An Interesting Story

One of the eye-opening things about traveling is seeing parts of the country that people don’t necessarily travel to for tourism. Campbellsville is one of those place. After all, I was only there because I had the opportunity to work for Amazon, which has a large distribution facility there.

Campbellsville is a small town. They have some chain stores and restaurants as well as some small Mom and Pop places. It is the county seat of Taylor County and has the usual assortment of county offices as well a private college, Campbellsville University.

And, of course, it has a McDonalds.

One day, I stopped in for a light meal and to use their internet connection.

After I had been sitting there for about an hour, a young woman in an early stage of pregnancy came up to me and asked if I was heading toward Elizabethtown. Well, I wasn’t, but I figured that if it wasn’t too far, I could give her a lift.

She didn’t know where it was, but her brother had bought her a Greyhound ticket so she could get home to Georgia.

She was polite, but the effects of poverty were evident. Her teeth were in serious need of attention. It may have been the direct effect of not being able to afford dental care or it might have been poverty’s indirect effect of drug use. Her clothes were thin and not suitable for the cold snap we had been experiencing.

I looked on Google maps to see where it was. Hmm…it was about 45 miles away. I checked, just to make sure that there wasn’t a Greyhound stop here in Campbellsville. After all, there is a university here in town. There must be a way for people to get around.

No, the closest Greyhound stop was in Elizabethtown. There was no Amtrak station, no other form of public transportation that I could find.

I asked her how she had gotten here.

She interpreted my question to mean, “How did you get to McDonalds?” She told me that she just walked over from the jail.

Oh, dear.  I was concerned that if no one stepped up to help her, she could get into trouble trying to get where she needed to go. I decided to drive her over to the bus stop.

She told me she was so thankful that I was helping her because she didn’t want to ask the men that were sitting in the restaurant.

Before we left, I said that we should probably top off our drinks. While we were doing that, I noticed that she only had the free water cup.

We never got into what brought her to Campbellsville, but she shared with me how eager she was to get home.

Home. What a beautiful word!

I got her to the bus stop just as the store was closing. Yes, the bus stop was in front of a store, although there was a porch for her to wait on.

And wait is what she would have to do. I dropped her off just after sunset, and her bus wasn’t due until 2:45 the following afternoon.

I dug in my emergency supplies that I keep in the truck and gave her a fleece pullover and some gloves. The temperature would dip close to freezing that night. She was so grateful for the ride and the clothing.

This experience is one that helped me realize that my America is not everyone’s America.

I hope she got home safely and that she was welcomed with open arms.