The surprising charm of Ashburn, Georgia

I had to go to court for a traffic citation that I received while driving through Georgia on Interstate 75. Of all places, my arraignment was held in the smallest of small towns - Ashburn, Georgia. I knew nothing of this small town and was a nervous wreck about having to come from Tampa Bay, Florida (about a four hour drive) to stay overnight so that I could be at court on time. With the steady help of my great friend George, we arrived safely at Ashburn on Monday evening and checked into the Super 8 motel which is one of the two available motels in the area.

The room was perfect to me, very affordable at only $70 per night and it was a smoking room. The desk clerk was down-to-earth and friendly. The card key was easy to use. The room had everything you expect a hotel room to have: comfortable clean bed, clean bathroom, cable tv, phone, fridge, microwave, and air conditioning. I was very relieved and slept well our first night in Ashburn. I could not see the town's charming spots from the entrance (the exit from I-75) and there was not much of a view except to see the local McDonald's, KFC, and Waffle House. We did a quick drive around the town and I could tell from the view from the truck window that there was a lot of charming sights even though some of what I noticed made me use the phrase "ghost town".

The next morning we had to check out of the hotel room by 11 a.m. so we had some time to kill since my court appearance wasn't scheduled until 1 p.m. I had taken a shower and put on my most professional clothes - a blouse with a vest and some dark grey business slacks. It was a sunny hot August day in Georgia and if you've never been there, let me just tell you that a hot summer day in Georgia comes with a good amount of sweat. I couldn't wait to get court over with and peel those clothes off.

While we were waiting for the appointed time, we decided to play tourists and look around the quaint small town of Ashburn. I actually took some photographs and found the beauty and charm of a town so small that the biggest stores there are the Dollar General and the Piggly Wiggly grocery store.

We drove through the neighborhood and looked at the houses that were medium sized and well built - every other house was built of the old fashioned red brick and I thought that was lovely. I began making jokes about how the third little pig outsmarted the wolf and founded the small town of Ashburn. There was one elementary school and one other school, I think a middle school, but I did not see a high school. There were several churches, nicely built.

In the downtown area, where the courthouse stood (a very old building about three stories high) there were sidewalks and some businesses and lots of open empty spaces for any aspiring entreprenuers. As of August 2024, Ashburn does not have much going on. There are two thrift stores, a furniture store, three insurance agents, a beauty salon and barber, a nail salon, a historic house turned into the Crimes and Punishments Museum, and a cafe called Holy Grounds which I wasn't sure if it was still in business or closed forever. There were definitely more open spaces than thriving businesses. Then I saw a sign about leasing space and my dead dream of the past (running my own business) came rushing to mind as I imagined various business ideas to fill those vacant spaces.

It all seemed so much more possible in that small town in the middle of nowhere. It seemed more relaxed, less competitive, and more welcoming, as if the town itself had a soul that was begging for a newcomer to come help it grow with a fresh dream. After having spent the past four years in the big city (in Pinellas County, Florida) and having witnessed how close to impossible it is to find a job (nevermind start a business) in the big city, this small town of Ashburn seemed to be a well of hope for a beaten down soul like mine.

Four years ago, I had resided in the small beach town of Keansburg, New Jersey. I was in love with that town. I didn't need a car to see the whole town. I could walk to everything that was there including the beach which was an extra special bonus. I was living in a tiny rental room and I was on my own, but I was full of hope and dreams. So different now - four years later after having lived back in the big city where my hopes and dreams have been massacred and I'm left only with bitterness and cynicism.

After court was over, we drove back to the Tampa Bay area. Back to Clearwater, Florida, and the whole time I was making comparative notes in my mind about living in the big city versus living in a small town nobody knows about. Perhaps I'm in the minority with the opinion that the small town actually offers more opportunity, but I can only formulate my opinion based on my personal experiences.

As we drove over the Courtney Campbell Causeway bridge and I watched the glorious sun setting in the beautiful sky all glimmering over the salt water everywhere, I was supposed to think "Wow, look how lucky I am to live in a paradise like this Florida city. Look at those gorgeous palm trees and those big fancy hotels and all those incredible boats." But I wasn't thinking that at all. I was thinking "Well, here I am again. Back in the city where I can't get a job, where it's too expensive to start my own business, where the traffic is atrocious, where the landlords don't care about anything except for the rent money, where the competition is so fierce you end up in the mental hospital, where the lawyers are so bad victims are forsaken roadkill, and where the homeless only have two options: jail or the sidewalk. I tried to express my opinion to my friend George, but since he's a fan of the city, he just said that I could have stayed in Ashburn.

I could have. But I didn't. I came back to the big city where my car with the flat tire was waiting for me. Where my cat was happy to see me again. Where a newspaper delivery job is ready for me to start. There's not much hope here in the big city, but I still have some straws worth grasping at. However, if this big city chews me up and spits me out again, I won't be looking at the mental hospital or jail for refuge. I think I'll just find another small town like Ashburn to begin again at.