The Move

October 19, 1987 was the most traumatic day in my life up to that point. For 4 weeks after the event I was sick on my stomach, I was depressed, I had bouts of crying. No one could console me. No words brought comfort. Life as I knew it had ended and I felt I was doomed to a life of melancholic existence. What happened?

I moved away from West Virginia.

I vividly remember when I was told about the upcoming M-Day (moving day.) It was a hot July afternoon, I was at my friend Regina’s house (down from the old Finks Cafeteria for those of you familiar with the area,) and Mom called and said that Dad was taking a job in Virginia. I just knew she was joking, for my parents would never uproot me in my junior year of high school. After all, the world did revolve around my 16 year-old life. But alas, she was serious, and to be honest, I remember nothing else after putting the phone down.

I knew the move was a possibility as I’d heard my parents discussing it. I forewarned Dad that if he moved me from Princeton, I would start dating a guy named Spike who rode a Harley and I’d get a tattoo on my nether region. When the move was confirmed, I made a note to self: Look for Harley-riding guys named Spike (with a clause that I’d not told Dad about—he had to have finished school and was also a career man with great morals, ethics and values and loved his parents.)

The move came and went. I traded phone calls and letters with all my friends back home. I anticipated visits with eagerness, but I finally settled in to my new life, my new house, my new high school. I made friends easily and even found myself liking where I was. One thing was for sure, however…..West Virginia would always be my home.

Why West Virginia?

So what is it about the state of West Virginia? Is it the beautiful majestic mountains? No, Tennessee has mountains. North Carolina has mountains. Is it the fact it has 4 seasons in all their grandeur? No, where I live now has them, as do many other areas. Is it the pretty license plates, the unique accents, the tasty mountain cuisine where almost everything is flavored with bacon grease and the pinto bean is a food group? No on all accounts. What is it then? It’s the people.

The state of West Virginia is like one big homestead. Those who make fun of us West Virginians by saying we’re all kin are partially right. While we are not inbreeds (oh how ignorant some can be) we are all a family. All one has to do to experience the familial commonality is visit another state, run into someone from West Virginia while waiting in line at the Burger Chef, and mention that you, too, hail from the beloved state. Inevitably you’ll discover that your great-great Aunt Hazel used to babysit their cousin, who still proudly wears the title of Miss Rhododendron 1951. You’ll also be graced with the information that gout sometimes causes Miss Rhododendron “take to the bed” and she’s not been able to make her famous fried apple pies in quite some time because of it. It’s almost a guarantee that you’ll leave the burger joint with an address and phone number scribbled on a napkin stained with ketchup.

My love for West Virginia is what caused me to dress all my wedding attendants in WVU jerseys. And pay an ungodly amount for a WVU cake topper with the flowers the bride is holding painted Old Gold and Blue. And have “Take Me Home Country Roads” played as our recessional song. Just look at—and think about—these lyrics:

*Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge mountains, Shenandoah river
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze
Country roads, take me home
To the place, I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
All my memories, gather ’round her
Miners lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye
Country roads, take me home
To the place, I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
I hear her voice, in the mornin’ hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And drivin’ down the road I get a feeling
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday
Country roads, take me home
To the place, I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

Is there a true West Virginian out there who can listen to this song without getting teary eyed? Without singing it at the top of one’s lungs? Impossible, I say!

I have wondered if my sentimentality is only because I no longer live there. Robbie, my husband who is also a “transplant”, has the same love for our state. We’re both in agreement that there are no people like West Virginia people.

How do you feel?

I’d love to hear from those who have never left West Virginia—do you feel this way? And those who were born there yet have moved away, do you miss it? Have you found this same loyalty to which I refer? Oh yes, and is there anyone….anyone who can sing along with Mr. Denver and not drop a tear?

I do feel I should have been home yesterday….yesterday….