Route: Springfield, Ohio to Hicksville, Ohio
Distance: 236km drive
I’ll admit, I half expected to be welcomed to our next destination by the haunting pluck of well-worn banjo.
Know the news with the 7NEWS app: Download today
This was after all, Hicksville, Ohio.
If Hollywood has taught me anything, Hicksville would be all pitchforks, overalls and backyard dentistry.
My built-in city bias also had me excited at the prospect that after nearly five years in America, someone would finally great me with the phrase “you’re not from round here, are you?”
You could imagine my delight then, when Hicksville city administrator Corey Wann, did just that.
‘What’s that accent? I know it ain’t from ‘ere”.
We’d just walked into Corey’s main street office where the young father was busy making sure Hicksville was functioning for its 3000 residents.
He’s the guy that runs this place, ensures bins are being collected and sewers are being maintained.
Luckily, he was up for a chat, and I very quickly realised any delusions of Deliverance in Hicksville couldn’t be further from the truth.
Hicksville was a delightfully modern, welcoming and generous city. Not a banjo in sight.
But what Corey very patiently explained, was the frustrations of living in a small American town, in the midst of a national election.
“Sometimes it definitely feels like your vote just doesn’t count. I truly mean that”.
Of course, that’s not a sentiment unique to Hicksville.
It’s the lived experience of people in small towns around the country and the world – and trust me, I’ve lived in my share of them.
But here in America, the divide between city and country has never been wider and more keenly felt.
“You do feel the politicians don’t think about you, that goes for both parties,” Corey said.
Mayor Mike Barth used to be the local newspaper editor.
Like small papers around the world – the Hicksville Tribune died a slow death.
Mike laughed when I told him of a local who had told us that residents here are often referred to as the “Hicks” from “Hicksville”.
“No offence taken,” he said.
“It’s a little joke around here”.
Few are tapped into this town like Mike. The power players of Hicksville are a phone call and a stone’s throw from his main street office.
And the issues that matter, he assures us, aren’t small.
It’s immigration, it’s the border and it’s the economy.”
The holy trinity of deep red Republican policy.
But Mike shirks any suggestion voters here will blindly follow former President Trump.
“We vote for the candidate and not always the party. We want someone to work for our town”.
It was a point made with some humour when Corey and a friend became entangled in a lively debate about a local councillor whose political affiliations they couldn’t agree on.
One thought he was a Democrat. The other certain he was a Republican. But they both agreed he was doing a good job.
Still, we left Hicksville with a definite feeling that the national election was happening “around” this town and not “to it”.
Those we spoke to tapped into a hollowness of the four-year election cycle.
You got a sense there was deep exhaustion around the performative aspect of parties cranking up their folksy credentials in the dying days of the campaign, to lure in rural votes.
“Honestly it’s hard to know what they really stand for,” Corey said.
And that’s NOT unique to small towns.