Why Staunton, Illinois will always be home
‘Home’ comes in many shapes and sizes
At approximately 39 degrees north latitude and 89 degrees east longitude, lies a place. This place is a city by definition, but if you were to speak to the people that call this place home, they would all tell you the same thing: were not a city, were a family.
They’d tell you it’s a special place, a place that leaves its mark on everyone who comes in touch with it. Sometimes it’s not always for the good and that’s okay because it means it at least taught you something. However, for most people, this place leaves a mark on them that has an everlasting impression and gives them a sense of pride about where they came from.
This place is called Staunton, Illinois. Home to roughly 5,000 people and a high school with an enrollment of 400 on a good year, this place fits almost every stereotype of a “small town.” No, we don’t drive tractors to school (unless its FFA week). Yes, we have running water. No, we don’t have a McDonalds and lastly yes, I was able to survive.
Staunton ties people together in ways you would never think were possible. That same girl you threw dirt at on the playground in Pre-K might just be the same girl holding on to your arm as you walk into your senior prom and before the sheer thought of your existence, your dad was already carving out your legacy with your future math teacher in which you’ll eventually have to answer the question, “Was your dad..?”
As a high school student, this would prove to be very handy. For example, if you were hungry on a Friday night and were low on cash, 99 percent of time you would know the workers at the local Dairy Queen and they always hooked it up for you. Charged you for a small blizzard? Gives you a large. Three piece chicken strip basket? Nah, here’s a 10 piece with extra toast. And lets not forget the struggles of having to find someone who knew a friend that could buy you that bottle of UV Blue that we dumped in a Polar Pop so our parents had no idea we were drunk. No matter how you slice it, this place always has a funny way of working itself out. Sometimes you can’t help but smile and other times you want to scream so loud that the whole town hears you, which is not very hard.
I am often confronted with the question, “What did you do for fun?” I love getting asked this because I could go on for hours, even days, talking about the simplicity of some of our best memories. Sometimes nights were spent sitting around a bonfire and drinking beer from your parent’s fridge and other times the most exciting thing you did on a Friday night (except during football season in which case you were at the game) was cruise around “looking for something to do” but deep down everyone knew that was going to be the extent of the night and no one seemed to care. With all signs of civilization, like Wal-Mart, Taco Bell, or the mall, being nothing short of a 30-minute drive away we often resided in the city limits for our entertainment and that was fine because we knew the local cops and they would never harass a group of kids for something as lame as sitting on a tailgate in a empty parking lot, right?
Staunton comforts the community in the darkest of times and unites them in the brightest. Nothing would make your family more proud than seeing a picture of your face on the front page of the local “The Staunton Star Times” and that was your 15 minutes of fame. News spread like wild fire; sometimes you would find out things you didn’t know about yourself, crazy how that works. You were constantly fighting the battle against yourself of, “Should I tell my parents?” It was always a gamble. You could confess and pray for (at any of our 15 local churches) a lesser punishment or you risked the chance of getting away with it and not having someone run into your mom at the local IGA and spill the beans for you. We thought we were sneaky, but I like to think our parents just picked their battles. This would always come back to bite you, because it just builds up for your next slip up and around here that could be any given moment. Moral of the story: Your parents will always know more than you, unless it comes to technology.
When it’s all said and done, wherever I wind up in life, I know I’ll always have this place to call home. Staunton will always welcome back all those who have passed through and proudly embrace their return. There are no real strangers here, just people you haven’t met yet. Go Bulldogs!