Nneka M. Okona | for the Chicago Tribune I was born in Atlanta during the evening hours on a Friday in late May. Days later, my parents brought me home, home to Stone Mountain. Since then, I’ve begrudgingly called this Atlanta suburb, born of red clay and granite, mine. From my hometown, the 825-foot-tall quartz monadnock for which our city is named looms in the distance, visible from most anywhere.