Small Town

I was born in the Hoosier State; the Crossroads of America, the Heartland, the Mid-west. I was born in Indiana. I’ve never ridden the rides at Indiana Beach. I’ve never heard the engines of the Indy 500 cars, but I have seen Peyton Manning throw a touchdown pass to Marvin Harrison; on my big screen TV in my living room at least. The man who invented the TV, Philo Farnsworth, well his old house is about a 30 minute drive from where I live. There’s a plaque in front of it. I live in a small town. The landscape consists mostly of cornfields and the occasional soy bean field. The population is 1,113 give or take a few people. It’s like most small towns; everyone knows everyone’s business. Neighbors converse in back yards complaining about how so-and-so needs to cut their grass before the town council has to be notified. Kids ride their bikes up and down the streets, shouting, annoying the older members of the community. It’s a quaint town, really. We even have a fair once a year. A 3 day celebration filled with unhealthy, deep fried foods of all sorts. There’s a parade on the third day.I googled my town once. This is what I got…

The town was founded in 1907. Today it is known for its antique stores and is surrounded by Amish farms.

The Amish are an interesting people. Even after nearly 19 years of living around them I still don’t understand their willingness to subject themselves to harsh, Indiana winters by claiming a horse-drawn buggy as their only mode of transportation. It forces me to question their intelligence. Why didn’t they root their culture somewhere warm? Sunny California maybe. Can you picture it? A brown mare carting an Amish family’s black buggy pulls up to a shiny 2008 Mercedes at a stop light on Rodeo Drive

Antique stores saturate my town. When I was younger, in the mornings on the way to school, I would see senior citizens unloading buses with eager eyes and hefty pocket books ready to purchase their favorite hand-sewn quilt or old-fashion, wood-burning stove. All very practical and useful items to purchase. Right.

As I got older, every year the town seemed less and less interesting. There were no longer any adventures I hadn’t been on, no more secret places I hadn’t revealed, no more alleys I hadn’t ridden my bike down. The town had lost it’s appeal, if it ever really had any. Eventually, I ditched my purple Huffy for a new set of wheels. A set of wheels with an engine and a steering wheel. Along with my first car came new adventures. Blaring the radio, windows down, a friend in every seat we rolled through the town like we owned it. 

I’ll be 19 on August 5. I’ve lived in the same tan house in the same small town for almost 19 years. I’m leaving for college August 16. I’m leaving my tan house and my small town and essentially everything I’ve ever known.