Monday, February 23, 2009

Will they have the bond of a hometown?

Have you ever been to your high school reunion? My partner tells me she goes all the time, but she does it on the computer thanks to facebook. I'll agree with that, but I'm talking face-to-face. In-person. The kind where you shake hands and pat each other on the back and say things like "good to see you," and "we'll have to keep in touch."

I recently crossed paths with some familiar souls who knew me in another life. There were nearly a dozen of us who'd all received a primary education at the same institution of lower learning. We'd all shared a meal or two at the Front Street Junction. We'd all crossed the Red River at one time or another to shop at a place known only as "Foreman," even though it was dozens of miles from the actual town of Foreman, Arkansas. And we'd all stood up and pointed our finger in the sky while singing the same school song.

It was a birthday party for a friend. The setting: A little roadhouse along I-35 that featured a Stevie Ray Vaughn tribute band. This group of hometowners is certainly dynamic. Some of them drove 3 hours to be there, and the guest of honor isn't even a blood-relative! At one point during the festivities, I was sitting away from the group on a stool and observing the surroundings. The guest of honor came up to me and thanked me for coming. He was truly amazed at everyone making the trip. I reached my hands out toward the crowd and motioned to him "They all came for you and you're not even dead!" He got a kick out of that, especially since his chosen career is 'funeral director.'

We spent the evening listening to the live band with a lead guitarist that dressed up just like SRV. We listened to the jukebox when the band was on break. We played pool. We took a lot of pictures and talked of old times. The big tall fella with the longhorns shirt was known for his trivial talents. He could tell with certain accuracy- what kind of vehicle any kid in De Kalb drove when he was in school, while I could tell you what year anybody in De Kalb graduated from high school.




Some of the people in this crew from Saturday have children, including me. Like most of the group, I left the hometown years ago. My children were born far away from Bowie County. They don't know the place I knew. I have to wonder about their ties to home. Not their house, but their town. Their community. Their place. How to people like military brats do it? Anytime I meet someone who moved around a lot as a kid, I'm in awe because of the adventures they must have experienced. I'm also in wonder at the adventures they may have missed.


Among the birthday party group, there's probably one kiddo who will know some of that ol'
De Kalb magic. A young man named Peyton may find it. But kids like Hattie, Sadie, Cooper, Ellerby, Riley, Princess, and Robb... they'll only know it if they spend enough time at their grandparents.


Maybe they'll all develop that bond their parents have.
The bond of a hometown.


I hope so.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Back east...

We ventured out once again for the weekend and headed for Texarkana to see my grandparents. Along the way, we stopped in what's left of Petty, Texas. This image is an old crossing over the T&P line. If you were riding a train across here back in the day, this would be known as mile post 109. That means you're more than 100 miles from the Texarkana terminal.

2 or 3 or more generations of my Daddy's family worked for railroads. I remember when Daddy worked the Texarkana to Bonham job across this very rail line.

On my Mama's side of the family, my great-great-aunt Nora lived at Petty. When she was living, she told me anytime a train passed through she wondered if my Daddy was on it.

Daddy still works aboard trains, but I suspect it won't be long before he makes his last run as a paid employee. Retirement is just around the bend.

The rail line? It's all but gone now, but it comes alive when you remember the people that made it happen and kept towns like Petty, Texas alive for as long as they could.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Aim High Texoma

Matt Ashcraft and I on break from surveying Lone Grove tornado damage. Feb 11, 2009

Monday, February 9, 2009

A trip home

The family and I spent the weekend back in a familiar place. One of my columnist mentors likes to call these kinds of places "the old hometown." He actually has several "old hometowns" that can be referred to with the same blanket phrase, and I catch myself doing that from time to time but this place deserves more recognition than that.

Brazos County, Texas only has 5 incorporated towns within its borders. There's Millican, Wixon Valley, Kurten, Bryan, and College Station. I love them all.

I'd been 18 years old for exactly one month when I packed my bags and left De Kalb and moved into a dormitory on the campus of Texas A&M. It was a family affair that I remember well. I'll spare the details of all that happened between the time I arrived in Brazos County and the day I left. We'll save all that for future dispatches.

I'll add to this later, because It's reading like there's a big hole here. And there is.
But I'll say now that I left a big part of me back there.