My second career, post-teacher retirement job involves a certain amount of travel through all sorts of towns in the Central and Southern parts of Illinois.  

Since I spend a good deal of my time traveling from town to town, I take in a lot of interesting things that some people might find a bit humdrum.

You can only listen to the radio and podcasts for so long, right?

First, I try to keep mental notes of towns I never knew existed in Illinois. Towns with unusual names.   

Of course, as I sit here and write, my mental note page is blank, save for the lone little town that I passed by one day. I didn’t actually pass the town, but I passed the sign for the town. It simply said “Birds” and had an arrow pointing east, I think. I glanced down the little road as I passed by on the highway and saw a small grouping of houses.

For a minute, I thought the sign could be an advertisement.  But it was a green town sign, after all.  So small, no population was listed.

Once there was a town there. There had to be something of note in order for there to be a town, I suppose. 

 It seems to me that some tiny towns were actually built around churches. Perhaps a congregation moved there for religious freedom? Or there was a church split and half of the church formed a new one and built a town?

Many have railroad tracks through them, and some have railroad tracks that have been covered over or removed.  Some have old coal mines or a few factories that are now defunct.  

It always intrigues me to drive through little towns and see what their claim to fame is or was – mostly was. 

I am saddened to drive into a tiny place where there was clearly a town square at one time. I have seen old general stores that have been made into barns or garages. One still had a very faded Coca-Cola sign above the sagging garage door and I almost got out and took a picture of the building. One can imagine the conversations on that front porch, now removed to make way for the garage door.  

I never have enough time to stop and look around.   That may be a good thing.

Lots of old schools and once vibrant buildings with boards on the windows or broken out windows. They are numerous, it seems.  

There are towns that, judging by the architecture of the buildings, were thriving in the 1920s-30s, and by the 1950s had started to decline. I drove past a grand, white stone building one day with ornate embellishments around the roof and boarded up windows.  

My guess is that it was some kind of fancy restaurant, hotel, or even maybe a ballroom or dance hall.  Such a cool old building, and no one has the money, time or knowledge to maintain it or fix it up.

I won’t even get into the many sad houses I’ve seen in the middle of farm fields, or the houses I’ve seen that have been lived in recently yet are on the road to decline.

Houses are goners when they aren’t occupied.

I’m always glad to see what was clearly the country school house sitting proudly on the corner of a gravel road, either restored for historical purposes or made into a home. 

I always wonder if they still have blackboards, especially if someone lives there.

If only we could glance into a crystal ball. Jump into a wayback machine like in the Mr. Peabody cartoon. Or better yet, look at a book of old photos.  

Wouldn’t it be cool if every forgotten little hamlet had some sort of brochure stand sitting around?

What did this place used to look like? Oh, here’s a brochure!

I’ve been on the road too long. I know what you’re thinking.

But by golly, it doesn’t matter how sad the little towns are, you can almost find at least one gambling establishment. And a Dollar General.  And Casey’s.

I am no longer grumbling about the last two.  Well, maybe DG – and definitely gambling.  

But God Bless Casey’s.  Casey’s is always like an old friend.  I drive for miles sometimes, thinking I am going to need a pit stop sooner than later and maybe some gas. I can get both types of gas at Casey’s, as I frequently run on empty in my car and my stomach.  

Casey’s always has that greasy, delectable pizza.  Good in a pinch when you just can’t go much longer without something to eat.

And I’ll tell you this: Casey’s bathrooms, overall, are pretty clean places to stop.

Just sayin’.

However, my blue ribbon of the week goes to the Marathon Convenience Gas Station and Store in Robinson, Illinois.  That place was like the Taj Mahal.  Clean as a whistle.

I appreciate clean facilities.  Don’t you?

Plus, I’ll tell you WHY the whole place was pristine:  there were four well- uniformed and kindly looking older ladies who worked there. All four were busy, friendly, and hard working.  Or so they appeared.  There were no aloof youngsters working there who seem to want to punish the public for having to work.

You gotta have at least one older adult cracking the whip, I tell you.

But if you have four?  

You could eat off the floor, folks.