As I was plotting our Roadshow, a spot on the map appealed to me. It looked blessedly isolated yet possibly vibrant.
That dot was Mt. Pleasant, TX, halfway between the hill country and Hot Springs, Arkansas.
The ex-urbs of Dallas lie 100 miles to its west, making it more of a distinct place and less of a bedroom community. Perfect.
The young woman who waited on us at Monterey Taqueria assured us it was “a quiet town with not much to do.”
Though she mentioned trips to Dallas for exciting adventures, she spoke with some wistful admiration for her small town.
He countenance was calming, giving off the slower pace you often feel in back road America.
Mental Mapping
That evening, we watched the Sixers play on a large screen TV using our Youtube subscription, a handy interface for traveling in these modern times.
The Ring® door bell spoke to our awareness that we were staying out of sight of town, just beyond the railroad tracks where we could imagine being devoured by a stray German Shepherd or visited by a friendly local with a 12 Gauge.
OK, we weren’t that paranoid, but the security system was a nice touch.
A train serenaded us at dawn, its engine singing a duet with the rails:
scrrreech crunkle crunckle kalata-room, scrrreeeech!
My custom in new, smaller places is to conduct surveillance on my bicycle.
Looking back on our visit, I realized I had instead used a more ancient technology to map Mt. Pleasant: The old dogs, the clompers, my lovely feet.
Crossing the tracks and quickly reaching town, I discovered the well-worn template of a 19th century, European settlement:
A town square with a court house in the center,1 ringed with numerous local businesses. Some were survivors, others were replacements of larger retailers.
The downtown seemed to retain its center of gravity for commerce and socializing.
Walmart, Lowe’s, and several hotel chains lay outside of town on Interstate 30, but no malls were in sight.
Posters of high school cheerleaders and band members were plastered throughout the downtown, solidifying the notion this was a place with a lot of heart and goodwill.
LookfortheCoffee, A Mantra
I found some at Jo’s Downtown.
On a Tuesday morning in March, the place was bustling with locals, some getting their buzz on their way to work, some settling in for socializing.
Far from the minimalist aesthetic so over-done in hipster joints these days, Jo’s felt like Aunt June’s living room set up for commerce.2
I noticed more than one poster for services offering meal provision, mental health treatment, and addiction recovery.
From their Story page:
Jo's was started in spring of 2015 by a community of people desiring to see Mount Pleasant united and transformed. We operate as a non-profit which means all of our sales go towards funding our purpose and mission.
I wasn’t surprised by hints of faith-based motivations. It was heartening to find a viable business intentionally operating for the common good.3
The Price Is Right, But Wait, There’s More!
Unlike many of the small towns we’ve driven through, Mt. Pleasant is not merely a shell of its former glory.
Perhaps the ebb-and-flow of development patterns and social attitudes explains its livelihood.
The prevailing American Dream since WWII has been to own a piece of property, preferably away from the density of towns and cities.
That trend is bending as more of us are questioning the social, mental, and physical health of our car-dependence.
And with more options to work from home, some professionals are wising up to the benefits of a place like Mt. Pleasant, TX.
They are also flocking to places like Denver, CO, East Nashville, TN, and even Brewerytown in Philadelphia, causing skyrocketing prices and rapid gentrification.
In a future dispatch, I want to unpack the insanity of housing prices and consider what habits of the heart are driving it.
For now, let’s just say that Mt. Pleasant is still one those places where a person with modest means can afford to live in a vibrant community.
lt lives up to its name.
This was a first for my eyes: The court house is a rather odd, Art Deco-ish looking place. Typically, a Neo-gothic structure is found in town squares throughout America. In this case, both are true. The 1895 building was remodeled in the 1940’s, making it, by some critic’s estimations, “the ugliest court house in Texas.”
Once in a while it’s nice to cush my tush on something other than a bespoke, metal-legged piece of live-edge apparatus posing as a chair. 😜
I don’t know the proprietors, but I can imagine them completely ignoring the terms of battle laid down in the so-called culture wars, choosing instead to help people in need, serve good coffee, and provide a “third place” for healthy human engagement.
You are quickly becoming my favorite writer.