This rickety building occupies a prominent spot in the tiny rural town about 12 miles NE of Black Fox. Sometimes after a long afternoon of working in the heat, we’ll drive up the road for an early dinner at the Amish restaurant.
It sits behind the railroad tracks.
To its left is an Amish bakery.
To its right is the local family practice, housed in a trailer.
Beyond it lies main street, about a block long, with the Fourth of July American Flags still flapping lazily in the breeze.
Whenever we pass by this spot, I look at the old rusting sign and wonder how many trains it has counted as they’ve passed by, how many generations it has seen in its lifetime.
Its rusting corrugated sides remind me of an antique patchwork quilt.
Lonely old buildings are one of the many things I love about tiny rural towns.