… family fun…
… and fireworks.
Patty and her husband Dee have always called
From the early to middle 20th century,
By comparison today,
Passenger rail service has long since ceased. Faded stone storefronts sit on gritty downtown streets while car-centric outlying shopping centers, anchored by a Super Wal-Mart (one of the largest of that chain in east of the Mississippi River) command the retail traffic. Most tragic of all, I think, is that the optimistic and can-do ideals of the American story appear to be slowly fading away, like long-untouched paint on a wall of old, flaking brick.
But this is only the exterior of the place, and as a traveler it is the most obvious thing to notice and in many ways the least important. Every day we’ve said it. Every post we imply it. And once again I’ll say it: The only way to know your family is to be with them; the only way to know a place is to go there. We are blessed to be on this road trip. We are blessed to visit our family and friends, to break bread with them, and to stay awhile. It is a nourishment for the spirit as much as it is for the body. And to be at Patty’s place, in and among her family, was to be home again.