by Freida Marie Crump
Greetin’s from the Ridge.
Looking down Main Street in Coonridge this morning I see the post office, the implement dealer, a flower shop, bank, and bar. That’s it.
Like so many small Midwestern towns, we must rely on our memories of the days of two grocery stores, three restaurants, a druggist, a doctor’s office, a combination funeral parlor and furniture store, a filling station on every