Where I Come From…

I like to say I’m from a small town. It’s not small town in the sense of only having one stoplight, but it is small town in the sense of ‘small town feels’. We have one high school, burgoo sales to raise monies, and an annual Christmas parade that incorporates all of Henderson’s finest.

When I grew up, my elementary school went to 6th grade. We had two junior highs back in the day that were 7th-9th grades. Our only high school was 10th-12th. It has changed since then, but I loved how it was back in the day. What I especially loved was the mascot throughout. At my elementary school, I was a rebel (soldier) and my school colors were black and white. My junior high years, I was a cadet donned in maroon and white. Then I made it to be a colonel at my high school, still in maroon and white. I like to think my years in school were spent being a soldier.

Mascots have changed, and I’m not sure why, except for the high school. They are still colonels.

One of the most proudest things about being from my hometown is the Memorial Day display. Every year more than 2000 crosses are put up on display of our local heroes who have died. There’s a big celebration honoring them on Memorial Day. I love to drive over to see this amazing display. I have a couple friends whose fathers have crosses, and my sister-in-law’s grandfather has a cross, as well as many others I know. I’m so proud our town recognizes the heroes we have. This little big town shows its pride every year.

I enjoy as I see many of my friends post on Facebook the same pride I share of why this matters to us. While I no longer live there, I will still consider it home. It’s where I come from.

On this Memorial Day, and every day, never forget. Honor the fallen. Thank the living. Their sacrifices are immeasurable.

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