Yesterday my wife and I traveled to see Wilson’s Creek Battlefield and I was once again impressed by the apparent prosperity of Springfield Missouri.
All my life I can remember, Springfield has been prosperous but not even close to as wealthy as today.
There is a new travel center called Buc-ee’s there, which rivals the pyramids of Gaza, and they don’t allow big semi trucks at all.

The “rest room crew” pays ten times what I earned scooping manure out of the Cattleman’s Auction Company fifty years ago (part time) and I had an excellent job then at $2 an hour.

Also in Springfield is a huge French’s Mustard plant, an Amazon warehouse as big as a ball stadium, and other manufacturing and service businesses on both sides of the interstate for miles upon miles. Most of them have help wanted signs, sometimes on big lit up billboards.
Fifty years ago the old men lined the buyer’s catwalks above us boys working below them and talked about how lazy young people were and how it was impossible to hire good help and how there was sure to be a crash that would make the Great Depression look prosperous by comparison, and they were dead wrong about Springfield, but gradually right about Humansville.
If a young person was lucky enough to be raised right, not get all messed up with wild women or bad companions or drugs and had a reliable vehicle, and was in good health, they should be just fine in Springfield Missouri.
If they had the blessing and privilege of a high school diploma from a truly crackerjack school like I enjoyed in Humansville they’d wind up making two hundred thousand dollars a year managing some place like Buck-ee’s.
No wonder all the little Humansvilles are hopeless islands of despair and poverty.
Good schools and good roads are killing rural America, because kids move to the Springfields, you know?
All my life I can remember, Springfield has been prosperous but not even close to as wealthy as today.
There is a new travel center called Buc-ee’s there, which rivals the pyramids of Gaza, and they don’t allow big semi trucks at all.

The “rest room crew” pays ten times what I earned scooping manure out of the Cattleman’s Auction Company fifty years ago (part time) and I had an excellent job then at $2 an hour.

Also in Springfield is a huge French’s Mustard plant, an Amazon warehouse as big as a ball stadium, and other manufacturing and service businesses on both sides of the interstate for miles upon miles. Most of them have help wanted signs, sometimes on big lit up billboards.
Fifty years ago the old men lined the buyer’s catwalks above us boys working below them and talked about how lazy young people were and how it was impossible to hire good help and how there was sure to be a crash that would make the Great Depression look prosperous by comparison, and they were dead wrong about Springfield, but gradually right about Humansville.
If a young person was lucky enough to be raised right, not get all messed up with wild women or bad companions or drugs and had a reliable vehicle, and was in good health, they should be just fine in Springfield Missouri.
If they had the blessing and privilege of a high school diploma from a truly crackerjack school like I enjoyed in Humansville they’d wind up making two hundred thousand dollars a year managing some place like Buck-ee’s.
No wonder all the little Humansvilles are hopeless islands of despair and poverty.
Good schools and good roads are killing rural America, because kids move to the Springfields, you know?
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