14  Leaving Neillsville

West coast colleges, including Stanford, run on the quarter system, with three periods per year instead of the two semester system of most midwest schools. That pushes the first day of classes almost a month past the start dates for all of my college-bound Neillsville friends, who by August were already beginning to pack their bags and say their goodbyes.

I found myself officially invited, for the first time, to honest-to-god parties organized by my high school classmates. Many of us had already turned 18, the legal drinking age in Wisconsin at the time, so the invitations came with the implicit assumptions that beer would be served, along with whatever potential debauchery might ensue.

Fish supposedly are unaware of the existence of water, living so immerse in it that anything else is incomprehensible. Neillsville was my water, and I was that fish, but I was eager to leave and learn all about the world beyond.

My parents insisted on taking me to California. The expense of three plane tickets, not to mention the hassles of getting to the airport and back, made it obvious that they would drive me there. Our family was used to long journeys west, but this would be the first time any of us made it all the way to California. Connie had school, and Gary was working full time so it was just Mom, Dad, and me packing into the car for the long journey to my future.

As we began our five-day drive to California, I asked my parents to stop at the sign outside of town so I could pose for one last photo and say goodbye.

The silly, rebellious teenage me, despite holding no malice toward the city that raised me, stood under the Neillsville sign and recited the Book of Mark:

And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear you, when ye depart thence, shake off the dust under your feet for a testimony against them. (Mark 6:11)

Although I would return, briefly, for Christmas and then again the following summer, my Neillsville life was over. It would be decades before I returned with eyes that were mature enough to understand what I left behind.