November 25th
The train rolls through the backside of cities, past loading docks of old industrial buildings adorned with faded painted monikers and fresh graffiti. Heading out of Dallas-Fort Worth, under the gleaming skyline, we pass the common visage of suburban growth: curving cul-de-sacs lined with crisp new homes and newly-planted twig trees across a fence from sagging clapboard colonials heavy with leaves beneath mature oaks.

Our route is dotted with quaint and quiet Mayberry’s telling the tale of a pre-urban America. Little train stations still serve the once bustling towns, and a few cars line up at the crossings when we pass. I can’t help but dream of life there. So many sweet small towns far enough away from the freeway to be spared the curse of Wal-Mart-ization. What are the stories of those who live here? How do they make their living? What would life be like so far from the frenetic noise of the city?