Growing Up In The South

Unfortunately, I didn't grow up in the South. Although I spent several years with my bare feet running the hollers and coal dust roads in Widen, West Virginia, Daddy moved us to Ohio, where in the early 50s, the rubber companies were hiring in Akron.

But until I was seven or eight, Daddy would stuff us all in the family car every weekend and haul us "down home." That was home to them. West Virginia was where Grandma and Grandpa lived and where Grandpa worked for the Elk River Coal and Lumber Company for thirty-seven years. It's where Daddy and his brothers knew everybody and everybody knew Troy King's boys. I'd beg to stay, and usually, they'd let me stay during the summer months. My cousins and I would run to the Widen Grille every day and wait for Grandpa to get off work. We'd flag him down in his old Ford pickup, and he'd stop and holler for us to jump in the back. With our cokes and bags of chips in our laps, Connnie, Margie, and me ... we'd giggle all the way back to the house in the back of that truck. And talk about filthy. Kids that played in Widen were not only covered in dust and dirt, we had the sooty coal dust all over us, as well. My Aunt Emogene said it made us grow if we ate at least a cup of Widen dirt every year.

But we didn't care. It was life in the coal camp.

Ohio was not home to Mama and Daddy. Never was. From the late 50s until they left Ohio in 1995 and moved to Florida, Ohio was not their home. It's where they raised their kids, worked, and went to church ... but it was never their home. I can't tell you how many times I've heard them say it.

Now ... for all the Yankees in Ohio ... (my son and daughter included) it's not the worst place to live. But to me, living in Ohio is like being in limbo. Most folks there have roots from the South, their fathers and grandfathers went there for the same reasons mine did ... work. But some of the folks around Wayne and Holmes Counties have deeper roots in the soil there ... tilled by German descendants. The rolling hills around Kidron, Mt. Eaton, and Wooster are still some of the most beautiful places in that state to visit. One of my favorite stops when I head up that way is the Kidron Cheese House on the corner of Rt. 30 and the Kidron Road, and a restaurant called The Barn, in Smithville. These idyllic communities are places of peace to me.

I know there are other beautiful farms in Ohio, but you can have the rest of the state and it's consistent nasty weather. I suppose the feelings of my parents rubbed off on me over the years, because I was always searching for "home." It was never there.

When I finally moved to the South ... my heart swallowed it whole. I never looked back. And except for the few remaining friends and family who live there, I don't miss it. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, my past lives were all spent in the South, I have no doubt. After thirty-five years of my soul adrift, I finally found my home.

But I still root for The Ohio State Buckeyes. (Some old habits die hard.)

Blessings to you and yours.