The digging exposed the original footings of the brick walls and undermined their integrity as the surrounding dirt was removed. So they had to take it in steps, dig part of the way here, build a form and pour a concrete reinforcement for the original footings, then move to the next section. The ultimate goal in this process was to dig down and pour an entirely new concrete base used to attached steel girders. This was going to allow them to build the building inside a building. The steel shoring that had been in place since right after the fire couldn't be removed until sections of the new internal steel structure were built. Then the old brick walls had to be affixed with steel plates and bolts to the new internal steel frame. The original building was not actually "squared up" too good compared to modern standards, so there were a lot of custom workarounds that had to be undertaken. Some give and take and kink or two in measurements at times.
In the view above you can see the row of bricked up windows that were originally at the street level, down very low. My guess is that these were probably down low, next to the floor in order to promote air circulation. The area where those windows were, outside would have been a small alley in those days. Can you imagine how hot it used to get in there? I'm always amazed seeing old pictures from that era. All the people in their buttoned up collars and wool jackets or long multi-layered dresses. There must have been certain times of the year that the upstairs areas of the building were uninhabitable during summer afternoons.
This aspect of completely clearing the interior out so we could see the interior walls laid bare was fascinating. Because clearly, they had their own story to tell. Ghosts of long gone stairways. Hidden airshafts. The long rumored coal tunnel that ran to city hall where all coal was sold to downtown businesses by the barrow load, and run back to the buildings in dim lit tunnels by young boys in a bygone era. At least that was a story I was told by people. Like so many things in Athens, it's probably only partially true, if at all.
There were giant granite lintels that had been incorporated into the original brick support for the stairway and arched entranced that was originally on Clayton street. Old windows, bricked up for who knows how long. There was still the skeleton of the steel that supported the balcony, the bathrooms, and upstairs offices.
There was a riot of different colored bricks and different types of masonry. Even more evidence of doorways not going anywhere. I really wanted to know where they all had to lead to or looked out on. There is so little written history of the building, it's hard to track down any definite sources. Wikipedia has a short page that outlines the building's opening and subsequent use. It's pretty skimpy as far as info, and and we'll probably never be able to fill in the details. The YMCA, who bought the land and built the structure may have more information if you want to go down the rabbit hole. The UGA men's basketball team became one of the primary users when the building was the still the YMCA, but again, there were several changes in the ownership and use of the structure in the early years.
It was super cool to see all the changes and unexplained windows and doorways exposed, despite the disaster.
From the first months I arrived in Athens to the last day I lived in the city, there were people that swore there had been a pool built in the basement of the Georgia Theatre at some point as the YMCA. This pool, rumored to be made of steel and installed at some later date, was supposedly eventually closed because of the persistent rowdy nature of the fraternity brothers that used it. It was said that they regularly doused the illumination with their fierce water play. I had two different people tell that story.
No steel pool liners were ever dug up from the basement of the Georgia Theatre, so the myth is busted if you ask me! But who knows? Maybe the YMCA folks.