In the beginning there were my two parents. The Military dad and the only daughter of a Baptist Minister. Yes they were married. The dad was stationed at Westover Air Force Base in Chickopee, MA. When people ask "where were you born" I often reply Springfield, MA because very few people have ever heard of Chickopee. And since Chickopee is a suburb of Springfield it always seemed easier to just say the major city.
Yes, that is where life began for me. And even though Springfield is in one of the most Yankee of states and Chickopee is one of the most Yankee of towns, being born there did not make me a true Yankee. Not by the standards of those that call themselves Yankees. No, I was not a Yankee. My parents were not born in New England. None of my Grandparents were born in New England. In fact I don't think a single ancestor of mine was born in New England.
Not to mention the fact that my parents were not even really residents of New England. They were here only because the Air Force told my dad he had to be here. So by any and all standard that are acceptable to even the most liberal of Yankees, I was indeed not one of them.
Well, true to that fact I did not grow up in New England. Except for a short stint when I was 7 and 8 years old. My dad was stationed at Pease Air Force Base outside of Portsmouth, NH. But how much of Yankee-dom can you absorb when you are only in the first and second grade?
I actually grew up all over the world. OK, I actually grew up in parts of the Mediterranean and the North East United States. But not New England. But alas, I did choose to live in New England. No one forced my hand. I moved freely of mind and spirit. I decided I wanted to make New England my home. My first taste of life came in the form of Boston suburban city called Nashua, NH.
Nashua, as most might know is not exactly a true New England city. It is a large bedroom community for Boston, MA. Yes Boston may be a New England city but not really. It is an international city with a lot of people who are not from New England. It has the Yankee history but it really is no longer living the Yankee life.
Nashua, because of its close proximity to Boston and lower taxes and home prices, makes it an ideal commuting city for those who work in the Boston area. Sure there are some Yankee holdovers in Nashua, but this is a city that has twice been named the best city in American in which to live.
It has all the markings of just about any city in the USA or Canada for that matter. So much of its New England and Yankee charm has been lost. For this reason I decided to leave the "big" city of Nashua. I moved again. This time to a small city that is still full of the Yankee Spirit and charm.
I moved to Keene, NH. Now other than Vermont or Maine, you really can not get too much more Yankee than Keene, NH. Home of the world famous Pumpkin Festival were they set the first of numerous Guinness records for most lit Jack-o-Lanterns.
Yes, this is the area I chose to settle in. This is also the area in which I have come to learn a lot about what it means to be a true Yankee even though I will never ever be considered one.
This is where you will learn about my lessons, trials, tribulations and often head shaking with disbelief reaction to life in this region in which is fondly called New England. Stay tuned because I have got some stories to tell you that will have you rolling on the floor with laughter. A story or two that will make you cry and more than my fair share of stories that will have you scratching your head in disbelief.
But all that is part of the charm of the area in which I now happily call home.
