It was a cold morning in the Granite Capital of the World, and the case of the exploding monument was still unsolved. The criminal investigation had resulted in few answers and no arrests. Wayne Mullenix seemed to know more than he was letting on.
“Everybody will tell you that it’s been a hush-hush deal,” he said as we rode in his large white pickup truck toward the place where the stones once stood.
The Georgia Guidestones were always mysterious, and strangely magnetic, drawing tourists and miscreants alike during their 42-year lifespan. Mullenix thought of them fondly, because he laid their foundation and once owned the red clay on which they were placed. He helped build the Guidestones on behalf of an enigmatic stranger whose real name he never knew.
Before dawn on July 6, 2022, an explosion shook the walls at the Mullenix house, almost half a mile up the highway. The Guidestones were badly damaged, and would later be demolished. Mullenix took it personally.
“Well,” he said, “I was disappointed to think that somebody would go to the extreme to destroy something that has not hurt anybody one way or the other for 42 years. I mean, it’s been here. Why would you want it to be destroyed?”
Mullenix held the steering wheel in his weathered hands and drove north toward Guidestones Road. He’d agreed to show me around as I examined the two intertwined mysteries of the Guidestones: who built them, and who blew them up.
But as I learned, one of those mysteries was not really a mystery anymore. And its revelation would put the story of the Guidestones in a harsh new light.

You must be logged in to post a comment.