I drove past the simple brown building just a handful of weeks ago, it was the first time I had seen the place since I was “knee high to a grass hopper.”
Its windows had been boarded up and the roof was showing signs of sagging — another decade or two and I imagine the structure will be no more. The pitiful sight was a not so subtle reminder that the world I knew as a child is but a distant memory in 2019 America. Years worth of wintry winds have blown hard against the building and in the process have swept in unimaginable changes.
So much of what were common components of every day life in rural America, perhaps not sacred but certainly special, are gone. Leaving in their wake crumbling and vacant buildings dotted across the mountainscape. Sadly, the old country store I remember as a child is but another victim.
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