Many years ago, my folks were on a meandering cross-country trip on what were then known as the blue highways. Far from the interstates and the impersonal travel stops marked in red on those old folding maps, on blue highways they found themselves spending the summer poking around in small towns mostly left behind by the rush of our so-called modern times.

There they met quiet people and rummaged through old barns and antique stores, which is something they enjoyed doing for a time.

(0) comments

Welcome to the discussion.

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK.
Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person.
Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.

Post a comment
Stop watching this discussion.