Living the Small Town Life

I was born in Central Illinois, and have lived in the Midwest all of my life. Growing up, I resided in a town of roughly 30, 000 people. I graduated high school and even met my wife while living there. My first child was even born in that town's Hospital. I thought I had a pretty good grasp of what small town living really was, but I could not have been more wrong. I was in for a real eye opener as my wife and I decided to move to her hometown of Kewanee.

I honestly never felt at home in the town I grew up in. I always felt like an outsider looking in. The town itself has a bad reputation for some pretty awful things, and unfortunately that reputation is well earned. I am ashamed of the town's sordid history, and I vowed I would not raise my children in that kind of environment. So, when the opportunity presented itself for me to move my family, I jumped at the chance with both feet.

My wife and I had looked high and low to find a home in which we could raise our children. It was on a whim we decided to look at houses in the Kewanee area. This was the town my wife had grown up in, and she turned out pretty good so I figured it could not be all bad. After a short search, we found a house we liked, and the next thing I knew, I was a citizen of the Hog Capital of the World.

Now in Illinois, Kewanee is renowned for two things; a furniture store and you guessed it, pigs. I would venture a guess if you were to mention the name Kewanee to a resident of Central Illinois you would inevitably be asked, "Isn't that where Good's is at?" Good's, as most of the citizens of Illinois could tell you, is a large furniture store located or more accurately, makes up the downtown business district of our fair town Kewanee. Illinoisans my age (I am 35) grew up watching the commercials featuring Mary and her remarkable furniture along with her amazing wine cellar as they interrupted our Saturday morning cartoons.

Little did I know at the time of my family moving, the second aspect of Kewanee is its affinity for a certain farm animal. I am not sure when this swine love affair started, but the town is steeped in hog pride. I know this because when the wind blows just right on those humid summer days, the fragrance of nature is unmistakable. Any visitor making their way into Kewanee will be greeted upon entrance to the town by a large welcome sign proclaiming this aromatic little burg "The Hog Capital of the World". I know, as hard as it may be to believe, I did not make that up.

This infatuation with all things pork culminates every Labor Day weekend when the annual Hog Days Festival takes over the town. During the festivities, one can eat some of the best butterfly pork chop sandwiches found anywhere, participate in the Hog Jog race, or simply take in the hog decorations which spring up all over town for as far as the eye can see. Welcome to my world.

Upon moving to Kewanee, a town about half the size of what I was used to, I figured things would not be all that different than what I had grown accustomed to. I quickly learned how wrong I was when I mowed my lawn for the first time. Now, I have an average size yard, and under normal circumstances it should not take more than an hour to complete the job. Small town living, I found out, has a completely different concept of normal as it took me well over that aforementioned hour to cut the grass of my front yard alone. I had to stop every few seconds to return a friendly wave to each welcoming town's person as they drove by my house or sharing pleasantries with everyone who happened to be walking down the sidewalk. I am not sure which made me more tired that day, the mowing or the act of seemingly constant waving.

Those early days, one of my favorite activities was to read the police blotter in the local newspaper. I would laugh hysterically as I regaled my wife with tales of how a pig carcass (I know, pigs again.) was used as a projectile and hurled through the front window of a home. I had to chuckle upon reading a group of teenagers were arrested when in their drunken merriment decided to make an enormous snowman right in the middle of one of the busiest streets. My personal favorite was when the local police were notified because a squirrel in someone's yard was reportedly acting "abnormal", and what is even funnier; there was a follow up story on how the squirrel had been sick.

I even had my own hilarious encounter when one of those pesky squirrels fell into and became trapped in my fireplace. When I notified an in-law, who is also a resident of Kewanee, for help in capturing the squirrel, I was advised to call the police. Naturally I thought this was hysterical because I was sure the police had more important work to do and could not help. Well, who was I to quibble over details and argue with someone who had lived in Kewanee far longer than I?

I called the police, and in a moment of wise-cracking weakness, I asked for the squirrel division. I was stunned when I was actually transferred. I explained my situation to the officer on the other line, and within minutes someone was at my house with a rodent trap, and they helped rid me of my squirrel dilemma. Where else but in a small town can you find a brave trained squirrel division of the local police? Oh, they are called Code Enforcement Officers, but to me they will always be the Squirrel Patrol.

I remember back in those days how I thought I had uprooted my family and moved them right smack into the Twilight Zone. I was mortified thinking I had made some horrible mistake. This was not an ordinary little town, but something out of a Stephen King novel. How else could the peculiar behavior of the town's squirrels be explained?

Then the oddest thing began to happen. I stopped reading the police blotter for amusement, and started seeing it as news. The peculiarities of the people and animals stopped being weird and became the norm. The townspeople kept waving, but not because they were merely friendly, but because I had become one of their own. I started to develop a since of community and dare I say it, "Hog Pride". I began to care about this town, and for the first time since being out on my own, I knew I was home.

You can say what you want about Kewanee or any small town across the Midwest, but for me I would not live anywhere else. Sure the people are a bit quirky, and the squirrels are abnormal, but that is what makes the town special. My children are growing up here, and they have learned values that I am proud of. My kids know the worth of doing an honest day's work. They have learned acceptance and tolerance for cultures different than our own, and been able to experience diversity. I would not trade these life lessens for anything. I am living the small town life, and loving every moment. I would recommend raising a family in this kind of environment to anyone. I would advise however, watch out for the squirrels.