

Me too.
I grew up in South Florida.Not far from Mar-a-Lago, actually. Near Hutchinson Island. I did Boy Scouts all over the state, even got to do stuff with Sea Scouts, Venture Crew, Order of the Arrow. The folks who do all the cool shit. I learned to love my world.
One side of my family was coal miners from West Virginia. We went when I was in 4th grade for a family reunion and I was in love. One night my cousin and I wandered off and it was so dark we damn near fell off the mountain. I’d never seen anything like that darkness, coal mine darkness.
My other grandfather, my dad’s dad, had been a lifelong admirer of the Blue Ridge. I think he was originally from New Jersey but just adored these mountains and spoke lovingly about them whenever he could. He always had coffee table books around about the Appalachians and Montana. The two places in the world that impressed him most, the Blue Ridge and Big Sky.
We moved here when I was 17, just before my senior year of high school in 2003. I was bitter about the timing (what a way to fuck up my social life) but pretty happy about where we ended up.
I’ve been here over 20 years now and keep falling more and more in love with the region. Did you know these mountains are older than bones? And that the Appalachian Trail now officially continues in Scotland, since they used to be connected? No wonder so many Scottish people ended up here, it felt like home.
We are a rainforest (just not a tropical one), and recieve more rain each year than Seattle. Who’s known for it.
There are over 250 species of birds you can see here, about 100 or so are migratory birds that stop on the way elsewhere like Canada geese. You should hear it in spring. I sat in my driveway one day last week and was brought to tears. Im not kidding. One of the highest regions for biodiversity on the entire continent, with species of salamanders and turtles that aren’t found anywhere else. We have some of the greatest fishing rivers in the world, people travel from all over the globe to fish our streams.
And the fireflies! Not many people still have a real show at night anymore like I do. I’ve done my best to let my yard be a haven for pollinators of all sorts. It’s beautiful, every night, all summer long. It won’t last forever, I know how precious what I have is.
But these fucking fascists are taking this all away from me. My family and I are starting to take steps to flee so my son can go to school safely and I don’t have to worry about masked Feds kidnapping my immigrant wife from me.
I love my home. It’s a double-wide trailer and sure I’d really like to build my own house - I’m an electrician who used to frame houses, so I can - but it’s a good enough house. The neighbors, human and otherwise, are lovely, and I’m right in the middle of the whole area for my job. But my home? My home is here, in these mountains. I’ve been homeless, like, really homeless, and i knew it was okay because i had my mountains. It’s my right to love these mountains in spite of the predations of the White Man. Despite all the crimes committed against them and the people who were here before. This is my goddamn home and I want nothing more than to kill for it, to take vengeance on the ignorant bullies I’ve dealt with my whole fucking life who are actively dismantling a country I only barely ever cared about to begin with, but I’ll be goddamned if I let these fucking Confederates destroy my family. So I’ll leave. I’ll take my family where they can be safe. And I can speak.
I am so furious I have trouble expressing it properly. But once I’m on foreign soil and don’t have to worry about losing my wife over speech, I intend to speak VERY loudly.
I’ve spent twenty years learning who I was here, with queer people and immigrants and communists and poets and union organizers and drug dealers and witches and Satanists, and they all deserve better than this BULLSHIT.
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