Just outside of Wilmington, along one or another of the scenic byways which meander through what has been referred to as chateau country which lies just outside of the city, stand grand homes which are the principle residence of their country estates. Those homes with their carefully laid stone walls which enclose coiffed lawns, tended orchards, and lush pastures - and what were obviously well-cared for properties - presented me with an enigma when I was growing up and lived in Wilmington. By and large I was happy in my life with whatever it was that I happened to have during those carefree years. I didnt envy others whatever it was that they had earned or even inherited: that was their life experience. My life although circumscribed by considerably less expansive surroundings: no carefully constructed stone walls while the grass in our front yard was simply mowed, our little lawn was still more than my grandparents front yard which was a simple wooden porch which extended into the sidewalk on Monroe just below 9th Street. I would like to imagine that my grandfather, Jacob Statnekoo, enjoyed the life-long happiness of never having owned or having a need for a lawn mower. By and large I was a happy teenager. Even before I had a car of my own to drive (which wasnt until after high school), I had the privilege of having the occasional use of our family car. My greatest enjoyment was to ride around town aimlessly on quarter-a-gallon gasoline in my best buddy, Philip Cherrins, 1952 Chevy sedan. Even now, more than fifty years after those carefree years and what seemed then those never ending joy rides, I have to ask myself what it was that stirred within me when my buddies and I drifted outside the parameters of our usual haunts and glimpsed a world to which we had no access. Although I am still working on an answer to that question, I may have the beginning of an answer. I believe that some people, myself included, have a reactive response to feeling excluded from ANYTHING in life, even if we have no real interest in being included. And so when we live our lives in proximity with others with whom we have no means to meet or develop a rapport, the longing to belong to that from which we feel separated may become a factor in the psychology of our lives. This is a Wilmington memory for me, too.
Posted on: Fri, 09 Jan 2015 09:00:09 +0000
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