Saturday, July 5, 2014


Western Kansas has a lot of small towns that aren't much more than a co-op, a church or two, and perhaps a couple of businesses.

Mingo was one of these. We didn't see any businesses, but it definitely had a grain elevator and a small church.

Sometimes, I get depressed by towns like this one. They're growing smaller each day, and before too long, perhaps no one will be left. It feels like the life is slowly draining out of them, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop the trend.

But to stop there is to forget that these towns are populated by a heroic people.

Farmers, ranchers, teachers, business owners, and many others are still there, and they will hang on to the end. Like the stalwart defenders at the Alamo or the 300 Spartans at Thermopylae, these folks aren't contented to go gentle into that good night.

They are determined to keep living on their ancestral land, to keep sowing and harvesting, and, in short, to keep doing what they can to maintain the way of life they love.

And dedication like that, my friends, is something worth driving out to Mingo to see.

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