Reconnecting With My Beginnings During a Sentimental Visit Home
My Recent Two and a Half Weeks in Preston County, West Virginia
This essay is dedicated to my sweet mentor Dennett, with thanks to Louise Peacock for fostering our connections here.
“…as I draw closer and closer to the end, I travel in a circle nearer and nearer to the beginning.” *
Returning to my home place for my father’s funeral, I took time to revel in all that was good in my upbringing in West Virginia.
My parents gifted me with their genes and a stable home. My grandparents lived within a few miles, and I had many cousins to visit frequently. While many have scattered across the USA, many have remained in the county. I enjoyed chatting with my cousins and getting to know some of their children during my visit.
A dear cousin came with his girlfriend and treated us to buckwheat pancakes, a Preston County specialty. These two have made this breakfast for my dad every Sunday morning over the last many years.
My niece and her husband came with their precious baby son. It was a joy to see what committed parents they are.
I relished watching deer grazing in the pasture, and I often walked the neighborhood. I loved seeing acres and acres of green fields and lawns.
The many lush, green views offered a dramatic contrast to our dry landscape on California’s central coast.
The typography of the area is unique in that roads follow ridges instead of creeks. As I drove from place to place, I was enamored with extensive, beautiful green vistas from one ridge to another and yet another. So different from road placement in the west.
Although the town and county populations have grown, minimal changes have occurred. The pike has been upgraded to two lanes, the intersection of the pike with routes 7 & 92 now has 4-way stops to reduce accidents, and Dogtown Road has been nicely paved and striped.
There are new houses here and there, and modular and mobile homes have been added to many properties. But, in contrast, some places are sadly moldering away.
As the leaves changed each day, I regretted not having set up a daily practice to photograph one or two trees to document the dramatic changes over two weeks. The leaves went from soft greens to bright yellows and oranges right before my eyes.
The Mom & Pop stores I grew up with are long gone, and a Walmart is strategically located to serve county residents.
I marveled at the differences between that Walmart and the one near my home in California. The range of merchandise there was terrific. From this, I concluded that some locals are well off and buy high-end specialty food items and that many eat too many snacks and carbs.
The wide range of nonfood items covers all daily living needs in this convenient, one-stop shopping venue. I also noted that the array of party options suggests that residents know how to enjoy life and celebrate occasions.
I connected with three friends from my graduating class and spoke to friendly neighbors.
I learned about the efforts of the many volunteers at the town’s New Deal Homestead Museum ** that was established in 1984, long after I had moved away. I felt the effects of the vitalizing genius of Darlene Bolyard and her young staff, who are working to nurture community enthusiasm against all odds in these crazy times.
It is lovely to see the changes wrought by the dual mission of museum preservation and community spirit-building that Bolyard and her volunteers have achieved. I wish them continued success.
For most of the last 25 years, I have gone home for a week in the spring and another in the fall. I love to see the emerging leaves in the spring and the fall color display of deciduous woodlands that are so unlike our western landscapes. However, now that both my parents are gone, and I am becoming ever more averse to travel, *** I am sad that I will no longer make these trips.
I want to see my younger sister and brother, who remain in West Virginia, but I will encourage them to visit me here on the California central coast.
I love West Virginia, but after living here for 55 years, I have become a Californian.
*From Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities as quoted in Becoming Myself: A Psychiatrist’s Memoir by Irvin D. Yalom.
**See https://iserve.wvu.edu/agency/detail/?agency_id=50491 and https://www.facebook.com/arthurdaleheritage/ Please feel free to give them a donation in honor of my father, Lawrence Kenneth Moran.
***See When You Are Too Old to Travel, Things Get Complicated | by David Mokotoff | Crow’s Feet | Oct, 2022 | Medium David Mokotoff
