We’ve spent the past couple of weeks in the Oasis of Nevada, celebrating our history and remembering our youth at the Community Reunion and our agriculture heritage at the Cantaloupe Festival. Both events were spectacular this year – well attended, well produced, joyous festivities bringing us together, reminding us of who we are.
These events always remind me of when we learned about ancient times in the villages of old when they gathered at the end of the summer season, people coming from far and wide across the countryside to sing and dance and eat.
As we sang and danced and ate the other night at the reunion, one conversation particularly stuck with me – talking about how beautiful the evening was, how good the turnout, and how much we love Fallon, Jerry Frey said, “We are the bricks, and this is the mortar.”
What a beautiful sentiment. And how true. Each of us in this little community we call home is an integral part of what we have come to call “community,” but really, we are more like family. The events we attend, the ball games, the concerts, and the festivals are the mortar that holds us together. All the places where we get to know each other, help each other, and enjoy our lives together are that cement.
Fallon is a special place. But I suppose everyone says that about their hometown. People write songs and poems dedicated to their birthplaces and always return for weddings, funerals, reunions, and festivals.
For years, I’ve joked about the magnets in the dirt here. But when I’m in Tonopah, Pahrump, or Ely, they say the same thing about their dirt. We always go back.
If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard it said by one of my students or for every time I said, “As soon as I graduate, I’m out of this place,” I could pay for the band next summer. And yet, after the adventure and the exploring, more often than not, we venture home to the arms of the Stillwaters, the hugs of Lahontan, the excitement in the faces of those we left to hold down the fort as we stretched our wings.
Leaving is good. We have to go out and learn about the world, develop skills to sustain ourselves, and appreciate the magic of what we have here. But coming home is better.
So, while we buy every cantaloupe we can for the next two weeks, we’ll be right here…
…Keeping you Posted
Rach
Comment
Comments