Small town satisfaction
Big cities might be more glamorous, but they don't have the quiet charm and beauty of rural America
by Derek Wehrwein
Issue date: 1/13/09
Section: Voices
I've gotten used to people my age pining for the big city. Most seem to want to live in one. I've gotten used to people my age complaining about small towns. Most seem to think there's nothing to do in them.
I've gotten used to these things and in a way I can understand them. In fact, I was once like that, too. One autumn when I was about 10, my younger brother and I had the opportunity to ride in a combine with a local farmer. I remember another farmer telling us at the time, "We'll make country boys out of you yet!" And I replied, "Not me, I'm a city kid."
At the time, I believed it. I had spent the first seven years of my life in Rochester and Austin, Minn., and when my family moved to Sanborn, Minn., a small town in the middle of nowhere, I distinctly remember considering myself a city kid. Small town rural life, I knew, was not for me.
These days I smile when I hear people refer to places such as Mankato or Austin as small towns. People don't have a true grasp of what a small town is until they've lived in a place like Sanborn, population 434.
When I lived there, downtown consisted of one street with a post office, a café, a bar, a bank, a mom-and-pop grocery store and a couple of rundown, empty storefronts.
Otherwise, the town had a gas station, a Dairy Queen, a ballroom called the Rope 'N Spur, a restaurant, a grain elevator, a hardware store, a fertilizer plant, a meat market, a baseball diamond and a school.
That was about it. With the exception of the restaurant, Dairy Queen and gas station, which were actually a mile or so outside of town, I could reach all of the above locations on my bike in virtually seconds.
I lived in Sanborn for four years before my family moved to New Ulm, another place most consider a small town (population 13,594). Naturally, most students I knew there couldn't wait to leave New Ulm. They wanted to live someplace bigger, more exciting, with more opportunities and more things to do.
I hear the same thing from many young people today in Mankato. The idea of living in rural America is repugnant to them. In fact, many people seem to look down at small town folks, viewing them as hillbillies and hicks and sheltered people.
Small town folks are indeed sheltered. They're sheltered from the crime that tends to plague big cities, as well as the pollution, the ridiculously heavy traffic, the noise, the high cost of living, the stressful pace of life, the people everywhere, the hustling and bustling and sirens, horns, skyscrapers, sprawl and general chaos.
Some people might prefer those things, but I prefer other things. I like green grass and gardens and birds and big backyards. I like stepping out of the house at night and hearing the sound of crickets, not the sound of traffic. I like knowing every nook and cranny and side street a town contains, and not having to worry about traffic when I open the car door each day.
I like being able to watch the quiet sunrises and sunsets. I like driving on the deserted back roads and seeing the grain elevators, the farms, the rolling fields and the groves of trees.
I like the feeling of small town life. It's a slower pace of life. People know each other and are more polite to each other and value friendship and community, and you feel safe walking downtown no matter what time it is. Small towns may not have the most exciting nightlife or the biggest malls or the best shopping, but most small towns have something I value more: a sense of community, culture and history and a feeling of togetherness and peacefulness.
Unfortunately, most small towns - including Sanborn and, some worry, New Ulm - are slowly dying. The mom-and-pop grocery store in Sanborn closed soon after we moved away. The school now sits empty. Parents aren't having as many children anymore, and the children they do have are leaving in droves for bigger cities, attracted by the glamour and opportunity.
Life may indeed be more glamorous in a big city and filled with more career opportunities. Maybe one day I'll succumb to those things as well. But for now, I treasure the time I spend in small town and rural America.
It turns out that farmer was right - they made a country boy of me after all.
Derek Wehrwein is the Reporter editor in chief
I've gotten used to these things and in a way I can understand them. In fact, I was once like that, too. One autumn when I was about 10, my younger brother and I had the opportunity to ride in a combine with a local farmer. I remember another farmer telling us at the time, "We'll make country boys out of you yet!" And I replied, "Not me, I'm a city kid."
At the time, I believed it. I had spent the first seven years of my life in Rochester and Austin, Minn., and when my family moved to Sanborn, Minn., a small town in the middle of nowhere, I distinctly remember considering myself a city kid. Small town rural life, I knew, was not for me.
These days I smile when I hear people refer to places such as Mankato or Austin as small towns. People don't have a true grasp of what a small town is until they've lived in a place like Sanborn, population 434.
When I lived there, downtown consisted of one street with a post office, a café, a bar, a bank, a mom-and-pop grocery store and a couple of rundown, empty storefronts.
Otherwise, the town had a gas station, a Dairy Queen, a ballroom called the Rope 'N Spur, a restaurant, a grain elevator, a hardware store, a fertilizer plant, a meat market, a baseball diamond and a school.
That was about it. With the exception of the restaurant, Dairy Queen and gas station, which were actually a mile or so outside of town, I could reach all of the above locations on my bike in virtually seconds.
I lived in Sanborn for four years before my family moved to New Ulm, another place most consider a small town (population 13,594). Naturally, most students I knew there couldn't wait to leave New Ulm. They wanted to live someplace bigger, more exciting, with more opportunities and more things to do.
I hear the same thing from many young people today in Mankato. The idea of living in rural America is repugnant to them. In fact, many people seem to look down at small town folks, viewing them as hillbillies and hicks and sheltered people.
Small town folks are indeed sheltered. They're sheltered from the crime that tends to plague big cities, as well as the pollution, the ridiculously heavy traffic, the noise, the high cost of living, the stressful pace of life, the people everywhere, the hustling and bustling and sirens, horns, skyscrapers, sprawl and general chaos.
Some people might prefer those things, but I prefer other things. I like green grass and gardens and birds and big backyards. I like stepping out of the house at night and hearing the sound of crickets, not the sound of traffic. I like knowing every nook and cranny and side street a town contains, and not having to worry about traffic when I open the car door each day.
I like being able to watch the quiet sunrises and sunsets. I like driving on the deserted back roads and seeing the grain elevators, the farms, the rolling fields and the groves of trees.
I like the feeling of small town life. It's a slower pace of life. People know each other and are more polite to each other and value friendship and community, and you feel safe walking downtown no matter what time it is. Small towns may not have the most exciting nightlife or the biggest malls or the best shopping, but most small towns have something I value more: a sense of community, culture and history and a feeling of togetherness and peacefulness.
Unfortunately, most small towns - including Sanborn and, some worry, New Ulm - are slowly dying. The mom-and-pop grocery store in Sanborn closed soon after we moved away. The school now sits empty. Parents aren't having as many children anymore, and the children they do have are leaving in droves for bigger cities, attracted by the glamour and opportunity.
Life may indeed be more glamorous in a big city and filled with more career opportunities. Maybe one day I'll succumb to those things as well. But for now, I treasure the time I spend in small town and rural America.
It turns out that farmer was right - they made a country boy of me after all.
Derek Wehrwein is the Reporter editor in chief
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
Bronz
Bronson
posted 1/30/09 @ 11:28 AM CST
Nice Voices, Derek. Small towns have their charm and beauty...like you said, trees, grass, crickets, everything is close by...as well as the smell of cow poop, the stars in the sky, the sound of tractors on the highway, clean air, even the gossipy folks. (Continued…)
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