The Place We Share
All year long we’re inviting everyone who has ever opened a copy of Country Roads to share their story with us
As I’ve mentioned before, Country Roads turns thirty-five this year. This strikes my wife and me—a pair of peripatetic English majors with about as much business acumen as a bowl of ramen noodles—as a bit of a miracle. Although Ashley and I have been involved with the magazine for more than twenty years, until recently it was tempting to give most of the credit for its continued existence to Country Roads’ founder, serial misspeller, world-champion volunteer, irrepressible optimist, and my mother-in-law, Dorcas Brown. But at the end of 2017 Dorcas retired, exchanging thirty-four years as our titular leader for a schedule divided between ferrying grandchildren to extra-curricular activities, mis-identifying visiting waterfowl, and cementing her reputation a feared regular at St. Francisville’s cutthroat Mah-Jongg table. Four months later and here we are: lights still on, sun still coming up, and neither sky nor creditors having yet fallen on our heads. Considering the existential challenges that traditional media has faced during the past decade, this leaves Ashley and me gazing at one another in surprise, saying something similar to (but cruder than) “Good Lord, this actually might work after all!”
But why, well into the era when Facebook and Google were supposed to have eaten the rest of the media establishment, is a little thing like Country Roads still chugging along? I think the answer has to do with community—something that, for all its transformative power, the Internet doesn’t deliver very well, on a scale that we humans are wired to deal with. Of course the Internet can deliver all the wide world—or a digital facsimile of it—to our fingertips. But at a time when every mall has the same stores, every airport the same food, and every commercial break the same polished national ad campaigns, what I think most of us long for are tactile, local, authentic connections to things we can see, feel, smell, taste, touch; and collectively care about. We want to feel that there’s somebody real behind it all—somebody not so different from ourselves. Local, home-grown, unique: these have real, tangible, human value. National brands—let alone multinational Internet behemoths—simply cannot deliver them, no matter how many “Artisanal” Chicken Sandwiches McDonald’s adds to the menu.
Local, home-grown and hand-made are the very qualities that set Louisiana and Mississippi apart. They’re also what Country Roads exists to find, share, and celebrate with the community of people that has gathered around this little candle flame of a cultural publication. So all year long we’re inviting everyone who has ever opened a copy of Country Roads and found something worth cherishing about Louisiana, to share their story with us. We’ll feature them in a special thirty-fifth anniversary special issue, coming this September. Call it old-school crowd-sourcing, if you like. We’ve had some great submissions from readers already. Here’s a taste:
“Cher-Amie Restaurant in Cut Off: some of the best, real Cajun cuisine around. Worth the drive along Bayou Lafourche, which is one of the most handsome in the state. From Thibodaux to Grand Isle, the road has cane fields, shipyards, plantation houses, above-ground tombs, lazy bayous, houses of every type of architecture, marsh, swamp and beach. Where else can you get that much scenery for free?”
—Sue
“The recent dinner at Saint Mary’s Church in Saint Francisville. I took gorgeous photos and soaked in the peaceful scenery, the music, the history, the natural table bouquets, the food and the company. One of my favorite events of all time.”
—Marian
“Acadiana - As a Girl Scout leader I was amazed at how little my Cadettes knew about Acadiana and how rich the history of the area is. We planned a trip around so many places I learned about through the magazine. Fifteen girls and chaperones headed out from Terrytown on the West Bank of New Orleans and headed west to start at Vermilionville. We crossed the Atchafalaya and they learned about the uniqueness of Louisiana's rivers, swamps, and basin. We drove south to Loreauville and stayed at Lake Fausse Pointe State Park. Eight miles of levee road the girls thought it would never end but I knew we were headed to paradise. One day it was the Konriko Rice plant, another day it was Rip Van Winkle plantation home and gardens, one day it was Avery Island and one day it was an airboat ride deep in the Atchafalaya. Each night we read from Longfellow's Evangeline and on our last day we went to St. Martinville and read the last few pages of the poem by the Evangeline statue. The girls were genuinely amazed and put the whole week's adventures in perspective and understood the story of the Acadians and so much of Louisiana 's history. I know they had a new love for Louisiana and her rich history, its natural resources, and special people.”
—Barbara
“My story would be of the love and memories receiving Country Roads brings me each month. I was born in Baton Rouge, graduated LSU, lived in Lafayette four years, and come home twice a year or so. But most of my life after college has been in Kansas, Florida, Texas, and Maryland. I can't enjoy most of the places in the magazine, but just looking at the pictures and reading the articles helps my homesickness!
—Kathleen
Do you have a story of an experience to share? If so, please send it our way, by visiting promotions.countryroadsmagazine.com/35-4-ever. We’d love to hear from you.
And speaking of stories ... I want to invite you to dinner! On Thursday, April 19 I’ll be at Red Stick Spice Company, teamed up with the inestimable Anne Milnek for her Mealtime Storytime series. I’ll be telling stories about some of the weirder, more wonderful local food experiences I’ve had (and written about) during my time in Louisiana, while Anne cooks the dishes we’re discussing, then serves them for dinner (no Vegemite; I promise). It’s going to be fun. I hope to see you there. redstickspice.com for details.
—James Fox-Smith, publisher
This article originally appeared in our April 2018 issue. Subscribe to our print magazine today.