Editor's note: Author Nancy Messerly grew up on her parents' farm in Lancaster, Ohio, just about a mile from the South Central Power Company office. As a child, she rode her bike up the big hill, carrying her family's power bill and her mom's check, to turn in their payment. Mr. Brown, at the office, would give her a lollipop for the ride home. Today she's a retired human resources professional living in Grandview Heights, Ohio, who enjoys reading, gardening, and road trips. She shares this story of two recent road trips that were inspired by her childhood experiences. Many of us call small towns home, but we still like to travel across the state to visit others, knowing we'll be welcomed with open arms and warm smiles. What are your favorite small towns in Ohio? What is it about them that makes them so special?
My mom and dad loved road trips. They often took us kids on Sunday drives into other counties and towns all across Ohio. Combining scenery, history, and a lot of patience on their part, they helped open our eyes to what we have in common with others all over the state. So, it’s no surprise to my siblings and friends that I love to meander on back roads, or as Erika Owen, author of The Art of Flaneuring puts it, “to wander with intention.”
On a recent jaunt to Johnstown, my friend (another Nancy) asked, “Where first?” We didn’t come with a plan. We would figure one out. As coffee gals, we immediately spotted The Hot Spot Coffee House and ventured in. It was a quaint, old house with wide wood beam floors, painted archways over the entrance to every room, and cozy, eclectic furnishings. As we oohed and ahhed over the architectural loveliness, looking for a spot to sit, I walked into one room only to find myself in an office, whose occupant looked up and greeted me with a smile. “Hi. Come in. Look around. I do the books for this business and my office is right in the house!”
We didn’t find a seat, so we ventured up to Main Street. There we found The Dashing Diner, calling to our hungry stomachs. We walked in, and the smells were heavenly, but what really got our attention was the chalkboard behind the counter. Each employee had printed their name and any nicknames they go by, and then stated how they were related to the owners: “Mom and Boss Lady,” “Cuz” (cousin), “Cuz, cuz, cuz” (that’s a third cousin), “Aunt,” and even, “I’ve been adopted into the family tree!” As we stood to pay our bills, we saw an empty booth with a little wire basket fastened to the wall, holding a few coffee mugs. Strapped to the wire basket was a little plastic soldier, about two inches high. Our puzzled looks brought forth an explanation from the cashier: “That’s where the four old guys sit every morning to have coffee.” Enough said.
A trip to Fredericktown with my great-nephew and his sister riding along, brought us to The Homestead Family Restaurant. We seated ourselves in a small booth and ordered orange juice for them and coffee for me. Our smiling waitress (also the owner) soon brought two tall soda glasses of juice and a steaming mug to our table. I teased the kids that they couldn’t possibly drink all the juice in their glasses. They looked determined, but then my great-nephew observed: “I think your mug holds more than our glasses.” The waitress was called. “Which holds more?” we asked. She stood stock still, smiled, and said, “I have no idea, but let’s find out!” She whisked into the kitchen and back, with a soda glass of water and an empty mug. Each of us gave our decision on which would hold more. The mug won. The waitress smiled, carried the experiment away, and soon brought our breakfast. But not before my great-nephew, a 10-year old sage, commented, “I don’t think other places would do that for you.” I told him I didn’t think so either.
Small towns have big hearts. People who take time. To welcome you. To let you look around (and even barge into their office). To answer your niggling questions. I’ve learned through my meanderings that small towns aren’t small at all. They’re quite large, some of them, when it comes to friendliness.
