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Yes sir, “We are Lancaster.” As one of our folks in Indian Land says. “We are the most confusing place.”
All I can say is, “Honey, I was born in this confusing place 79 years ago and it’s still confusing.” Growing up, I quickly found out that it was just as far up the road to Mr. Pettus’s Cotton Gin as it was down the road from his cotton gin.
Now, I think if y’all want to be a town, be careful of what you wish for. Going back just a few short years ago, the idea of living in a nice rural, low taxes place where the summers were hot and the winters milder than you were experiencing, seemed wonderful. Your upscale housing developments were just perfect, except they didn’t offer shopping centers and restaurants nearby. Before you could shake a stick, business began to answer your desires and with it a certain amount of crime. If you aren’t careful you could well become the Cherry Road of Lancaster.
Well you Indian Landers have done a pretty good number on me too.
Now, I have to drive up to your neck of the woods to see my doctor who moved from our city to meet your needs. I sorta miss the open farmlands now littered with small shopping centers and traffic signals.
Betcha, one day you will be looking at Van Wyck as a refuge from the hustle and bustle of Indian Land. Maybe some enterprising soul will get the brickyard back into operation and create some jobs.