I grew up in a ghost town that still exists
If that makes any sense at all
When everybody stayed at home
Two hundred people small
A little store for groceries
Merle Wittler pumped the gas
Three churches met on Sunday
The four room school had class
Railroad trains ran through the town
The postman brought the mail
On Saturdays, the auction house
Put local stuff on sale
Highway 24 ran through
But no one had to stop
And dented cars could get fixed up
In the auto body shop
Cokes cost just a dime back then
The bottle two cents more
And they would give your two cents back
If you returned it to the store
The grocery store sold ice cream
Along with bread and meat
At Halloween, the candy section –
Free for Trick or Treat
Four teachers taught the children
Who went there through grade eight
Two classes housed in every room
The instruction, really great
The school got milk from Prairie Farms
Cartons – two cents apiece
You could choose vanilla or chocolate
Every afternoon, a treat
The tiny cafeteria
Had Mary Lou as cook
Her husband, Jerry, drove the bus
Which many of us took
All that was sixty years ago
And things are diff today
No groceries, gas or auction nights
The school has gone away
The postal office still is there
But who knows for just how long
No iconic things to cling to
Somehow this just seems wrong
Small town life no longer has
The media’s attention
With little towns like Fowler
Rarely getting any mention
“They’re the backbones of this country”
It was said of towns back then
If we aspire to be great,
We need to build them up again
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