RETURN TO ACORN RIDGE

During the formative years of my early childhood, we lived in a small farming community in southeast Missouri called Acorn Ridge. It was not really a town, more of a collection of houses along the highway, with a church and a small country store. Still, until we moved away the year I turned 12, it was pretty much the world to me. I can't say I have a lot of fond memories of the place, given that we were one of the poorest families to live there, yet there were good times along with the bad.

What I remember of Acorn Ridge was mostly neat little houses with well kept yards. Inhabited by mostly decent, hard working families with a no nonsense attitude towards life. Everyone knew everyone else, most of the residents attended one of the two local churches and life went on pretty much as you'd expect in any small town of the day.

So this weekend I was driving a friend of mine to Cape Girardeau on some business and decided I'd give the little town a visit. Not especially anyone I wanted to see there, after nearly 40 years, but just curious about how the town had turned out after all this time. I don't really know what I expected to see, but I sure wasn't prepared for what was there. Most of the neat little houses I remember were gone, or so overgrown and deteriorated as to be almost unrecognizable. The country store and one of the churches were gone, no sign really that they ever existed. Our old house was gone, a mobile home now sits on the lot where it used to stand.

What shocked me the most I suppose was the family home of one of the wealthiest and most prominent members of the community during the time we lived there. It had always been well kept, modest but nice house, several outbuildings, including a detached garage, expensive late model car and truck and top of the line farming equipment. It was a picture perfect farming operation built up by a very hard working, business savvy farm family. I had pictured it to be much the same as I remembered, with newer vehicles, maybe a nicer house, thinking that family members would have continued to build on what their parents had worked so hard for. I had to drive past the place twice before I was sure it was the same place. The house and garage are still there, although run down and tired looking. Gone are the outbuildings and farm machinery, the well kept yard and basically any hint of prosperity whatsoever. Perhaps they sold out after the parents died, or perhaps they were not as adept at the business of agriculture as their parents were. I think what I found so disturbing is that after 40 years, almost no evidence exists of this families one time prominence and prosperity.

While I'm glad I took the time to visit, I found the whole thing a bit disturbing. Got me to thinking a little more about what kind of legacy I'd like to leave behind and how I want to be remembered.