[url=https://www.google.com/maps/@41.318058,-81.9974209,13z]Eaton, Ohio[/url] (AKA: NOT where the other two are, but getting there)

Of all the things William Taggart could ride past in a stolen horse and buggy, [i]it had to be an Amish furniture-store[/i] nestled between three churches and an RV-dealership. About a km ahead lay a hardware store and an IGA supermarket, plus a few iconic restaurants of a bygone era of civilization.

But what he was really after, lay the small single-strip Columbia-airport. Big enough to carry a plane that could get him to Cuba, small enough not to be crawling with rotters... except he now needed to find a pilot... and fuel.

His stomach growled, and told him to stop at the IGA.