When I was a kid there was an apartment door that fascinated me. I would run my fingers along it and and know that I would live there someday. Being Downtown felt like I was peaking at a larger story. I was drawn to the brick buildings, sturdy and beautiful and although those were the biggest buildings I had seen they were never intimidating, they were welcoming and just dying to share their stories.
Growing up I was lucky to find jobs Downtown. I got to spend a good chunk of time in a place that felt right. I came to understand and respect Small Business. It was a privilege to work with people who took pride in what was theirs and being apart of their stories, adding to a grand history.
Immersing myself in the center of town I made a ton of friends. There is a slower pace and people take the time to say hello, ask your name and remember it later. Most of these people I still see on a regular basis and those I don’t, if we bump into each other, we reminisce at the stories we made together.
I explored my own passions Downtown. I wrote my first short story in the 7th grade and I was hooked. I found places to sharpen my storytelling skills, some quiet, some loud and always with coffee. I drew inspiration from watching everything around me. The stories were plentiful and I was lucky to find a spot right in the middle.
I eventually ended up in the apartment on Elm in my mid-twenties, almost twenty years ago. I was nestled between a coffee shop and a florist. It was the perfect spot for me and my cat, Lucy #1, to add to our story.