You can go home.....but its not the same.

Rich and I went back home this past weekend for our 40th class reunion.  Renewing old friendships with common pasts.  Our class has been having reunions every 5 years.  Not too many new faces.  I have concluded that, if you didn't have a great experience in high school, you won't come back to the reunions.  I have heard it said lots of times, "if they didn't talk to me when I was in high school, why would I want to see them now".  I was always somewhere in the middle...not in the popular club....but I socialized there.  I was most comfortable, somewhere in the middle.  Those of us that do come, always have a great time.  Aging is a funny thing, it creeps up on us, stealing our identity.  We are all finally on the same playing field, sharing our reality.
    On Sunday, Rich and I went back to Bourbon.  Its been over 30 yrs. since we walked the streets of our hometown.  The town that I loved has changed so much, it was barely recognizable.  I remember how vibrant it used to be.  Small towns were so vital to everybody back then.  It was where you shopped for everything.  Bourbon had a wonderful grocery store called Dillingham's and above it a clothing store.  We also had a dime store and a furniture store, a hardware, jewelry, Cumberland pharmacy and Sharpe shoe store.  We had a news stand that always bustled with the most colorful of our townies.  At the heart of Bourbon was our bank, First State Bank, where I worked for 6 years.  I started working there right out of high school.  I started at minimum wage which was $1.35 an hour.  First State was a family owned one of a kind bank.  We were self contained and posted every check right there at the bank.  The things I learned and did, I can't believe I did for $1.35 an hour.  After a year, I was promoted to  bank teller, where again, the wage was the same.  I was responsible for so much money and I was only 20 years old.  After 6 years, I finally broke $3.00 an hour, but by then, I was pregnant with Regan and that ended my working career.  I loved every minute of it and the comradery of the women I worked with and the Mason's, will always be a cherished memory.  As we visited places in Bourbon, I went back to my bank.  It was as if time had stood still.  I looked in the window and everything was exactly the way it had always been.  The little town of Bourbon had changed, but the bank stood the test of time.  We went back to where our A&W Root Beer stand once stood.  For me, the ground is hallowed and holds the best times of my life.  I went to work there the summer I turned 16.  You had to be 16 before Harold would hire you.  I started out in the kitchen frying french fries, but soon became a car hop.  My first year there, the bypass had not been built yet, so all traffic on 30 came through Bourbon.  It was standing room only.  Lots of times every space would be parked 3-4 deep.  Again, I was only 16 yrs. old with a huge responsibility, working for 50 cents an hour plus tips.  An average tip back then was 25 cents, but then a spanish hot dog cost 25 cents and a mug of root beer was 10 cents, so in comparison, a 25 cent tip was good.  Once in awhile I would get a $1.00 tip, which was some guy wanting to get lucky with me.  Rich worked there too, he was inside manning the drinks and expediting the food.  My best friend India worked there too, so life was good...very good.
   Rich and I ate at the Bourbon Street Pizza place, which is in the old Dillingham building.  It was filled with old pictures of Bourbon.  I'm sure this must be popular with the kids, but it isn't even close to our Jim & Jeans.  That was truly Happy Days, with juke box and cherry cokes.  After every game, it was standing room only and the place to be.  After we ate our pizza, we drove around town visiting the places we used to live.  There was our very first little apartment on Thompson Street.  It was brand new when we moved in, then we moved to the red house on Center St. right next to the laundromat.  We lived in the upstairs apartment.  We only lived in apartments for our first year of marriage.  We then bought our first house at 304 Harris St. for $15,000.  It was the beginning for us...it fed our ability to build our first home in Plymouth and fulfil our dreams.

   So, yes you can go home and no it was not exactly the way I remembered it.  People change and our way of life has changed.  Not all change is for the better, but it made us the people we are today.