Open House!

This past Sunday was my birthday.  My best friend, Steph, told me she was going to come up here to spend the day with me.  If that wasn't exciting enough, she said she would be bringing my nephews with her.  I was ecstatic!  When I woke up in the morning, the first thing I did was call Steph to see when she would be leaving.  She assured me that she would be leaving around noon.  So when 1 oclock rolled around, I was kind of worried when she wasn't here yet.  I called her, and she said she hadn't left yet.  Where was she? At my house!  For the past hour, she was sitting there, talking with my parents, and eating a burger.  I laughed.  I am an hour away, and yet my best friend is currently at my house eating lunch.  The only thing is, this isn't so uncommon.

There have been multiple times where I would come home from work at 11 at night.  I would pull up beside my house to see Steph's car in my place.  She is inside, making pizza with my sister, or watching the History Channel with my dad (his favorite channel).  It soon became customary.  And vice versa.  I have been at her house plenty of times without her there.  She would walk in as I am on the ground playing with her dog.  Or I would tell her that I am on the way to her sister's house to visit her nieces and nephew-meet me there.

Steph and I are not the only ones who are like this.  The whole town, and even the ones surrounding it, are the same way.  In fact, my cousin, Danielle, told me a story that she and her mother went to the store.  When they got back, they heard someone in the living room.  Curious (especially since the dogs weren't barking) they creeped in.  In the living room they found Danielle's friend, Johanna, eating a sandwich.  My aunt asked her how she got in, since she KNEW she locked the door.  Johanna's reply was "Don't be silly, I know the back door is always open.  The lock to the gate is Keith's birthday, so I just came around the back.  As if Jake and Chevy (the dogs) would hold me back.  Want a sandwich?"

Similarly, the children in my town are always walking around and inviting themselves into people's homes.  When I was younger, we used to always go to my neighbor's house to play.  While his children were all grown up and moved away, he still kept a rope swing and toys for us to play with.  In the fall he would rake his leaves into a huge pile by a wall so that we could jump down into them.  In the winter he would bring us into his kitchen for hot chocolate and cookies.  This tradition continues.  I see children at Ron's house all the time.  Often times, I will come home to find Gregory, a kid who is about 10 years old, at my house.  He plays with my brother all the time.  What is funny, however, is that whenever my brother doesn't want to hang out, I will come home to find my brother upstairs, and Gregory STILL in my house, just playing downstairs on the wii or xbox. Yet other times, a child by the name of Nicholas comes around.  He is much younger than any of us (he MIGHT be 4 years old?) yet we all come outside to play catch with him.  It works out much better when my nephews are around.  Nevertheless, the picture here shows my family carving pumpkins, with Nicholas there as well.

In the end, whether you are best friends, playmates, or just a child from the town, Lilly has an open-door policy.  You are always welcome in everyone's home.  :)

Gotta Get a Little Mud on the Tires

It's a nice day out.  Sun is out, it's pretty warm.  What do you and your friends decide to do?  Go play a game of volleyball?  Go to the mall?  Maybe go swimming?  All of these are good answers.  But around my town, there is another answer, one that I would choose over all the others.  What is that you may ask?  Go riding of course!

Picture by: Michele Simonet

Around Lilly there are a lot of trails and coal dumps.  These are prime conditions for quad riding.  All throughout spring, summer, and fall you will see people driving up and down the roads (which I may say is illegal, but in a town with 0 cops, who is going to stop you?) to go ride on the trails.  I LOVE riding.  Now, I don't have a quad of my own, but that doesn't stop the fun.  If my cousins come over, they bring an extra quad for me.  Friends also come along, and it's a grand old time.  The one picture I put up on here is in the parking lot behind my uncles house.  It is of me, a couple of cousins, and some of our friends getting ready to go on a quad run.  One of the most fun memories of my life, I will never forget how muddy and dirty we got! (The other picture I put up is not NEARLY the muddiest we have ever gotten!)

I have had many memories while riding.  My first time I drove the quad by myself, I misjudged a turn.  I was going too fast to make the turn, and ran into a stump.  Besides falling off of the quad, I also uprooted the stump.  Every time we go past that stump my friends and I all laugh.  Once, it rained the entire time we were riding.  We came back sopping wet and miserable.  From that time on, we have checked the weather before heading far away from the house.  Another time we were riding for a long time.  Eventually we got lost, which was not uncommon (many times we purposely got lost just to find new trails back home) but we also realized we were almost out of gas.  Not the most pleasant circumstances, but in any event, it was a learning experience. 



Picture by: Michele Simonet



The moral of this story is that sometimes, it is fun to get down and dirty.  Going out into the woods and riding trails can be just as enjoyable as playing volleyball or shopping at the mall.  Though I can be a clean freak, I love riding through huge mud puddles and going around turns, thus spraying my friends with mud.  It's a sense of freedom that I can't quite explain to someone who hasn't been out there.  But for people in Lilly, and I am sure in other small towns, it's a feeling that we all know quite well.  Sometimes, you just gotta get a little mud on the tires.

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine

Coming to Penn State, I've had to learn many new things.  First and foremost, was to rely on only myself more.  Not that other people are untrustworthy or anything.  But I have had to adapt to being around strangers all the time.  Back home, everyone relies on each other.  Most people go out of their way to help another person.  Up here at State, we just don't have that sense of community.  It's definitely a different atmosphere between the two.

For one thing, I never had to worry about locking things when I was at home.  If you really wanted to, you could go for a ride to Lilly and be able to get into my car right now.  I'm pretty sure the keys are not in it, but usually in the day time, they are.  My house only gets locked if we are away for an extended time.  I dont think we have ever locked our motor home, which sits behind my uncle's house (remember I mentioned before, he lives in the house right behind mine).  It's just not needed.  Many times, my friends have called me, saying "Hey I'm away for the weekend, will you feed my dog?" and I just walk into the house.  I can ask my neighbor if I can borrow something with the reply of "Sure, the garage is open."  Here at Penn State, however, I have to remember to lock my door every time I leave the room; this is a task that took me a while to master.  It goes even to the gyms, where you have to find a locker to put your stuff into.  Maybe that is how the world is nowadays, but it's just not what I am used to.

Photo by: The Community of Lilly, Pa

In Lilly we all help each other.  When my uncle was patching up my grandparent's garage roof, there were 5 guys from the community up there with him.  When my car broke down, a couple people from the community stopped by to try to help my dad fix it.  Whenever Christmas time comes around, may of the people come together to decorate.  Other events are all ran by volunteers.  For the church picnics and bingos, my aunt always enlists my help.  It even goes deeper.  When my neighbor and her husband broke up, there were many long hours on the porch just listening to her.  Another time, one of the scariest in my life, was when my neighbor Wayne hit his head and collapsed in the kitchen.  His wife sent her granddaughter to my house for my mother's help, but she was not home.  I ran over to see them on the floor.  I called 911 and helped Elaine control the situation.  When she drove to the hospital, she did not have to worry about the children because she knew I would keep them over at my house. 

The point I am making is, in a small town, you never have to worry about being alone.  No one will steal your things or hurt your family.  Rather, we all stick together.   We all know that if one needs help, all of the rest will be there.  After all, it's called a community for a reason.  And I wouldn't trade mine for the world.

Everybody Dies Famous in a Small Town

My grandmother called me over the weekend.  After the same old "how are you" and "how is classes going"  we started to talk about people in our community.  At the grocery store she saw Diamond, a girl I graduated with, with her daughter, who is now 6 months old.  Her neighbor's son got married last weekend.  Our priest got surgery on his neck last week.  And multiple people asked her how I was up here, if I went to the Joe Paterno memorial, etc.  When I hung up with her I talked to my parents.  From them I found out that two of my friends broke up after dating for many years.  Amy and Bailey, a woman from the community and her dog, stopped by like old times and caught up.  Later on that night I looked back on all of this.  I had to ask myself, do people from other communities have these conversations?

I don't know the answer to that question.  But what I do know, is people from small towns DO have these conversations.  As I mentioned in my previous post, everybody knows everything about everyone. This isn't like a typical high school gossip session though.  The thing is, in small towns (or at least, in MY small town) people do not just talk, but also people remember.  People remember that during high school, I was in all of the musicals.  People remember that my neighbor, Ron, is the guy who decorates his yard for every holiday.  People remember all of the things about each other.  Pat Podrasky may not be a name that registers to anyone around here, but in Lilly, he is the kindest guy around, the one who was a plummer and electrician; he was the guy that helped work on most buildings around.  He was the guy who humbly ascended to the present mayor of the town.  Steve is the man who has played Santa since 1996.  Jack Barlick is the veteran who puts together everything for the Legion and War Memorial. 

The list goes on.  But the point is, everyone has an identity.  It is always fun to go the town carnival or town picnic. Everyone reminisces past stories.  Going to these small events is like being a star on the red carpet.  You see someone you know and get tons of pictures with them.  Then to the next person.  I walk up to one person, who excitedly asks if I have seen so-and-so.  Which I reply yes, but did you see this person.  There are people within the crowd who stand above others, those some who have done great things within the community that warrant our respect.  There are also some people who we may not respect necessarily, but who we appreciate as one of our own nonetheless.  For example, Zeke, a man who has been around since my father was young, is the official town drunk.  You can always tell if someone is from Lilly because he or she knows this man.  Regardless of his inebriation, though, he is one of the nicest and most generous men.  He would gladly give you the shirt off his back, and I do mean that literally.

In any event, what I am trying to say is that when you live in a small town, you aren't just a face among the crowd.  You are an icon among many others.  Each individual stands out, and they all remember each other.  Living in Lilly, I have learned that you don't have to be a movie star or a political leader to gain fame.  All you have to do is live in a small town.  Because everybody dies famous in a small town.