Sometimes high speed Internet isn't a good thing. There I am at my grandmother Busha's farm in 1992, right off US 60 and Flat Rock Road. 88 acres of tobacco sold in the late 90s, earlier I did a satellite search of the area, moving along Flat Rock Road from US 60 to Long Run Park. No farms, no tobacco, no cornfields, no horses or cows. I saw man-made lake and buildings that looked like fake summer homes and idiotic streets named for birds. The gravel road to Busha's farm had no name, we just drove down yonder past a few other farm houses and it was the end of the line. I was there a few weeks before the farm was demolished, it was the weekend Katrina hit New Orleans, and I took a brick from the chimney. It sits on my desk off to the side of my computer...Wayne
3 comments:
Yeah, Mr. Smith was right in the matrix. We are a disease of this planet.
Ouch. Same thing happened to the once-little town where my folks live.
Odd how quickly things change, eh? Of course, the older one gets the quicker things seem to change, too. That & looking at the Niagara Gorge can really make me feel just as small & insignificant as I truly am (which isn't a bad thing.)
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