This past week I was reminded of the old saying about never being able to go back home. I have often said that I grew up two-miles from nowhere. I believe I confirmed that to my publicist.
It’s been almost 34 years since I was last in South Charleston, Ohio. One year ago last April, I was in Ohio but, due to scheduling, I was unable to squeeze in a visit to my old hometown. So, I ensured it was a priority for this visit. Unfortunately, I didn’t know exactly when I would be in town or for how long until the day of the visit, so there wasn’t enough notice to meet up with anyone I knew in the past, except for my cousins, Randy and Lanell.
South Charleston struck me a convergence of the familiar and the unusual. I expected change. And, based on some pictures my friend Dee McIntosh shared with me following her visit around 9 or 10 year ago, I kind of knew what to expect, But there were also surprises. For example, the building that once housed the defunct South Charleston Sentinel newspaper has been converted into a pizza parlor called The Purple Monkey. The First State Bank that was bought out by The Springfield Bank has since been acquired by rival Security National Bank. Shoemaker’s Grocery is in the same location, although it has expanded a bit. Shoemaker’s Hardware has also expanded, but it moved across the street behind the bank, where the blacksmith shop used to be. However, The Polar Bar soft-serve ice cream stand is still where it has always been since my childhood and open for business during the summer.
For all the changes in town, it was those outside of town that came as the biggest shock. I stopped by the two places I used to live. The first place was on US-42 near the village of Selma. No one was home when I arrived. What was of particular interest to me there was a blue spruce tree in the front yard of our then one-year-old house that my dad and I planted when I was around two-years old. I remember being able to leap over the tree when I was four or five. But by the time I was nine, it was already a couple of feet taller than me. We decorated it with colored lights each of the last several Christmases that we lived there. That tree must be well over sixty feet tall now! Look closely in the picture below. I’m standing beside that giant.
The second place I lived was on the farm on Jamestown Road. Dad bought the land a few years before he retired, and we build a new house there in 1966. The condition of that house led me to believe it had sat vacant for a while. I don’t know that for certain, but it wasn't well maintained. As with the first place I stopped, no one was home. My basketball pole, backboard and rim were still where Dad and I installed them, though I must say I have aged better. Again, trees I planted in the yard are now huge!
From the outset I intended to donate copies of my two most recent publications to the Houston Library. The librarian and her assistant seemed cool to lukewarm about the idea, saying they couldn’t promise anything and the books might be auctioned off. I would prefer the books were made available for people to borrow from that location, but I suppose that if someone has the chance to read them, I’m okay with it. My thoughts were that perhaps someone would read the books and realize what using imagination has done for me. There is a world outside of small town life. Whether it's better or not is open for debate, but if you pursue your dreams your ambitions can become reality. And sometimes you can see the world as I have and write about some of the places you've been.