Preservationists turn attention to saving Emory’s Briarcliff Mansion

• Joeff Davis
• Preservation advocate Charlie Paine fell in love with the historic mansion after his family moved nearby.

If there’s any silver lining to the recent razing of Sandy Springs’ Glenridge Hall, it’s the burst of attention to other endangered mansions in a region known for destroying its historic landmarks. One such historic home is the boarded-up Briarcliff Mansion at Emory University. And Druid Hills high school student Charlie Paine, its current lead defender, could sure use the help.

“Now that Glenridge Hall’s gone, there’s been talk of getting preservationists together to prevent Emory from gaining the upper hand and destroying Briarcliff by demolition by neglect,” says Paine, who created the increasingly popular Save Briarcliff/Candler Mansion group on Facebook. But he laments that there’s “only so much a high schooler can do.”

“Now’s the time to get busy for Briarcliff,” says Mark McDonald, president and CEO of the historic preservation nonprofit Georgia Trust. In recent months, McDonald has met with Paine and other preservationists, and cheers their effort to be proactive about the mansion’s future.

Paine obviously is not just another high school student. A senior at College Park’s Woodward Academy, Paine is entering the College of Charleston’s historic preservation degree program this fall. Paine says he fell in love with Briarcliff after his family moved into a neighboring house a couple years ago.

Built in 1920 by Asa “Buddy” Candler Jr. — son of the Coca-Cola tycoon who was Emory’s biggest early benefactor — the sprawling Georgian mansion gave Briarcliff Road its name. The eccentric Buddy filled the Briarcliff estate with such features as a private zoo — whose animals later became a key part of Zoo Atlanta — and a public swimming pool. By 1950, the estate passed into government hands, serving stints as an alcoholism treatment center and a psychiatric hospital jointly operated by Emory and the state. Emory took sole possession in 1998 and turned the estate into its Briarcliff Campus.

But the mansion itself remains vacant, its windows boarded over and its once-grand tile roof replaced with a temporary version. Like Glenridge Hall, it has sometimes been used for film and TV shoots. The house and grounds, which include several historic outbuildings and greenhouses, are on the National Register of Historic Places. That protection does not bar demolition.

Emory Spokeswoman Beverly Clark says in a statement that the university has no plans to demolish the mansion and makes sure it is maintained to prevent further deterioration. It also updates the DeKalb County Historical Preservation Commission on the mansion’s status.

Briarcliff’s current condition is unclear. McDonald says he was inside about three years ago and found its interior architectural details “surprisingly intact.” Paine says other preservationists have sneaked inside more recently and reported water damage issues. “The music room is rotting at the moment,” he says, referring to one of the grandest rooms.

McDonald, who also serves on Emory’s Board of Visitors, says he has met with university officials about it several times over the past five years. “They’re quite aware of its historical significance, but simply do not now have the vision,” says McDonald, who’s concerned about “demolition by neglect.” “They need to, I think, move this up the priority list. It won’t last forever as a vacant building.”

McDonald says he would rather see “a bunch of wild fraternity members in that building than have a vacant building. A vacant building is the most endangered building.”

Other Candler family mansions in the area have found reuses — and Emory has restored historic buildings on its campuses before. In fact, Emory’s president now lives in one: Lullwater House. There’s also the Callanwolde Fine Arts Center, which faced demolition after Emory sold it in the 1970s, only to be rescued by community activism.

Clark says that the university is “very” interested in partnering with another group to restore the house, “provided the mansion can be used in a means consistent with Emory’s mission.” Such a project, officials estimate, would cost at least $30 million.

Paine started the Briarcliff Facebook group last summer in the hopes of whipping up similar support and reuse ideas. (Atlanta preservation architect Charles Lawrence helped run the group, too, Paine says.) Paine says he has spoken with Emory officials and recently met with a woman who might propose turning Briarcliff into a hotel.

Paine says he’s had some trouble getting local preservationists to become more assertive — he senses fears of angering Emory, with its off-the-charts political clout in the area. But there’s been an organizing boost since he joined forces with the Glenridge Hall demolition protesters. Now he and fellow preservationists are working with Emory to set a date for a Briarcliff sit-down.

“Because Emory is an institution, not a private family, we believe they may be more worried about their reputation,” Paine says, adding that preservationists want to find a solution that works for everyone. “Hopefully, we can find a happy medium.”