A sense of place

For some people, place is an important part of their life. For instance, my sister Virginia, who was born in a farm home some eight miles south of Culbertson made arrangements to be buried in Grove Cemetery only about one mile from her place of birth. Still, she spent the greater part of her lifetime living north to south along the West Coast of our beloved USA. She even lived for a time in Boston about as far from her place of birth that is possible and still stay within the confines of our country.

Yet we as a people, with few exceptions, are descended from immigrants who came from homes across the seas to make this fantastic country that we know today. Even as we currently watch TV we see waves of immigrants, mostly illegal, crossing our southern border obviously with the intent of finding a home in our land of freedom. Most are leaving their country of birth and moving into what they perceive as the mecca of opportunity for a better life. The question that I’ve been pondering in my mind is why. Why not stay and improve the community in which one lives rather than become a stranger in a whole different world?

For the immigrants who are coming from countries like Venezuela that have become Socialist hellholes, it is easy to understand why they want to leave. Even our close neighbor Cuba under Communist-leaning dictator Fidel experienced thousands of their better citizens escape their island home. Probably most came to Florida and established a dynamic community there after our beloved President J. F. Kennedy botched our country’s response to Castro’s takeover. Hopefully, all these new immigrants will integrate into our established societies and leave the corrupted politics of their failed countries behind.

In my own ancestor history my forebearers, best we can tell, were Scottish and immigrated to the eastern US from Ireland. Interesting history that as the Irish had been invaded by the Scots and those who stayed were not well accepted. Both sides seemed happier to have the Scots move on to developing America. As for the maternal side of the ancestry, they came from Bohemia which seemed to always be involved in the ongoing minor wars in Europe. For neither side did ethnic history seem that important and homesteading free land in rural USA a much better option. Personally, I am thankful for their decisions and the perseverance it took to make it happen.

In our own life, Grannie and I have lived in all four corners of the United States. At each location, we made friends of the local people and joined in when we could in doing the things that helped make each place unique. I’m recalling clam bakes, boiled lake trout, snowmobiling, mountain climbing (hiking), ventures into Mexico to dine and shop, church camps in Oklahoma, Mount Rushmore and the panorama there. Interesting, fun, and even some worth going back for and doing again. Mostly though it is just good memories to recall and enjoy. Then there were the trips overseas working for the military sans family for me. Interesting yet feeling like an outsider in the so-different foreign cultures. It has been quite an adventure, but none compares to living back home in the community where I started life and our marriage together.

At this stage of life, Grannie and I are content to stay and contribute to life in this community. We enjoy the people and the activities available. We have never taken the opportunity to travel to the southern locations to spend the winter in a retirement community somewhere. It looks expensive and frankly quite boring. “Where will we eat supper this evening? How long will the line be to wait?” Maybe we are missing something but we like the things to do here back home.

Do I choose for my final resting place to be surrounded by relatives that have gone on before? Not likely as a historic opportunity arose to be a member of the first graduating class of the United States Air Force Academy. Grannie and I have chosen to rest in the beautiful cemetery there located at the foot of the Rockies and not all that far from our original homes. It will be our permanent place but there is no hurry to get there!

That is how I saw it.

Dick Trail