Several years ago there was a country song by Miranda Lambert named “Everybody Dies Famous in a Small Town” and it is so true. I live in a county of 30,000 people but the town I call home has a population of about 500 people. Well, I live on the outskirts of that town so I don’t count in that 500. It’s small. And everybody knows everything about you.
I wasn’t born here. I was born in the largest city in Kentucky, Louisville. Actually, I lived in the suburbs there too so it was sort of a small town. Nothing like Fancy Farm though. Although you knew your neighbors and all the kids in the neighborhood you didn’t necessarily know their complete families and everything about them. You knew how often then cut their grass and if they had a dog and how mean their mom was and which mom could and would make cookies for all of us but you didn’t know where they came from and what they did for a living or anything about their families.
In Fancy Farm, you know. There is this one family that go to church with us. Shoot, most everybody goes to church with us. They might not go at the same time but that’s where they go. That’s where the town came from. But anyway, this family is very friendly. And, we know everything about their Mom and Dad, their Grandmother and Grandfather, their Great-Grandfather. We know all of their aunts and uncles and great-aunts and great-uncles and each and every cousin they have. That is, we know all of them that live in town. If they live away from here we know about them up until the time they left the area.
Facebook makes it worse. It’s like this huge party line. I can remember my sister-in-law knew everything. If someone was sick, she knew. If someone died she made sure to let the rest of the family know. If someone got a new job, she knew. If someone was having trouble in their marriage she knew too. She died before Facebook became big for adults. She would have loved it. She would have known all kind of business. She would have kept us all informed. But people will talk with me all the time like we are best friends. On Facebook we are. I have to remind myself of that all the time. We all have so many more friends because of Facebook.
And everybody is famous in Fancy Farm. If they scored a touchdown on the high school football game, we know. In fact, a local high school won the state championship. One of their up and coming star players is from our town. We know about every play he has played. We know about every successful play he was involved in. We know, because we asked. Another boy went to the state tournament in golf. We know how he did because we were in the town where the tournament was held on the day he competed and we know that he probably got robbed because he had to play in a monsoon of a rainstorm. We know that one of the 94 year old ladies that lives down the road probably shouldn’t drive anymore because one day last week she almost had a wreck trying to pick up her newspaper from the end of her driveway. She just couldn’t get the car situated close enough that all she just had to do was open the door and reach down and pick up the newspaper. She just wasn’t watching for traffic. We know which farmer put out their crop and when. We know who has been born, and who has died. I’ll never forget that we noticed a grave being dug in the cemetery and we had to call the church office to see who died. We wanted to make sure so we could take food to their house.
When I came to the area the first time my friend, whom I was visiting, took our picture and she sent it to the newspaper. So here I am in the local newspaper. I couldn’t believe that. I still have that newspaper clipping.
When someone does die it is a huge event, a community-wide event. It’s not just the family who is involved, it’s the entire community. First, you should take food to the family. They’re going to have family in from out of town and no one is going to feel like cooking. So, a platter of cookies or a casserole that can be frozen in case there is too much food, or a sliced ham or deli tray are in order. Then it’s time for the visitation. It doesn’t matter who the person is, if they’re from the area, you go to the visitation. I can remember going to the visitation and others wondering if we were related, and we said, no, we just thought a lot of the person who had died. People who aren’t from this area can’t necessarily relate, but that’s what we do. Not everyone goes to the funeral but most people take food for the funeral meal. If it’s a big family, the funeral meal is a huge potluck dinner with fried chicken, sliced ham and all kinds of vegetables and casseroles. During the summer you get fresh vegetables. The desserts are wonderful. Again, people that aren’t from here just can’t relate. There is a whole group of people who organize these dinners and make sure there is plenty of food, and serve the food for the family. The whole thing is that the family doesn’t have to do anything during this time.
I have heard people ask who it was that died, they must have been somebody important. We couldn’t agree more. Everyone from our community is important, and famous. We work hard to remember them well.
Fancy Farm 