The Largest Colony of a Forgotten Atlantic Nation is Smack Dab in the Middle of Illinois Farmland

*This continues the Folks of Forgottonia Series, based on growing up in the 14 counties of Western Illinois which were abandoned by Chicago and Washington D.C. alike, starting in the 1950’s. Full context in the footnotes.

Eustace Clevenger was 92 years old when I saw him back October, and I pray to God the Pandemic has not claimed him.

There’s no shame in needing a cane as a nonagenarian, but Eustace seemed to proud for one, a fact I couldn’t help but smile at. He leaned on walking stick, covered in bark. Eustace’s sister had been the childhood best friend of my late grandmother, who we had gathered to lay to rest in the cemetery in Galva, IL. A light rain misted the chilly Illinois prairie like every graveside scene in every movie since the invention of film.

“He sat straight up, straight as a poker,” Eustace said, as he began to unspool the tale of my great-grandfather. “His eyes were on the road and he gripped the steering wheel tight on those trips. He got paid a little extra to drive the other men out to the railroad site, and he never slouched behind the wheel.”

I’m unsure of the exact date on this story, except that it would have been sometime in the middle of The Great Depression. Eustace, who lived next door to my grandmother, “couldn’t remember” if grandma’s family had lost a farm to foreclosure. I’m still unsure if he was connecting that event to the way my…