Tom Kirvan
Legal News, Editor-in-Chief
Thomas Wolfe, the late American novelist, is credited with coining the phrase “you can’t go home again,” which served as the title of one of his books that was published posthumously in the early 1940s.
I probably should have heeded his message after recently paying a brief visit to my city of residence for more than 30 years, a place where I spent a chunk of my career learning how to navigate the nuances of newspapering.
After a 10-year absence, I was struck by how much – and how little – had changed in the city, which has served as a bedroom community to Ann Arbor for the past half-century. While the downtown had undergone a streetscape facelift, the mix of retail shops was still lacking pizzazz, the kind necessary to keep local shoppers from making the 10-minute trek to cosmopolitan Ann Arbor.
Be that as it may, the visit reminded me of my father, who last month would have turned 100 had he not succumbed to the ravaging effects of Alzheimer’s disease 12 years ago.
Decades earlier, he paid a similar visit to his hometown, a tiny spot on the mid-Michigan map that was sandwiched between the college communities of Mount Pleasant and Big Rapids.
Mecosta is its name and at that time served as home to some 300 residents, including noted conservative author Russell Kirk.
Kirk’s home, nestled next to the river, was called “Piety Hill” and was a monumental structure that reportedly now is home to “The Russell Kirk Center for Cultural Renewal,” apparently a place where conservative thinkers can pay homage to the late author.
My father, who for years worked behind-the-scenes on campaigns for such Republican stalwarts as George Romney and William Milliken, viewed Kirk as more curiosity than conservative king. He wrote as much in several columns that added spice to his 50-year career in publishing.
One column, published in 1997, recounted his trip back in time to his former homestead.
“Happy memories drifted through my mind as the miles disappeared behind and the road ahead became flanked with once-familiar landmarks,” he wrote. “The fish hatchery extending on both sides of the highway was alive with visitors circling the various ponds to spot the largest trout and the ever-present two or three sturgeons that shared the spotlight.
“The relatively new State College was next, where, as high school students, we were welcomed to the Friday night dances, unless a basketball game was scheduled. Even then, athletics held sway over romance.
“The final 20 miles of highway was almost totally familiar and I could easily put names on the various farms and lake cottages, though most of the original owners had long since moved on.
“And then came the first view of the ‘downtown,’ a three-block business section that once housed an IGA store that my aunt operated. The grocery store, not surprisingly, was long gone, as was the nearby shoe and clothing store that outfitted virtually everyone in town.
“The bell tower on the church was still intact, but the once sacred setting was now home to an antiques market of questionable quality. Across the street, in the ‘house by the side of the road’ where I was born, there was no longer a home. It had been replaced by a new, all-brick township library.
“In the next block, a few more places of business had closed. There were no ‘for sale’ or “for rent’ signs in the windows. The properties were victims of the four-corner fuel and food establishments on the edge of town.
“The community swimming pool, built alongside the river that crossed the village, had long since been filled in and covered with a concrete slab that now supported a few picnic tables – unused, it appeared.
“The only place that remained the same was the cemetery. The various family plots were identified and neatly tended – parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, cousins, uncles, aunts, and friends were all there. Their souls had moved on, like many of the living that used to populate the area.
“The two-day visit suddenly became one. Anticipation had turned to something altogether different. Thomas Wolfe was only partly right. You CAN go home again, you just don’t want to stay.”
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