samedi, septembre 08, 2018

Our little town

Less than half-way through Community Day, the skies opened (actually, they re-opened).

I knew it was still happening, though, because I heard the Glenmoore Fire Company sirens. The Fire Company, staffed by locals, is an integral part of pretty much every event we have - and their open house is a community occasion.

Stuck at home answering emails about a story, I didn't actually leave the house until Community Day was almost two-thirds over.

Having parked my car behind the Firehouse, I took off down our Main Street (otherwise known as Route 282).  Even in the pouring rain, the Victorian houses adorned with gingerbread trim and other decorative flourishes looked lovely. Some seemed to have gotten a more recent coat of paint than did others. Bikes crammed some porches, others were a visual feast of hanging flowers and plants.
Before I had gotten too far, a friend stopped and offered me a ride. Grateful but determined to appreciate a street I often view without truly seeing,  I pushed on.

Prosperity has certainly touched Glenmoore with its golden cloak.  Try hard enough, and you can find homes  starting at $750,000. People with acreage could sell it to developers and become multimillionaires. Generally, they don't seem to want to do so.

But there aren't too many of that homes on Main Street. Cars aside, it is still possible to imagine it was it was 100 years ago.

And when I got to Wagenseller Park, residents were chatting with each other and enjoying the band, and the chicken barbeque sold by the Fire Company as a fundraiser pretty much the way they might have in 1918.

Only we didn't have women running for the PA House and Senate in 1918, did we? The 19th Amendment to the Constitution wasn't even ratified until 1920.

We love our little town in part because time seems to pause if not stop.  But not enough to turn back the clocks that far - do we?












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