Just as a coda to the Ozarks circa the Great Depression, the last time I was in my dad’s hometown, the little town square which had formerly housed a series of down and out businesses - a dusty Five and Dime, an old lady dress shop featuring strange double polyester frocks, etc - had been renovated to the point that the place was almost unrecognizable. We ate at a cozy cafe that served wine and tapas - this is the same town where the best restaurant used to be a barn like building that served fried chicken and curly fries. I understand that the state of Missouri has a program to build bike paths through the little villages there and that now there are a series of quaint little boutiques and coffee shops where once the little girl in the picture lived.
