These two houses were the last tie I had to "home". Now there is nothing, and more importantly, no one, calling me back to the town where I was born.
After we signed the papers and I got my check in my hand, I decided I needed to take photos of all the places that have been important to me over nearly 50 years. I'll share a few with you here.
This is a photo I have wanted to take for many years. I've never been in this cemetery; I have no loved ones here. But I've always loved the way it looked as I drove by it. The tank farm across the road symbolizes the way nearly everyone in town makes their living, and yet even in death they remain in its shadow.
As I pulled out of the cemetery, a funeral procession was heading down the road. I stopped at the corner gas station and stood at the side of the road as a sign of respect -- that's something that's still done in this and other small towns. All vehicles pull to the shoulder, with their lights on, and pedestrians stop what they are doing, standing straight with hands at their sides.
Two highway patrol cars led the procession of a few dozen cars, with a third trooper bringing up the rear.
Next, I'll share some photos of the public art and key buildings from my town.
Life and Death in an Oil Town