A white clapboard house at dusk with a deep wraparound porch and columns, the screen door standing ajar and a lamp burning inside.

TheCook Book

Adel · Cook County · Georgia

Because I’m not done yet.

Robin Postell

Come on in
The Book

One county, taken
as seriously as a capital

Still revising

Because I’m not done yet.
And neither are you.
Welcome to the story.

The Cook Book is where I explore Cook County — my home, where I was born in room 28 of Adel Memorial Hospital to my 28-year-old mother on October 28. My blood is in this soul although I never knew how much or how deep until 2024, when it became evident while producing a Ghost Tour in our oldest and largest cemetery. The pioneers chosen began to become familiar since I was also building my family tree.

This adventure began with the discovery, on a full-moon spotlighted night in Woodlawn Cemetery in Adel, of a lichen-covered white marble statue of a 4-year-old boy, Myron Griggs Hinson. I captured the photo with the moon basking lazily above the boy, watching over him, it seemed.

That year, 2013–2014, I had the opportunity to live in my great-grandmother Dora Agnes Parrish Petteway Wright’s house on the corner of Fourth and Gordon, the house that is the center of the Cook Book, and it was a magical and haunting time I will never forget. Finding Myron that night set a chain of events in motion that continues to unfold.

And I cannot wait to tell you about it.

Next, we will uncover the mystery of Myron Griggs Hinson and what caused his untimely death in 1913. I look forward to seeing you around here daily so you won’t miss a thing.

R

I spent thirty years going everywhere else to find the story. It was here.— Robin Postell
Through the Door

What Came Out of It

The book is set down. These are not.

1873Puddleville, Georgia
1918Cook County is made
47Pages of foundation
220Questions about the ground
The House

Everything I Know
I learned on a porch

A sepia snapshot: a woman in a wide-brimmed hat bending over a wicker chair beside a house, a dog at the edge of the frame.
The hat, the wicker chair, the dog, the bay window behind her. Family photograph · Adel, Georgia · © Robin PostellHover or tap — as a negative

A screen door is the most honest thing in a Southern house. It lets the air through and it keeps the flies out. You can see who is coming and they can see you seeing them. It never once pretended to be a wall.

It is also the only door in the house that announces you. It slaps shut behind every child who ever ran out of a kitchen. That sound is the reason I am writing any of this down.