I havent lived in High Point for decades. My memories are of a town and a time that no longer exist. A time when ranging the city on bikes was the norm, and not the exception. When a day without playing outdoors for eight or more hours was probably the result of being sick -- or punished. When milk, butter and eggs were delivered to the front door by a truck with squeaky brakes. When Mom packed her purse with S&H Green Stamps, saving for that new toaster. When going to Beesons Hardware was an experience that pulled at all ones senses: eyes, ears, nose -- and fingers. When processing the early credit cards was not swiping them, but inserting them into a cylindrical capsule that got sucked up through a vacuumed pipe to the business office located on the 2nd floor. When sidewalks were for metal roller skates, and hopscotch. When the school desk that I etched a no-no word in, and later turned it into a spaceship, followed me for my remaining years at Tomlinson. When you used Ba-bo cleanser to clean your school patrol belt. When Scouting was not a stigma. When AM stations played popular music. When popular music was understandable. When Leonards was a drug store, and not a pharmacy. When gas was 25 cents a gallon, and the Saturday morning movie could be bought for a dollar or less. When music was etched into 33 1/3 and 45 rpm vinyl records. When TV dinners were a novelty. When we replied, Yes, Maam, and Yes, Sir. And said please, and thank you. When High Point College was a quaint and lovely campus, that invited strolls. When cameras used film, and the simplest was the Kodak Brownie box, with a turn knob to advance each picture. Now I hardly return to High Point, and when I do I have difficulty navigating from point A to point B anymore. I see a downtown dominated by buildings that have morphed from quaint to huge windowless show spaces. Memorable places are gone, and the scent of the past is difficult to smell anymore. It isnt just High Point. Its pretty much wherever you go these days. Windy Hill is no longer the beach I used to go to, for example. What I fear is, as the terrain erodes from the past and is replaced by pavement, and parking lots, and more malls in which to shop, so goes some of the traditional values (NON-PC ALERT!) and simplicity of that era which used to exist just over the hillside of time. High Point will always be my history and my past. I just wonder what will be my future, and that of my children, grandchildren, and more? I know there are those glad to be beyond what once was, and I have to ax to grind there. I guess Im just musing on a chilly, crisp Sunday afternoon, way over here in Hickory, as I look over High Point way.
Posted on: Sun, 05 Oct 2014 19:06:45 +0000
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