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This is a rather nostalgic piece - Meandering around on rural roads, in search of one-horse towns, with no place in particular to go, Connie - that’s my wife - and I, with a map across her knees, were cruising routes on which we could drive slow, Knowing not a better way to rediscover scenery…for which it is, by God’s grace, not too late… And savor sights we seldom see simply ‘cause it’s easier to pass them by and use the interstate. And when we found a tiny-town we’d scan their residentials by wandering through their side streets - end to end - Too often we’d find houses sitting empty…left to die…with wounds that only fools would pay to mend. Some were weathered badly with their stoops engulfed by weeds and, here and there, a window broken out! The first time we encountered such neglect we tried deducing what this great neglect was all about. What we figured out was that the cities - with their jobs - had lured away their owners by the score, Which left their homes to wither, each a barren lifeless shell, with a rusty knob and hinges on its door. A few at least appeared to meet the needs of someone who - if destitute - could live in them…I guess… But seeing so much disregard you couldn’t help but think that only someone under great duress Would have done so willingly…if they’d had a choice! But ties to where a person’s born are strong, And most who chose to stick it out, I’m sure, are quite convinced that “staying put” was far more right than wrong. Most, we think, are simply folks that shy away from cities and choose, like us, to run the safer routes, Dodging all the four and six-lane highways, when they can, to drive the two-lane roads on their commutes. But still a bit confused about exactly what it is about these one-horse towns that they prefer, We started taking pictures of “the way they used to be”, then labeled them, to tell us where we were The day that each was taken, and it actually makes us sad to contemplate their “Main Streets” from the past, Knowing how their businesses - now closed - had clearly thrived from the day they first were “open” - ‘til the last. There’re Barbershops and General Stores in almost every one…plus pharmacies and classic one-room schools - Livery stables, small hotels, General Stores and Mercantiles, where carpenters and farmers bought their tools - Mortuaries, a telegraph, a tavern here and there…and small cafés - often two or three - And in the slightly bigger towns, we’d sometimes find the shell of an Opera House, where folks could go and see Anything from picture shows to a windy politician. There are doctors, dentists…sometimes printing shops, And bustling little depots - if the town were big enough to be among the railroad’s weekly stops. And in most every photo-set - of every one-horse town - we snapped a couple pictures of their church. These pictures help us hold on tight to how things used to be…and the albums we’ve created through our search Truly makes it easier to understand the reason why folks who see things differently remain. They weren’t concerned about the things they’d lose by hanging on, but rather, by their choices - what they’d gain! They love the calm and quiet - the serenity - clean air - and me and Connie know we’d love it, too, But, living several miles from the nearest one-horse-town - to earn a living - doing what we do - It’s best, for now, we’re living very close to where we work, and settle for our trips to “days gone by”, But one day we’ll be moving to the nicest one we’ve found, and - having read this poem…you’ll know why.

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One-Horse Towns - In Both Audio and Text

This is a rather nostalgic piece - Meandering around on rural roads, in search of one-horse towns, with no place in particular to go, Connie - that’s my wife - and I, with a map across her knees, were cruising routes on which we could drive slow, Knowing not a better way to rediscover scenery…for which it is, by God’s grace, not too late… And savor sights we seldom see simply ‘cause it’s easier to pass them by and use the interstate. And when we found a tiny-town we’d scan their residentials by wandering through their side streets - end to end - Too often we’d find houses sitting empty…left to die…with wounds that only fools would pay to mend. Some were weathered badly with their stoops engulfed by weeds and, here and there, a window broken out! The first time we encountered such neglect we tried deducing what this great neglect was all about. What we figured out was that the cities - with their jobs - had lured away their owners by the score, Which left their homes to wither, each a barren lifeless shell, with a rusty knob and hinges on its door. A few at least appeared to meet the needs of someone who - if destitute - could live in them…I guess… But seeing so much disregard you couldn’t help but think that only someone under great duress Would have done so willingly…if they’d had a choice! But ties to where a person’s born are strong, And most who chose to stick it out, I’m sure, are quite convinced that “staying put” was far more right than wrong. Most, we think, are simply folks that shy away from cities and choose, like us, to run the safer routes, Dodging all the four and six-lane highways, when they can, to drive the two-lane roads on their commutes. But still a bit confused about exactly what it is about these one-horse towns that they prefer, We started taking pictures of “the way they used to be”, then labeled them, to tell us where we were The day that each was taken, and it actually makes us sad to contemplate their “Main Streets” from the past, Knowing how their businesses - now closed - had clearly thrived from the day they first were “open” - ‘til the last. There’re Barbershops and General Stores in almost every one…plus pharmacies and classic one-room schools - Livery stables, small hotels, General Stores and Mercantiles, where carpenters and farmers bought their tools - Mortuaries, a telegraph, a tavern here and there…and small cafés - often two or three - And in the slightly bigger towns, we’d sometimes find the shell of an Opera House, where folks could go and see Anything from picture shows to a windy politician. There are doctors, dentists…sometimes printing shops, And bustling little depots - if the town were big enough to be among the railroad’s weekly stops. And in most every photo-set - of every one-horse town - we snapped a couple pictures of their church. These pictures help us hold on tight to how things used to be…and the albums we’ve created through our search Truly makes it easier to understand the reason why folks who see things differently remain. They weren’t concerned about the things they’d lose by hanging on, but rather, by their choices - what they’d gain! They love the calm and quiet - the serenity - clean air - and me and Connie know we’d love it, too, But, living several miles from the nearest one-horse-town - to earn a living - doing what we do - It’s best, for now, we’re living very close to where we work, and settle for our trips to “days gone by”, But one day we’ll be moving to the nicest one we’ve found, and - having read this poem…you’ll know why.