Here in Franklin where it’s difficult to get a buzzard to land (which is why the addition of Ballpark Commons is nothing short of a miracle), I support modernization, economic growth, keeping up with the times.
And yet I’m quite nostalgic.
So I was fascinated by a piece by Jonathan Look who can’t recognize his boyhood town.
I concur. The same is totally true of my old neighborhood. Leave a door or window open there today and you’re begging to be victimized.
After many years away (I’m now a retired global vagabond in my 50s), the place where I grew up is barely recognizable.
It is difficult not to be nostalgic — and I try to say this without judgment — but, to me, things have not improved there.
Yes, newcomers need places to live, eat and be entertained. People have to be accommodated, infrastructure must be maintained and facilities have to be modernized. But, the place I once called home exists only on maps and in my memory.
My hometown, for me, is gone.
That’s not how everyone looks at it. What I see as destruction, I know many people who remained there regard as an improvement.
Read the entire piece here.