Grass roots

There's something that happens in this region that was notably missing from my recent business trip to D.C. I shook hands with a lot of people, but not one ever said, "Hey, are you kin to ..." or "Do you know so-and-so from Barbourville?" It didn't strike me until I was at a wedding last weekend on a rolling horse farm in Cynthiana, mingling with new acquaintances underneath the pristine white tent, and more than once, after introducing myself, the next question I heard was about not just where I came from, but who. It's interesting to consider the contrast of how roots are valued here while autonomy is not only appreciated, but presumed in other places. Something to ponder...