News-Record.com

I love going to my wife's hometown, Columbus, N.C., for the Fourth of July.

Columbus, county seat of Polk County, counts barely a thousand residents, but they all turn out for the Fabulous Fourth celebration. So do people from throughout the area.

Festivies begin the night of the third with gospel singing across from the fire station and next to the new veterans memorial.

Early on the morning of the Fourth, the main road through town, N.C. 108, is blocked off. It stays closed until well after midnight.

A welcome by the mayor and the national anthem start things off at 10. Events include the 40-yard dash, horseshoe tournament, greased pole climbing, live music all day and evening, rides for the kids, lots of food and a pretty darn good fireworks display after dark.

We set up chairs on the courthouse lawn facing the bandstand, under a shade tree, with old Starnes School in the background. That's where Margaret attended school from first through eighth grade, where her father attended all the way through high school. Now it's used for administration and the grounds are a park. The house where she grew up, where he parents still live, is just around the corner.

From that location, we can see everyone walking by -- and everyone does sooner or later.

That's another reason I enjoy the Fourth here. I don't have a hometown like Columbus. I grew up in several towns in four different states. I couldn't name a "home" town. But when we visit Columbus for the Fourth, we not only get together with Margaret's family, but we see people she grew up with. It's always a reunion, a time for catching up, sharing laughs and stories about high school or even further back. To me, it represents what going home really means.

Of course, in such small towns, it seems sometimes like everyone knows you all too well. Heck, they know your parents and grandparents. But that also bestows a sense of belonging, of acceptance.

Margaret and I have been married for 28 years, so I've spent a lot of time in her hometown. I appreciate it more every year, and I think she does, too.

A writer from not too far from Columbus wrote you can't go home again. Too bad he wasn't from Columbus. He might have enjoyed its Fourth of July celebrations.