My hometown is known for being somewhat historical, ethnically diverse, and quite tiny. It’s regarded as the middle of nowhere far away from the city lights and glamour. The endless beauty and sheer elegance has long gone unappreciated, and it cries out for notice. My home is like a sad garden that needs to be maintained. Selmer is a little piece of earth located in west Tennessee among a plethora of other tiny towns.
Selmer is a town with a population of less than four thousand people, and has been my home for fourteen years.
The first thing anyone would notice upon arrival are the copious amount of trees. The second would be the small, country road that leads you into Selmer. There is an old, white water tower in the center of town with “Home of the Eagles” painted on it in faded blue letters. The high school football team is the only thing that brings attention to Selmer; other than that, it’s pretty much a ghost town. Every Saturday night during football season, the streets are lined with cars and people from all over come to watch the game. It’s the only time when Selmer feels alive.
The town is home to many different types of people, but the two groups that stick out the most are the farmers and the rednecks. The farmers are the nicest people you’ll ever meet; they’re hardworking, honest, and down-to-earth. They’re the type of people who are always willing to help others, no matter what the circumstance may be. The rednecks, on the other hand, are not so pleasant. They’re often uneducated, rude, and quick to fight. They spend their days drinking beer and hanging out at the local convenience store.
Even though Selmer is far from perfect, it’s still the place I call home. It’s the only place I’ve ever known, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else. There’s something special about this town, even though it may not be apparent to outsiders. To me, Selmer will always be the place where I grew up and made some of the best memories of my life.
Selmer created an industrial park in the blighted region to help develop it. There were six factories in this industrial park. The six facilities proved to be short-lived. Industrial Drive is now littered with empty beer bottles and debris left by people, as well as sickly skinny creatures straying about the streets. Streetlights have dimmed and are fluttering, if they work at all. Graffiti covers every structure, and rotten boards have been nailed to the windows and doors of the buildings.
I’m not sure what the factories were before they became abandoned, but I can only imagine that they were once lively and contributed to the town.
What was once a bustling area is now a ghost town. There are no stores, no restaurants, and no jobs. The only thing left are the memories of what it used to be. Even though it is now an eyesore, I can’t help but love my hometown. It’s where I grew up, and it will always have a special place in my heart.
The well-kept parking lots that once existed have now become overgrown and covered in weeds. The landscaping has gone wild, resembling a snake infested jungle. Downtown is made up of a collection of rundown little buildings, a run-down shopping mall, and a shut down movie theater.
It’s hard to believe that this is my hometown. I grew up in this town and it was once a thriving community. The schools were good, the parks were well kept, and there was a strong sense of pride in the town. But over the years, things have changed. The factories have closed down, the jobs have gone away, and people have left. The town has fallen into a state of disrepair and it’s hard to see any hope for the future.
But despite all of this, I still love my hometown. It’s the place where I grew up, the place where my memories are. And even though it’s not what it used to be, it still holds a special place in my heart.
The musty odor of these run-down structures comes from a store selling hand-painted signs and an overpriced clothing shop. The exterior walls of these buildings, which have warped with time and are cracked, feature amateurishly painted commercial advertisements. A narrow, uneven, bumpy sidewalk is lined along the front of the businesses. A ragged old automobile lot on the side of the railway line that runs through town is still attempting to stay open despite its miserable condition. Although they are small in number, they are excellent schools.
The sports teams are amazing and always seem to make it to the playoffs. There is a lot of school spirit in this town. The people who live here are proud of their town, even though it isn’t much to look at.
The streets are lined with old, tall trees that provide shade in the summertime. The leaves turn a beautiful golden color in the fall, and the snow drifts high in the winter. It’s a beautiful place to live, despite its flaws. There is a sense of community here that you don’t find in many places anymore. People wave as they drive by, and stop to chat when they meet on the street. It’s a friendly place where everyone knows each other.
Despite its small size, my hometown is a great place to live. It may not be the most beautiful or exciting place in the world, but it has a charm all its own. I’m proud to call it my home.
There’s no place like home. That’s what they say, and it’s true. There’s something special about the place where you grew up. The sights, the sounds, the smells – they’re all part of what makes your hometown special.
Of course, there are also downsides to small-town life. Things can get pretty boring sometimes, and there’s not always a lot to do. But overall, I love my hometown and wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s the place that shaped me into the person I am today, and for that, I will always be grateful.