by Boyce Upholt | Photos by Boyce Upholt
Nothing like the real thing. Someone, somewhere in Laurel, is at work right now, that is, even as you read these words. It may be a contractor, tearing down old drywall in a soon-to-open boutique downtown, or maybe the town’s second-generation sign-painter—whose...
by Boyce Upholt | Photos by Boyce Upholt
Somehow it was not until my second morning that I heard it: a few blasts of a horn, then a few more, a freight train rumbling past, like something out of a country song. This is the sound of McComb. Passenger trains once rolled through McComb at all hours, while...
