My job takes me on the road a lot. I drive through the country and am able to take in lots of sights of rural, pastoral landscape. There are rolling hills, pine trees, farmland and livestock grazing on emerald green rye grass. I go into the city, too, but I like driving in the country and meeting and visiting with folks that grew up in the backwoods and would have it no other way. They often offer me coffee or a soft drink for the road. It restores trust in your fellow man and bolsters optimism of American strength, work ethic and old time values.
There are times, however, that I take in sights that are sad, discouraging and downright depressing. Sorry to be a "Debbie downer," but today I'm going to share a couple of those sights. In a neighboring town that I'm very familiar with, I drove by the first of two things I'll talk about. Here's the first:
A church with a For Sale sign out in front. This was a small Methodist Church. I'm seeing more and more of this, and I'm sure you are too. I know some of the people that attended services here. The doors are locked and the lights are off. As I passed by today, I had to stop and take a photo. I lingered with a deep sadness, possibly amplified by a gloomy, grey day and thought about what must have occurred. I'm not positive on the details, but I'm sure something close to it took place.
Families raised their kids in services here. Vacation Bible School was teeming with kids. Hymns like "Amazing Grace" and "A Mighty Fortress is our God" and "This is My Father's World" were sung with reverence and awe. Christmas services were held with candles that dripped wax. There was a paper ring surrounding the candle, but kids always found a way to play with the melting wax and get it on the wooden pews. Then those kids grew up, graduated, went off to college and were lured away to cities where opportunity existed. The church, now more silent without the sounds of kids and running feet, still pressed on with the older parishioners still faithful in attendance, but without younger people to provide a continued leadership and adding new generations of faith to the old wooden pews, the congregants looked around with sadness, knowing the clock was ticking.
Then one day there was a funeral, followed by another and another. The church echoed more. Sunday mornings were different without the old fellow and his wife that had sat in that old wooden pew, the third from the back on the right hand side, for four decades. Without the injection of the next generation, the handwriting was on the wall. Soon there was no one to play the piano anymore. A preacher, I'm sure, who traveled from town to town, bringing spiritual instruction to the little flock, before long found himself talking to one of the few still in attendance as the tithes collected were no longer covering the cost to pay the electricity bill. Tough decisions were made and one Sunday services were no longer held and instead the doors were locked and a For Sale sign was erected. Whew, that was a little tough to write!
I drove approximately one half mile, over the railroad tracks and down Main Street toward the Court House and looked to my left:
This was the Hardware store that was a fixture on Main Street. We knew the proprietor well. He was always there. You walked in the door and a bell on the door announced your arrival. The owner greeted you and asked if he could help you find something. (Imagine getting that in a big box store!) Anything you could ever want could be found in this little hardware store, from pea shellers to brooms and rat traps, to nuts and bolts and fittings, to new screen to put on the screen door and even cast iron cookware.
Wal Mart moved in and built stores in neighboring towns in the 80's and then big box hardware stores with larger assortments and lower prices due to buying in bulk. People stopped fixing things. It was easier and more affordable to just dispose of broken things and replace them with cheap, imported goods. A more mobile society made it easier for folks to make trips to "the city" where they purchased their items. The bell on the door of the old hardware store on Main Street rang less and less.
And here we are. The light is still on above the door, but there are no more shoppers and the proprietor who once greeted you by name has passed away. The store has been closed for years. The old Main Street that once was busy has as many boarded up storefronts as businesses that are open. A once busy, bustling and thriving Main Street in Small Town USA is trying to look to the future. How can it survive?
A good question, indeed. I have no answers. I'm a nostalgic guy, and I realize this is a dismal, gloomy post. What is playing out in this town is happening all across the fruited plain. We have decided to make a conscious effort to try to support small town businesses, mom & pop shops, with our small budget. I believe there is hope. I see many towns trying to revitalize and build on the past while looking to the future and that's a very good thing. There has to be opportunity for young folks to stay in small towns and raise their families there and be the recipients of the benefits of knowing your neighbor. The wonderful people that make their homes in small towns and the quality of life found in places like this are amazing and I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to be raised in one.
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