Comments on: The Truly Unincorporated King County

By: Hayley H

Hayley H — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 23:44:48 +0000

Erin,
I loved this piece. It actually brought tears to my eyes, how crazy is that. I love how you put words to the feelings that I am sure all of us that lived in UKC have. Thanks for this wonderful essay!

By: Jessie

Jessie — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 20:47:28 +0000

Erin,

I really connected with your story. Although my neighborhood is still quite friendly and gets together, it isn’t what it used to be. Many of the children have grown up and more and more people stay to themselves. I often feel sad when I go back home and drive through my neighborhood as I think of how magical my neighborhood used to be to me and what it has now lost. I loved your story! It is very well written and I love the symbolism.

By: Carina

Carina — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 17:44:32 +0000

I feel a sense of loss as I see the fields and hills of my childhood disappearing.

By: Kylie Jones

Kylie Jones — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 09:05:43 +0000

Way to go sis! I love reading this because, obviously, these are my memories too. We are so lucky to have those experiences. It makes me sad that the bros can’t make the chalk roads in the cul de sac and make a city with their scooters. Their childhood is a lot different from ours.
Thank you for capturing our childhood in this piece. It is a treasure to me. Love you!

By: hennchix

hennchix — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 02:17:57 +0000

I love your piece!! I have always thought I was melodramatic in the way I felt about my “formative” years. As an Air Force brat, I spent most of 3-8th grades on a naval station in Iceland. We were there when the island was reopened to missionary work. So many of my memories revolve around being there. I remember climbing the cliffs down at the harbor, exploring the town, watching the daily catch come in off the boats, saluting the fighter planes and feeling so safe and protected on that base. Trick or Treating in the officer’s section of the residential area in winter clothes, woolen socks and rubber boots, and bringing home the proverbial haul. Having the missionaries over weekly for dinner,sharing FHE,laughing with the other branch members, visiting the Icelandic branch, all taught me to appreciate the differences in cultures,delight in sameness, and soak up the light and love of the gospel across a language barrier. Thank you.

By: Susan M

Susan M — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 23:59:35 +0000

You could’ve been describing my childhood, too, but I grew up in Kent.

Went to KR, graduated in 88. It used to be the sticks; now it’s just part of Seattle.

By: Breanna

Breanna — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 23:58:56 +0000

What a beautiful piece.
You go girl!

By: Kevin

Kevin — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 21:53:42 +0000

Thank you for a beautifully written memory. I suspect we idolize our childhoods and think the grass was greener then. Perhaps it sounds trite, but small gestures, like taking cookies to your neighbors even nowadays, really does wonders to bring them out. I am so glad to have married an extrovert; she still strives for the kind of community you lived in, one that she lived in, too, by letting our kids play at the nearby school-yard unsupervised, by letting them walk down the street. She does this in part because she has walked down the street and introduced herself to the neighbors previously, so she doesn’t fear them or their places. I could learn a lot from her; I think we all could reach out to make our communities more like they used to be, couldn’t we?

By: jamesrivergirl

jamesrivergirl — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 20:21:29 +0000

Beautiful and sobering. Thanks.

By: Jennifer B.

Jennifer B. — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 19:23:23 +0000

What a beautiful and poignant post. Thank you so much.