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I got off of the four lane freeway on Friday. I traveled through the remains and remnants of Iowaà ‚¬ „ s past that somehow survive in the present.
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During travel between Cedar Rapids and Mount Pleasant to pick up a friend arriving from the West Coast via cross-continental rail, I drove through Crawfordsville, Iowa. What once had been one of Iowaà ‚¬ „ s one thousand self-sufficient towns is now almost a ghost town.
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There are still plenty of people alive and well in Crawfordsville, but the businesses that once served them are mostly dead. There is no grocery store. There is no gas station. There is no Main Street Cafà © to get the morning news with your morning coffee.Â
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What remains are a cluster of comfy, modest homes, a bank branch and a church. Thankfully, there is a post office to maintain a living link with the rest of humanity.
Fortunately, there is an elementary school. Without the peal of laughter from a crew of kids in the schoolyard getting the place ready for fall class, this town would feel eerily ghostly; devoid of human voiceà ‚¬ ¦ a silent soundstage for a re-run of T.V.à ‚¬ „ s Twilight Zone.
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At one time, Crawfordsville had it all; places to work, cafesà ‚¬ „ for chatter, the local grocer and barber, a place to gas up the car to get you on down the road. Crawfordsville and a thousand other dying Iowa towns once were self-sufficient centers of human life. You could work, worship, recreate, and purchase everything that you really need every day of your life without going anywhere else.  At that point in time, road travel was one of lifeà ‚¬ „ s pleasures, not an absolute necessity for survival.
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