Trouble in God’s Country is the long running blog by veteran reporter and writer Charlie Hayslett.
For more than a decade, Charlie has been researching, documenting and putting a spotlight on the accelerating decline of much of rural Georgia, especially in the southern half of the state, and on the widening economic, educational and political gulf between Metro Atlanta and the rest of the state.
He is the Scholar in Residence at the Center for Middle Georgia Studies at Middle Georgia State University. The views he expresses in his columns are not necessarily those of the Center or the University. More of his research and writing can be found at troubleingodscountry.com.
For most of the past year, it’s been my great privilege to write a weekly column for this and other newspapers in Georgia. Now, though, I’ve decided to step away from the column and other recent endeavors – although only a bit and only for a while.
In the flood of tributes following Jimmy Carter's passing, one major aspect of his legacy was largely overlooked: his unwavering commitment to rural America.
The Georgia General Assembly convenes in Atlanta next Monday for its 157th session. Naturally, this got me to thinking about Jack Welch.
After nearly two years in hospice care at his home in Plains, Ga., Jimmy Carter finally passed away Sunday afternoon at the age of 100.
Here’s an easy way to understand the widening gap between Metro Atlanta and the rest of Georgia: Just compare all 56 counties of interior South Georgia to Gwinnett County alone.
On the morning of December 10 th , The Atlanta Journal-Constitution featured a column by Maureen Downey, its longtime education writer, lamenting the Georgia state government’s inability to come up with sufficient funding for public education.
I have a question for the Democratic Party of Georgia. Why should any prospective donor, large or small, contribute a single dime – nay, even a penny – to this party?
In my younger days as a newspaper reporter covering Georgia politics, politicians and journalists alike would wake up on Election Day and check the weather. Where was it raining? And was it hard enough or long enough to impact the vote? And who might it help or hurt?
I spent a good portion of last Saturday winding my way back and forth across at least a half-dozen southeast Georgia counties battered by Hurricane Helene. I'd be driving along, thinking, this isn't all that bad. Then I'd top a hill or round a bend and it was like I was on another planet.
With the 2024 presidential election now mercifully behind us, we can now get down to the serious business of crystal-balling Georgia’s 2026 campaign cycle.
