The myth of small-town America

The myth of small-town America

It’s Saturday morning, and a crowd is gathering in a parking lot off Main Street. It’s been raining hard for the last hour, and blue-grey clouds still hang low in the sky; a little girl in a pink t-shirt turns her umbrella upside down to catch raindrops. Folks shift to make room for friends and strangers under the eaves and awnings. I’m late, but I don’t have any trouble finding a dry spot near a couple who, like me, just came in from out of tow…