Yes, I did.
I lost it. It’s a painful topic.
Yes, I did.
I lost it. It’s a painful topic.
I was born in and raised in a suburb of Milwaukee and didn’t leave until I went to college when I was 18.
I went to college in the closest University Of Wisconsin school to Milwaukee you could go to with out going to UWM. About 45 minutes from home. Bounced around a bit between a few different apartments while in college.
After college I moved back to Milwaukee. Different suburb from where I grew up. The complete opposite side of town (about 30 minutes from my apartment to my parents house).
A few pit stops along the way, another apartment, a marriage, a house, a kid, a divorce and I’m still living in Milwaukee, about 20 minutes from where I grew up. Living outside of Milwaukee (or maybe one of the neighboring counties) isn’t in my foreseeable future. At least not as long as I have a kid that can’t support herself. But I’m okay with that, I’m pretty happy with where I am.
Nope. I grew up in a town in SF Bay Area that I can’t afford to live in after I moved out of my parents’ home, and neither could any of the people I grew up with, so nobody I knew lives there any more.
Hell, after moving eight times in 3 years, I don’t even feel like I have a home any more… just the place where I’m living right now.
I still work in the town I grew up in. My mother lives in the house I grew up in (1st owners built in 1959). Even though I no longer live here it is my hometown. I don’t know how I’ll feel if my mother is no longer living there. I don’t really want to think about it.
A hometown? Maybe not. The town where I went to school and such was never much, and if anything, now it’s rather less. I don’t miss it.
The town was never my home, though. I grew up well outside, at the end of a little dirt road that went under water every few years, for months at a time. It was so green it tinted the sky on a cloudy day, so dark that on a clear night you could see forever, and so lonesome that you could lose yourself and think long, long thoughts.
That place…yeah, it still has a hold on whatever passes for my soul. When I’m feeling lost or hurt, I find myself wanting to go back there, dig my toes into the soft earth, breathe the heavy air, and let home fill up the cracks and crevices life has put in it.
I consider San Diego my home town. Except for a couple of years when my dad was stationed in Hawaii, I’ve bounced back and forth between San Diego and San Jose. I’ve lived more of my adult life in San Jose, but San Diego will always be home to me.
I’ve lived in 14 different residences in various towns, states, and countries, not counting a couple years on a boat.
Actually I’ve lived in my current home longer than anywhere else, almost 9 years now.
Sure- I grew up in Houston, and lived there until I was 27 (minus college semesters). So I think of Houston as my hometown.
I’ve lived in Dallas for 14 years, but I don’t really think of it as my hometown, just where I live.
Except for the four years I went away to college, I’ve lived my entire life in the same town. For the past 23 years, I’ve lived in a house one block down and one block over from my folks. Mom and I moved in there in 1964 when she married my stepdad. He has lived there since 1955.
I sometimes wonder how different my life might have turned out had I struck out for parts unknown after I graduated from college. But besides family and friends, I had contacts here in the business I went into, so it was easier to come back here to start my career.
Like any area, this one has its plusses and minuses. But I have no regrets.
Agreed, and a good post & user name combination, too.
Military brat. No home town. My nearest analog to “home” is the house my grandparents lived in, a country farmhouse with a creek that flowed nearby where I used to catch salamanders and crayfish as a kid. Had cows and chickens, too. I never stayed there for long, just when my parents visited, but it was a very nice place for a kid to play, so sticks in my memory.
I was born there in 1950, at Mercy Hospital in Hillcrest.
Lived about six miles from the hospital until 1966.
Moved to the suburbs (La Mesa, about 12 miles from Mercy H) until 1970,
when I got married to Mrs. Cretin and moved back to about 4 miles from MH.
In 1974 we bought our first house, exactly one-half mile from my birthplace. Stayed there for 27 years. I wasn’t exactly a rambiln’ kind of guy.
In 2001 we moved to a newer house. Six miles north of MH.
Finally took a real plunge in 2005; we retired, and relocated to “The Berkeley Of Idaho” where we remain to this very moment.
A while back, just for shits and giggles, I GoogleEarthed my current home position relative to Mercy Hospital: 957.7 miles North, 12.0 miles East, 2312 feet higher.
Anyway, like I said- my hometown is San Diego.
Baltimore, MD for me. I was born at Mercy Hospital and spent my first nineteen years living in the house my parents owned for 45 years. After I left home, I lived in Baltimore or its suburbs until I was 46, with one-year stints in Ohio and Florida and a shorter stay in New Jersey squeezed in there.
I don’t go back much, but the Gardenville neighborhood of Baltimore will always be my home town, on Facebook and in my heart. For better or for worse, I was formed there.
Moved to my hometown when my folks split up a week into my first grade year.
It had an added layer of hometown-ness because it was already my mom’s hometown.
The elementary school and most of the businesses that were there have closed. My mom moved a few miles away to a larger town right after I graduated high school. My mom then retired and moved entirely out of the area, but her brother still lives there. So when I say I’m going “home” for Thanksgiving, I mean the larger town where I still have family. But when I do go there I take a nostalgic side trip to show my son the places where my favorite places used to be.
Similarly, my son was born in California, and started school in New York. But, he describes himself as being from Maryland.
I moved to Haifa, Israel when I was 6 and lived there for over 19 years (three of those were in the army, but that doesn’t count as leaving home). I was there for 11.5 years of school and three years of college; I met my wife there, and that’s where we mad our first home together. My parents moved away a few years back, but my two best friends are still there, and I take a train over to visit them every other week - it’s only an hour away. So yeah, I guess I have a hometown. If someone asks me where I’m from, I say Haifa.
Yes. It got shaken up pretty badly by an earthquake a few years ago, so once it’s rebuilt, it’s not necessarily going to feel like my hometown any more, but I lived there for 23 years and my parents and brother still live there.
Memphis. I lived there almost 42 years and only in the past year have I moved down the road to the suburb of Bartlett.
I have a homevillage…
I’ve lived in (or very near):
La Rochelle, France
Only the first and last come anywhere near approximating a home town - I lived in or near Yeovil for most of my first 10 years, and I’ve been in or around Orlando for the last 15. Yeovil is where I’m from, and it’s where I’d list as my home town - but I am much more Orlando than anywhere else today.