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Going home again

This weekend we made the trip to an “all-school” reunion at my home town of Childress, Texas. Few of my graduating class members made it, still I enjoyed seeing old friends and acquaintances. I’ve been back periodically over the years, less frequently since my parents moved away a dozen years or so ago. But we took the opportunity to pause and notice changes the intervening years have brought, and appreciated things which have stayed the same.

The local museum has gathered the county’s essence in the form of objects from its history. Amid exhibits of ranching memorabilia and World War II Army Air Base artifacts, a couple items in the schools collection caught my eye–old black-and-white school photos. A 1961 second grade and 1965 first grade class from schools I attended missed me by a couple of years each way. Sobering.

From our third-floor room in an almost-new hotel at the edge of town, I spotted two objects I could identify from my formative years: an old motel which used to be out west of town all by itself, and the town’s water tower in the distance. That was it. All the old familiar sites gone or obstructed by new construction. But down by the old park lake I frequented as a small child, beyond the concrete bench a band of WPA workers built some eighty years ago, ducks swam by muttering the same sweet refrain I remember from my youth.

Some things don’t change.

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  1. June 9, 2014 at 9:36 pm

    It’s hard to go home again. Things inevitable change because that’s life. I think you were brave to attend, Joe. I don’t think I would for fear that reality would ruin my memories. I’m glad it worked out for you.

    Thanks for visiting IWSG’s webpage.

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