History Days

September 14, 2019

Smallville, USA—that’s where I choose to live. Today was History Day in Sinclairville, a celebration of small town life, beginning with a devotional and prayer by area pastors, the Pledge to the Flag, and a parade, which this year in addition to the fire trucks, cheerleaders, and Cub Scouts, had a few Muscle and classic hot rods along with two ‘70’s era V8 trikes. My old Ural even won a trophy in the car show, motorcycle division. We probably could have taken another for gramps’ ‘48 8N, but it remained in Nate’s barn. Vendors, bounce houses for the kids, live bands, a chicken barbecue to benefit the library, raffles, a beautiful baby and a pie contest; kids can wander around all day without their parents having to worry about their safety. What’s not to love about living here? 

Three years ago, a couple who lives just down the road were driving through on the Saturday of the fair. They were so enchanted by what they saw that they sold their home near Buffalo and bought a house in the village. It all ended with a pretty good fireworks display within walking distance of our home. We sat on the grass on the hill overlooking the village park, talking with friends and enjoying the company of grandkids spread out on either side. 

With such a full and varied day, I suppose I should have taken a few photos, but I didn’t. Except for one. The barbecue consisted of half a chicken plus sides. We couldn’t eat all ours, so after putting all the bones and garbage in one of the takeout boxes to throw out, I put an entire half chicken in the other box to take home for later. Guess what was in my box when I got home! 

Of all the places I could have spent my life, I wouldn’t have imagined living here. The first time we drove through it nearly forty years ago, I wasn’t impressed. It isn’t quaint like some villages. Tourists don’t seek it out. But the people are great! It’s obviously not perfect, but it’s about as close as I expect to see in this life. You can color me thankful.