Skip to main content

Our Town

In this episode, Our Town . . .

Like millions from the Baby Boom generation, I grew up in a vibrant small Midwestern town with a population of ~1,300.

While listening to music on Spotify, I was recently emotionally moved by the 2007 Grammy Award-winning song Our Town written for the Disney Movie - Cars. Lyrics & Music by Randy Newman and sung by James Taylor.

In my imagination, I'm transported back in time. With tears welling up in my eyes, I can see all the storefront businesses on our town square, which surrounded a Bandstand on Main Street.

In those days, Our Town had three grocery stores, two cafes', two hardware stores, a National Bank, a Ben Franklin Store, Movie Theater, a Tastee Freeze, Drug Store with a Soda Fountain, a Furniture Store, Men's Clothing Store, Marshalls Plumbing & Heating, Tavern, Insurance offices, Wilma's Pool Hall, Doctors Office, a Newspaper Printer, Post Office, Library, two Barbershops, a Ford Dealer, local Orchard, and three gas stations. We loved - Our little town.

After graduation from high school, I'll admit, it was hard to find a reason left to stay; I went off to college and never returned. However, like many Midwestern families, my family never left; they witnessed a steady decline. It wasn't an Interstate that bypassed our community. But a cultural shift, from supporting local businesses to the incitement of discounted prices at BIG Box stores like Walmart. One-by-one, all the businesses in town closed except - The Tavern.

Back to what inspired me to write this piece. I rediscovered that timeless songs transcend their intended purpose and unlock memories that are all but lost. Allow me to share the lyrics. Click the following link to listen on YouTube.

Our Town

by; Randy Newman


Long ago, but not so very long ago
The world was different; oh yes, it was
You settled down, and you built a town and made it live
And you watched it grow
It was your town.

Time goes by, time brings changes, you change, too
Nothing comes that you can't handle, so on you go
Never see it coming; the world caves in on you
On your town
Nothing you can do.

Main street isn't Main street anymore
Lights don't shine as brightly as they shone before
Tell the truth, lights don't shine at all
In our town.

Sun comes up each morning
Just like it's always done
Get up, go to work, start the day,
Open up for business that's never gonna come
As the world rolls by a million miles away.

Main street isn't main street anymore
No one seems to need us like they did before
It's hard to find a reason left to stay
But it's our town
Love it anyway
Come what may, it's our town.

I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening; see you in the next episode.

Labels:

Comments

Tammy Ramsell said…
<3
May 5, 2022 at 10:13 PM
Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

A Mother’s Day Reflection

With Mother’s Day here and the world bustling with cards, brunches, and busy schedules, I find myself reflecting on something a bit simpler: taking a moment to remember the person who helped shape my earliest sense of home. Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom. We arrived in Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition whose enormity I only fully appreciate now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped into Midwestern life with remarkable courage. Her smile could warm the coldest Illinois morning, and her hugs lingered long after she let go—quiet reminders that you were deeply loved. Born February 16, 1934, the third of four children, she grew up in Nazi-occupied La Rochelle. As kids, we listened wide-eyed to stories of soldiers patrolling her streets and fear shadowing everyday life. Yet she carried none of that darkness forward. What endured was resilience and an unwavering devotion to family—qualities she carried across the Atlantic and planted firmly in C...
1 comment
Read more

Freedom 7 - 65th Anniversary

Podcast - Freedom 7; 65th Anniversary . "Man must rise above the Earth - to the top of the atmosphere and beyond - for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives." - Socrates, 500 B.C. May 5, 2026, marks the 65th anniversary of Freedom 7's launch. Commander Alan B. Shepard, Jr. became the first American in space. A 15-minute sub-orbital flight, a day for the history books; the entire world was watching. NASA and the world had witnessed many trial runs explode violently on the launch pad. The space program was in its infancy. Unlike today, there were far too many unknowns. This prompted me to pull out one of my favorite books from my office library,  Light This Candle , by Neal Thompson, copyright 2004. Light This Candle is a biography of Alan Shepard, Jr., you won't be able to put down. It's - "Story-telling at its best . . . every page is alive," says David Hartman, U.S Naval Institute. In the opening pages, you read endorsements fr...
Post a Comment
Read more

That Fateful Four-Letter Word

In this episode, A Masterclass in Efficiency. For nearly four months, the western border of our property has stood as a living monument to determination, dubious planning, and forensic-level lumber acquisition. Since February, our neighbor Steve has been conducting what can only be described as a masterclass in deliberate calculation. This was never going to be one of those slick home-improvement shows where a cheerful pair of men installs a fence between commercial breaks, sipping lemonade. No. This was real life in retirement. We scaled the vertical wilderness of our hillside. We mixed concrete with the precision of medieval alchemists. We bled, we sweated, and we fought hand-to-hand with a buried tree stump that had the structural integrity of a Cold War bunker. By this week—May 16th, for those keeping score—the glorious end was finally within reach. The fence stood proudly, the line was straight, and victory practically hummed in the air. Only one major task remained: installing t...
Post a Comment
Read more

Truth for Sale

This episode is inspired  by Elton John & Bernie Taupin On Memorial Day, I took my first bike ride  since the accident , seeking proof that my legs, lungs, and nerves still remembered the road. The morning air carried that familiar Southern California mix of ocean haze, exhaust, eucalyptus, and sun-baked asphalt. My tires hummed across pavement I’ve ridden for years. Somewhere between the steady click of the chain and the rhythm of my breathing, Elton John and Bernie Taupin’s The Captain and the Kid found its way into my ears. There’s a strange kind of magic when the cadence of a ride syncs perfectly with a song you know by heart. Suddenly, the music and lyrics stop being background noise and become a lens. And through that lens, the road started talking. I've been cycling on this road some, Can't help feeling I've been showing my friends around. I've seen it grow from next to nothing, To a giant eatin’ up our town. Called up the tealeaves and the tarots, Asked the...
Post a Comment
Read more