Barns Along The Road

Recently I drove across three midwestern states and I found myself looking at barns that were part of the landscape, proudly constructed in their time of glory. Some barns were freshly painted and still in use, while others stood weathered by time with their wood fading and their roofs sagging, and still others were marked only by stone foundations where a barn once stood.
Each barn seemed to tell a story—of farming and the people who lived there, and the passage of time. These old structures, whether standing strong or barely hanging onto a memory, reminded me how deeply rooted barns are the identity of rural America.
In many ways, barns are more than just buildings. They symbolize hard work, family, and resilience. A barn is where a farmer starts the day, feeds the animals, stores the tools, and sometimes finds a quiet moment for a thought. It’s where I grew up learning about responsibility. It’s where we would gather during harvests or with friends and family to celebrate special occasions.
There’s something comforting about seeing these structures along the road, even in different stages of life. The new metal barns show that farming is still alive and has very much changed. The well-maintained ones reflect pride and tradition. The worn, leaning barns offer a quiet unspoken word of wisdom, seasons have come and gone, but they remain standing. Even when abandoned, a barn stands as a kind of rural monument—evidence of lives lived with determination and purpose.
In many ways, barns can mirror us. Some of us are weathered, while some of us are renewed. We hold stories that others don’t see at first glance, we have been shaped by time, by our labor, and the place we call home. Just like those barns, we endure storms, we carry the weight of responsibility, and we hold within us the memories of the people who we grew up around.
As summer reaches its peak and we travel the roads on vacation, or drive down backroads, or drive to work in the fields, let’s take a moment to notice the barns—old or new—and remember what they represent. They are more than wood and nails; they are part of who we are. May God bless your barn with many wonderful memories.
-Sonny Manley, President- Hebron-