Reminiscing

This time of year always makes me nostalgic. In the fall of 1979, our family started preparing to build our first home. We moved in when I was 7, and Jacob was 3. My parents cleared the acre and a half by hand, after the initial work by Mr. Fuller, who made the rough path through the woods with his bulldozer. We loved playing in the lean-to my Mom and Dad set up, and eating snacks, and basically playing and exploring, while they worked hard each Saturday. The weather was mostly mild and gorgeous, and the woods around us were lush and full of wildlife, much different than our brick home and manicured yard in our little neighborhood. There were huge rocks and boulders to climb, tons of swaying hardwoods and pine trees, bugs buzzing and birds soaring overhead, and trails through the leaf-covered, shady land. A creek ran down the hill from the building site, there was a natural spring down one path, and wildflowers grew abundantly. It was a remote location, with no neighbors within sight, and barely within a mile through the woods. We parked near their home, and had to hike weekly down one of those trails to get to the lot we were going to build on, since a vehicle couldn't even pass on that terrain yet.

The only negative memory from that time was one that scarred me for life when a fire, built to get rid of briars and rubbish my parents had cleared, got out of control from the autumn winds, and swept across many acres in record time. As soon as Mom and Dad realized their beating with pine limbs was futile, Dad sent Mom with us, running to the nearest home as fast as we could to get help. This was way before cell phones, and the panic I remember feeling still makes my heart palpitate. We used the phone at the Owings' house to call for the fire department, who had to bring a brush fire rig and pumper truck, since a regular truck couldn't get to the scene. It was a scary afternoon as they fought to contain the fire that was so devastating so quickly. We were blessed that Dad was not hurt at all, and believe me, were even more careful in the future with burning anything!

We moved in the week before Christmas and I spent the rest of my years at home in that house. My parents moved right after James and I married, to another home they built, down from the house in the woods, to the paved road our dirt road turned off of. They lived there until moving to Decatur a couple of years ago. During those years on Rocky Ridge Road, I knew that we were unusual to be without a lot of neighbors to play with, or a normal concrete driveway leading from a paved road, but it never bothered me. It was such a great, peaceful place, and I long for a home like that still. I'm not a fan of neighborhoods, as great as this one is, where we currently live. The privacy and nature around us in that home were like nothing else I've ever experienced. My brother just sent me an email that sent me further down memory lane too. It will provide a little glimpse of how vast the forest was around us, and how perfectly solitary that home was. There actually is a house near there now that wasn't built until a few years ago. You'll see it in the bottom left of the picture. Thanks, Jacob, for the visual reminder. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for being willing to be adventurous. It was such a gift to us to spend those years there with you!


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