Yes, at least it was to me. When I was a road warrior and used to inspect hotels, I checked into a hotel in Kentucky in a relatively remote town. Tired of dining on fast food, I asked the desk staff if there was a restaurant they recommended. They sent me to to a B&B on the main street, which was about 4 blocks in length. The food wonderful and the ambiance was charming.
On my way out, I stopped to tell the man at the host station how much I enjoyed it. We got to chatting. It turns out that he was the owner, and he offered to give me a tour of the place. What he had done was incredible. He wasn’t finished, but what he was doing was a labor of love in restoring the building and furnishing it to the style of its original time.
He then offered to take me across the street to an abandoned house he had recently purchased that used to be part of The Underground Railroad. I accepted.
Being female in a remote location, I later realized that it was a stupid risk. It just seemed like an opportunity to experience a part of U.S. history that was too good to pass up. My instincts about the man and the experience were right on the money.