A Small Town Revisited

As I was writing I Was Born in a Small Town a while back, I was looking for some pictures of my hometown to post and I realized that I didn’t have a single one. So on our last trip back to South Dakota, I went armed with my little camera and random, artistic ideas about a sort of “ode to a small town” tribute.

To some of you, these photos may look vaguely familiar, as you may have grown up in a similar corner of the world. To others, this may seem a little desolate, foreign, Norman-Rockwell-ish, or even a little odd. That’s OK. It is what it is. And it’s my hometown




This is the view that symbolizes the entire 55 mile stretch of Hwy 10 leading into Eureka, SD (minus the 2 curves that you swing through around Leola). This is it. Horizon as far as you can see, from east to west and north to south. Boring to some, beautiful to others. Call it sentimentality, but I’ll choose the later.

This is one of the bigger hills in McPherson County. Within this county, lie 2 little towns – Eureka and Leola. These 2 towns exist a bit like the Capulet’s and the Montague’s. Or the Hatfield’s and the McCoy’s…whichever you prefer. On road trips, it was tradition for teens from both towns to drive up this hill and rearrange white rock formations to proclaim either “EHS” or “LHS”. I’ve often thought how easy those Leola kids had it – they only had to throw a bunch of stones out of the way to create their logo, while we were the poor schmucks who had to rifle through the pasture downhill to collect the thrown stones and carry them back up the hill in order to transform it back to an “E” again.

They don’t do this anymore. I’m pretty sure that poor farmer got sick of stupid teenagers and white rocks all over his field.

Funny, huh? This palm tree is courtesy of a local farmer with artistic tendencies and a sense of humor.

Getting closer… This intersection is known as “New Town Corner”. There isn’t a new town in site. Or any town at all for that matter…just the little abandoned barn in the background. Rather strange name, don’t you think?

Eureka is located in the north-central part of the state; about 20 miles from the Missouri River and about 10 miles from the North Dakota border.

And about 350 miles from my home near Minneapolis.

There it is. Complete with a couple grain elevators, several church steeples and a water tower. Most of the residents of this little town are of German-Russian descent. And the majority have the last names of Neuharth, Opp, Mehlhaff, and Fischer.

If you notice the yellow yield sign on the highway to your left and the dirt-road approach after that – that is the road turning up to the house where I grew up and my parents lived for about 25 years.

This is “my” house. It is about 1 mile out of town and was built by my dad, my grandpa and my great grandpa, who were in the family businesses of construction and farming. We moved into it when I was five years old. My dad farmed the land around the house for many, many years. And do you see all those trees up there? I remember when my mom and dad planted them. Wow, I feel kind of old…

Even though strangers live in this house today, I will always consider it mine. That house holds the memories of my childhood, and that house will always hold a very, very special place in my heart.

Welcome to Eureka, South Dakota: Population 1,101!

Aside from the founder of USA Today (see sign), Eureka has produced several other people who “made it big”. For instance, one of our neighbors turned out to be a music executive for VH-1 and CMT, while the girl that lived next door to my Grandma and Grandpa now works for Oprah. Oh, and I think one kid I knew in high school worked on the Siegfried and Roy show in Vegas. This information has always proven useful in the game “Seven Degrees of Separation.”

Somehow, you know all this kind of stuff when you come from a small town.

OK, now look closely at the house above and picture this: camouflage paint, loud music blaring through the windows and doors, beer cans strewn about the uncut grass in the yard, cars lining the streets all around, young people filtering in and out at all hours of the day and night, and a female mannequins legs positioned out of the second floor window with an accompanying sign stating, “Don’t laugh. Your daughter might be in here.” Just imagine…

These days it’s merely a pet shop at the end of Main Street.

...with some really great memories.

And this is Main Street. It seems a lot more desolate now than it did back then. Only the Northwest Blade (town newspaper), the drug store, the bakery and the bank remain the same. Everything else is a little different - some new signs, several different names and a few more empty buildings. Unfortunately, this is the fate of many small towns in this area. Sad, really.

This is the movie theater and bowling alley. We went to movies here every weekend when I was a kid. (And no, it didn't look this bad back then...) The bowling alley is still open - and I hear the lanes are pretty cheap - if you're ever in the area and interested in a game.

There is also a restaurant inside that used to be called the Borscht Kettle. I think the name comes from the German name for vegetable soup: borscht. I've never been a big fan of the German cuisine featured in many of the local diners. I'd have taken a pizza from the Cenex gas station over strudels, dumplings, sour kraut, cheese buttons, halupsie, and fleischkeichla any day...and still would.

This is the alley behind what was once know as the Midway Cafe. Most of the weekend nights of my high school years were spent here. Sure, we all hung out inside sometimes, too. But outside was where all the action was. (And yes, it did look this bad back then...)




This is Lake Eureka. Isn't it a beautiful view? My friends and I spent many a summer day lounging on our beach chairs at the edge of the water while smearing on as much Johnson's baby oil as we could. My sisters and I all learned to swim in this lake, but I don't think there is much swimming there these days -it gets a little mossy and stinky mid-summer.

Ahhh...the hallowed halls of good old EHS. This is where I went to high school. And this is where my parents went to high school. Yes, my roots go very deep in this little town.

I had 24 kids in my graduating class. And I wouldn't trade those years for anything. Sure, we didn't have soccer teams, Latin classes or field trips to the zoo; but where else could you be the editor of the yearbook, play basketball, run track, be on student council, be a cheerleader, and write articles for the school newspaper. I think small towns definitely have the capability to produce very well-rounded people.

And here’s another “Claim to Fame” in a neighboring town. Remember him?

I bet your grandparents do.

I hope you enjoyed my little tour.

Until next time...