You can’t go home again…
In my memoirs, Flyin’ Chunks and Other Things to Duck, I wrote about those excursions when my folks moved our family from California to Michigan and back again. The trip in 1951 was California to Michigan where I started my high school experience in the tenth grade at Waterford Township High School.
I neglected to mention in Flyin’ Chunks that I took an art class at WTH and by 1953, as a senior, I was ask to design the cover of the school year book, The Waterlog, as well as do a few sketches for the books interior. I appreciate that Jerry Gaultney, now of Bethesda, Maryland, was the Editor-in-Chief of the 1953 year book and posted a comment on my blog reminding me of my year book designing experience.
Unfortunately, my parents decided to move back to California that year. I reluctantly had to leave WTH in the middle of my senior year and found myself back in California at Burbank High School. Although I designed the 1953 year book cover for WTH and was elected senior class treasurer; my picture doesn’t appear in the yearbook. But I am mentioned as having to relinquish my position as senior class treasurer.
During the 1980’s the Township built two new high schools in the area, apparently the WTH buildings were no longer sufficiently useful. The last class to graduate from Waterford Township High was the class of 1983. Waterford Township sold the property in 1999 and the school was demolished to make room for a shopping center.
My last home in Michigan was the little house my dad built on Highland Road, state highway M59. At some point in the past our tiny house was torn down, as were all of the houses along that road and today bustling business’s line highway M59 and have erased my rural past.
Thomas Wolfe wrote it, “You can’t go home again.” and John Steinbeck made it true.
The following from “Travels With Charley” by John Steinbeck
“The place of my origin had changed, and having gone away I had not changed with it. In my memory it stood as it once did and its outward appearance confused and angered me. …Tom Wolfe was right. You can’t go home again because home has ceased to exist except in the mothballs of memory.”