We found ourselves 20 miles out of our way yesterday and realized that we were in Logansport, Louisiana, a town that looks like it is living in the 1950s.
I expected to see W. Cleaver on a mail box, but did not. The Chamber of Commerce was in a small 1940s home, no changes seemed to have been made since that time. The lady who was on duty spoke on the phone, she said, "I'm swamped right now, I'll call you back." I looked around for the rest of the crowd, just my husband and I as far as I could tell. We picked up some information on local attractions and a state guide, also signing her book so the "crowd" could be accounted for.
A fishing pier was years and years old, a number of buzzards seemed resentful when we insisted that they move so we could sit and watch the Sabine River on its way to Toledo Bend Reservoir. Once the river was wide and fast moving, now it is only a remanent on its way downstream.
A local hardware store seemed to have lost its sign decades ago, it was cool and the wood floors were worn down, many people came and went while we visited. No WalMart here, small family stores still are present and seem well attended.
It was a joy to see even a dowdy little town be able to stay alive without the giant food chains that are omnipresent. We were referred up the road to a town which is well known for its meat pies that are toothsome, not Burger King or McDonalds. Getting a little lost can sure make a nice day once in a while.