Sometimes when you’re living amidst the numbered blocks and wide avenues of Manhattan it’s hard to imagine that sleepy little towns exist just a borough away. So I enlisted a friend and decided to take the road slightly less traveled (Route 25A) and explore the Main Streets of Long Island’s North Shore.

The convenient thing about 25A is that it winds through towns, often briefly turning into Main Street as you pass through.  As we drove through the quaint town of Cold Spring Harbor, the modest storefront of Kellogg’s Dollhouse shop caught my eye.  As a devoted lover of all things miniature I couldn’t pass this by.

Kelloggs Dollhouse Shop has been open 33 years and on Cold Spring Harbor's Main Street for 26 years.

Behind the counter I found Sonia Kellogg who has been running the shop since her husband, Ned, passed away a year ago.  She told me that he was a master craftsmen featured in many a newspaper article and on T.V., recognized nationally for his exquisite dollhouses.  The store has been on Main Street for 26 years and in business for 33 (as proudly stated on a fliers around the store).

Ned Kellogg a few years before his death with dollhouse he made. The house is a replica of a Victorian Townhouse in San Francisco, California. (photo provided by Sonia Kellogg)

Since its time on Main Street, things have changed. “Twenty six years ago you couldn’t even walk the streets, it was so crowded,” Sonia told me.
Less crowded today?  Seemingly impossible, but true, according to Sonia.
“These days people don’t walk the streets anymore, they’re just on the internet,” she said. “Come to think of it, Main Street did look a little deserted for a beautiful summer day. “People don’t support their local shops anymore.”

Over the years, Sonia told me, most of the shops have gone out of business, transforming Main Street from commercial center to doctor’s offices and real estate agencies.

On Cold Spring Harbor's Historic Main Street, where retail shops once thrived, Real Estate offices now line the street.

But still, through special orders and commissioned dollhouses costing upwards of $10,000, Kellogg’s has stayed afloat on Main Street.  Even a few loyal customers come back to reminisce.  Said Sonia: “Some people come and tell me, ‘Oh you’re still here! I used to come here as a little girl!’ And it’s like they’ve come home.”

On the opposite end of Main Street, things become more residential. Old houses with chipping paint and plaques boasting construction from the early 1800’s abut refurbished cottages much like their mini counterparts in Kellogg’s.  Amongst the houses sits Cold Spring Harbor’s Whaling Museum, displaying an old whaling boat and other relics from the town’s fishing days. Richard Timm, the volunteer docent at the Museum, told us that Main Street actually used to be called “Bedlam Street” due to the rowdy drunken fishermen and the mixed tongues of foreign sailors.

Cold Spring Harbor's Whaling Museum

The Whaling Museum, founded in 1936, is surprisingly modern compared to the rest of downtown.  T.V. monitors play old videos of fisherman, a light-up screen shows the paths of whale pods across the Atlantic, and a detailed diorama shows Cold Spring Harbor in the mid 19th century, the days of thriving commercial fishing. The tiny Main Street of old is a tree-lined dirt road leading out to the water where the big ships once moored.

A diorama of Old Main street in the Whaling Museum

Richard tells us that though the museum is popular for school groups (16,000 kids came through last year) the walk-in crowd is modest, to say the least. But Richard still enjoys being there.  “Afterall,” he tells me “Whaling is the background of Long Island, the culture, it’s the way Long Island grew up.”

According to Richard, Main Street hasn’t changed much in appearance.  But other things have.  “I remember towns before shopping malls when every neighborhood had a little shoe store and a penny candy store. My mother never drove to buy food, she walked down the block!”

“Death” he says.  “So many places have died.”  The towns are trying to bring them back, he says, but it’s tough.

Today my friend and I are the only foot traffic along Cold Spring’s Main Street.  A few cars honk, bewildered, as they whiz by on their way to the beach.

Driving into the sunset on Main Street in Gila Bend, Arizona

Arizona sunsets make you feel like you’re in a movie.  After Buckeye, we drive down I-85 south until we hit Gila Bend.  I grew up in Phoenix for a bit and my mother still lives there, so there is something about this western landscape that feels normal.  Normal that is, in spite of seeing two concrete dinosaurs, a UFO themed hotel (complete with two-story UFO in the parking lot) and a field of old saguaros used as target practice.

We pull off the highway and onto Main Street in Gila Bend.

It’s the abandoned west I love.  We drive into a dirt parking lot where “Ben’s Bar” used to be.  I assume it was a cowboy bar because of the silhouette of the rodeo rider on the side of the building.

We walk down the street and I pick some creosote so I can bring the smell of  desert rain back to New York.  There are a few houses on this Main street. We see a man in a cowboy hat standing on his driveway holding his son.  We go up and talk to him.

“Hi! What’s going on here?”

His name is Jason and his son’s name is Drason.  Jason works for the railroad in Gila Bend, a lot of people who live in Gila Bend do.

“This isn’t much of a Main Street.  Just a few houses.  There’s a roping arena up the road where people practice once a week, but that’s about it.”

We drive up the road to see if there’s any roping going on.  Not right now, although  we see a few beer bottles on the ground.  There are some horses off in the distance creating the most typical Arizona landscape you could imagine.  The only thing missing are the howling coyotes.

We get back into the car and drive off into the sunset.

Picturesque Main Street in Buckeye, Arizona.

This is what Main Street looks like in Buckeye, Arizona.  It’s pretty picturesque, isn’t it?  The Main Street in Buckeye is about 25 miles west of downtown Phoenix off of I-10.  It’s part of the dreamed filled vision called “Verrado Way.” A place billed by its developers as a neighborhood with “a warm welcoming ambiance and small-town charm.  Verrado is a diverse community where you can build your own path to happiness.”

Looks can be deceiving though.

A foreclosed house on Main Street in Buckeye, Arizona.

I drive out Main Street in Buckeye and at first I don’t find anything wrong.  Then I get out of my car and see a young man trying to corral two dogs that have escaped their owner’s backyard. These dogs are not friendly. They keep chasing kids on bikes and running after cars. But they have tags, so the mutts belong to someone. Kyle Sweet is the man I meet.  He’s down from Boulder where he goes to college and is visiting his mom who lives on Main Street.

“I thought there were a lot of foreclosures on this block?”

“There are.  My mom’s had about three different neighbors on both sides of her and she moved here only a few months ago.  She got a great deal on her house.   The foreclosure rate is really high here. ”

We continue to walk, talking with a few other people trying to figure out what to do about these damn dogs roaming Main Street.  We can’t seem to get close to them. Eventually someone calls up the home owner’s association to see if they can get animal control out here.

Kevin and I continue to walk and we soon realize that there are more empty houses than we had thought.

“The thing you have to do is look at the grass.”

Once the ground is brown, the house is empty. A foreclosed home on Main Street in Buckeye, Arizona.

Brown grass = empty house.  Even if they don’t have signs.  Even if they look beautiful.

“It’s worse that it looks.  Everything is hidden here.”

Kyle and I walk up and down Main Street looking for brown grass, the walk up to the homes to see if they’re empty.  I’m surprised by each vacant home.  They look like palaces.  There are so many houses on this Main Street that are empty, I lose count after a while.  It’s like a Disneyland Ghost Town.

I make Kyle stand by a Main Street sign and take his picture.

Kyle Sweet, my Main Street Buckeye tour guide, stands by a sign.

After our informal adventure and tour, I get in the car and drive off.  I never did find out what happened to those dogs.

A tractor heads down Glenbeulah's Main Street

Just a few miles from the resort town of Elkhart Lake is the small town of Glenbeulah, population 378.  The Main Street, running right through the center of town, is flanked by a few businesses and houses with empty front porches.  I’m there around midday so things look fairly deserted, people off tending to their farms or perhaps working at the nearby resort.  I jump out of my car to take a quick picture of the Main street sign just in time to see a massive tractor drive down the center of the street.  It’s likely headed to Weiss’s Lawn and Garden, a large storefront with tractors and other farming supplies sitting outside.

Weiss's has been on Main Street since 1946

Weiss’s interior is like the floor of a car dealership except the customers come there in search of shiny new John Deeres, not hot rods.  In the back office Mary Marciano sits at her computer, placing orders for tractors and other farming items.  She tells me she has been working at Weiss’s for 32 years.  The business was started by her father in 1946.  She’s lived on Main street her whole life, and supposes her family goes back about a hundred years in Glenbeulah.  “It’s a small town,” she says “With its quirks like any other town.” Mary tells me that they just put up a subdivision at the other end of Main Street.  She used to know everyone in town, but now it’s getting bigger.

Mary has worked at Weiss's for 32 years and lived in Glenbeulah all her life.

Down the street next to the gas station is Marshall’s gateway, a new-looking mini mart.  Mike Miller, the manager, stands at the front counter inside.  He tells me that Marshall’s opened about 3 years ago on the empty lot that use to house a metal manufacturing company before it closed down.  I ask Mike about the major construction going on next door and he tells me, “Oh that’s going to be the new Fudgienuckles.”

Fudgienuckles?

It turns out the original “Fudgies” was the town bar that burned down a year ago, leaving a big hole in the community, “It was a mainstay on Main Street” he says.  I notice a PT Cruiser next to the construction site with a license plate that reads “Fudgies” and nearby a woman in pink authoritatively surveys the site and talks to the constructions workers.  I guess she has something to do with Fudgies.

The famous "Fudgies" of Glenbeulah is the mainstay of Main Street

I guess right.  Carrie Lewitz is the daughter of the owners of  what most people in town called “Ma and Pa Fudgies”.  She tells me about the day it burned down.  “People were on the street bawling, just bawling.”  Fudgies was clearly more than just a bar.  “On Christmas we’d have a Santa Clause who really looked like Santa Clause.  And Halloween we’d have a basket of candy for the kids.  It was family oriented.”  But things are looking good with construction and Carrie is confident it will be finished by August.  “They always knew they’d rebuild, I mean there’s only one Fudgies” Carrie says with a laugh.  Karen Hefter, who lives  nextdoor to the old Fudgies site tells me “We just want our bar back.”  Fudgies is something of a community center in Glenbeulah – a place to gather and bring the family, see familiar faces, and shake Ma and Pa Fudgie’s hand when you walk in the door.  Carrie says, rather wistfully “Small towns are cool, they really are.”

Outside the temporary "Fudgies." The original Fudgies that burned down last year, is due to be rebuilt by August.

The Chattanooga Community Kitchen is one of the primary homeless centers in Chattanooga.  It’s a few blocks north of Main Street, right next to the railroad tracks.  On our first day there, we meet Br. Ron Fender.

Br. Ron Fender, a case manager at the Chattanooga Community Kitchen.

Br. Ron Fender is an Episcopal monk with the Gregorian brothers.  He’s lived in Chattanooga for the past seven years.  He walks down Main Street, ministering to the homeless people there. He loves Main Street, but he also sees the misery first hand.

“For me, Main Street is a sad place.”

He’s seen some horrific things: a homeless man died in his arms, he’s helped a young boy who was being prostituted by his parents for crack, he witnessed babies living in the woods just off of Main Street.

Yet Br. Ron still finds hope and humanity here.  He is a man with an overflowing amount of compassion for the down and out, yet Br. Ron is not a pushover.  Part of his vow as a Gregorian monk, he says, “is to live dangerously through his ministry.”  Br. Ron faces danger everyday on this Main Street, and he does not back down.

A man sits outside an abandoned building on Main Street in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

We finally arrive on Main Street in Chattanooga, Tennessee.   Kara and I will be here for two weeks documenting the city’s infamous Main Street.  During our story research, we discovered a website called “Trick the Johns” which is a site created by residents of a neighborhood on Main Street that is trying  to rid the area of prostitution.

We were intrigued to document a Main Street that is not the place  politicians are talking about when they say, “We need to get back to Main Street.”

Chattanooga’s Main Street is a known  prostitution stroll.  On this Main Street, people sell crack.  Right off of this Main Street, there are homeless camps and abandoned buildings.  Yes, the city is revitalizing a portion of Main Street near the downtown area. But out of the more than a mile or so of Main Street which stretches west to east, the revitalization covers only a few blocks.

We park the car at a gas station on the corner of Main and Holtzclaw and take a few pictures of buildings and people out on the street.

A man shows off his leg brace as he walks over to the gas station on Main Street in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

A sign on an abandoned building on Main Street.

Crossing Chattanooga's Main Street.

I walk down Main Street  and take a few photos, too.  As I’m crossing the street, a truck whizzes by me and a man yells out “PROSTITUTE!”

What?

I’m shocked. I’m wearing a below the knee dress, far from revealing.  In fact, I think it’s a little dowdy.  I look around to see if anyone else is on the street…perhaps he was talking to someone else.

Nope.

No one else is around, it’s just me. Apparently, the only women walking on Main Street in Chattanooga are prostitutes, or at least that is what people assume.

We’re on our way to Chattanooga where we’ll spend the next two weeks recording and documenting its Main Street.

Before we get there, we pull off and take a few pictures on Main Street in Hayeseville in North Carolina.

Looking down Main Street in Hayesville, NC.

A boy sits outside of a store on Main Street in Hayeseville, North Carolina.

A sign on Main Street in Hayesville, NC.

Selling some Boston Butt on Main Street in Hayesville, North Carolina.

It’s been five days since we started our Main Street trip, and we decide to take a little break.  We drive through Great Smoky Mountain National Park and then eventually make it to Highlands, North Carolina for lunch.

The Main Street in Highlands, North Carolina is a tourist trap. We take pictures anyway and grab a pizza and then leave.

A man drives down Main Street in Highlands, North Carolina.

Pretty much sums up the Main Street in Highlands, North Carolina.

We’re hungry and Asheville, North Carolina, where we’re staying for the night, is too far for dinner.  We’re trying to figure out where to go and break out the iPhones.  Three people on four iPhones.  There is a contest, whoever can find the best place to eat…well, the prize was never figured out but that was a race.

James finds a place on Chowhound called the Town House in Chilhowie, Virginia.  People rave about it.  “As good as any place in New York City.” It’s on Main Street but way out of our Main Street travel budget.  Our hope is to hit Johnson City for some BBQ.

But we decide that we might as well pull off the highway and onto Chilhowie’s Main Street to take some pictures.  Jesse gets out and goes up and down Main Street.  There’s not much there. The rest of us just sit in the car.

An abandoned building on Main Street in Chilhowie, Virginia.

Suddenly, James jumps out of the car without saying anything (what?), leaving Kara and I wondering what the hell is going on.  Then Jesse runs over, camera swinging, face grinning.

“I just talked to the sommelier of the Town House and he invited us in to eat.”

What?

“Yeah, I told him about our project and he said to come in.”

Let’s just say that this is the best free meal we’ve ever had.

Amazing free food from the Town House in Chilhowie, Virginia on Main Street.

The Town House doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of Main Street Chilhowie.  Over dinner the four of us talk about how towns developed and what the flash points are for a place like Napa Valley.  Around the restaurant are framed archival pictures of Main Street from the 1800s.  Jesse talks about how Main Street business development has changed.  In the early 1900s, Main Street was about moving forward, looking to the future.  Then in the 70s people started to look back, as far back as the 1800s.  Main Street became a way of redevelopment through nostalgia.

We meet the Town House’s owners, Kyra and Tom Bishop.  The two are there with their son’s fiancé who is having a birthday celebration.  Tom Bishop is a fourth generation Chilhowie resident.  The couple met in high school.

Tom and Kyra Bishop, owners of Town House restaurant in Chilhowie, Virginia.

Kyra and Tom own the mill next door  and say they wanted to build a place to entertain clients.  I can see why, the valley here is beautiful.  Tom takes us outside and points out where the old post office used to be.

The situation reminds me of Sinclair Lewis’ 1920 novel Main Street.  Lewis was cynical and critical of Main Street life, but the book did capture the enthusiasm that people had across the country to make their town something bigger, something to celebrate and show off.

The Bishops love this place and they want others to love it, too.

Main Street in Chilhowie, Virginia.

Arson fires in Hinton, West Virginia.

We take off for Main Street Hinton, WV.  Kara used to work around Hinton for the Appalachian Service Project building and fixing homes.  Main Street in Hinton is supposedly a place where there are drugs and prostitutes.  Hinton has had a series of arsons lately.  “Hinton Burning!” reads the the front page of the town’s newspaper.  The locals think otherwise, “It’s meth labs.”

The hills here in Hinton are intense, and it feels like the car is going to flip over.  Main Street isn’t where the arsons have been taking place. It also isn’t the place where there are drugs and prostitutes.  It’s just a residential street over by the New River.

A house on Main Street in Hinton, West Virginia.

An anti-smoking mural on Main Street in Hinton, West Virginia.

The corner of Main and Union streets in Hinton, West Virginia.