September 2, 1993 – Fremont, Ohio

It was the last day I would ever live in Ohio.  I had been there for 18 years of my life, and now sat at a crossroads.  My dad would be taking me to Florida the next day for college, so I sat on Hayes Ave at a party with some of my closest friends.  They each wrote a letter to me in a notebook (it was pink), sharing with me the hole my exit would leave in their lives.  I still have the notebook and read it every once in a while.

Jon Weber, my math teacher was there, along with Eric, Melinda, Tony, Marci, and Kelly.  Stephanie made an appearance too, though I hated that she showed up. She was the first female to ever hurt my heart.  I had never felt that before and would have preferred it to never happen again.  She wrote a nice enough note in the book, but still.  Then Angie surprised us all with her attendance too.  Angie worked with my best friend Clay and I at Pondegross-a (formerly known as Ponderosa).  She sported an amazing smile and also happened to be the local public schools homecoming queen.  Though we were not very close with her, Clay decided to do me a favor and invite her to my “going away” party.

I was thankful, and it also made me feel better about Stephanie being there.

Angie and I exchanged new addresses and she promised to write me soon, which she did. (pre email, or even cell phone)  I wrote her back.  She returned the letter with another which I swore held a hint of Chanel #5.  I never returned the letter.  I was never very good at letters.

And of course, Clay, Mark, and Carrie were there too.  We were minus another of our best friends, Jeremiah, who had already shipped off to the Marines.  But these were the closest people I had in the world, and you could see it in their eyes that they hated that I was leaving.  They wrote amazing, wonderfully sappy notes and though happiness maintained its place in my emotions, I understood my leaving would indeed leave a hole in the lives of the people in whom I had made an impact.  But I was doing the leaving, and as I learned that fall, doing the leaving is almost always the easiest when it’s on good terms.

This week I found out that two of my really close friends are moving away from this area to another place, which will allow for more opportunity and a different path.  I find myself getting emotional just thinking about it.  I am happy for them and for the lives they will lead, and yet there is an instant hole that I know will be left inside of me.   I wonder if I’m getting old because I almost want to cry thinking about it.  So what I’ll do is remember the time I drove away from Fremont, Ohio, seeking a different, even better story for myself, and praise God for new technology.

The journey from face to face chats to Facebook begins.

Marty Holman, Scott Michael, and Wesley Keegan

Baptism is a symbol.  A symbol where I as a child, a teenager, or an adult make a decision to publicly identify with Jesus Christ.  I was baptized as an older elementary student with two other guys and three other girls.  But it was my decision.  I love it that whenever we have a baptism at the FC, we have kids, teens, and adults that stand up and say, “I’m committed to this Christ thing.  Thank you Jesus for saving me!”  It reminds me of the day 25 years ago that I jumped in the water and told my church in Fremont, Ohio that…

Jesus is my Savior!

Growing up in Rural Ohio was not much different than the place I’m at now.  I was smaller then than I am now (hence the “growing up” line), and so the world was a lot bigger, making me think that Fremont, Ohio was a metropolis in one of the top 10 populated states in America.  Certainly it was much bigger than Clyde or Green Springs!

It’s amazing how your perspective changes as you go through different stages of life.  The world is getting smaller, and I’m coming to realize more and more how important people are.  Not just people who look like me and act like me and are in my life circumstance, but everyone.

The best thing to me about this metamorphing of my perspective over the years is the way I read Scripture.  I know longer just read it (in the teaching sense) for what it says to my personal circumstance in Fremont, or in Pensacola, or only in Worcester, Massachusetts.  I’m coming to  understand that it is for the whole world.  For the Pygmy in Australia and the Tribal Leader in Africa to the police officer on the west coast and the Meter Maid in Saltillo, Mexico.

And I think that means something more than they all should have the haircut I have in this Fremont-born photo, don’t you?

I wanted to share with you about this crazy phenomonon that’s taking place for me on Facebook.

About 6 months ago I started this new group called “I went to TCA of Fremont, Ohio.” TCA is a small Christian church/School (actual title=Temple Christian Acadamy) in Northwest Ohio where my dad used to pastor from 1975(the year I was born) to 1993 (the year I graduated).  Facebook didn’t recognize it as a school and I really wanted to connect with people from my past.  Being an avid fan of history, I recognize that “those who don’t learn from history are indeed condemned to repeat it.”

So after about 5 months, this Facebook group grew very slowly.  There were about 10 people in the group, basically hanging out and saying things like “Go TCA” and “The rules sucked” – not exactly the kind of connecting I envisioned.  I had basically written off the group as a failed experiment in relational connectivity.

Then for some reason about a month ago, I connected with some old classmates from elementary school, and I noticed that one of them were friends with another person from TCA, to which I befriended and invited them all to my failed experiment.

Malcolm Gladwell, in his book, “Tipping Point” tells that an idea takes off when three kinds of people get involved, and it appeared this idea had finally brought these three kinds of people:

Connectors
Mavens – (databank, information processors)
Salesman

So anyways, our group has cruised over the last month, reuniting old friends, looking at old pictures, and sharing old memories, in a way that has been so refreshing and positive for me looking back to the world I used to live in.  My dad even made his way to the group, after an hour of teaching him how..  Crazy!

I’ve been wondering the value of Facebook, and now I know.

This guy graduated from high school in Fremont, Ohio via Temple Christian Academy.
It’s been a long journey since then, travelling through Pensacola, Florida; Tucson, Arizona; Atlanta, Georgia; and ultimately Worcester, Massachusetts for the last 10 years, but not a day goes by when I don’t remember where I came from.

Where did you graduate from and how long ago?