happened to me today. We decided to go on a bike ride and then visit a friend who lives near where I grew up in a small rural town here in the "heartland." So we were driving through this little town and I noticed a sign on what used to be a church saying that it was now a museum. So we went in. There was only one person there who was at his computer "writing a book" he said. But I was amazed at all the STUFF that was literally stuffed into that building! And he started talking nonstop about all of it and the history behind it all, and how some of the artwork on the walls was painted by a local artist who had gone to Paris and met Monet and Renoir and had worked for and learned from them. I couldn't even begin to tell you all the stories and stuff he kept going on and on about. He showed us so many pictures and of course had stories about all of it.

He also had pictures of when the town was just dirt roads and newly built buildings, and some were pictures of slaves in the early days, and he mentioned how odd that was since there were no blacks in that little town... well, he tried to say it diplomatically, but I knew that there were no blacks in that town when I grew up and had heard that there was even a law that blacks were not allowed there after sundown. So then he showed us a quilt that he said was made by slaves. I looked at it and said, "They must have been highly educated slaves because they would have had to have some math skills to make a quilt like that." He just went on and changed the subject. This guy was totally consumed with this museum, which was quite a mess really and didn't have nearly enough room for all the stuff in it. He talked about plans to add on and build another building....

He had even warned us ahead of time that he would talk so much that he wouldn't even get his feelings hurt if we just walked away while he was talking, as I assumed had happened before! I found much of it quite fascinating, but my husband was getting antsy as we needed to get going. I had to wonder, though, if there are still no blacks in that little town? Sadly, it looked rather dilapidated, but the school was still there and looked well kept. The school was really the heart of the town and probably still is. But I get the feeling it is probably a 'maga' town. The grocery store was no longer there, and neither was the dairy queen which was kind of special and nostalgic as we would sometimes get treated on special occasions, even with the whole class walking there on someone's birthday or such. I guess now people just drive to a nearby larger town for groceries and such. I also have to wonder how the farmers are doing in these little farm towns these days?