“Call me crazy but I love to see people happy and succeeding. Life is a journey. Not a competition.” ~ TinyBuddha
Highway 460 heading southeast by the old WPA high school turned office building, past Mamaw’s house and the lumber yard, past the road to Keaton Heights, a left up Spaws Creek before Wingo Stretch or a right to Gordon Ford just after. Drive on past the turn off to War Creek, on through Cottle, waving at White Oak’s famous Oldfield Punkin’ Patch and farm till you come to the Magoffin County line where the bootlegger’s houses were squirreled back in the woods just off 460 before the county went wet. But not Morgan. She’s still dry as a bone, but we got a Family Dollar, Dollar Store, Dairy Queen, one prison, two court houses, four banks, and three stop lights. After the tornado we even got a turn lane from main street. The town has drastically changed since the tornado, and every visit seems a little more of the old gal fades to black and white. Trees are gone, hillsides cut out like me and Mark used to do with his Tonka trucks when we cut make believe roads through mud banks by the creek. Tin roof store fronts dot vacant lots with old cement slabs still intact. I will always go back though it will never be the same. You brace for losing people, an inevitability, but you just never expect to lose a whole town. Some adjustments take a little longer than others.
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