Back in the 1960s, a Newsweek reporter showed up in the little (pop. 636) Georgia town of my birth, purporting to prepare an article on “Small Town America”. Early in the week, he was given the grand tour of the state park with two fishing lakes, the museum home of the vice-president of the Confederacy and the magnificent three-story brick county courthouse.
He returned on Wednesday afternoon to take his photos and write the real story. In those days, stores throughout the South would close on Wednesday afternoons. Even Belk’s department store in Atlanta closed on Wednesday afternoon. In our little town, the courthouse clock would strike one, the fire siren would get a brief test and then you’d hear the slamming of doors as everyone closed up shop to head home for a nap, mow the lawn or go fishing. The Wednesday closing was to offset being open half a day on Saturday mornings.
The Newsweek reporter took a new set of photographs about 2 pm showing empty sidewalks and parking places. These were used to illustrate his article on “Ghost Town America”, deserted in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week.
In the 1970s another reporter came to the Chicago Bible college I was attending. He was given the Grand Tour, interviewed several professors and a few students. When the arrticle appeared in print, it bore little or no relation to reality. It was so bad that the reporter called my Theology professor to apologize, saying, “That was not the article I sent to New York!”
My small town closed on Wed afternoon too. Men would golf. Women had club meetings.