there's something to be said for growing up in a small town. the obvious thing is everybody knows everybody. sometimes it's the best part. sometimes it's the worst. everybody knows everybody.... everybody knows everybody's business, everyone's families, every illness, birth, death. all of it. there is certain amount of comfort in that fact.
of course the smallness of small town living isn't for everyone. when you live somewhere like appomattox, the smallness can stifle people. if you are different, small town living can be a cell in a glass jail house. everyone sees your insecurities, your left leaning views, your sexuality, all of it becomes fodder for the soccer moms, the church crowd, the teachers, bus drivers, checkers at the people's walmart...you know, everyone. the same could be said for a far left small community and you were...gasp...a republican. that thought gives me bernie in vermont vibes. i truly wonder if that happens in bernie and noah kahan country.
granted, most of that isn't my experience. while obviously i've spent most of my life as a heathen liberal living in rural virginia, most people have left me alone and have "loved me anyway", the saying drives me crazy the older i get. nevertheless, my experience is such that i choose this place over and over to live and work, and i'm proud of having grown up there and would give anything to live back in the old oaksville.
oh oaksville. the depot. the little spot in appo that was so small that if you blinked you missed it. that said, the people, culture, community was like none other. everyone was your neighbor and likely in your congregation on sunday mornings. you were either baptist or methodist and if you weren't in church you were obviously misled and a big ol' heathen. it makes me giggle to write that part, but it was always a joke mom and another neighbor down the road would say to each other.
we were particularly close on our road with our neighbors on both sides. the kinds of neighbors that always had the cup of sugar when you needed it, the ones that had kids my age on the weekends, who checked on you when you were sick, who stopped by to see what was going on, or fed your dog when you went on vacation. it makes me wonder how we got away from those kinds of neighbors. i surely don't know my neighbors here, that's for sure and if someone stops by my house i'd be wary to say the least. small town living isn't like that. or at least it wasn't like that when i was a kid. i guess times do change, along with people's attitudes and fears of the unknown.
recently, dad, chris, and i were able to spend some really good quality time together. it wasn't for a particularly joyous reason, or even for christmas, but we enjoyed it nonetheless. the night we were all together, we were trying to stay awake long enough to ensure a good night's sleep after many days of sadness and anxiety. we posted up at the kitchen island and started "appo talks". i have become the point person for all things appo and home. as the appointed person, i'm supposed to know all the people of oaksville's business and beyond. i really don't know all of it, even if they always think i do or should. apparently now i also need to know all the pamplin business too, which is wildly unfair, because i only lived in the pamplin house for two years, but i digress. i had to fill those two chuckleheads in on all of the: illnesses, deaths, births, marriages, divorces, and whereabouts of all the oaksville people.
we spent a good while reminiscing about the 'people of oaksville'. you know you live in a small town when....everybody has a name. not a given name, obviously. we had to talk about dump, frog, and bodine, and everyone else, who are simply known as "bo". hey bo! it's not just an appomattox or oaksville thing either--over on the eastern shore, they have string, freezie boy, rat, and probably a stick too, idk. you know those city slickers in lynchburg don't have frog, bo, or string that's for damn sure.
we had to go back to basics--who lived where, who took over the corner houses (that would be cheryl lynn and claudia), what chuck was up to and whether chris talks to him; who runs the store (we hear it's a foreigner who serves killer burgers), how i came to eat store hot dogs with mayo and ketchup (thanks to frog), and all about the families who reside along 26 and and what has become of all the people. dad was surprised to hear that the dump was manned, that there was a bed and breakfast in our yankee friends' former home, that seth was currently coaching in (god forbid) buckingham and has become a buckanight. of course i had to fill him in on all the drama of the church leaving the UMC. with my limited understanding. i gave info where i had it, consulted the current owner of one of the corner houses, and we googled the rest.
after i gave all the info i had, dad and chris moved on to pamplin lore, which i had less information about, but dad filled us in on all the history that he knew and remembered about every richardson on the plane that lived on piney ridge. he was sad to hear of the passing of a classmate's dad, which served as the impetus of that whole conversation. i learned a lot about life in the ever growing metropolis of pamplin from when they lived there way back in the 70's. i guess their pamplin became my oaksville.
of course no appomattox reminiscing would be complete without a rundown of all of dad's former workmates, classmates, and friends. how we didn't touch on church softball leagues is beyond me. maybe next time. we had to talk about his extensive network of work mates that he met while working in engineering in central virginia for 40 years. you really take for granted the breadth of his experience, but the man worked with some amazing people at b&w, wiley & wilson, southern air, and moore's and went to college with a lot of the people in the industry as well. of course i always love hearing stories about one of my friend's dads, who dad was sad to learn had passed. he remembered him fondly and i got to hear the story of how they got in such a way that dad left tire marks all over the poor guy's yard. it makes me giggle just thinking about it.
chris and i learned a new one this time--all about the apartment mom and dad had in downtown appo right around the corner from wilkes' jewelry store. the story of that and the first tv bought on main street were new to me. i had always heard about the house near the wow building and very old wilbun's grocery store, but never the apartment. you learn something new every day.
the small town experience is one unlike any other. close knit, nosy as hell, but always willing to help a neighbor. church, ball, and eating are the hobbies of just about every community member, with a side of judgement in the name of being helpful...bless their hearts. would i trade it for city living? or even bigger town living? absolutely not. it becomes a thread in the tapestry of who you are so to speak. it forms you in all the ways, both good and bad. some break free and move past the dairy queen, or at least travel beyond the dairy queen which i feel like i've done in a lot of ways but it draws you back, which i am forever appreciative of.
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