Randolph

I miss Randolph. The town I grew up in has a strange look now. I am a stranger. Nothing looks the same.

I took the long way home from work tonight even though I live the next town over.

My first stop was naturally the house I grew up in. It was a raised ranch, white with black shutters in a neighborhood I envy now. Every house had a child my age. And after school in the summer we would all gather in the yard and play baseball. The tree was first base, the fence post was third and if you hit the Katler's front lawn it was an automatic home run. And when you turned 13 you were too old to play.

The house is still white. Two of the windows have the same black shutters, but the basement is now cranberry. Maybe the new owners tried the color out but couldn't figure out if they liked it and so they never got around to changing it back or updating the others. The front door is different and the driveway has expanded for more cars. I heard the also took down a wall inside. It's no longer my house. Driving by it's as if I never lived there.

I drove by the Tower Hill School where I went for first grade. The front door is boarded up and I wonder when the last time a class was held inside those doors. The playground where we played for recess is still in tact, though a bit rusty.

No more movie theater, but a few more Dunkin Donuts'.

Crime is up and education is down. The high school is said to be on the verge of losing its accreditation. How sad is that?

I thought about a 'what if'. What if I was forced to move out of my house for whatever reason. I would never be able to live in Randolph because it's not the Randolph I know. And that is sad.

But I'm still rooting for it to come through.