and explained: “Sorry, we’re not coming. I don’t think we really want that place after all.” Good, he thought. At least I don’t have to deal with this today. He jammed the cell phone back into his pocket, glanced at the building once more, and turned and started to walk toward his car. He kicked again at the pavement, wondering if his parents ever wondered if they made the right decision moving here. He knew they did. ARRIVING When they (him, his parents and 2 siblings) first moved to town after the renovations to the building were completed, the local folks were not quite sure what to make of the new family in town. After all, the local newspaper was quick to inform everyone of the newcomers, especially since they were “city folk” moving to “small town USA”, hoping to make a go along a small stretch of famed Route 66. The townsfolk figured the new family was in for a culture shock of sorts - but they weren’t. His Dad had taken the time to educate his kids about Route 66 and the importance attached to even the smallest of towns. So, none of them were shocked at the relaxed life they had entered. Truth be told, they were all eager for the change from the “big city” life. But, they weren’t prepared for the “cold shoulder” they received from the locals. The first month his parents’ business was open, they only had one visitor. It took his Dad quite some work, and the entire family some sacrifices, to convince the locals that they were not the enemy - that they were, indeed, truly enthusiastic about and held an infectious passion in Route 66. Just a few short months later, a visitor to the town would never have guessed that this family of 5 had ever lived in a big city. GOODBYE As he pulled his big, old 1976 Caprice sedan into the driveway of the home he’s shared with
his Mom for 5 years - the same house his parents purchased when they moved to the small town, he realized his cell was still stuck in his pocket. He pulled it out and noticed a missed call. But, as he was about to hit the button to see who had called, his cell phone blinked again. The display showed the incoming call as “sis”. “Yeah?” he answered. “She is gone,” his younger sister whispered. “I tried to call you...” Silence. He couldn’t speak. Instead, he glanced at the dashboard of what had been his Dad’s pride and joy for so many years to see how much gas was left, and quickly said, “I’ll be there soon. Have you called…” “Yes. I talked to him while a song was playing. He said he was going to call Kyle to see if he could do the rest of his show so he could take the next flight out of Nashville.” “OK. I will see you soon. Here we go again.” He ended the call and backed the Caprice out of the driveway; the half-tank of gas would be plenty to get him back and forth one more time today. He had planned to park the Caprice and grab his other car, but he didn’t want to take time to switch cars out now. Besides, the Caprice was at the center of the family for years, before his Dad bought a 1990 Dodge Caravan, which was then replaced by a 2000 Ford Crown Victoria. Of those three, the Caprice was the only one still in the family. As he headed down the road, he turned the radio on to AM 650 to see if he could listen to his brother’s show. His brother, the youngest of the three, had been the first to “have enough” of the small town life and headed for a big city. He loved older country music and landed himself a job at Nashville’s WSM radio, the premier radio station that, at times, can be heard for miles. The station came in, but just barely. The first voice he heard, though, was his Mom’s: “…has been tremendous. And, because of that, my eldest son has agreed to help me keep the business open for a year so we can continue the tradition and greet people if they want to stop.” Continued on Page 12
July / August 2012
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