Personal Narrative

Where I come from it's taking pride in your yard, knowing every single one of your neighbors, and leaving doors unlocked because there isn’t a thing to worry about. I find comfort in that small town feel, and I am more than proud to be from good ol’ Warrenton, Indiana. Here, we are just a wee bit shy of being big enough to be on a map, but we have a name and we have town lines. Within those lines nearly two hundred people have found a home, and thanks to Mr.Dave Gruible our community is steadily flourishing. There are now three subdivisions on the rise in addition to the church, salon, family restaurant, and campgrounds that nestled into the area years ago.

My home town is Butler,Missouri. Nothing to be that proud of. I left it as soon as I finished high school,

When it comes to small towns people who haven’t lived in one tend to think that they are boring or bland. However a chat with some of the people who have always lived in a town of less than four-hundred people for their entire lives really paints a new picture. Donnie Moyer has lived outside of Terril, Iowa his entire life on a farm working for his father until his passing in which he took control of the property. When we discussed “How has the town change since you’ve lived here?” he responded with “It hasn’t change at all it's still the same place I grew up in.” Some see this as being bland but in today's age with all the technological change it is refreshing to see some are happy with their roots. Going on from that I asked him about his

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.

I live in a neighborhood where the neighbors are friendly. My neighborhood itself gets very hectic at times, but that’s just where I live not where I’m from. I am from Kansas City, Missouri, the most craziest city there is. As Ms.Bowman may say Missouri is the “Show Me State.” I used the love being there and I still do love going home and visiting seeing all the familiar faces.

The sand is cold, the sky overcast, and the waves crash against the shore echoing harshly through my ears. I see clouds rolling overhead, I can smell the salt of the ocean, feel the texture of the sand, taste the electricity on the air and it all points to the coming storm. Is it real? Can anything be real when seen through someone else's eyes, felt through someone else's skin, tasted through someone else's tongue, Breathed through someone else's nose, heard through someone else's ears? This is what the world looked like to her, felt like to her, but what did it look like to me, feel to me? Was there ever a me or only this continually changing sculpture, patterns of a person and nothing more. I shivered as the cold air caressed the flesh I wore.

I didn’t make any mistakes. I was the perfect gentleman every girl likes to talk about, but would run for the hills if they had to put up with a blank piece of paper. Well, the evening was over now and I was pulling up to her front door. To my surprise, her parents were waiting for the two of us with bright smiles.

At this point it was halfway through the year of 2006, summer break had just begun. The third grade was a difficult school year, this year I was introduced to the End of Grade state exams. Nonetheless, I passed the third grade along with Ruby passing kindergarten. This year so far was already a fantastic year, and it was only about to become better. My family had discussed plans about this summer, it was going to be the best summer ever. This summer was packed with trips to public swimming pools, visiting our relatives, fishing at my grandparents, and our annual trip to the beach. On this warm, breezy evening in early June, eight-year-old me in this brand-new blue dress with two bright yellow bows with my sister, were in my parent’s bedroom

Living in a small town has it’s perks. Anybody can walk out there front door without being afraid something is going to happen to them.

There also is not many crimes here that happen at least major ones and id like to live in a place like that. I've also met some amazing people here many who are my friends now though i have lost a ton since i have a ton not for being disrespectful but, because they moved.

My home town is none other than small town Greenwood located in South Carolina. Greenwood is a very small town population 69,520. A town so small that everyone seemed to know everyone, this was my least favorite thing about living there. But the peace and quiet and green scenery outweighed it. Don’t get me wrong the fact that everyone

That’s exactly why I thought we should not have been down there. As I was thinking this, two bike riders appeared in the distance. We could see them riding toward us, which freaked me out a bit but I didn’t say anything. They just rode by us, exchanging greetings. Then right after we passed them, we saw another man in a neon green hoodie walk across the road. He just sat on the side, doing nothing. I froze, almost immediately, grabbing my friends arm as if to alert him. I could feel him tighten up too, we were both quite frightened. He just walked on, though, which in hindsight was probably not the right thing to do. I felt that it would reduce some of the awkwardness, especially if the guy did nothing. As we walked past him, my friend said “what’s up” not really looking for an answer. His response was “do y’all do pot?” My friend said “no” and put his hand on my back. As the guy started to get up, I pulled his arm and just ran. The guy didn’t run after us, he just stood there. We didn’t care though. As we were running, we came across a bridge about 20 feet up from another road; we were about to cross Paint Creek again. There was a slope going down to the road from the bridge and so I pulled him that way and we ran down it. As we got to the bottom, I tripped and my friend fell over me. Disoriented, I tried to see if he had chased us. Of course he didn’t, I thought to myself. Briefly, I had felt like it was

The time of industrialization brought the population from rural to suburban and urban areas. Many people have moved closer to cities for jobs. Others leave because there isn’t much left in rural areas besides farming. Since then, people have continued to move out of the country sides and into urban areas leaving smaller towns with fewer people. The idea of small town America is becoming more obscure as people continue to leave.

They then ran outside got in the car and I saw how the girl looked at me in empathy and hesitated to leave me stranded. They insisted and she obeyed. As I saw them roll away I only sighted.

I saw some familiar faces here and there, but was still afraid to talk to some of them. And it was even worse with the unfamiliar faces. We also met some of the teachers, they seem to be very