This sounds like a pretty simple life. The kind I’d like to live once I run myself ragged and tire of the city life I’ve always wanted to be a part of.
ROME, Ind. — Edgar Whitcomb lived his early adult life with a politician’s ambition: He cozied up to the right people, he charmed voters, he made himself known.
He made it all the way to governor, serving Indiana from 1969 to 1973.
Then, after an administration that is remembered — if it’s remembered — as fiscally conservative but unremarkable, Whitcomb did a 180: The smiling ribbon-cutter with the made-for-TV cheekbones turned introspective, Thoreau-like; he shunned convention in search of contentment — and obscurity.
Here in this Southern Indiana town of 36 residents, one Methodist church and not a hint of government, not even a postmaster, Whitcomb, at the age of 90, appears to have found both.
Here, he is known not as Gov. Whitcomb or Mr. Whitcomb or even Edgar. He is just plain Ed.
I can see myself going back to a small town, like Salem (that’s a big maybe), but I’d probably want to run for office myself at that point. Maybe when I’m fifty or sixty and I can go back to make that difference I’m always yacking about.