion of the self-contained and highly challenging early college that the educational community began to call us out. The Chancellor of the New York Public Schools issued a challenge: If you’re so confident of your idea, why don’t you try it out in the setting of an urban public school, without cherry-picking those students who are the most well off and who have all the advantages?

Bard took the Chancellor up on his challenge. If we had failed, we would have folded after our first effort in New York. Instead, we now have a network that includes two tuition–free but highly challenging public high school early college campuses in the City of New York, one in Newark, New Jersey, one in Baltimore, Maryland, one soon to open in the Nation’s capital, and now, two in Cleveland.

But the number of campuses is not what's important: What's important is the results. We are frequently told that none of us wants to become a statistic. However, our record of performance includes statistics that we can all be proud of.

Whereas the average retention rate for 4 year colleges is 80%, And the average retention rate for 2 year colleges is 61%, Year 1 students at Bard Early Colleges are retained to year 2 at a rate of 98.6%.

82% of our students entering year 1 graduate with an AA degree.

A recent survey found that 85% of our high school graduates enroll in [a four-year] college within 18 months of completing high school. 96 % of our Manhattan and Queens alumni who enroll in college attain a bachelor’s degree within 6 years

So the record shows that this kind of partnership - between Bard, institutions such as the Cleveland public schools, the philanthropic community, our community partners, and our fabulous students - is a partnership that produces success.

That is why we have such great expectations of the class of 2018. We fully expect that the people in this room can and will change the world - in the manner of Martin Luther King, Andrew Young, or Maynard Jackson - or in your own special way in whatever field you choose.

We have these great expectations of you because you have already started along the same road that these giants have traveled. And as you have traveled along this road, you have met every challenge that we put in front of you.

And so I say to you, congratulations and best wishes for the continued success that we know lies ahead.