A Dream of Home: A Glimpse at a Boyhood Life in Homestead

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A Dream of Home: A Glimpse at a Boyhood Life in Homestead

I left my boyhood home many years ago to escape the smog and poverty that was so prevalent there. I always knew that the time would come that I would have to return. It wasn’t that I dislike the city where I was raised; I still wore my black and gold every Sunday. Perhaps, I was content where I was and enjoyed the distant ties with town. Still the time would come when I would return.

It was early summer in Washington State. The pink and white apple blooms had carpeted the earth, and the warm air had settled into the Cascades. This was the time of year when my work was most difficult. The whole family had their part to play.

I had met my wife, Davina, shortly after coming to Washington State in 1950. I was hanging out at a blues club a few blocks from Evergreen State University, in Olympia. She was a barmaid there, and I have always had a weakness for a beautiful girl who brought me drinks. Davina, however, was stunning. She was twenty and had just transferred from Whitman College in Walla Walla that semester.

We dated for about eight months before we were married. The pressure came from our unborn child, Nathan, who was born April 20, 1951. The three of us moved onto an eighty-acre parcel on the Nisqually River. In those days I worked for the Forest Service, until 1954 and the arrival of Dominick, our second son. Davina wrote short stories when she could, and I began to add onto our log home. It was then that I began my current profession as an outdoor guide.

Early summer, forty-five years later, it was time to make repairs to the cabin inflicted from winter weather in the structure. The boys still help out. They each have five acres a mile from us on eithe...

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...nsuming the riverfront from Whitaker to the Homestead high level. From the Bridge, you can see the tall slides at the water park. The once prosperous 8th Avenue was full of small shops and boarded-up buildings.

8th. Avenue, Homestead, Pa

Many things, other than the churches on the upper end of the tracks, were fairly run down. With the steel industry gone, the potential to make money in the area had drastically declined. I even took a ride through Braddock, where the Thomas Edgar Works was still functioning, and Braddock was in worse shape than Homestead. I must say that I am anxious to arrive back in Washington, so that I can forget what has become of my once fruitful boyhood town.

Works Cited

Stewart, Russell K., Interview with Author. 23 March 2001. Freeport, Pa.

Stewart, Bernadette Zapf, Interview with Author. 23 March 2001. Freeport, Pa.

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