This evening, my wife and I drove up to Centralia for a little look-see. It was the first time I’d been back to the place since I left it in 1997.
When I first moved back to the U.S. from South Africa, my dad got a job preaching for a small church in Centralia. I enrolled in the local high school, even though I’d graduated from high school in RSA, mostly to get my credits transferred to a system that U.S. colleges would accept.
Anyway, some things were sort of familiar. The vast majority were not.