Travel Journal, 83

I sit on a cement step outside a friend’s home in the lovely state of Kentucky. This little town, along with so many others in Kentucky, sits nestled along the base of hills and through a little ravine beside a small river. And if the natural beauty of Central Kentucky isn’t enough to convince you of America’s goodness, have a walk downtown. It drips americana. Tall post-Civil War homes line streets, each with its rocking-chair deck.

 

We went for a run yesterday. As we turned down the street and up side road, we greeted smiling faces. My friend runs this route nearly every day. He sees the same people. And every day they say the same types of things.

 

“Running hard today?”

 

“Good morning!”

 

“Well, hey, how-ya doin’?”

 

You’ve seen the movies and TV shows where the good folks sit in front of their good homes, taking in afternoon coolness in the shade of their porch. 

 

This is that place. They literally hold a glass of sweet tea and smile and wave at you. At least I think it’s sweet tea. I don’t really know what they drink in Kentucky. Lemonade? Who knows?

 

Whatever it is, it’s classically American, I can feel it. 

 

It’s times like these that make me feel like America isn’t facing hard times—like maybe everything is good. Maybe we’re going to be okay.

 

I suppose I write this now in the attempt to convince myself that America’s goodness still exists. The constant political turmoil of 2020, the ongoing chaos of differing views regarding the pandemic, and the sorrowful condition of our current cultural climate has led me to this point. Though so many are asking the question whether or not America is great, I feel that we should ask a question more basic: 

 

Is America good?

 

The problem with this question is that most people regard the word good as a subjective term. When compared to the all-good God above, I suppose everything seems pretty bleak. But even God himself looked down on his creation and said it was good. Granted, mankind has fallen into evil and does its darndest to wander (Lord, I feel it).

 

But at the end of the day, I still want to know.

 

Is America good?

 

I recently posed this question to a friend of mine. He tilted his head, pensively, and said slowly, hesitantly, “sometimes.” With all that we have seen and experienced in the past several months, I clearly understand what he means.

 

However, I think I’m more of an optimist.

 

My wife and I have, over the years, traveled to all 50 of these United States. (which, by the way, is not easy to do.) And most of the people we’ve met—whether black, white, Asian-American, Somali-American, short, thin, or wide—have been just downright good people.

 

So, is America good?

 

I think so. But as the great and powerful LeVar Burton once said, “you don’t have to take my word for it.”

 

Just take a walk down a Kentucky side-street. Wave at the friendly folks. Chances are, they’ll smile.

 

My goal over the next few weeks will be to encourage my readers to take off their glasses, coated with the hazy dust of the news, social media negativity, anger, and pride, wipe them off, and hopefully see America as good. Not because of who is or who is not President; but because of the people that live here in American community.

 

We have a term for the culture of American community:

 

Americana.

 

Sure, we have some bad stuff. Evil persists. Racism lives. Wretched attitudes thrive. I will want to explore these things.

 

But I believe that the goodness of America is the rule, and not the exception.

 

anthony forrest