Sunday’s drive landed me in McConnelsville (where I’d never been). Two teen-aged young men working at the Opera House gave me the lay of the land. One told me that it is widely believed that the Opera House is haunted, and he wouldn’t vouch for that statement, but he also would never, ever, ever go down into the basement.
The statute in the town square honoring Union soldiers faces south.
On the way home, I took a few pictures of Americana (one of my favorite subjects, obviously).