Whenever I get nostalgic or reflective, I often find myself believing that of all the places I've called home, the one I'd lived in the shortest and felt the least attached to is the one that had the most profound impact on me. Nevermind that I spent the entirety of my "formative years" in the agro-industrial heart of America. Nearly every facet of who and what I am can trace its roots back to the twenty-one months I spent in Kittanning.
Today I found myself wondering why.
Perhaps it was so many firsts that signaled the end of childhood innocence and heralded a coming of age. I'd barely been there a month when I'd had my first experience with profound loss. We were in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner when the telephone brought the news that one of my best friends had finally succumbed to the tumor he'd been battling for years. A week later, I lost a pet that had been with me for as long as I could remember. I'd also had my first taste of independence and self-worth. Every day of the summer was spent completing a list of tasks for the house we were building. Once the list was done, I was free to go where I wanted and do as I pleased, limited only by my stamina and the range of my bicycle. Most days were spent at the card shop downtown, others were spent exploring. I'd get paid for my labors every other week and had to quickly learn to budget and save. Mr. McGarvey was the first teacher to praise instead of chastise me for challenging the system. He was also the first to adequately explain the importance of considering opposing viewpoints and to help me believe that with dedication, I could perhaps change the world instead of letting the world change me - all while ensuring I maintained a sense of humility. And then there were girls. There's way too many firsts there to list here, but the major milestones are there. It was also very much an education in what not to do, but it was a voyage nonetheless. From my first real crush to my first heartbreak to my first date, sitting in a theater, sweaty-palmed and wondering if I should kiss her while kicking myself for not having the foresight to know that an action movie probably wasn't the best choice for a first date to a forced kiss at play rehearsal to my first real kiss in a booth at Miller's Hoagies to the realization that you can have girls that are friends and nothing more (and most of them were cool as hell). Perhaps it was sports. I was a full-fledged, biscuit-eating member of the Dawg Pound with a team that was no more when the Steelers Nation welcomed me in with open arms. Perhaps it was my own discovery that the nerdy kid could be one of the cool kids, and that the two were not mutually exclusive. Perhaps it was the way I learned to fight and talk my way out of a fight at opposite ends of the same hallway.
I don't know. I can't say what it is. At least not specifically beyond the sum of the parts. But what I can say is that more of my character is derived from a span of less than two years spent nestled in the Allegheny Valley than the other 29 years combined. For that, K-Town will always hold a special place in my heart, even if I can't pin it to a specific event.
Today I found myself wondering why.
Perhaps it was so many firsts that signaled the end of childhood innocence and heralded a coming of age. I'd barely been there a month when I'd had my first experience with profound loss. We were in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner when the telephone brought the news that one of my best friends had finally succumbed to the tumor he'd been battling for years. A week later, I lost a pet that had been with me for as long as I could remember. I'd also had my first taste of independence and self-worth. Every day of the summer was spent completing a list of tasks for the house we were building. Once the list was done, I was free to go where I wanted and do as I pleased, limited only by my stamina and the range of my bicycle. Most days were spent at the card shop downtown, others were spent exploring. I'd get paid for my labors every other week and had to quickly learn to budget and save. Mr. McGarvey was the first teacher to praise instead of chastise me for challenging the system. He was also the first to adequately explain the importance of considering opposing viewpoints and to help me believe that with dedication, I could perhaps change the world instead of letting the world change me - all while ensuring I maintained a sense of humility. And then there were girls. There's way too many firsts there to list here, but the major milestones are there. It was also very much an education in what not to do, but it was a voyage nonetheless. From my first real crush to my first heartbreak to my first date, sitting in a theater, sweaty-palmed and wondering if I should kiss her while kicking myself for not having the foresight to know that an action movie probably wasn't the best choice for a first date to a forced kiss at play rehearsal to my first real kiss in a booth at Miller's Hoagies to the realization that you can have girls that are friends and nothing more (and most of them were cool as hell). Perhaps it was sports. I was a full-fledged, biscuit-eating member of the Dawg Pound with a team that was no more when the Steelers Nation welcomed me in with open arms. Perhaps it was my own discovery that the nerdy kid could be one of the cool kids, and that the two were not mutually exclusive. Perhaps it was the way I learned to fight and talk my way out of a fight at opposite ends of the same hallway.
I don't know. I can't say what it is. At least not specifically beyond the sum of the parts. But what I can say is that more of my character is derived from a span of less than two years spent nestled in the Allegheny Valley than the other 29 years combined. For that, K-Town will always hold a special place in my heart, even if I can't pin it to a specific event.
The roses are going to be a bouquet. I'm making one with those colors and another with different colors. I need a lot of roses and don't want to run out when it comes time to make them.
And the moves just happened to coincide with moving onto the next step in life/education. My parents bought a house, got divorced, etc.