To date I’ve traveled over 20,000 miles through 30 states stopping at the small towns along the way. Unlike the Tri-State area I’m accustomed to, the people I met were warm, welcoming, and had time to chat. They were curious who this traveler was and why I was taking pictures. They enjoyed a conversation with a stranger and were happy to have their picture taken. Their pace of life was slower and more personal. In Elkhart, Texas, I met a man pulling a wagon down the highway and Roy a cowboy rancher in Alanreed. There was Peggy and Joe at their vegetable stand in Ohio who felt I looked tired and insisted I stop, rest and made me a tomato sandwich. I met Yellowman on an Indian reservation in New Mexico, Tom the “Wanderer” in Illinois, Billy Johnson, tending his tomato patch in Tennessee, a family crabbing on the bayou in Louisiana and Jerry mailing some letters in Wathena, Kansas. A traveler is prepared for the sophistication of the big cities with the costumes of the hurried people attached to mobile devices and the suburban sprawl of strip malls. But stopping to have conversations with the people in the small towns was reassuring that “a kinder and gentler America” still exists. With a world moving forward so quickly, it was nice, if only for a few weeks, to seemingly move backwards in tine. The journey was enlightening and reassuring.