Good morning, friends! I hope you’re reading this from under your favorite blanket with your coffee close by (wishful thinking? Maybe just the coffee..?)

I had the distinct pleasure of meeting with a few long-time Middletown residents last week and man am I excited to share what they had to say. I have two interviews to share – one that focuses mainly on what Middletown used to be, the other with someone who has a pretty good idea of where Middletown is going. I thought of combining the interviews – sort of a ‘Middletown isn’t what it used to be but we cannot separate the past from the present’ run-on-sentence rally cry. But, as I began to plan out the combined post, I got completely overwhelmed by all that our city has been and will be so I think I’m going to keep them separate and we can all process through time together at whatever pace feels the most comfortable. Everyone okay with that? Great!

Since I started the Goodness Collective, I’ve gotten tips and leads as to where to go, who to talk to, what to talk about, and much of that information has been about what Middletown used to be like. I must admit, I’ve been captivated by the sweet whispers of Middletown yesterdays – and I want them to be shared. What is warmer than a deep sigh of gratitude for what has been? What is sweeter than memories that stuck, good memories, that we can share with our friends who weren’t in those barefoot summer evenings? I am so grateful to hear these memories and share them with you – but I want to be careful not to get stuck here. Goodness Collective is a place to celebrate all of Middletown – the past, present, future, all of it. So it is with caution and joy that I bring you my conversation with a friend who has lived in Middletown all of his life.

My friend grew up right around the corner from where my husband and I live – directly across the street from Sunset Park. We love our neighborhood, we love Sunset Park, we love the big trees and that there are families of all ages and circumstances around us. Naturally, I loved hearing about the kids riding their bikes up and down our street and playing baseball all summer long. He asked what house we lived in, I told him the one-story house with the driveway on the right side. He told me that he thinks the man who lived in our house – or maybe our next-door neighbor’s – had a pet alligator (the man definitely had an alligator, the question is what house they lived in). He recalled all his neighbors – families, most of which were led by unbroken marriages and mothers at home. In the summer time, he and all the other kids would leave home around 8 or 9 in the morning, stop home for lunch, go back outside, and would come home again for dinner. Each park, he said, had a box – a wooden box that measured roughly 3’x4’x5′, the Sunset box was at the corner of Milton and Bellemonte. Inside the box, there were baseballs, bats, toys, etc. Each park had its own baseball team (Sunset Park, he said, was best).

There was a merry-go-round and swings (still there!), tons of kids, and no fear of being unsafe while they were unsupervised. He remembered walking home from Barnitz Field alone at night – something I haven’t seen many kids (or adults for that matter) doing recently. Parents looked out for everyone else’s children as much as their own. He and his friends would ride the steaming hot bus downtown to Gallagher’s or Ortman’s (5 & dimes, soda fountains – they were real!). The big businesses were generous to the community, the small businesses were the first places you’d shop.

There was really no reason to leave Middletown except to go to a Reds game.

With tears in his eyes, my friend remembered the magic of Middletown. My heart fell into my stomach and I wanted to grab all of Middletown by the hand and run as fast as I could back to that place, those summers, that feeling of safety and security. And then I remembered – I love Middletown today, right now, as is, and I am not alone.

Friends, Middletown is a different place than it was, and that is okay. Do you believe that? I’ll say it again. It is okay that Middletown is different. It is good that Middletown is different. We don’t want a city that is an unchanging robot, do we? Well, I don’t. Here are some things I love about Middletown today: that we can see the entire socioeconomic spectrum in a single neighborhood; that there is a knitting club that meets at Java Johnny’s; that there are people who truly love going to places that the outside world has deemed “too dangerous”; that Marsh always smells a little funny; that guy who does Parkour in Governor’s Square – among other things.

We are in a season of change, of growth, of being honest as an entire community and that is so beautiful, you guys. We are in the midst of something incredible. Let’s not be blinded by what used to be. Jump on board, friends.

Later this week, I’ll be sharing a conversation I had with Mayor Larry Mulligan, in which we discussed what is happening in Middletown today – real life stuff. Until then, let’s be grateful for the Middletown we’ve had, the Middletown we live in right now, and be hopeful together for Middletown’s tomorrows. I love this city.