ENGAGEMENTS

I grew up in the North Carolina jungle. My parents’ farm, incased by over a thousand acres of protected land called the James Goodwin Forest, made our world feel like infinity. NC State botany students studied the trees and plants, and Army soldiers stationed at nearby Fort Bragg maneuvered over the creeks and terrain of Mr. Goodwin’s donated land.  While we respected those who visited, to us, those woods were ours. They served as the venue for education and play for my siblings, cousins, and me.

At the risk of waxing mush and emoting like a bad country song, those were the days of backroads, pick-up trucks, tractors, crops in the field, and mama. They were the days of party lines and encyclopedias. It wasn’t all good ole, but it wasn’t all bad ole either.

We didn’t have central heating and air and you might describe the Sandhills of North Carolina as a geography that is prone to gnats and home to mosquitos. Opening a window could lure in a breeze, but there was an entomological cost for that air flow. There were times in my childhood that things weren’t comfortable, and that was okay. I learned patience with discomfort and perhaps that lessened my natural bend towards human selfishness.

In recent years, the road that I grew up on has become vogue with the rich folk. They have turned what used to be working farms into showplaces with koi ponds and water features, edged by high dollar split rail fencing. They have given the farms kitschy ranch names and although I don’t know these people, they annoy me.

A real estate agent asked to list the old homeplace telling me that it was a sought-after part of the county. She referenced the road that I lived on until I moved into my college freshman dorm room, “the fringe.” I grew up on that other side of nowhere during the 70’s gas crisis when my parents squeezed dollars and measured miles. We quarantined because we couldn’t afford the fuel. I’m wise to the ways of the fringe, thank you very much. I wouldn’t sell that piece of land because while complicated, it’s a tinder box of memories.

The writer Willa Cather said that there are two main themes in literature that relate to the human condition. One is the adventure away and the other is the journey back home. Both of these themes have been important to me. I wouldn’t be able to lift either over the other in terms of soul shaping significance. One revealed that I didn’t know what I was missing until I found it and the other illuminated that I didn’t know what I had until it was gone. Adventure out and journey back have made me the person I am. I spent most of my formative years plotting my fringe escape and most of my adulthood circling back to its embrace.