We talk so often about the divide that is slowly happening in the United States as a result of socioeconomic forces. I did a double take this afternoon when I came across the front page of The Wall Street Journal involving a story based on this reality. It has a profile detailing how vastly different life experiences are causing two Americas, with nothing in common, to split from each other. As a case study, it compares Kansas City to a small, little-known, middle-of-nowhere town called El Dorado Springs.
Without El Dorado Springs, I would not exist. I mean that literally. That town played a huge role in my father’s side of the family and was responsible for my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents, meeting.
My Family’s History with El Dorado Springs
My grandmother grew up there, and her father owned half the land on the main stretch of highway around the time of the Great Depression, from which he operated a service station. Whenever we go to grandma’s house, she has these voluminous tomes of photographs, some going back to the 1800’s, that we go through and she explains who is who, what they did, and how we are tied to them. She helped her dad sell fruit and sundries, grew into an adult, joined the local basketball team, and, finally, met my grandpa Dennis. They were married as teenagers, then left for Walnut Creek, California, where he started a demolition company. For ten or fifteen years, they raised their family in the suburb of San Francisco.
[mainbodyad]Later, grandpa got homesick and wanted to return to El Dorado Springs to be near his parents. He moved the family back to Missouri, with the two eldest sons staying out in California as they were now adults. My father was a freshman, so he returned with them, transferring to El Dorado Springs High, from which he graduated. Later, my dad met my mom in Warrensburg, they were married almost immediately and had me a year later, when he was 23 years old. Meanwhile, my grandma started a sporting goods business in El Dorado Springs to lure back one of her two eldest sons, going into partnership with him and setting up shop on the town square.
When I was 7 or 8 years old, my dad moved back to El Dorado Springs to be near his family. My siblings and I attended a private Christian school, where reading the Bible was taught alongside social studies and math. I once posted pictures of my first grade lunch, which were memorable to me because every single day, my mom would hide a note in my lunchbox telling me how much she loved me, was proud of me, and how I could be or do anything I wanted. The picture of my brother as a kid, when I wrote about his wedding, was taken on the playground in El Dorado Springs.
Some of my most wonderful, cherished memories happened in that town. Even though my parents were young, broke, and struggling, it was a magical time. We lived in a little house on West Joe Davis street. It was my siblings and I playing Nintendo, going over to our cousins’ house for movie night, playing t-ball (in fact, if you go to the local Pogo’s Pizza, you can still find my team photo on the wall along with generations of other El Dorado Springs kids), or learning to swim in the town pool, which my grandfather built. We had no idea how hard it was for my mom and dad during this period, as they hid their struggles from us. We found out later that this was the Christmas when money was so tight they could only afford to give us a single gift, so my mom went into the kitchen and sobbed. We were clueless. (Appropriately enough, this was the Christmas I was given Scrooge McDuck’s Ducktales for NES, the symmetry of which I now find amusing).
The house wasn’t this color when I was growing up …. being the late 1980’s, it was a dark brown, like so many things in that era.
This was a town where my life was nothing but Jesus meetings, Amy Grant and Carmen music, school musicals, family get-togethers, tagging along with my dad at the golf course, or going with my mom to Simone’s drive-in during the afternoon to enjoy some of the best waffle fries and cherry slushies ever made on Earth. It was as idyllic as you can imagine. It’s where dad would come into my room at night and sneak me out to the El Dorado Springs picnic, a traveling carnival that came through, staying up late, riding rides, and trying to win prizes. It was a life that was so protected, and so insulated, now that I am older and realize how bad the world is for a lot of people, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that I was brought up in such a bubble. My parents were exceptional.
I’ve eaten at some of the most expensive restaurants in the United States and I’d choose this place every time. Getting in the car with my mom, going down and ordering waffle fries and a cherry slushie … life could not have been better for a 7-8 year old because there would almost always be some sort of Church social or hanging out with cousins playing video games. It and Pogo’s Pizza are magical to me.
The Wall Street Journal’s Breakdown of the El Dorado Springs Demographic
These broader socioeconomic forces have left El Dorado Springs a very different place than it was when I was growing up. As The Wall Street Journal explains:
EL DORADO SPRINGS, Mo.—The owner of the nicest restaurant in town doesn’t serve alcohol, worried that his pastor would be disappointed if he did. Public schools try to avoid scheduling events on Wednesday evenings, when churches hold Bible study. And Democrats here are a rare and lonely breed.
Older, nearly 100% white and overwhelmingly Republican, El Dorado Springs is typical of what is now small-town America. Coffee costs 90 cents at the diner, with free refills. Two hours north and a world away in Kansas City, Starbucks charges twice that, and voters routinely elect Democrats.
There have always been differences between rural and urban America, but they have grown vast and deep, and now are an underappreciated factor in dividing the U.S. political system, say politicians and academicians.
It goes on to break down the households (median income of $31,677, retail sales per capita of $8,694, declining, aging population), and interviewing a local high school student who, like everyone before him, now wants to flee rather than staying in El Dorado Springs.
Ben Vickers, age 17, is a local high school star, participating in band, choir, quiz bowl, theater, speech and debate. Ben loves the farm where he grew up but longs for a city—a place, he said, where he will find more points of view and more people who support Mr. Obama, as he does.
“In El Dorado Springs, you’re either a teacher, you work at a gas station, you work at a restaurant, most likely McDonald’s or Sonic,” he said.
Still, Ben and other residents appreciate their community ties. High-school teacher Tracy Barger recalled how after her 16-year-old son died in a car accident in 2012, four pastors were at the hospital that night. Later, she said, “one of the banks in town brought us a lunch. We don’t even bank there.”
And that last paragraph? That’s the thing. That’s the magic. That’s what I loved about that place. Sure, the last time I was surrounded by people from El Dorado Springs a few months ago – people I love – I sat and listened to them have a serious conversation about the fact that the only reason President Obama hadn’t been assassinated was because he must be protected by some sort of demonic covenant with Satan that protects him (they were being serious; they actually believe he’s somehow communing with dark spirits in the White House and that his entire administration is a plot by Lucifer to bring about the end times, even though they can’t actually explain any of the policy differences they have with him and he’s slightly to the right of Bill Clinton, with whom they have far fewer objections).
[mainbodyad]I know they sound crazy, like a bunch of backwater, superstitious tribal people sitting around their hut spreading lambs’ blood for protection against unseen forces. They feel like the entire world has changed, and they vastly underestimate how radical their ideas of “normal” now are in America. They talk about how “the elite” look down on them – and they do. They aren’t imagining it, and they are clueless as to the reason. These are people who are terrified to let their children watch Harry Potter because it might tempt their kids into becoming witches. Is it any wonder the smart kids don’t stick around to build the community but instead move to Kansas City or another metropolitan area? You can’t take a young man or woman with a decently high IQ and get him or her to buy into that, no matter how much they are subjected to it.
But, still … if you live in a community like that, and you’re part of a community like that, there’s an extended family effect that protects you, comforts you, assists you, and is there for you. People actually know what is going on in your life. This can be problematic when you don’t fit the expected mold, but in a majority of cases, the benefits are hard to overstate. It’s wonderful.
I was in El Dorado Springs a few years ago for my grandfather’s funeral. I still remember watching my dad stand over his father’s casket, in this town where generations of Kennons had been born, raised, and died, when it hit me that someday, I would be in that same position, looking down on him. I walked outside the funeral home and fell apart. But the next morning, after the service was held, everyone went to the local church and people I hadn’t seen in 20 years came up to me, knew exactly who I was, and were telling me stories about my family that I had never heard. Aunts and uncles were introducing great aunts and great uncles, second cousins, and roundabout in-laws.
There was a consistency, a comfort, and a realness to it that doesn’t exist many other places, that seems to last forever. When I called my dad and began reading the article, I’d mention a last name, and he’d know who I was talking about, “Oh, yeah, that was Jack’s boy or grandson. He’d be in his 40’s now,” or “I bet that’s such-and-such’s cousin. That would be about the right age.”
Sixty years ago, if I had been born in El Dorado Springs, I probably never would have left. Today, I don’t see how it survives long-term looking at the data and trends that are causing the best and brightest to up and move the moment they have a high school diploma in their hands. Yet, incentive systems matter and those young people are doing what is best for them, and their future families. And it’s all due to economics. Or, as the Journal puts it:
Rural economies have faltered as automated farming and corporate ventures subsumed many family farms. Cutbacks in manufacturing have cost jobs, and fewer jobs mean fewer opportunities for young people, driving away those with more skills and education.
Without new arrivals, these aging regions have grown more insulated from cultural change—whether the use of smartphones or the acceptance of same-sex marriage.
[snip]
With few jobs waiting for young people after college, adults in town assume most won’t return to start their own families after graduation. The exodus has left the town older and more conservative.
Some of my best traits, work habits, and beliefs were instilled in me in that tiny town. It was there I learned that you don’t lie, you don’t cheat, family matters more than anything, and you have to make time for the rituals, like the baseball games or the town get-togethers, because those are the memories you’ll keep with you. A huge part of what makes me me, and what lies behind my success, was forged in El Dorado Springs. It’s hard to think that by the time I’m my dad’s age, it will be gone.
I think it’s a tragedy. America will have lost something valuable when towns like it cease to exist as they once were, but on the other hand, it’s also gained something wonderful. Who can argue that Silicon Valley in California and the medical sector in Boston aren’t doing more good for humanity? Those $4 latte-sipping, cashmere-wearing liberals are the one healing people and improving the world. Having straddled both, I think there are lessons each could learn from the other. I feel fortunate that I got to experience it, myself. I worry my own future children will be poorer for never knowing anything but affluence and communities where success is taken for granted.
Take a moment to read the article, which is called City vs. Country: How Where We Live Deepens the Nation’s Political Divide: Differences Between Rural and Urban America Are Underappreciated Factor in Political Split.
Reader Comments (39)
Comments are presented chronologically, with replies indented beneath the comments to which they respond.
mikecrosby
March 22, 2014
I grew up in not as simple, wonderful world such as that, but I did get to be a kid. Building treeforts, exploring, wondering, being mischievous--denied children today.
Joshua
March 22, 2014
"I think it’s a tragedy. America will have lost something valuable when towns like it cease to exist as they once were, but on the other hand, it’s also gained something wonderful."
I think the tragedy is that towns like this have already ceased to exist as they once were.
EMBO
March 22, 2014
We, as parents...our generation is largely to blame. We want to have our cake and eat it too. We remember all the good qualities about growing up in that type of environment, but we also remember our yearning to get out of there and put ourselves in a position to do more, learn more, and be more. We straddle a line...we wouldn't give up our small town upbringing for anything, and yet, we know we wouldn't go back, because our lives would be so vastly different.
Now that we're parents, we wish so badly that our kids could grow up in that environment. And we worry that they won't have the same qualities and sense of community and family that we had instilled in us because we don't raise them in a small town. But on the other side of the coin, we, the "selfish parents", still want to live in our suburbs and cities, because that's what we worked for. It's what we wanted. We want the convenience that those places bring...that we worked our whole lives to be successful enough to afford. So who wins out? The parents or the kids?
We can't have it both ways. We can't live in our Utopian small towns and still enjoy the excitement and opportunity of the cities and suburbs we worked hard to get to. Those places don't afford the type of lifestyle that we ALSO want to provide for our kids, a lifestyle of participation in lots of activities and sports, being able to see lots of exciting things, and having lots of opportunities to grow. For all the good things a small town has, many of those special activities and opportunities don't exist there.
In the end, as it has been for generations, it is ultimately still up to the parents to raise their children to value hard work, honestly, integrity, and doing the right thing. I'll admit freely that many days I don't know what I'm doing as a parent. I don't know if it's the right thing or not. I just wing it and do my best. All of us do. And just like our parents before us, we will all get through it, and for the most part, even though they don't do everything you want them to do, the kids will turn out fine. And in many years, they will be struggling with these same types of questions, in an entirely new context.
And we'll still shake our heads and remember how easy it was back when we were parents. 🙂
Jeff
November 1, 2015
Replying to EMBO
I don't accept that you can't "have it both ways". Why can't you create a network of like minded people to make a "small town" in the "big city"?.
I've often learned, played, worked, and lived a more solitary life than the people around me. I'm now able to see the downsides of that. I think there should be a way to have the better parts of a "small town" in a larger culture.
Anon
March 22, 2014
I especially liked the parts about your forefathers/history and your life growing up. It was very interesting and very different from mine.
peterpatch79
March 22, 2014
I have lived in everything from a small city to the biggest cities in the world (Osaka and Toronto). I grew up in a small city and even though it's probably way bigger then El Dorado Springs the same thing is happening. You used to graduate high school ( or drop out) and go work at the GE plant, Quaker Oats plant or possibly some smaller enterprise. You would work there your whole life and then retire on a traditional DB pension. From the cradle to the grave you were part of that city. My Grandfather and many of my other relatives took this path. As soon as I graduated University I left that city and I will probably only go back to visit relatives. Due to factors like automation, urbanization and globalization those jobs are rare and the wages aren't keeping up with inflation. The community grows older and amongst the younger population dumber each year.
Anonano
March 22, 2014
Josh, the flip side of the community that's there for you is that if you weren't a part of it--gay, Jewish (like my family), or just different--then the community would just as easily reject you.
I'm sure you've read the numerous studies that have been done showing how there is less trust with more diversity, less compassion with the rise of the so-called meritocratic class, etc.
The question is, can community leaders find a way to bring people together despite their differences? I've often thought of the Constitution as such a unifier, since people could come from around the world and believe in ideals based on freedom rather than a particular religion or politics.
(Also, on a separate note Josh, I sent you a long email a while ago with a lot of questions...wonder if you'd be getting around to it any time soon? 🙂
Dave
March 22, 2014
Replying to Anonano
Great post, Joshua.
It actually saddened me a bit though. Every time (and it seems more and more often the more years go by), I think about my childhood town and how it, and America, and people have changed, I can't believe what a downward slide we are on. Nothing seems wholesome or important to people, as once it was. Well at least some of us got to experience just what you are talking about.
Hey, how do I go about sending you a direct qustion to maybe answer on this blog?
"mailbag question" ? (sorry for my computer illiteracy about direct contact)
Dave
Anon
March 22, 2014
Replying to Dave
https://www.joshuakennon.com/contact-the-site/
Dave
March 23, 2014
Replying to Anon
Thank you anon!!
Caleb Kennon
March 22, 2014
Fact: Simone's is the best burger joint in the history of America, and will be forever.
Pogo's is awesome too, they still have our old t-ball pictures on the wall.
Bob rice
March 24, 2014
Joshua, everything you said is true but I can say almost the exact same thing about growing up in the city of Cleveland . Our small towns were the neighborhood you grew up in and the factories in it and the "good" jobs and pay that went with it. Most of that is gone now . But the most important part of your childhood was not the place it was family ! Without family you don't have anything.
Joe
March 26, 2014
Instead of being sad about it, why don't you do something about it. Take some of your money and build something that will keep the young kids in the town -provide jobs. A factory, a store, a hotel, a mill, a metal fabrication company, etc. Or use part of your influence in the companies you own stock in to help bring jobs into that town.
You could also create an endowment to create a small college that could grow into a university over time. The money from the endowment would provide jobs in the college and in time the college would be able to fund research teams and research projects similar to how a larger university would. That's a way to keep the smart people there in town.
Create an organization made up of some of these 'smart people' that still live or have lived in El Dorado Springs that want to ensure that it doesn't die. Have the organization's primary focus be to ensure that the town survives, by increasing the quality of life in the town -keeping the younger kids there so that way-of-life continues. This can be done a number of ways as mentioned above.
The biggest hurdle would not be that the town could be reborn and start to thrive, it would be that it would grow and grow so fast that you would start to lose that small town feeling, that closeness that you so much enjoyed as a kid. But that's the nature of life. You're always moving in some direction. You're either growing or you're dying, you can't do both.
Just some ideas.
Travis Yeargan
November 1, 2015
Replying to Joe
Absolutely.
GK
September 11, 2014
I loved the WSJ article about Hell Dorado! Picnic 4 Life!
Joshua Kennon
September 11, 2014
Replying to GK
Hahaha, yes! The days the carnies came through town were the best days.
I've been meaning to call you because it's been too long since we last talked. A few days ago, Aaron brought the MacBook into the room to show me your amazing re-enactment of Jem and the Holograms. It was perfection. We were living for it.
Heather Howerton
November 19, 2014
I really enjoyed this post. I too grew up in ElDo. I was even in elementary school with Gabe at ECS. I have many fond memories growing up there but I still can't understand how the town survives. As much as I hate the narrow mindedness, that small town made me who I am. I grew up instilled with morals, values and good manners.
Erin Kathleen
November 1, 2015
While I can't say that I share your enthusiasm for the town, the article was well-written. I too attended the Christian school. I believe you pulled my curls in the hallway.
FratMan
November 1, 2015
Replying to Erin Kathleen
"I believe you pulled my curls in the hallway." And that is something you find necessary to share with the world at large?
Erin Kathleen
November 1, 2015
Replying to FratMan
Guess everyone has be offended by something. lol. My friend on FB shared the article and I vaugely remembered the author; we went to preschool together and I'd always have my hair curled and he'd pull on my curls when we were standing in line. Hurry up! Let's all be offended. Why couldn't I have straight hair? Or maybe brown hair? Wait, did I offend all of those in the world who are bald? Go back to your keg stands, "frat boy".
FratMan
November 1, 2015
Replying to Erin Kathleen
I'm not offended. I am questioning your motives.
There are two plausible reasons for mentioning something like that: (1) as a way to re-establish memory and re-familiarize with a connection; or (2) to publicly demean or embarrass.
If it is the first option, you could have sent Joshua a private message through his contact form. But because you chose to post it publicly, this raises the likelihood that your intent is to embarrass.
The second half of your comment is a red herring; the type of hair you have is not the issue. Instead, the issue is this: When encountering someone for the first time in decades, why do you find it wise to initialize the communication by calling forth a petty pre-adolescent grievance?
Erin Kathleen
November 1, 2015
Replying to FratMan
Not to be rude to you, but I believe I saw some of your brain cells bouncing around the frat house. Maybe (??), perhaps your free time would be better spent seeking them as I find speculation counterproductive.
Joshua Kennon
November 1, 2015
Replying to Erin Kathleen
Are you Erin Dodge from my first grade class? (If not, I apologize. If you're a different Erin, you'd have to jog my memory.)
I can't say I have any recollection of pulling your hair but I have no reason to doubt you so I formally apologize for my childhood rudeness. I can't imagine why I would have done it because I recall you being one of the nicest, most pleasant, gentlest, kindest people I've ever met. For some reason, I also associate you with your grandmother, maybe? On family day and school events, she was the one with you? ... it's been so long I could have it all jumbled up in my mind.
One thing I do know: If you are the Erin I remember, I believe you have the distinction of being immortalized in one of my childhood books my parents put together because you were the first person to ever pass me a note on the playground. My family kept almost everything from the school projects we did to the photos they took during that time in our lives so I'm sure you're in quite a few of them. They're all in storage somewhere, unlikely to see the light of day for a few decades, but I have a couple of mementos nearby. A quick trip to the downstairs library uncovered your autograph and picture from almost 25 years ago.
I imagine that if I had stayed for more than a brief window of time, I'd have felt very differently about El Dorado Springs than I do now. I was in such a protected, tight-knit, interconnected family group that most of my memories aren't necessarily of the town itself, but of adventures with my cousins or making Christmas candy, singing Christmas songs, or going to Church events. It was a world so insulated that I don't think it was a typical experience (we weren't even allowed to watch Scooby Doo because it was too "dark" for heaven's sake, haha!). It's been interesting hearing from so many people who also grew up there and didn't have a good experience. My family ended up moving to another small town, and I've written about the complex feelings that can arise from being in that type of environment when you're a bit different than the expectation, so I certainly understand.
In any event, I hope life is treating you well!
Erin Kathleen
November 1, 2015
Replying to Joshua Kennon
Yeah, ha! Haven't seen that picture in forever. Sorry if the memory embarrassed you as was postured by "Frat Man". It is one of the only memories I have due to the lack of scrapbooks/ memories I was afforded. I don't think you pulled my hair to be cruel, it was just funny that my curls were so tight that they bounced right back into place. And yes, my Grandma raised me when my Dad took off and my Mom passed away. It's good hearing from you. I hope you are doing well!
Joshua Kennon
November 1, 2015
Replying to Erin Kathleen
No worries! (And likewise, now that I re-read my comment. I was caught in a bit of nostalgia and smiling to myself as I remembered memories I had mostly forgotten, not realizing how indelicate my question about your grandma might come across because it was so long ago, all that remains are these innocent associations. Please forgive me. It was not intentional and I'm truly sorry if it was in any way insensitive.)
I'm well. Life turned out better than I could have imagined: Grew up, went off to study classical music, among other things, in college, started some successful businesses with my husband, and now spend my time as an investor putting capital to work, which is what I always wanted to do. Lots of small details in between. All of that is on the blog, though, so there's no need to rehash it here if you're interested in the specifics.
If you ever are in the mood to write, I'd be curious as to why you feel negatively toward El Dorado Springs. I'm interested in people and knowing how different your experience might have been is something I'd like to hear, if only to gain understanding from a different perspective. If you want to keep it private, you can always send me a message through this page.
In any event, I'm glad you reached out and said hello! It's been a long time and I enjoyed hearing from you!
Jessica Bishop
November 1, 2015
This town jump started my sisters drug addiction along with so many others just like her. I respect your heritage and the history El Dorado Springs has for you but it has damaged the lives of so many others just the same. I graduated from El Dorado Springs High School in May of 2006 with the lowest self esteem I had ever experienced in my life. Moving away from El Dorado Springs allowed me to find myself and make something of my life. I'm now 7 weeks away from being a college graduate with a bachelors degree in Psychology with a double minor in human services and sociology. My three children go to a school where the teachers care and discourage bullying. One man's blessing can very easily be another man's pain.
Kathie Truitt
November 1, 2015
Replying to Jessica Bishop
So this town held your sister down and force-fed her drugs? I am very sorry and am not making light of her problems. However, people make their own decisions. I grew up there (as well as my husband) and we both went on to have very successful lives. As a matter of fact, I know a lot of people who did the same. Do NOT blame it on the 'town' or it's citizens.
Joshua Kennon
November 1, 2015
Replying to Jessica Bishop
Congratulations on your success! It sounds like you have come a long way and have much about which you should be proud! There's a lot of truth in what you say; that one man's blessing can very easily be another man's pain. Though I doubt it does any good to hear it from me, I'm sorry what your family went through and hope the best for your sister. Despite the heartache you suffered in that particular environment, it sounds like you made the best of it are doing right by your children so they can have a better life.
Wendi Pyle-Fields
November 1, 2015
While I don't agree with what you have written, your story was very well written and brought up several great points.
But this town is not all the Mayberry you made it appear.
I had the unfortunate experience of growing up in this town and all it gave me was a lack of self-worth, that racism is okay, anxiety, a belief that education is undervalued and low self-esteem.
I went to El Dorado Springs public school from the time I was in kindergarten to 2005. No, I did not graduate from there. I was educated in a time where it was believed that all honors classes should be cut and the funding be given to sports education, where gifted students were told to take the classes that weren't challenging because it was an "easy A," and the math classes were severely lacking and taught by teachers that were hired to be coaches and in a passing comment were asked "hey, can you teach algebra?." As some one that was incredibly smart, I ended up dropping and perusing a college education because I realized that absolutely no one within the school district cared and could provide me with the education I so desperately craved.
Although, I've never ate at Simone's Drive Through, I've never had the desire to eat such overpriced greasy slop. I saw too many football players go over to "carb load" there before a game and I could easily understand why almost everyone in the town was so overweight. I tried to eat at Pongo's, but basically under cooked cardboard and roaches crawling across the table instantly turned me off. The other fast food places weren't even much of merit either.
I'm fortunate enough that I did not develop a drug addiction or alcoholic problem from that town, especially since the school was so rampant with it when I was fourteen, maybe it was because I left so early and never looked back. But now I get the "joy" of watching classmates Facebook pages blow up with "RIP" because they died from an apparent drug overdose.
I left that town and never looked back. In fact, I won't even visit that town. I had a family get together that required me driving through El Do and after a two hour drive, we just had to stop at Alison's gas station for a restroom break. Never would I have thought that in such a small town I would have to shield my children's eye from an overweight woman wearing short-shorts and a bra in broad daylight and soliciting sex from car to car. No, definitely not a place to raise a family or to even visit.
While you may of had a positive impact, this town has brought pain onto so many people. I am proud to say that I left that town with a social-democratic view and was taught humanity from those that tried to teach me racism.
This town will continually have the younger generation leave, there is no way to stop it, it will continue to happen until the older population dies off or realizes that their "hometown values" continually corrupt the town and set forth to try to change their old-view political thinking. However, the latter won't happen, so until then, we will just have to wait.
Kathie Truitt
November 1, 2015
Replying to Wendi Pyle-Fields
Funny. I grew up in that town (as did my grandparents, and my Dad) and I don't have a racist bone in my body. My husband also grew up there. We both grew up to be very successful people. I also dress appropriately, have never taken a drug - not one. Never. Ever. I know plenty of people that still live there just like me.
Joshua Kennon
November 2, 2015
Replying to Wendi Pyle-Fields
Thank you for taking the time to write (and welcome to the blog!). I always appreciate hearing someone else's perspective, especially when it differs from my own experience because it provides a much more nuanced and detailed understanding of the world, which I think is valuable.
As I mentioned in another comment, my family ended up moving to another small town and, due to my own, personal, history, I do understand the complexity and struggles of growing up in a place not designed to accommodate those who fall outside of an anticipated spectrum. If you're curious, you can read about it here. If not, that's okay.
That said, I think there's something in my own internal wiring that makes me a perpetual optimist. I, too, remember hearing people refer to those who went to college as "educated fools"; who mocked trying to live a better life or seek knowledge. But I try to give the people who said it the benefit of the doubt. Were they misguided? Yes. Was it malicious? I'm not sure. People often do the best they can and it frequently takes an extraordinarily high intellect or, alternatively, a special type of temperament, to look around and see things for how they are, not buying into the line you were sold from experience and indoctrination. You were fortunate enough to have that through a genetic quirk that brought together your particular neurology. If, through that genetic lottery, you had been born with a lower cognitive ability, would you feel the same way?
Is it really fair to judge others by a standard they can't hope to attain? I prefer to try to help; to say, "There is a better way, but you have the right to make a choice for your own life." For example: I, personally, couldn't care less about things like football season starting or muscle cars but there are people to whom it matters the same way I love great literature or studying history. It's not my place to denigrate or belittle their passions, especially if they creating bonding and give meaning to their lives. In fact, I love seeing their excitement. Their joy brings me joy. People are different. I know that first hand and what I want is for everyone to find whatever brings them the most joy; that allows them to look back on their life and say, "I am so grateful I got to experience this." I choose to love them; to try to find the good in them and accept them for who they are even if I don't necessarily understand what is so exciting about something.
Though we've (probably) never met, I understand you. I really do. I lived through much of what you did in the town to which we subsequently moved. I was almost entirely self-educated, the public library the sole lifeline I had for many years as I taught myself everything from GAAP rules to finance in a quest to find an escape route. I remember my seventh grade teacher holding me back from class, looking at me with this complete desperation and saying, "Joshua, you have to escape from this town. I've been doing this for my entire career and you're different. The world is your stage and you don't belong somewhere like here. People are going to read about you someday so run and don't look back." There was one semester in my schooling period where I was so bored out of my mind, my attendance record shows I wasn't present for 1 out of 3 days of class, even though I was there, off in some computer lab or the back of a study room reading biographies, accounting textbooks, and anything else I could get my hands on rather than taking some test that I could pass in my sleep from glancing over the material once. But that doesn't make me feel disdain for those people who tried to pound me into their idea of what a good life should look like. I once had a principal throw a pencil at my head in rage during a parent meeting he called with my dad because he asked what I was going to do for a living when someone saw my inability to show up on time and I told him I was so smart I'd never have to work. Looking back, I was young and foolish. There was no reason to behave that way. Even though I was right about the economic reality, he was trying, the best way he knew how, to help me. He didn't know any better, Wendi. So I'm grateful that he cared enough to try even though he was wrong. People are not perfect. I choose to forgive him. I choose to look at my own behavior and say, "I could have done better, too. Here's what I learned from the experience."
I also realized, again as I got older, some people are simply smart in different ways. There are folks who might be terrible in traditional intellectual pursuits but excel in skill sets that have tremendous value - hunting or construction, mechanics or cabinetmaking. Evaluating everyone based solely on their ability to debate the merits of Sartre is not a wise way to go through life or you'll miss a lot of value. The old concept of "horse sense" is real. It should be cherished. I think more highly of an honest plumber than I do some Harvard MBAs.
Even stuff like the culinary comments you make... I don't know if it's age or success or what but you get to a point in life where it's so unnecessary. It's not exactly a secret if you've ever read this blog that my husband and I are sometimes ridiculous on our obsession for finding the best foods in different styles, perfecting recipes, trying some of the best restaurants in the world, learning techniques from different cultures. For heaven's sake, we're those ridiculously enthusiastic people ordering spring lamb with juniper berry from the butcher so we can test a Marcella Hazan recipe or having commercial-grade copper cookware flown in from Paris so our French sauces can be precisely controlled over open flame. We do it because we love it. If no one else in the world were around to see it, we'd still be doing it. A few hours ago, I was standing in the aisle of the organic section at our local employee-owned market debating about whether I wanted to spend around $23 per pound for pecans to test a particular candy recipe and as I type this to you know, there sits a sealed contained on my kitchen counter of raisins absorbing rum because tomorrow I'm testing a homemade rum raisin ice cream recipe. I'm so excited that later this month, I'm going to be trying a couple of Christmas cake recipes, one of which requires an infusion of $46 per bottle orange liquor. If anyone were going to look down on cheap, greasy diner food, you'd think it would be us.
Instead, do you know what we see when we see a place a like Simon's? Precisely what Julia Child praised when talking about authentic American cuisine that refused to give into the nutritionists: A real, honest-to-God example of non-compromising, nutritional sacrifice meant for the occasional enjoyment rather than - in her words - "feed[ing]". You shouldn't eat it every day, or even every week. However, a few times a year, there's nothing more glorious than the perfection of wonderfully cooked meat, grease running down your chin, an ice cold Coca-Cola, and crispy-on-the-outside golden crinkle fries dipped in ketchup. I'd argue your personal associations with what it represents given your upbringing has overcome your ability to objectively evaluate the cuisine for what it is; judging it on its own merits. To criticize it the way you do, you might as well denounce someone reproducing Escoffier because the people at Printemps were rude to you. It may be understandable but it is not rational. It represents something to you that is much bigger than the food itself. That's okay. It's an inherently human trait and can sometimes go in reverse. There was a member of the community here who once remarked about how he'd prefer his mother to make a roast with Lipton Onion Soup mix rather than something worthy of a three-Michelin star restaurant because it had all sorts of wonderful memories associated with it.
In other words, what I'm saying is you eventually reach a place in life where you see something and it might not be perfect - it might have flaws, perhaps even deep, structural ones that can result in profound damage - but you at least learn to appreciate the good; to cherish the wonderful things it produced and enjoy the best of what it has to offer even if it was less than ideal. The horns and halo effect can be a powerful temptation that makes you look past a lot of complexity in life. You use John Stuart Mill as an example and extract the lessons you can. The result is, you almost can't help but feel gratitude toward even those who have hurt you. Without the experience, you wouldn't have grown into who you are or had the chance to forge your own path.
Anyway, enough of this late night rambling. Again, I truly appreciate you taking time to write and share your experience with me.
Kapitalust
November 2, 2015
Replying to Joshua Kennon
As much as I love your in-depth comments re: finance/investing/business, I think this one takes the cake for best comment of 2015 so far for me.
Kathie Truitt
November 1, 2015
This article makes you look very foolish and very bitter and regardless of who your family is or was, it most certainly will not result in anyone (including your family) welcoming you back to town with open arms. Do you realize that while you may think (as a commenter wrote below) that you've presented El Dorado Springs as 'Mayberry', you've actually criticized everyone. Like the WSJ article you have presented the whole community as being made up on nothing but 'hicks' and 'buffoons'. Listening to a few people make stupid remarks about the president does not mean the whole town feeds in to that stupid notion. I am married to a man that for 13 years was a major power player in Washington, DC. We have heard much worse about President Bush. By the way - we both grew up in El Dorado Springs. Both of us stupid, uneducated, Jesus-freak hicks did quite well for ourselves.
Kenton Troy Allison
November 1, 2015
Nice article. I have lived here my whole life. Your grandpa Dennis was an exceptional person. Yes, El Dorado has it's drug problems as someone stated. As does virtually every other town in America. It is a town that still has plenty of bigotry and prejudice also. That was a generation raised with that perspective. It is a "Bible belt" town and will always disagree with some of those issues. That is NOT wrong unless those issues are actually discriminatory against a person for something they can't help. But El Dorado is NOT dying. It is a vibrant community like many other small towns that is focusing on keeping them viable. I take road trips all over Missouri and Eldo is as clean and nice as any of them. It is a beautiful town. And you, Josh, will be able to bring your grandchildren here someday and show them where you lived. I am sure some people have negative memories but honestly those stem from a lot more than just the town. It is the atmosphere you are raised in. The older anyone get's, the more they will realize that.Your grandpa Dennis was a great person, as genuine as you can get. He has, and will always have my utmost respect until the day I die. Thanks for the article.
Joshua Kennon
November 2, 2015
Replying to Kenton Troy Allison
Thank you for writing this (and for your kind words about my grandpa Dennis). I really do hope to see towns like El Dorado Springs not only survive, but thrive. Perhaps it will happen. When a person looks across economic and politically history, the 1970's were a time when people thought the nation was doomed, yet we were on the verge of the biggest and longest economic expansion in the history of human civilization. People have a nice way of surprising you; of bettering themselves, innovating, and expanding. It would make me so happy to someday do exactly what you say - bring my own grandchildren there and point out the different things their great-great grandpa built.
Debbie Rawson
November 2, 2015
I grew up in El Do though I lived near a small village called motevello (sp). I have fond memories of that place including the El Do Pinic (the traveling fair as she put it). I made some really good friends but there is nothing there. There isn't anyway to really get a good college degree or get a really good decent job unless you are really lucky. And I found that a bunch of my class (grad in 2011) that got scholarships to go to college maybe didn't really need them. But that is ok to a degree it's whatever now. I go home once in a while it seems werid to go home because I now live most of the time in Joplin getting my degree. I do not have fond memories of middle school or high school though. I grew up with most of my class and besides my 10 or so friends everyone seemed to think it was alright to make fun of me or be mean to me in one way or another( i say most because some where acutally really nice to me). I think it probably is a problem in larger towns/cities as well but everyone knows everyone there and rumors get spread like wildfire. I don't really think i regret growing up in El Do. It has made me the person I am today. I don't agree fully with your article but it did bring up some fond memories for me.
FratMan
November 2, 2015
Joshua, do you think it's more than a coincidence that some of your posts that go viral in different ways--Quincy, Temecula, and El Dorado--are those posts where you take abstract concepts and tie them down to physical locations?
I wonder if the thing that animates people who ignore the stock market but then get really, really into physical real estate is the same impulse that gets people interested in abstract moral and philosophical concepts when represented by physical places?
Joshua Kennon
November 2, 2015
Replying to FratMan
That's a fascinating question. A lot of times, physical towns I've written about (including a place in New Mexico) result in some very impassioned messages. It could be the fact it's tangible. The Temecula page spike alone was really interesting given that it was driven entirely by social media; people talking, debating, and conversing among themselves.
Cecil Worthington
November 2, 2015
Great article. While grew up in Los Angeles I spent many summers in Cedar County and went to school in El Dorado for my 8th grade. I was friends with the Kennon kids that were around my age, especially Dean. Knew his dad Buck and used to visit their farm in Cedar Springs, two of my uncles and their families had a store there on highway 54. A young kid could not grow up in a better place. I still love to visit and I try to go at least once a year. My family is the Blands and they like the Kennons included many super nice people, which is rather common in that area. Most of those that I knew grew up in extreme poverty, they didn't have much money, but they were rich in family.