Stone Mountain a major part of 85-year-old's life

Annette Merritt’s day started like many others.

She recited her daily motto to herself: “Today is going to be a good day.”

She ate her granola bar and three Hershey’s kisses. But on this morning, she grabbed two extra chocolate kisses.

She often takes a nap after breakfast, but instead, the Decatur woman laced up her sky blue sneakers, grabbed two bottles of water and headed to Stone Mountain.

After battling health woes and nerves that kept her away from Stone Mountain for almost 20 years, Merritt has resumed walking up it.

At 85 years old.

She has a pacemaker. She swallows 15 pills every morning and takes more later in the day. She enjoys working in her yard and walking around her neighborhood, but is not particularly active otherwise these days.

But for the past several months, she’s prepared herself to get back on the mountain. She consulted with her doctor, who gave her the green light — as long as she didn’t go solo.

Carrying a small tote bag inscribed “Count each day as a blessing,” Merritt beams as she begins her climb.

“I wanted to do it again,” she says. “It’s been a special part of my life.”

Always a special place

Stone Mountain was her playground as a child, a family picnic spot as a young mom and the go-to place for romantic strolls with her husband.

In late April, she completed her first 1.3-mile trek to the summit in 18 years.

On this May morning, she’s going up again, this time to earn an official certificate of completion. Outfitted in a pink cotton shirt and blue cotton pants, she takes big, deliberate steps along the trail. She’s careful but not timid. She moves with swiftness and confidence, even as she tackles enormous, jagged rocks. She breathes easily. And smiles even more easily.

Merritt was born not far from Stone Mountain in 1924, the same year carving began. During her childhood, only the etching of Gen. Robert. E. Lee was completed. Still, the huge carving of the Civil War figure wowed her every single time she and her pals eyed it from the mountain top.

“We always marveled at the fact it was so big a man could sit in [Lee’s] ear,” said Merritt, who grew up in Clarkston. “We just thought that was so neat.”

A tomboy as a youngster, she always hurried to the top, racing her playmates. She loved the wide open space and freedom to roam an expansive granite playground that took you so high “you felt like you were on top of the world.”

Growing up during the Great Depression, money was extremely tight for Merritt and her family. Stone Mountain, though, was free and majestic, so it was the obvious spot for special outings, she said.

Her mom would pack a picnic: peanut butter sandwiches and biscuits sweetened with syrup.

‘I am proud of me’

Over the years, Merritt continued to return with school groups and also with her church. In 1992, on a warm April morning, she and her husband, Fred “Dude” Merritt, decided to go on a whim. They held hands at the top of the mountain and asked another hiker to snap a photo.

That was the last time she made the trip before this spring.

Four years ago, her husband of 62 years passed away. She thought about him during her recent climb. “He would be doing this with me if he were still alive,” she said more than once.

This time up, she’s accompanied by her youngest daughter, Robin Merritt, 48.

“It’s a blessing,” her daughter says as she holds her mom’s hand for a moment during the walk. “That she has the desire and the ability. It’s wonderful.”

Merritt pauses only a couple of times in a shade of pine trees. She sits on a rock, takes a couple of sips of water, dabs her face with a tissue and gets up again.

She reaches the top at one hour and four minutes— 20 minutes quicker than her time a few weeks before.

She spreads out her arms and says, “I did it! Tell everyone I did it.”

“I am proud of you,” says Robin.

“I am proud of me,” says Merritt.

At the top of the mountain, Jeanine Jones, the park’s public relations manager, hands her a “Certificate of Recognition.”

Jones had heard about Merritt’s climb and arranged to meet her at the top. She says it’s not uncommon to see hikers who are well into their 70s. But tackling the mountain in your 80s, she said, is rare.