We rounded a corner, my husband and I on our way to a Natural Bridge and, in the setting sun, we came upon a ghost town. An honest-to-God ghost town. No gift shops or commemorative t-shirts. No postcards. Just 3 abandoned homes and a couple of falling down stores...and an obsession.
After I forced my husband to stop the car at a rather precarious point in the mountainous road (I believe the locals call it "Hell's Highway"), I stood in the yards of homes and buildings that had some evidence of life. A potted plant that someone is watering. A garbage can, a pick 'em up truck parked around the back of a falling storefront. Still, I took my blinged-out phone in hand and clicked away. My phone and I seemed incongruent in that setting. I was definitely the intruder.
These last 24 hours have been filled with horseback rides and hikes through the forest down to the Cumberland River. But my head is filled with the story of that town. Research will soon begin. The people will move into those empty homes, shop in those store fronts, and fill this heart of mine.
As soon as I finish Jerry and get him out the door...
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