If you’re a lover of ham, bacon, etc. then I’m sure you’ve heard of Smithfield hams. I lived in the small town from 1978 to 1984. At that time it was the place I had lived the longest and consider it my childhood home.

Sunday night I took a drive and ended up here. Guess I was wanting to visit the past.

Everything was quiet. Almost everything was closed except for the George Washington Inn. However, I felt safe being alone in the street and for a few moments life felt normal.

Funny. As a child I hated it here. I wanted to live in a city with things to do. I wanted to live closer to the ocean. Now there are times I find I wouldn’t mind living here.

Small town America. Probably the most authentic part of our culture to this day. It’s the heart and soul of the country I would say.

Don’t know what the future holds for this little town. Chinese owns the ham companies. I’ve heard the slaughter houses are closing.

That’s the price of progress or the price of selling off the country’s soul for a few pieces of silver?

The town has done a nice job transforming Main Street. Further down there are old homes that were private residences. Most were run down. Now you have some bed and breakfasts and other small shops that draw the out of towners at certain times of the year.

No matter how much you would things to be like they once were, the past is in the past.

And the past wasn’t as wonderful as our minds would like to make it compared to today.

It’s because we loved it and think it’s a place to hide from the unknown because we already know what happened in this time or place. Compared to looking at a future full of unknowns.