I always wanted to leave my hometown when I was growing up. My actual hometown was tucked in among a string of various sized small towns ranging in populations from 300 to 7,000. All of these towns popped up along the iron range - the length of the largest iron vein in the world (I believe - that’s what the signs say.)
From the late 1800s until the 1960s, mining was money in the area. The hills on the south side of the highway are not hills, but iron ore slag piles now long overgrown with trees and bushes that cover their rust red rocky faces. You’ll still get red on your shoes in some locations. I kind of chuckled this weekend when I pulled on my running shoes and noticed a light red ring around the edge of my soles.
After the mines closed, the towns died. Slowly, one by one the businesses that once dotted these places have disappeared and become more centralized in the largest town. As I ran the streets of residential areas, I saw buildings that looked like they had store fronts at one time. I wondered what they could be - a grocery store, gas station, shoe store or other business. I knew one had to have been a garage of some kind with it’s big overhead doors. Funny to think that people live there now.
On one back street I discovered a church that I had never seen before. It wasn’t new at all, but old. There it stood tucked away among the houses - still open and functioning. Yet there were other buildings churches and schools that now housed other things. My old public grade school and jr. high are now apartments. It’s quite funny to see the vehicles parked on the front lawns and playground. I wonder what it’s like inside?
I walked the streets of the downtown in the largest of the cities there. As a teenager we walked up and down those streets day in and out. Yet, I struggled to remember what was where - the shoe store, the card shop, the old Montgomery Wards and Sears Catalog centers. JcPenneys is now a gym/car dealership. The old Carlson’s Grocery store houses a carpet center. But so many other things are gone - the jewelry shops and pharmacies, the little department store on the corner where I often bought my mother necklaces and jewelry for special occasions, the Woolworth-type dime store with the lunch counter and the town’s biggest candy selection. They were all victims of progress and a changing culture.
I still see a few things that make me smile. They still have some of the old-fashioned bakeries there with to-die-for baked goods. I had the most fabulous cannoli when I was there. Also, there are two pasty shops on the main street. Some things will never change. (I had 4 pasties during my 9 days there.) The old pool hall is still there and of course, a wide variety of bars and taverns to choose from. Some of the names have changed, but you can still belly up there.
And there’s the Big Indian, as we call him.
Limited employment opportunities drive the young folks away. The economy is bad. While schools are bursting at the seams here in Virginia, up there, they are closing or consolidating students into centralized location. I ran by the old Norrie grade school that just shut it doors in June. Students will find space in a section of the high school no longer needed due to dwindling numbers.
It’s no surprise I left. But in a way, it hurts to see the place that way. It saddens me. Progress has come, but in it’s wake the entire face of the town has changed.
So while I ran the streets on my vacation, I let the nostalgia eat me up in some ways. I let the memories weigh thick on my mind and my heart. I showed my sons the best parts of what is left and the things that progress will not take away - the lakes and rivers, the forests, the beauty of the place.
We’ll be back. I’ve gone, but I’ll be back.
