In the thumb of Michigan there sits a very small town with about 1,000 residents. This town is the typical thing you would picture, it’s just like the movies where you drive down the main street and you see someone you know, they’ll wave and yell hi. The name of this town is Brown City and it is the place that I call home. If you were to drive down M-53 at some point you might see a sign pointing you towards Brown City. Once you turned onto M-90 you’ll start going by some of our residents homes. As you drive down this road you’ll see fields of crops on both of your sides and will probably encounter a large tractor or combine. You’ll see Mrs. Rayba, the music teachers, house where she has large drums filled with flowers sitting near her front porch. Go down this bumpy road more and you’ll see the sign that welcomes you to our tiny town, “Welcome to Brown City, Home of the Motorhome”. Across from …show more content…
and back to Main Street you’ll come across the town’s funeral home with an apartment above it. Moving forward down the street you’re starting to see the downtown business district. You see the restaurant La Fonda and smell the authentic Mexican cooking from the inside, across the street is the Tri-County Bank headquarters with a large mural painted on the side with banks embalm that I and some of my friends worked very hard on painting. Next to there is the old drugstore that is no longer there, now it is a building that is housing all kinds of junk with boxes piled in the front window collecting dust. Still on the same side is Libelers insurance and Marion’s studio, the town’s only photography studio. Across the street there is Images salon where you go to get your hair done for every school occasion and wedding you go to. Next door to Images is the town’s only gym that is always filled with local guys lifting weights and girls running on the treadmills and their mothers in the back of the gym taking a Zumba
The setting takes place in April at a funeral. There was a “gardenia on the smooth brown wood” (Holczer 1). They have been “wandering across the great state of California” (2). The setting moves to Grace's grandma’s house. It was “two stories with attic windows”, “sky-blue paint with white trim”, “ and a wood porch” (19). There were “two chairs covered in yellowed plastic and pine needles” (19). There was a gently sloped driveway. Inside the house there were “piles of Tupperware and glass dishes” (19). Outside there was a shed, garden, trees, and
In September 1954, he moved out of Northwood in Long Island onto the Northern State Parkway to see his new house in the countryside. He specifically said that Long Island had been one of the most beautiful places in the United States, and his house was one small reason it would not remain that way much longer. His new house lacked in exterior grandeur, but it made up for comfort inside and costs in all together $25,000. Kunstler got his first glimpse of what real American towns were like when he was sent away to a boys’ camp in Lebanon, New Hampshire. He visited his hometown Northwood when he became a teenager and saw how it has entered into a coma with so little for one to do there. Northwood had no public gathering places, so teens were stuck in their little holes who smoked pot and imitated rock and roll. For the teenagers there, the waiting transforming moment was when one became a licensed driver, as I can say the same about my town. Kunstler went to a state college in a small town, Brockport in western New York State. The college was the only thing that kept the town alive with healthy conditions where it was scaled to people, not cars. He ends the chapter by pointing out that this book is an attempt to discover how and why landscape of scary places, the geography of nowhere, has simply ceased to be a credible human habitat happened and what we might do about
Lewiston, Idaho, once an important port for miners traveling in search of gold, is now a town of about 30,000 people. Few of the people who live in the Lewis-Clark Valley speak of its over one hundred year history. However, there are still parts of the community where one can explore and see the age of the town. Downtown Lewiston is one of a few areas where people can go exploring. They wander the streets, admiring the buildings that stand proudly above them. One building in particular ties a unique history into the downtown area. Morgan’s Alley stands at the corner of Main Street and D Street, overlooking the cars and people passing by. On the outside, it looks like an ordinary, older building. On the inside, it holds secrets of the past and possibly a ghost.
As a child you do many things that are horrible but you do them because you either do not care or do not know the consequences to their actions. Percy was a teen who lived in Bend, Oregon and he was happy to live there. He started to see people from California, Seattle, and Portland come to his town which he felt they were invading his territory. Percy and his friends would do many bad things to the rich people because they hated them and wanted them out. Bend was a place where there was a lot of empty land usually grass field. “ When I go back to Bend now, I don't recognize it. I get lost driving around. There are roads where there were none before. There are roundabouts where there were once intersections. Acres of sagebrush have given way to big box stores”. Percy left Oregon for a long time, but when he came back he saw something he had never expected to occur. As he drove around Percy got lost because this was a new...
Imagine living in a town that was once thriving with successful businesses to a community that barely exist. As you travel down the deserted roads of your community you are surrounded by boarded up memorable buildings, deteriorating homes, and empty storefronts. The water tower that stands tall for all to see is now covered by rust. While the streets in which you are traveling on show signs of frequent patchwork in an effort to salvage the road. As you pass by what once was your favorite mom and pop’s restaurant you began to reminisce on the time you spent there with loved ones. This has become the story of residents in Boley, Oklahoma; one of the first all black towns in the state.
As a native Austinite, I carry a native’s passion for Austin’s soul. My father’s career was with PageSoutherlandPage (PSP) and my mother worked with Austin Custom Records and Austex Printing. Our family prized and modeled a pioneering and creative mindset, built on a foundation of tolerance and inclusiveness—in other words, the Austin soul. As an example, we were one of the first families to build in Westlake in 1965 and my mother named our street, since our home established its existence. Cutting-edge architect A.D. Stenger built on the lot next to us, and I religiously donated my 25¢/week allowance to the Westlake High School building fund, believing this meant I would soon own a building. Years later, I learned how to drive on Mopac—since there was so little traffic on it—and flew in and...
Marysville is a very small town with very few stores or things to do. His house which he calls “The Dump” is a tiny beat-up house on a block of other similar houses. Doug lives here during the year 1968 while the Vietnam War and Apollo Launch Missions were occurring. When Doug’s family first moves to Marysville in the summertime, but the story continues on throughout the year until the next summer.
Jenny and her family were living in California, where she was a costume designer at a theater. Her husband, Ron, worked as a machinist. Their family was happy until their neighborhood saw a spike in crime. A family friend informed the Doan’s of the small town of Hamilton, Missouri and this is where they relocated. With their move Jenny found work at social services and Ron found work as a machinist at The Kansas City Star (Bradley). The
In the short story, “Neighbors” written by Raymond Carver, a number of symbols were projected through various objects; from the separation of houses to the cat locked away in the bathroom, this is all for the purpose of conveying meaning to an overall theme. The story first introduces us to Bill and Arlene Miller, a so-seemed normal suburban couple with neighbors Harriet and Jim Stone who live just across the hall from where they do. As the story progresses on, the Stones give Bill and Arlene two simple tasks: feed Kitty and water the plants; but little by little, the significance of the two tasks become negligible in the eyes of the Millers and the life of Harriet and Jim Stone becomes vital to the wholly-preoccupied Bill Miller. The more
It was three O’clock and school gets out at three O’two. I was so excited, when the bell rang I was as fast a cheetah getting out of there. Hearing the horns of traffic and the smell of a downtown, smokey Chicago. The only bad part is me having to walk/run home in some of the scariest, darkest, and some of the most dangerous streets in Chicago. Most streets have a gang associated with them. The ninth street has Cinco’s on them, one of the smelliest streets in Chicago. The twelfth street has the Lamonsta gang, some of the strangest people. I live on fifteenth street but I always see lights flashing on sixteenth and I have heard stories that if people go down it they don’t come back.
... colorful, bold morals on the walls, it never seems to stop me from capturing the moment and taking a mental picture of the my surroundings to store in for all time. Old town adds a diverse community and new flavors all the time such as seeing lamborghini parked on street, that excited me everytime or watching a group of drivers showcasing their refurbished volkswagens up and down the street. Watching street performers do what they do best. Meeting new friends or running into old ones. Making new memories with your family and friends. Trying new things for better or worse. It can be as simple as just taking a stroll up and down the street. This is what gathers people and thats what always has me going back.
-Pulling into the parking lot I gave the place a once or twice over, checked out the surroundings. It appeared to be a motel with a diner around the side, I’d park toward the outskirts of the parameter so that I could keep the vehicle concealed. Stepping out I’d take another quick look around, there wasn’t anything that seemed out of the ordinary so I retrieved my lighter and lit the cigarette that was hanging loosely from my lips. The embers would glow a cherry neon red in the darkness, exhaling the smoke I pulled the hood of my jacket up over my head and began to move. Every movement was graceful, but every step had purpose behind it. Entering the main office I’d find an old man waiting behind the desk, he was completely uncaring of my presence, caught up in his encore western channel film festival I would speak out, my voice hard edged yet smooth all at the same time. [color=400000]” Give me a room old man…...
When Willy and Linda purchased their home in Brooklyn, it seemed far removed from the city. Willy was young and strong and he believed he had a future full of success. He and his sons cut the tree limbs that threatened his home and put up a hammock that he would enjoy with his children. The green fields filled his home with wonderful aromas. Over the years, while Willy was struggling to pay for his home, the city grew and eventually surrounded the house.
Upon arrival into the jungle of vast buildings, the first thing noticed is the mobbed streets filled with taxi cabs and cars going to and fro in numerous directions, with the scent of exhaust surfing through the air. As you progress deeper into the inner city and exit your vehicle, the aroma of the many restaurants passes through your nostrils and gives you a craving for a ?NY Hot Dog? sold by the street venders on the corner calling out your name. As you continue your journey you are passed by the ongoing flow of pedestrians talking on their cell phones and drinking a Starbucks while enjoying the city. The constant commotion of conversing voices rage up and down the streets as someone calls for a fast taxi. A mixed sound of various music styles all band together to form one wild tune.
like an oddly dressed cousin at a family gathering. Its old-fashioned coffeeshops and conserved pre-war apartments provide an interesting backdrop to the area’s eccentric fashion boutiques and eateries, adding to the offbeat and idiosyncratic vibe of the neighbourhood.