My Hometown
There was a time in my life when I didn’t think much of my home town. I considered it terribly backwoods in comparison to the metropolis of Denver. To my chagrin, I recall making disparaging comments about Parkersburg, and West Virginia in general to anyone and everyone. It’s a wonder they didn’t revoke my home state status and mark me down as “hatched from under a rock”. What can I say? I never rebelled as an adolescent. I saved it all for long after I should have known better.
I remember making such comments to one of my oldest, dearest friends. We went to high school together and we’re “sisters of different parentage”. As a matter of fact, when I went off to live outside London for two years then settled in Denver, it was my high school friend who kept a close, personal friendship with my mom. She was a much better daughter to her in those days than I was. When I spoke ill of my fellow Mountaineers and this Wild and Wonderful state, she had some pretty stern words to say to me.
“You just remember where you came from, missy. I knew you when you had nothing, just like me!”
Oh, she was so right. I was feeling pretty full of myself…a doctor’s wife and all. Like…small town girl does good. I was an ass. Plain and simple. And I’ve done my best to make up for it. As Maya Angelou said…“We do what we know. And when we know better, we do better.” These last three years, I’ve spent more time in West Virginia than I had in all of the forty years prior. I’ve grown to love and appreciate this rugged state filled with can-do, sturdy individuals. I still get frustrated sometimes when I see progress thwarted at every turn. But maybe staying a little backward is ok. Yeah, we have been hit hard with drug problems. Poverty, obesity, poor education run rampant. Plants and mines closing down. Towns with nothing for kids to do but make more kids that do nothing. But, at the base, there is this amazing depth of pride for coming up through the hard times and standing tall when they play the National Anthem at the Friday night football games at every high school in every county. The mountains run through our veins like the coal beneath our feet and we are a fiercely proud, fiercely independent, fiercely loyal group of people.
Last night, as Mr. FixIt and I sat and watched the sun set over the Ohio River at Fort Boreman Park, we looked out over this town we grew up in. You could see where the houses sat on Quincy Hill where Mr. FixIt grew up. You could see Ohio across the river. I snapped photo after photo, trying to capture for you the essence of West Virginia…of Parkersburg…of my home town. In the end, it is in the peaceful colors of the setting sun that I see the famous blue and gold…West Virginia’s colors. And I realized that we are the river and the sky, the mountains and the valleys, the wooded hillsides and the amber fields. We will always be here. Montani Semper Liberi…Mountaineers are always free. ❤️
“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” 2 Corinthians 3:17 NIV