Small Town America - An Intimate Portrait
It is 8:00 am. I awake to the church bells downtown playing the hymns that I grew up on and I smile finding myself feeling so blessed to be here. Atlanta, GA is my home, but you can find my husband and I in Blue Ridge, GA on the weekends.
Blue Ridge, is a beautiful mountain town that has taken a hold of my heart and has shown me the true meaning of community. In an age where technology dominates, it is nice to escape to a place where people take the time to connect, where striking up a conversation takes the place of a cell phone, small businesses thrive, and locals and tourists are all welcome.
I ride my bike to Main Street to join the hundreds of people, young and old, anxiously awaiting the arrival of our annual Fourth of July parade. This parade is officially called the "Old Timers Parade” to celebrate old time Blue Ridge. It is always held on a Saturday because in the "old days" that was the only day the farmers would make the trip to town.
As I am greeted by beautiful friends whom I am so proud to call family, a young girl in pig tails screams "I can see the police cars, the parade is about to start!". People are proudly holding the American flag and displaying their red, white and blue,
Miss Fannin County MS rides in an open top with her tiara,
marching bands play patriotic tunes,
and local churches, charities and politicians wave and throw candy to the crowd thanking them for their support.
EVERYONE... has a smile on their face.
As the parade goes by a friend of mine across the street looks at me and says what I am thinking, "I love this town". It dawns on me that this was as close as I would get to a modern-day Norman Rockwell portrait and I felt so proud to call America my home.
