🪶 “Where the Road Gets Dusty and the Heart Gets Full”

By Mark Morgan

If you ask a city fella why anybody would choose a small town, they’ll stare at you like you just asked ’em to explain algebra backwards.City folks think happiness comes from tall buildings, loud sirens, and paying fifteen dollars for a cup of coffee so small you need a magnifying glass to find it.

But out here in small-town country—where the roads get dusty, the hills get rowdy, and the neighbors know more about your life than your doctor—we’ve always known better.

 “Son, big cities are like two-dollar haircuts—fast, fancy, and you’ll regret ’em before you get home.”

That’s what I I’ve allways heard.

The Roads That Make You a Believer

Small towns are stitched together with dirt roads that were never meant for sissies or sedans. They twist, climb, drop, and rattle like they’re trying to shake the truth out of you.

Take Tickle Belly Hill, for instance—just outside Waldron, on the way to Heavner, Oklahoma.That hill used to drop so sudden your stomach would fly up and introduce itself to your tonsils. Kids begged to go over it again, mamas prayed we wouldn’t, and daddies drove it anyway just to “test the shocks.”

Try finding that kind of entertainment in a city.There, the only thing that’ll make your stomach drop is opening the electric bill.

The People Who Wave at Strangers Like Kin

In big cities, folks dodge eye contact like it’s a bad insurance salesman. You smile at someone, and they clutch their purse like you’re about to ask for a loan.

But here?We wave at every passing car like they’re blood kin—even if we don’t know if it’s a cousin, a neighbor, or a lost tourist trying to escape GPS signals.

 “If you don’t wave, they’ll think you’re either mad, sick, or dead—so wave anyhow.”

It’s just the rules.

The Kind of Fun You Can’t Put a Price On

Small-town kids grow up with the kind of entertainment money can’t buy and lawyers can’t approve.

We had:

• Fireflies for night-lights

• Creeks for swimming pools

• Softball games where you could outrun the umpire

• Barns for hide-and-seek

• Bikes that rattled like a toolbox on wheels

• And dirt roads that would fishtail just enough to make you believe in prayer

We weren’t bored—we were busy.Busy being kids.

As my friend said, “If that don’t toughen you up, you’re softer then shoe leather in a rainstorm.”

Emergencies, Small-Town Style

Cities have 911.We have neighbors, cousins, church folks, and the sacred art of hollering across the yard.

A siren in a big city means somebody bought a new set of problems.A siren in a small town means, “Call Betty—she’ll know what’s going on.”

And she does.

Betty always knows.

The Sounds of Home

City noise is all honking, yelling, and people arguing with their GPS.

But small towns?We got the greatest hits album of America:

• Gravel crunching under tires

• Screen doors slamming like they got something to say

• Crickets performing the night shift

• Church bells ringing whether you’re ready or not

• The moo of a cow who definitely thinks she’s in charge

• The hush of a whole town getting quiet at dusk

It’s a symphony you can’t buy on vinyl.

Why We Stay

Folks stay in small towns because it’s safe, simple, slow, and full of good people.

We know every face at the football game.We know every name at church.We know who made the casserole, who fixed the fence, and who needs a prayer this week.

In a world that’s moving faster than common sense, small towns remind you that life ain’t supposed to be a race.

“Son, big cities might have more people, but small towns have more neighbors.”

The Moral of It All

Small towns may not have skyscrapers, fancy restaurants, or traffic lights you can’t count on both hands.But they have heart.They have history.They have hills that’ll tickle your belly, neighbors who wave even if they don’t like you, and a peace you won’t find in ten thousand city blocks.

Life here is simple.Life here is slower.And life here is good.

“If you’re lookin’ for heaven on earth, start where the dirt roads begin.”