Another week, another trip to Rutherford County to take my mother to see her doctor down there. The last time my boyfriend and I took her down there, we passed the time while she was seeing her doctor by heading over to downtown
Forest City, which is one of the four small towns comprising the little urban clump at the heart of the county. The other three are Spindale, Ruth, and... Rutherfordton, the county seat.
Naturally, as befits its status as the county seat of government, Rutherfordton is considerably grander than the other communities in the clump. The county courthouse is here, for example, and it's also where the majority of the mill-owners, as well as the county's professionals such as doctors and lawyers, settled as the area grew. As a result, here are the government buildings, the biggest churches, and all the nicest houses because Rutherfordton was where the county's money settled.
However, there is another aspect to Rutherfordton that is even more important, and it is this: Just as Rouen serves as France's secret code-word city, its name unpronounceable except by locals born and bred in the area, so too does Rutherfordton's name defeat all but the locals. And even attempting to spell out the pronunciation phonetically will trip us up.
"RUHTH-fuh-ton" is close, but not quite right, and I've just spent the past five minutes repeating the city's name out loud and I'm still unable to transcribe it just right.
No matter. Here is Rutherfordton.
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Now, you may wonder why I chose such music for such an out-of-the-way backwater, and the reason is because it's a nice jazz tune and in the Jazz Age, Rutherfordton was a community on its way up. Rutherford County at that time was a humming hub of the textile industry and its towns were booming. I'd like to think that good things lie in the future for Rutherford County again someday.