Along Old May Road

There’s a slow rhythm to a small Texas town on a Saturday morning. The lazy waves of neighbors and friends stopping to pass the time of day, grandparents and grandchildren riding in to gas up the old farm truck–these things bring me a quiet sense of peace. All is well in the world when a dusty tractor is meandering along in front of me on these slow paced mornings, taking life easy after a hard week of work. I am happy to oblige.

In fact, in the smaller communities, many ways of living, including the old-fashioned ways of Saturday morning visits and gossips, aren’t much different than they were in October of 1894, when a special correspondent for the

Brownwood Bulletin

drove his horse and buggy along probably what is now Old May Road, from Brownwood to May and wrote

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