Small Town America

Sunday drives through the country. In Illinois there’s a lot of country. Back many years I had an old, fun convertible – an ’87 Ford Mustang, 5.0 with 5 on the floor. Spiffy and quick. But the best part was the wind through the hair and wind borne aromas. Refreshing. Spirit boosting.

The best rides were in the country. No traffic. Open vistas. The earth as giant producer of food and so much more. Copse of trees and hawks soaring high. Small towns popping up in unexpected places. Rolling landscapes and then town squares, churches, an occasional court house and a teeming ‘downtown’ with howdy neighbor spirit.

We loved those rides. Of course it was our escape from congested streets of a thriving metropolis. Traffic everywhere. Crowds, too. Then there is the crime and incipient danger of large environs with millions of people. Yes, the country idylls were a favorite of the family. Getting away from it all.

All this time a hint was present; one of those glints of an idea that maybe, just maybe, we would live in such an Eden one day? Just the possibility was refreshing. Just thinking of it gave new energy.

As time went on my career was more on-line and portable. I could set up my consulting shop in any bedroom of any house I wanted to buy. Preferably with a very large window looking out on a quiet country scene. When work breaks happened in this dream world, there were plenty of things to do: sleep; walk along a country lane; take more rides; visit the town diner; church happenings; cable TV with all its offerings; and of course reading, listening to music. These all were doable with family, friends and alone, whatever the needs at the time were.

That’s not how it worked out. Advancing age came along with its health needs for doctors and specialists not readily available in remote country towns. Convenience became more a requirement than a want, so landed communities were less accessible as time bore down on us. Uninterrupted electrical power became more urgent. So too the elevator and automatic garage door. The grocery down the block or across the street, those both were now more important than ever. Time was not as urgent, but stamina-saving and safe steps without tripping hazards were now the norm.

Small rural towns didn’t offer these attributes. And so the country drives became less frequent.

Then stories made it on the news. Iowa towns losing their populations, not to loss of manufacturing – they didn’t have much of that in the first place – but farm workers were disappearing. Immigrants felt alone and threatened. Legal or illegal, the hospitality for their presence faded. ICE sweeps for illegal aliens were now a factor, and families were being split up and shipped out of country. Mothers were left alone to cope with children and lesser income. They too were threatened by the incivility of suspicion. Increasingly the harried mother planned her escape to join her husband even though he was unemployed and prospects for her working were even dimmer. To what was she returning with her children? Crime and violence from gangs and drug cartels.

This family’s idyllic home in Iowa disappeared. No towns folk did this to them. But the swell of America First did do this. The political reality of Americans protecting what they didn’t understand caused a rip in the fabric of community life they didn’t even see, let alone understand.

And then, one of the most revered university communities in the nation – Charlottesville, Virginia – was rendered violent and lethal. White supremacists came to town to protest for all-white communities, against illegal immigrants, higher education and intellectual exploration. One person died when a crazed protester drove his car at high speed directly into a crowd. Two state policemen died in a small helicopter crash when law enforcement massed to restore order to the small city.

An idyllic community of education, inquisitiveness, and culture, was attacked by bullies, know-nothings and uncontrolled anger. Innocent people were targeted. Innocent people were injured. Three are now dead. From unthinking, uncontrolled emotions gone wild and amok among peace loving people. In their own community. The marauding deplorables came from outside to protest what they didn’t understand.

And the president of the United States – the man who raised the vitriol of spoken words – did nothing. He who is of law and order and rules and ‘values’ suddenly was mute. No words of sympathy. No words decrying violence. Just nothing.

The country towns are transforming to something we know little of. They are fearful of losing what they already have lost – innocence and rock solid values. Something is lost and one wonders if and when it will be restored?

Oh for the small town America we recall so dearly. Does it still exist? Will its innocence be refreshed?  When?

August 16, 2017