by Irene Daniel
The tapestry of my life begins and ends in Florence, Arizona. I was born here and I will die here, hopefully in this very house. Unlike many of my childhood friends, I had to leave it to appeciate it -- to really love it. I am so happy to be home -- my home, the one I've always loved and always missed. Always.
Every living room window I've looked out of over the years, reminded me of the one at which I sit today, my first window to the world. Every holiday, every national or global disaster, as well as every triumph of the human spirit celebrated on television -- our collective window to the world -- brought me back to memories of home; memories of our family gathered around our TV, the family hearth of the 20th century. I know it's the same for my brother, David, the only other surviving member of our family of origin. We have long acknowledged that the hearts and souls of beloved family and friends still live and breath in this patch of earth called home.
As happy as I am to be back, I know that I had to leave when I did. I was once a little girl with big dreams that could not come true in my hometown, for myriad reasons.There were many lessons I needed to learn that could not be learned here. Not all of them were the nice kind to learn. That fact notwithstanding, there were also many wonderful lessons to learn and opportunities to explore in LA. Some of them were magical, some technical and some still shine so brightly as to leave me bedazzled even now.
There are many people, places and things Angelino that I will sorely miss. I will miss being able to have lunch with some of my favorite people, like Robert Garcia. He was my Criminal Law and Evidence Professor at UCLA, and is currently the Executive Director of The City Project, where he has been battling the injustices of environmental exploitation for many years. He has also been heralded as one of the most influential attorneys in the nation, and I am privileged to say, remains a friend and mentor to me. I miss knowing we live in the same city. He is one of the smartest people I have ever known.
But I never could have had the opportunity to meet this brilliant man had it not been for Esther George, my 1st grade teacher, who taught me how to read. And how about Wanda Malmo, my 4th grade teacher, who further instilled that love of reading in all of her students? And how could I have learned how to put a sentence together without Eileen McGeehee, my 7th grade English teacher, who opened up a whole new world for me by having us conjugate sentences on the blackboard?
It is the foundation laid by them and countless others, like Art Celaya, Santos Vega and Mary O'Brien, to name but a few, that enabled the realization of those big dreams I had, once upon a time in Florence. And they've pretty much all come true for me; just about every single one. I had the opportunity to work for the largest prosecutorial agency in the world (the LA County DA's Office); as well as the opportunity to succeed in oral argument in an appellate case that made legal history (Mendoza v. Rast). It was an amazing ride, practicing law in Los Angeles.
In accomplishing these goals, however, I also learned that all that glitters is not gold. LA was loaded with excitement and opportunity for me, and my heart will always be a little bit Angelino. But the City of Angels is also filled with a lot of other things too; things like smog, noise, crime and traffic, traffic, traffic! All the noise and confusion makes it easy to be anonymous. People don't necessarily know their neighbors well. They hire people to walk their dogs, care for their children, clean their houses and prepare their meals because they are too busy trying to make a living in an extremely competiive market whee the cost of living is sky-high! And, did I mention the monster traffic in LA? It gets worse all the time.
While my homecoming has not been without its challenges, my needs for material and emotional support were met by an army of long-time friends. This community that once cradled me surrounded my needs with their resources, lovingly delivered and humbly accepted. As I recover from the trauma and drama that has been my life of late, I feel an enormous sense of gratitude and belonging,
I guess it all comes down to this: I prefer the personal accountability of this small town to the anonymity of the big city. It's easier to disappear in a big city; easier to get away with things, easier to not care. But, even if I wanted to, I can't hide out in this community, and wall myself off from the rest of the world as I am wont to do. There are folks here who have known me for over 50 years and will organize a search party if they don't see or hear from me for awhile. We all look out for one another in this 2-stoplight town. And, by the way, those 2 stoplights are adorned with lines of cars only twice daily, and ever so briefly, when people travel to and from work in jobs that don't rob them of all their time and energy. Time for family and fun is a priority here.
And then there is the natural beauty of the place and the clean air, especially after a desert rainstorm, like we had last night. As I sit here at my window, I marvel at the Palo Verde tree across the street. It is just beginning to show off its first few blooms of spring; tiny and bright yellow flowers. Soon that tree will be exploding with those screaming yellow blossoms, boldly announcing a new season of life.
I had a beautiful, fenced-in backyard in Los Angeles. I have a fenced-in yard here too, but my real backyard is the beautiful Sonora desert all around me, where I take my dog Maggie for long walks. We love to watch the sky change colors at sunrise and sunset. There really is no place like home.
I know that this is where I belong -- in Florence, AZ, my hometown -- my alpha and omega.
Copyright 2015, Irene Daniel, All rights reserved.
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