Brian Brown’s Vanishing South Georgia tells us: “Before it was known as Arp, this community on the Irwin–Ben Hill County line was known as Isaac. The name was changed sometime between 1910 and 1915, and judging by the burial dates in the adjoining cemetery, I would estimate that this church dates to about 1910. Since there was already an Isaac Baptist Church, the small African American community here named their church Mount Isaac to distinguish it from the white church. And though Arp is located in Irwin County, the church and cemetery are just over the county line in Ben Hill.”

Our photographer, Steve Robinson, spoke with a local resident who confirmed this sparse bit of history. We do not know whether the original white Isaac Baptist Church still exists, but it appears the area surrounding the church—now known as Arp—was once simply called Isaac. Based on what we’ve found, Mount Isaac Church was likely constructed in the early 1900s.

The Find A Grave website lists ten interments, but there are clearly many more, including numerous unmarked graves. The earliest recorded burial we could confirm is that of Carrie Thomas, who died in 1921. She was listed in the 1920 census as a 67-year-old woman living alone. A large family plot for the Player family also exists, though we’ve found no detailed record of them. Perhaps more information will surface with time.

Many lives began, ended, were celebrated, and were changed within this modest sanctuary. It was a place of refuge, joy, and worship—a cornerstone of life for this rural Black community. Structures like this are vital to the story of the Southern United States. Built only a few decades after emancipation, churches like Mount Isaac were raised by people striving to build a life in a region still reeling from war, ravaged by the boll weevil, and witnessing the decline of agriculture as people migrated to emerging industrial cities.

Now, the old church leans toward collapse, like so many others that have faded from the Southern landscape. Soon, all that will remain are the scattered gravestones, hidden among weeds and scrub pines. It’s a familiar pattern in the rural South: entire communities vanish, leaving behind only the churches and cemeteries as markers of what once was.

This is why we believe so strongly in our mission to document these icons of the past. Places like Mount Isaac are more than buildings—they are the physical memory of resilience, faith, and community.

She may be almost gone, but she is not forgotten.