Blast from the Past

I got an update on FaceBook a day or two ago that the Tallassee High football games were going to be streamed live on the internet by the local radio station. Pretty sophisticated, I thought - not like the Tallassee I remembered at all. I missed the game broadcast watching TV with the kids, but tuned in to the audio stream afterwards for a little bit of the postgame show. I also watched a part of a video on the web site. I was struck by something really odd.

I've been back to Tallassee many times since I left for college - I went back "home" for many weekends and breaks from school. Even when my brother and sister graduated and my parents moved (briefly) to Ohio, I still went to Tallassee every once in while for a wedding or funeral or to visit relatives who, ironically, moved there after I left. But from the summer of 1992 onward, Tuscaloosa gradually replaced Tallassee as my home, and the friendships and memories that I have from those days have largely faded over time. So what was odd about tonight?

First, in the snippet of video I watched, I saw five or six people who I knew from high school all hanging out together and having a good time. Then on the audio stream of the postgame show I heard other familiar names and voices, both in the studio and on the phone. The hosts were asking callers to answer a trivia question, and the names of coaches I remembered from years back - some still around and some who have passed on - were mentioned. And I thought about the two types of people I knew from those days. First, there were those, like me, who couldn't wait to leave town after we graduated. Maybe some thought they were bigger or wanted more than small-town life. A few probably wanted to escape memories, or who they were back there. Leaving allowed them to start over. Some appreciated the opportunity to be nurtured in a warm, close-knit community, but needed to spread their wings toward new horizons. Some were transplants to begin with, and never really felt like they fit in. Whatever the reason, many former classmates and Tallasseeans have moved on without looking back.

But there was another type of person. Many of these grew up in Tallassee - maybe their parents and grandparents did too. They enjoyed the small-town life and the close-knit community. And for whatever reason, they stayed. Some even went off to college and came back to make their life there. Tallassee will always be home to them.

I used to think this type of person - the kind who either grew up and never left or left briefly and came back - as inferior in a way. "Why would you want to live in Tallassee the rest of your life?" As I've gotten older and become a parent, I've begun to see the inherent value in a place where a kid could ride his bicycle to the library or play in someone else's field without fear; where our neighbors didn't even lock their doors when they went out; where life was slow and simple, even if it wasn't always easy.

This phenomenon of course isn't limited to my hometown. Everyone has a similar story - "I couldn't wait to leave" or "I wanted to live the rest of my life there." I have never regretted leaving my former hometown. Ours was always a love-hate relationship. But for a little while tonight I did find myself wondering what might have made that group of old friends live out their lives there, and, I admit, pondered wistfully what might have been.