My Hometown.
Zach..You’re freaking awesome! and I totally agree.While everyone I know is wasting time wishing themselves out of it (I used to be one of those kids), I am finally taking a moment to appreciate where I am. Sure, maybe it’s not as exciting as your hometown. Maybe there’s not as much to do. But is is a part of me-a large part. If were to have grown up anywhere else, I would not be who I am. Perhaps, even, I would not love the things I love. I grew up here for a reason, and it took the better of seventeen years to come to grips with that.
I vaguely remember my childhood at all. However, an overall theme is painted clearly in my mind. We had freedom. When we were old enough, my friends and I were allowed to ride our bicycles all over town. Our parents’ only rule was to come back by dark. Had we not lived where we did, I would have never experienced this freedom. I would not have traded that for anything. Some of the greatest adventures I ever experienced were durng those times. We would ride out into the country, get lost on horse trails in the park, discover and ride through newly-created oceans when it flooded, and race around the overly bumpy, brick, cemetery hills. Sure, we didn’t always behave. We found our way into trouble. I remember when we would ride bikes to the softball field with a bucket of baseballs and a few bats and have a home run derby. At one of those lovely derbies, I remember very clearly my brother hitting the roof of one of the houses that sat on the other side of the fence. I am not sure I have ever pedaled as fast as I did that day.
By no means is it at all easy to describe the impact this town of 4000 has had on me. I just know that without it, I would not be me. I am completely unsure of who I would be, but it would not be me. Because I now understand that, I would like to say something I never imagined I would say.
Thank you, Morrison.
