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The Pearl of the Tri-Pasture Area

from A Chatterstrip at the End of Civilization

By Jay Michael JonesPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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The beauty of the city of Clem is still there.

I have made mention of the city of Clem, the Pearl of the Tri-Pasture Area, before. It is barely more than a collection of mailboxes now but back in its heyday, the city of Clem was quite the place, boasting of a number of pool halls, a fire station, two grocery stores and a dry goods place. Its tidy streets were carefully laid out by considerate forefathers in the early settlement days of the area.

There was a post office and a bank, and while the city did not have a bowling alley, they did have a mighty fine bocce ball area in Bobber Tinkerkeller's back yard. It had a grade school, a junior high and a high school whose ball team the Clem Goat Ropers had a rivalry with the Greater Metropolitan Roopville Thunder Lizards. It was a matchup not to be missed.

Then the Department of Transportation decided that the highway through town needed to go around town to make it easier for trucks heading to and from Atlanta. The highway was widened. Greater Metropolitan Roopville not only survived the construction without much problem, but it also even benefited from the improvement. The City of Clem, the Pearl of the Tri-Pasture Area, was not as fortunate.

The pool halls gradually dried up; the dry goods store finally shuttered its windows for good. The grocery stores could not compete with better prices and selections in other places and they too eventually closed. The fire station fell under the auspices of the county emergency team and when the town unincorporated, they were strictly volunteer. The post office was re-located in one of the storefronts and the bank moved into Greater Metropolitan Roopville. Bobber Tinkerkeller parked his bass boat over the bocce ball area and what few players remained, found other pastimes to pursue. And the Clem Goat Ropers were absorbed into the county high school and became the generic-sounding Central Cougars.

But the beauty of the city of Clem is still there. It is in the tidily kept lawns and carefully tended gardens; it is in the meticulous way the volunteer fire department cleans and shines the fire truck each and every Thursday. It is in the way Earnest Duffer, the oldest surviving veteran in the county, quietly runs his flag up the flagpole in front of his house every morning and salutes it before he goes back inside his house. It is in the way he takes the flag in every evening, and especially in the way he rushes out to gather it in at the first sign of rain, lest the elements abuse the symbol of his sacrifice.

The beauty of Clem is in the rolling pastures where cattle and horses and goats still populate this agricultural corner of the state. It is in the grandly arching oak trees and the thin high pines, and the noise and activity of squirrels which inhabit both. It is in the riotous color of gladiolas and azalea bushes, and in the fresh green of spring and the muted earth tones of fall. It is in the carefree smiles of children walking down a country road to visit a friend in the hot summertime. The beauty of Clem can be heard in the many different bird songs in the countryside and in the faraway tinkle of a wind chime on someone's porch.

The true beauty of Clem, the Pearl of the Tri-Pasture Area, cannot be erased as easily as a circle on a map in some landman's office. One cannot un-incorporate a neighborly greeting or the offer of a tall icy glass of sweet tea on a Sunday afternoon. The city of Clem, the Pearl of the Tri-Pasture Area, will live forever in the gallantry of its citizenry, who still stop to help you change a flat tire. That is something the DOT will never bypass out of existence.

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america
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About the Creator

Jay Michael Jones

I am a writer and an avid fan of goats. The two are not mutually exclusive.

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