Watching "Driving Miss Daisy"

It makes me uncomfortable at times; it makes me cry at others.  I feel an affinity to Alfred Uhry; for 13 years, I worked in the house he grew up in.  He once came and visited the house and I had absolutely no idea who he was.

Watching tonight, I paid particular attention to the mill scene at the beginning of the movie.  Mill towns and mill workers used to be a dime a dozen around here.  Nowadays, no one remembers them, except those of us who work around the fringes of their decay.  There are scads of Methodist churches who used to be affiliated with a mill.  Most of them are in decline now from the death of the associated mill.