I grew up on the outskirts of the Atlanta suburbs in a town that didn't have a whole lot going for it in the way of retail for the first 18 years of my life. That changed a bit when I was in high school and we started gaining some new big box stores (I remember how my friends and I couldn't wait to turn 16 so we could all try to get jobs there).
Eventually, we got a mall. I remember moving off to Athens to attend the University of Georgia and coming home one fall weekend to find that it was finally open. I decided to check it out, and it was so full you could barely walk through it, and it felt like I ran into every person I'd ever known.
Before that, if you wanted to do any shopping beyond the local grocery store or Walmart or Lowe's, it was a special excursion. I spent many days of my childhood riding in the back of my grandmother's car as she took my mom and me into Union City to shop at Shannon Mall or Atlanta to shop at Cumberland. I hated shopping, even back then, but they always bribed me with a trip to Chick-fil-A for lunch — for a long time, you could only get it in mall stores, and it was a special treat.
But in 1996, I discovered that I didn't so much hate shopping. I just didn't enjoy shopping for the things my mom and grandmother wanted. Because Barnes & Noble built a massive, standalone superstore in the Cumberland area, and I couldn't get enough of it. I begged my mom to take me there any chance I got, and once I was old enough to drive, I took myself there, even if it meant navigating I-285 as a new driver (something no one likes to do, even as a seasoned driver).
It wasn't just a shopping trip; it was an experience. The two-story building with its columns and grand appearance looked more like a mansion than a retail outlet. And once you got inside, the dark wooden shelves filled with what felt like every book under the sun were only part of the appeal. There was something about being in that store that made me feel smart and important, shopping alongside those other book enthusiasts, while a soft jazz number hummed over the loudspeaker and the scents of freshly printed books and coffee filled the air. It felt so sophisticated, like I was in some ancient library.
Barnes & Noble Cumberland closing its doors in August https://t.co/I1Fwwnxg8F pic.twitter.com/nP2qkIaVsv
— WSB-TV (@wsbtv) June 2, 2026
It became my go-to shopping place for school projects. There was no Amazon back then. If I needed a book for a class, I had to hunt it down across Metro Atlanta. It was my go-to for Christmas presents. I had parents who loved to read and friends who loved all the cute little knickknacks the store kept stocked near the registers. My friends and I even made a few last-minute Sunday trips there to pick up some CliffsNotes to, uh, supplement our studies. Yeah, that's it.
And forget the new Party City in my town where all my friends wanted to work — I was suddenly imagining myself working at that Cumberland Barnes & Noble when I was old enough, but my mom put an end to that dream, telling me it was too far for a high school student to drive every day. However, I never lost that desire and spent three years in college working in a Borders bookstore. Close enough.
On Wednesday, Aug. 19, that Barnes & Noble closed its doors for good. Apparently, it announced this in June, but I've been so busy with life this summer that I never heard the news. I haven't been there in years, but it would have been nice to make one last stop, plus I heard the store had some amazing sales going on with its remaining inventory.
Customers pack Barnes & Noble in Cumberland ahead of closing https://t.co/rsIkmLiCyY
— Atlanta News First (@ATLNewsFirst) June 2, 2026
I didn't realize this until Wednesday, but it was one of the oldest Barnes & Noble stores in the country, and I believe it was the oldest in the Atlanta area.
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Word on the street is that the building will be torn down and a RaceTrac gas station will move in in its place. I have nothing against RaceTrac, but that just feels so gross and generic. Barnes & Noble is reportedly looking for a new location to reopen a smaller version of the store in the area, but it will never be the same.
The way we shop is changing, so I understand why this happened. I'm not begrudging anyone that. Like I said, I hadn't been there in years myself, and I get a lot of books from Amazon and other sources these days. But it does feel like the end of an era — the era when I grew up, my coming-of-age years. A time when you had to take the time to go out to buy something rather than just click on a screen. The days of going to Blockbuster with your best friend on Friday nights to pick out a movie for your sleepover or spending a random weekday in Rich's or Sears while your mother and grandmother looked at every single dress on the racks to find just the right one for some special occasion.
Shopping wasn't just about buying something. It meant adventure, mini road trips, spending time with family and friends, and chasing down the items you truly wanted or needed instead of having them delivered to your doorstep. I kind of miss it all.
