The Y2K Readiness Pavilion

Tolley Springs, Georgia · Government · est. 1999

The operations floor from the taped aisle; the clock has read 11:58 since March 2000.Photo: M. Pruitt
The generator and automatic transfer switch at the rear elevation; the exercise schedule is zip-tied to the disconnect.Photo: M. Pruitt
Plaque reading 'HISTORICAL MARKER SPECIFIC SIGNIFIED HISTORE SIGNIFIE AND OTHER LOCALS' mounted on the north wall.Photo: M. Pruitt
Interior documentation.Narration: M. Pruitt

The Ocmulgee County Y2K command center, activated December 31, 1999, stood down on January 3, 2000, and was preserved exactly as its staff left it by a 4–3 vote of the county commission. The wall clock reads 11:58 and may not, under the terms of the vote, be touched.

History

Ocmulgee County established its Year 2000 command center in the spring of 1999 with $112,000 in federal pass-through preparedness funds, converting the former agricultural extension demonstration pavilion behind the courthouse. The Office of Emergency Preparedness installed fourteen dedicated telephone lines, a diesel generator with automatic transfer switch, a six-by-ten whiteboard, a 96-hour supply of bottled water, a dot-matrix printer, and eleven contingency binders labeled A through K. Staff drilled monthly from July onward; the October drill was observed by a state coordinator whose written assessment — 'this county is ready' — hangs by the door in a frame the county print shop happened to have on hand, and which has never been upgraded.

On the night of December 31, 1999, the pavilion was staffed by forty-one county employees and cleared volunteers. The rollover was observed at midnight against the whiteboard's checklist: power, water, telephone, jail door controls, the courthouse elevator. All systems held. The only incident entered in the log came at 12:04 a.m., when a resident of Tolley Springs called to report that his porch light was still working, which he found suspicious; the duty officer logged the call, thanked him, and marked it resolved at 12:06. Coffee consumption for the night was recorded, for reasons no one now defends, at 34 gallons. Staffing stepped down in shifts through the weekend without further entries.

On January 3, 2000, the decommissioning order was signed at 11:58 a.m. and the staff filed out. At its next regular meeting the commission took up a motion to clear the pavilion for storage. Commissioner Dorothy Vann moved a substitute: that the room be preserved 'as found, as this county's proof that it was ready for something that did not happen.' After two continuances and a site visit, the substitute carried 4–3, the dissenters asking that their votes be recorded, which they were, and which are now displayed beside the door. An $8,400 annual line item covers utilities, pest control, and quarterly dusting, which is performed in place.

Preservation has been literal. Nothing in the pavilion may be moved, including the wall clock, whose battery ran down in March 2000 with the hands at 11:58 — an hour visitors uniformly take for two minutes to midnight, and which the docent is instructed to clarify once, then leave alone. A 2009 motion to permit a battery change failed 4–3, a margin the Tolley Springs paper noted was preserved even though only one of the original seven commissioners still served. The generator is exercised on second Tuesdays at 10 a.m.; the sound carries to the square, and a number of residents report timing their errands by it, which the county neither encourages nor schedules around.

We were ready. That's the whole exhibit. You'd be surprised how few counties can prove it.

Weldon Askew, retired county 911 coordinator

Local Legends

It is said that one of the fourteen telephones still has dial tone, and that which one changes. The county maintains that all fourteen lines were disconnected in 2000, and has declined to demonstrate this on preservation grounds.

Binder D is believed to be empty. Opinion in Tolley Springs divides on whether this is more reassuring or less, and the docent, who has seen inside it, presents both views without settling the matter.

Some residents hold that the 96-hour water supply is quietly rotated; others that it is original and 'still good.' The shrink-wrap on the pallets is dusty and intact, which both camps cite.

The Controversy

The county's insurance carrier moved in 2013 to classify the pavilion as a vacant structure, which carries a higher premium, on the grounds that it is unoccupied. The county responded that the building is fully furnished, actively curated, and visited on a posted schedule, and is therefore not vacant but 'occupied by contents.' The dispute ran three renewal cycles and settled with a rider describing the pavilion as 'attended periodically,' at standard rates. The commission accepted the language 4–3, a margin one member described as traditional.

Visitor Reviews

J. Whitlow★★★★★

I was nine that night and my mother worked one of those phones. Her handwriting is still on the whiteboard, column three. I stood at the tape for a long time. Take your kids.

vending_reviews_GA★★★★★

The pavilion has no vending. The courthouse lobby machine (crackers, expired mints) rates a 2. The exhibit itself seemed thorough.

Earl B.★★★★

It is a room where nothing happened, kept exactly as it was the moment it finished happening. The binders are labeled very clearly. Worth the Thursday.

Monica T.★★★★

The clock situation is explained well. It is not the time you think it is. Neither was it then.

Gift Shop

Currently in stock

  • Reproduction contingency binder tab set (A–K)ask at desk
  • 'I WAS READY' lapel pinask at desk
  • Postcard: the whiteboard, column threeask at desk
  • Certificate of Preparedness (dot-matrix, printed while you wait)ask at desk
  • Souvenir pencil stamped 01-01-2000 (unsharpened)ask at desk
  • Bottled water (current stock; the exhibit's is not for sale)ask at desk