COLUMN: Tales from the Gravel Ridge – Voices remembered

The gravel ridge of my childhood has a very old history, and change has permeated its existence since time immemorial. To those who lived on the Rosengard gravel ridge during my childhood and youth, it seemed like a very solid landmark that simply belonged where it was located. And furthermore, I do not recall anyone in my hearing at the time questioning how the ridge came into existence. Nevertheless, the advantages of living on the gravel ridge were many. The fact that the Rosengard School was located on this ancient landmark, that being the gravel shoreline of long-ago Lake Agassiz, was advantageous in numerous ways, including the fact that our playground was never muddy. Spring run-off was not a concern, and neither was the aftermath of a heavy downpour.

The gravel ridge without a doubt had been traversed by many people, even reaching back well before recorded history. Those who were our neighbours when I was growing up in that vicinity, and in some instances, their ancestors as well, all found it an ideal location for setting up their homes and farms. In addition to being perfectly suited for establishing their homes and helping to nurture and develop their family units, the gravel ridge was a reliable roadway as well.

The individuals and family units who have made the gravel ridge and its surrounding lands their home, or possibly the means of providing a livelihood in one way or another are, of course, countless. Many whose names appear on no written birth certificates, or, for that matter, school attendance records, have nevertheless found the ridge amenable to being a willing participant in the activities and adventures of those who were drawn to its inviting environment.

Our own stories are, in some instances known only to us, inasmuch as we personally have experienced our individual lives. Nevertheless, we have also shared our lives with others, be it within our individual families, our friends and neighbours, or fellow students and teachers at the Rosengard School. We have shared, either through lived encounters or through conversations with others, many of life’s experiences, be they ordinary, if there is such a category, or possibly those that were profoundly life altering.

All of such life events, be they seemingly inconsequential, or possibly overwhelmingly shaking us to the very core of our being, are in a sense absorbed by that environment that so many of us called home. Indeed, the stories continue to be experienced by those for whom it is still a profoundly entrenched place.

The poet, Walter de la Mare, speaks of a Traveller, in the poem The Listeners. The Traveller knocks on the moonlit door of a house, asking ‘Is there anybody there?’ The Traveller receiving no response calls out once more, and finally knocks even more loudly and says ‘Tell them I came, and no one answered, That I kept my word,’ he said.

Regardless of the reader’s interpretation of the meaning of the poem, I find the thought compelling that the Traveller felt he needed to convey that in fact, he had kept his word regardless of whether anyone heard or responded. Perhaps there is something for all of us in that thought. The community of Rosengard has given me a great deal in ways that have shaped my life abundantly. Indeed, it continues to do so.

The Rosengard gravel ridge was my home base for the first two decades of my life, and for much of that time I actually lived there, along with my family. In a sense, possibly somewhat like the Traveller in Walter de la Mare’s poem, I need to avail myself of the opportunity, metaphorically, of expressing something of the gratitude I feel for all that I received within the context of my humble home on the Rosengard gravel ridge.

First and foremost in my reasons for gratitude is the fact that I was born into a phenomenally strong family – parents and older siblings who modelled love and stability even during times of poverty and great stress. For me and my younger brothers they were examples of strength and resiliency and the capacity for joy, even in difficult times.

In time, the Rosengard School and the surrounding community further shaped my life in terms of educational pursuits and socialization.

For these, and so many other reasons the voices of yesterday continue to reverberate in me, filling me with profound gratitude.