Scenes from Rural Missouri... places where I grew up.

A photo dump of country images in black & white.

Hellloooo new subscribers and welcome to a look at the heartland where I grew up. This is essay #83 and I appreciate you being here!

Last week, I walked around the square in a very tiny town in rural Missouri, population 632. I was transported back to a warm summer day, holding my grandmothers hand as a little girl. She took me into the office of the weekly newspaper… I can still smell the dusty ink and stacks of papers.

Next door was the “general store”. Everyone knew Nellie Lee, and years later, when they were still open for business, I would go in and they would say, “Oh, you’re Nellie’s Granddaughter!”

I felt famous.

Last week, some 55 years later, this is what I saw:

An unexpected collapse… no one was hurt. Underneath all that rubble, is a working lawyers office, with his desk and papers still in place, law books behind glass bookcases.

Around the corner of the collapse was this door to the local tavern, and damned if they didn’t leave a number where I could make an appointment. 😂

The storefronts are empty and the walkways are dirty and leaf strewn. What was once a vibrant, friendly county seat feels lonely. The courthouse, a Caseys General Store, and a Dollar General are destinations. There’s a terrific little Mexican restaurant.

Recently, a fitness center just opened up. That felt hopeful.

Elsewhere, these images give you an idea of life in the middle of America.

Along a country road.

Where I’ll be voting in November.

This was a store once where my grandparents let me buy penny candy. They had dogs and guns in the back.

Looking west from my house. The sky is typically spectacular.

Rural postal service.

Behind the collapsed building.

The rhythm of life is slower here, but important nonetheless. The people who put food on your plate live here. Rural people appreciate the almost extreme quiet when they sit on their porch in the evening. They possess a strong sense of community and resent being referred to as “fly over country”. The contributions of our rural Americans are not to be ignored or taken lightly.

I have a history here, and my perspective was shaped by grandparents who were progressive thinkers and made it possible for me to call it home.

Lucky me.