See that pile of rubble in the above photo? It was shared by a fellow named Jason Devine on Facebook. Now, I don’t know Jason but that pile of rubble has stirred some deep emotions within me.
That pile of rubble is all that’s left of the well-loved, old fashioned drive-in movie theater in the town in which I grew up. My parents went on dates there over 40 years ago. My husband and I went there on dates. We’ve taken our children there. I grew up driving past it on my way home. It was as familiar a site as my own living room.
Now it is gone. Just this week, bulldozed to the ground.
The symbolism does not escape me.
Drive-in movies are iconic of a much simpler, innocent era in our nation’s history. The economy was booming, men were men and girls were ladies. Mostly.
My small hometown in rural central Kentucky seemed to cling to the purity of all that made America great, and that gigantic drive-in screen made of cinder blocks was the perfect reminder.
Now as we see America deteriorating on every level, we see that not even this small rural town is immune. It is like a cancer, eating away at all that was once healthy and good.
To the previous owners, the demolished screen may represent retirement or the end of that chapter in their lives. To me, it represents so much more.
I don’t know what is in store for America. It may still have some good years, but it is certain her best days are behind her. Mingled in with my sad nostalgia, though, is the peace of our Blessed Hope; the certainty of a future with my Lord.
Maranatha.
A Mom Looking Up 