chapter 2:
old Kentucky home
old Kentucky home
PARK CITY
Miss Betty's
A bell signals the arrival of new customers stepping into the dining room of Miss Betty’s Diner, which sits on the southern edge of Park City.
When someone walks through those doors, they’re family. “I always want [them] to feel like they’re walking into Grandma’s kitchen again, that same feeling, that warm feeling, that good food, home feeling… you’ve walked back into Grandma’s kitchen and you’re home,” said Betty Swiger, owner of the diner.
When someone walks through those doors, they’re family. “I always want [them] to feel like they’re walking into Grandma’s kitchen again, that same feeling, that warm feeling, that good food, home feeling… you’ve walked back into Grandma’s kitchen and you’re home,” said Betty Swiger, owner of the diner.
The usual crowd fills the seats of Miss Betty's Diner early Friday morning as Wendy Cross rushes from table to table, delivering warm breakfast platters with one hand and refilling coffee cups with the other.
Portrait of all three generations working in Miss Betty's Diner: (Left to right) Savanah, Betty and Wendy.
Miss Betty’s Diner got its start in Smiths Grove, but when that location was bought out by Speedway, Betty thought it might be the end of her business due to skyrocketing rent costs in the area.
“I left it up to God, and I went home,” Betty said. Soon after, her uncle told her he’d found a vacant space in Park City. When the diner first opened, it consisted of one single room attached to the kitchen, but the adoring fans of the diner's good cooking made it clear the small space wasn’t enough to hold all of Miss Betty’s customers.
The community is woven into the fabric of this business. Betty has gone out of her way to deliver food to community members in need that can’t make it out to get food on their own. Her daughter, Wendy Cross, works long shifts to help manage the restaurant and still knows most of the customers by name. Betty’s granddaughter, Savanah, saves her tip money to buy toys at Christmas time for local children who otherwise wouldn’t open something from their wishlist on Christmas morning. Betty hopes that the business will stay in the family for many years to come. “And with these people here,” she said, “I have no doubt in my mind that they’ll always keep this going on.”
“I left it up to God, and I went home,” Betty said. Soon after, her uncle told her he’d found a vacant space in Park City. When the diner first opened, it consisted of one single room attached to the kitchen, but the adoring fans of the diner's good cooking made it clear the small space wasn’t enough to hold all of Miss Betty’s customers.
The community is woven into the fabric of this business. Betty has gone out of her way to deliver food to community members in need that can’t make it out to get food on their own. Her daughter, Wendy Cross, works long shifts to help manage the restaurant and still knows most of the customers by name. Betty’s granddaughter, Savanah, saves her tip money to buy toys at Christmas time for local children who otherwise wouldn’t open something from their wishlist on Christmas morning. Betty hopes that the business will stay in the family for many years to come. “And with these people here,” she said, “I have no doubt in my mind that they’ll always keep this going on.”
Savanah (right) smiles while eating some unsold cake from the day at closing time as a a waitress finishes counting her tips from the day while taking a call.
CAVE CITY
"After the interstate was built, fewer cars came down this way."
-Vichael Cline
-Vichael Cline
Vichael Cline has lived in his new house for only three years, but he has lived on his property at the edge of Cave City since 1956. His father owned the property then; despite being only about 10 years old when moving to the property, Vichael remembers the traffic that used to back up on the road around rush hour. But, as the years went on, fewer and fewer cars came through, and the once-new motels and tourist shops in the area became old and were left behind.
Vichael worked with his son-in-law and right-hand man, Andy Highbaugh, to repair the fence along the edge of his property. A sinkhole from Cave City’s most notable attraction, Mammoth Cave, had caused Highway 31W to collapse and take with it a section of fence from his property.
Vichael worked with his son-in-law and right-hand man, Andy Highbaugh, to repair the fence along the edge of his property. A sinkhole from Cave City’s most notable attraction, Mammoth Cave, had caused Highway 31W to collapse and take with it a section of fence from his property.
Vichael pauses for a moment in his work, hands battered from the task, to gaze forward.
ROWLETTS
Chicken Swap
David Moore of Rowletts sells a chicken to a customer from Campbellsville. Participants traveled from all over Kentucky early in the morning to sell their poultry at the Hart County Chicken Swap.
Tires mull through the dewy grass, coming to a halt in the morning sun outside Rowletts’ VFW. As trucks are unloaded, squawks and calls shatter the serene sounds of the morning as chickens, roosters, and other feathered folk are set out by hopeful vendors ready to sell and trade during another Saturday sale at the Hart County Chicken Swap.
The weekly event is young in comparison to the traditions of Hart County’s rolling hills. The swap hasn’t missed a Saturday since its start in July 2022. Founder RT Logsdon had a penchant for chicken swaps and was done with driving for hours to find one. Despite his main occupation dealing with metal and oil as a mechanic, Logsdon finds happiness in the community of people with a passion for all things feathered. The community welcomes all, from young to old and from Rowlett natives to visitors from Campbelsville. They also hold other vendors who sell anything from plants to candy.
For many attendees, the Hart County Chicken Swap is more than just a place to buy and sell birds. It’s a chance to connect with a community of like-minded people who share their love for poultry. Visitors swap stories and tips, ask for advice, or simply chat with other attendees about their birds.
The weekly event is young in comparison to the traditions of Hart County’s rolling hills. The swap hasn’t missed a Saturday since its start in July 2022. Founder RT Logsdon had a penchant for chicken swaps and was done with driving for hours to find one. Despite his main occupation dealing with metal and oil as a mechanic, Logsdon finds happiness in the community of people with a passion for all things feathered. The community welcomes all, from young to old and from Rowlett natives to visitors from Campbelsville. They also hold other vendors who sell anything from plants to candy.
For many attendees, the Hart County Chicken Swap is more than just a place to buy and sell birds. It’s a chance to connect with a community of like-minded people who share their love for poultry. Visitors swap stories and tips, ask for advice, or simply chat with other attendees about their birds.
The May family prepares to set up their truck to display their birds for sale while a neighboring group waits for a customer near their plant booth.
Harley May leans on a cage of chickens her mother and father have for sale at the Hart County Chicken Swap. While Harley loves the chickens and roosters they have at home, her sister, Kinley May, is not so fond of them.
*Click to hear Kinley May speak her mind about the birds swapped at the event*
BONNIEVILLE
“Bonnieville is a dying town,” Mike Ard sighs as he stands on his mothers’ front porch. A deep red decor of stars, chairs and an orb on a pedestal tastefully embellish the front of the red bricked home. With a quick glance to the house next door, which happens to be his childhood home, Ard remembers a bygone era. Ard has been living with his mother for the past four years in her old age, but has been supporting her for nearly 30 years.
While the well-loved downtown of Bonnieville holds fond memories, it has fallen into disrepair. Passing ghostly buildings that whisper promises of good times past, a traveler driving through comes across rows and rows of homes with character at their forefront. Every house has a porch, and every porch has personality. Some porches are decorated with maximalism in mind, with baubles and trinkets, while others are adorned minimalistically with a simple bench, book and half-filled ashtray. Despite the claims of the town fading into the past, the community is alive.
ELIZABETHTOWN
With the expansion of roadways and increasing vehicle speeds in the early 20th century, roadkill became a more common and relatively new fate for wildlife. In the United States today, over one million vertebrate animals are killed in roadway collisions daily.
Dixie Highway has a long standing reputation of being a dangerous road to travel along, coining the nickname “Dixie Dieway” for decades. Fast speed limits, cross traffic turns and a lack of medians create the perfect concoction for a collision.
“Dixie Highway has been called ‘Dixie Dieway’ for as long as I can remember,” said Louisville Metro Councilwoman Cindi Fowler to Wave 3 News. “I always lived off of the highway close in the Valley Station area. The fatality rate is just the worst highway in the state.”
“Dixie Highway has been called ‘Dixie Dieway’ for as long as I can remember,” said Louisville Metro Councilwoman Cindi Fowler to Wave 3 News. “I always lived off of the highway close in the Valley Station area. The fatality rate is just the worst highway in the state.”
History of 31W
Archival provided by Paul Urbahns
After 2,248 wrecks occurred from 2013-17, Elizabethtown planned a series of three construction zones known as the 31-W Rehab project. The Radcliff/Elizabethtown Metropolitan Planning Organization says many of these collisions are related to an overabundance of driveways, intersections and median openings. The $14 million rehab project focuses on the North Dixie Highway, with a goal of improving median engineering to protect both drivers and pedestrians. Since the first year of the renovations, there has been a 41.5% decrease in car crashes along the first segment of reinvented road. The Kentucky Transportation Cabinet worked with community businesses on a one-on-one basis. The local paper, The News Enterprise, did not mention how these conversations went or what kind of support local businesses received beyond the expansion notice.