We took the exit. As we got closer to the sign, we could see it clearly: Sorry. No gas here today.
Tornado Season
Tucked in the rolling hills of Missouri’s smallest county, a sign recalls a vibrant little town.
Devils and Elbows
I found a hideaway. When I rolled to its door, a thundershower was beating down on the low slung structure made mostly of logs with mud chinks, its back wall standing just a couple of feet above the swollen Big … Read More
If E Could Talk
I climbed up and took a nap beneath the T on this sign, sharing space with the ghosts of travelers who stopped here long ago to add a sticky chapter to their Route 66 journey. Locals too. And Spring breakers … Read More
Hiding in Plain Sight
Stare at this picture. Soon, a sign will appear. When you see it, share with all the bucks and turkeys on Facebook.
Sunset on the Family Farm
During the 1980s family farms could not endure a deadly one-two punch. The first punch by itself was devastating for a small family farm. American farm policy changed from Depression Era price protections to wide open full-tilt production, a “get … Read More
Rising Above It All
Dunklin is Missouri’s tallest county, standing almost 44 miles from its sole to its crown, and shaped like the left side of an hourglass, seemingly stuffed with cotton, mostly, until I scratched a little deeper. Down near the border, just … Read More
Ozark Skyscraper
It was a landmark rising from the Ozark hills, for decades the tallest building between Springfield and Cape. The ten story Tower Inn came down slowly, leaving a million memories of Salem’s Ozark Skyscraper. Gone now.