I was born in Bryan, five miles from where we live today. We live a few miles south from what was the Gerencser family farm on County Road A. We often travel down Route 15 to Bryan to shop, eat, and receive medical care. As we pass the 100-acre farm my grandparents once owned, my mind romantically turns to thoughts of Grandpa plowing and discing the ground, hoping for a harvest of beans, corn, or wheat. I think about their hard life as immigrants; no indoor plumbing and a single pump handle for water in the kitchen. My roots run deep into the rich farmland of rural Ohio. This is my home.
When we first married, we lived in rural northwest Ohio for less than a year. We then spent the next 14+ years living in central (Newark, Buckeye Lake, Frazeysburg) and southeast (Somerset, Mt Perry, Glenford, Junction City, New Lexington) Ohio.
In 1995, we returned to northwest Ohio. I pastored two churches, one in Fayette, and another in West Unity. In 2002 we left, and in 2005 returned to stay. Here I was born, and here will I die. This is home.
Eighteen years ago, we bought a ramshackle two-story house in the one-stoplight-two-bars-and-one gas-station town of Ney — population 354. We live in Defiance County — a static/declining county. I went to usafacts.org to check how Defiance County demographics have changed throughout our marriage. I found our population is declining, older, and slightly less white. I see nothing in the numbers that suggests these things will change any time soon, if ever. Remove Defiance College from the demographics, we are older and whiter. This is just how it is. You accept that you live in a largely aging, white community — one that is largely Christian and Republican. Only in who we root for — Michigan or Ohio State? Bengals, Lions, or Browns? Reds, Tigers, or Guardians? —do we find diverse demographic splits.
Polly and I are liberals; socialists; pacifists; atheists; humanists; and cat lovers — me outwardly so, Polly quietly so. Our values say we should be living somewhere on the East or West Coast, but here we are. This is home. We know that most of our neighbors disagree with us. Even in the Defiance County Democratic Party — to whom we committed to support and become more active — we are to the left of most of our fellow Democrats. We accept we will always be the black swans in a bevy of white ones. So why do we stay?
First, our six children, their spouses, and our sixteen grandchildren live here. We want to be involved in their lives as much as possible. Living here allows us to do this. We don’t want to be long-distance grandparents. Family matters to us. If it didn’t, we would still be living in Arizona.
Second, we love the slow — watch paint dry, corn grow, farmer Joe slowly walking across the road to get his mail — pace of life. When we get a hankering for good food, entertainment, etc. we drive to Fort Wayne, Toledo, or Findlay — all three are about an hour away. Then we come home to nothing-ever-happens-here-and-we-like-it-that-way Ney. Honk when you drive by and we will wave, even if we don’t know you.
Third, rural northwest Ohio is familiar to us; it’s home. Even Polly, a convert from Bay City, Michigan calls this place home. We have planted our roots here and they have grown deep. Wendell Berry often talks about the importance of place. I agree with him. On one hand, I have wanderlust, having moved countless times over my sixty-seven years of life. On the other hand, I value what we have planted, grown, and cultivated as a family here in farmland country.
A gospel song says “I’ve come too far to look back.” So it is for Polly and me. This is home, and here we will one day draw our last breath. We embrace Defiance County as it is, while at the same time working to make our home more diverse, tolerant, and kind. Many days, this goal seems hopeless, but we don’t give up.
This is home.
Bruce Gerencser, 67, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 46 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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I’m saving that picture. I distinctly remember meeting Paul Gerencser with my Father at Freddy’s in Bryan. Paul was wearing blue denim bib overalls. Like my Father, Paul was powerfully built from and for hard physical labor. I often said my Father on a good day could whip the heavy weight champion and Paul Gerencser made the same impression. Two hard working immigrant guys who looked like there was nothing they coudn’t do and no one that could possibly defeat them.
Your roots are deep there and Iundestand the attraction. Small town life has it’s appeal. The last place I felt at home was Evansport which makes Ney look metropolitan. If I survive to vist the buckeye again it will be to visit Evansport. On the way home I will drive by the Gerencser place and wave and honk.
My wife and I are cat 🐈⬛ lovers too. We just had to let our companion of 15 years, Bella, go yesterday. I cannot describe how heartbroken I am.
We often don’t think of those who are always there for us everyday when we come home from work, etc. Bella was always there at the door waiting for me. It didn’t matter whether I was in a good mood or bad mood, she was there sitting by her food bowl. After I fed her and settled in, she would come sit in my lap. The last year or so she would soon fall asleep. For about the last 2-3 months she also wanted to sit with Leslie wrapped up in a blanket. We’ve known for the last 6 months or so that every day we had with her was a gift. She had began losing weight but was still eating, getting around. A few days ago her behavior drastically changed and we knew it was time. I am thankful for the time Leslie the kids and I had with her, and that I could spend a good deal of yesterday with her, too.
I say this because as I get older and deal more with the inevitability of the loss of loved ones and companions (that’s personally what I think a cat is), the less I am interested in politics in general, but particularly the Bernie Moreno hate-filled commercials I have to see on YouTube while I’m trying to enjoy my channels I subscribe to (my favorite is a guy who has a sawmill in TN).
Rudy Giuliani, in his infinite wisdom, said, “if you’re young and conservative you have no heart, and if you’re old and liberal you have no brain”. Like just about everything else he has said, other than his answer on Saturday Night Live after the 9-11 attack (he was asked if the show could “be funny”..he thought for a second and answered, “why start now?”) I think his logic is supremely wrong, at least based on my experience. I think as we get older we become more attuned to our frailties. Yesterday was a reminder to me that you should never miss an opportunity to be kind, and to be close and affectionate to those you share your life with. Unfortunately I also think the realization of our vulnerabilities as we age also leads to fear. Fear that we will not be able to help and protect not only ourselves but our loved ones, including our animal companions.
I have actually become more liberal as I have aged, contrary to Rudy’s infinite wisdom on the topic. It’s not because of some ideological realization, but because I emphasize with people and beings that are in distress and pain more now, having experienced both myself. The Bernie Morenos of the world only offer a panacea to fear. They don’t offer real solutions to the complex problem of immigration and criminal justice. Because those solutions cannot come from a place of fear but from a place of empathy.
This was beautiful, Bruce. I can’t say that I feel a great connection to a home. I was born in Knoxville, TN but barely remember living there as my mom and I traveled back and forth between Knoxville and Nashville each week when I was 4 when she and my father were separated,and we permanently moved in with my grandparents in the Nashville area when I was 5. When I was 12, my mom remarried, and for several years I’d visit my mom, stepdad, and brother on the weekends while living with my grandparents during the week until my mom and stepdad built a house across the street. In college, I lived in the dorm in Nashville, then for 2 years after college I lived with my mom and stepdad and brother in 2 different houses before moving to NJ. I lived in 3 apartments before buying my 1st house where we lived for 3 years, then bought a bigger house where we’ve lived for 22 years. I look to move somewhere else in the future, but I am not sure when or where. I don’t feel like anywhere is truly HOME because I have never felt that I truly fit in anywhere. Tennessee is familiar, but I haven’t lived there in 30 years, though I visit a lot. NJ is where I have built a career and raised a family.
I have researched my family history, and I can’t find any ancestors who came to the US later than the 1700s. I have so many who came in the 1600s and settled in MA, PA, NY, VA, MD. Some were indentured servants, some were younger sons of minor British nobility, some were French Huguenots, some were Germans, some were Dutch, some were Cherokee. A handful had stories I could read, while others were just names whose stories are long forgotten. I suppose I feel more of a general connection to people who left home to settle a barely-known land, those who moved farther west and south (I was surprised at the amount of migration there was). Home? I am an American, that’s about it.
John I’m here with my twentytwo year old survivor Dollie. the last of a cat family descended from my golden retriever’s personal kitty pal, Polly. Every day at her age is a bonus. She still gets me up at 7 AM and demands her meals on schedule even when she isn’t hungry. They ask so little and give so much companionship. Nothing else in life quite compares. Dollie’s sister and her kitten passed this year in the same week. The price of surviing to old age is burying our loved ones. Almost every contemporary of mine passed in the last couple years and there is no time left to make new old friends or to raise any more pets to od age. I know now what they meant when they said old age is not for sissies. Life is still an ongoing adventure. and I wonder what every day will reveal including this one. Time may be short but every day still is new and I’m grateful for every day Dollie survives.
Yep right on Dutchguy. I know the ritual, especially on the weekend when I could sleep in. Between 7am to 7:30am- would first hear the scratching of carpet followed by Leslie yelling, “Hey! Bella! Stop!” Followed by a “meow!”. Then about 5 minutes later pitter patter on the bed then the cats eyes looking at me laying in bed, followed by her climbing on my chest and laying there, looking at the door to the kitchen where he food bowl is..I would gently push her off to the middle of the bed (towards Leslie who was still sleeping). Then Leslie yelling at me for pushing the cat towards her. Then five minutes later, the cat is back on my chest, looking at the kitchen. This ritual continues until I finally get out of bed. Then “meow, meow,meow” until I empty the food bowl of yesterday’s food and fill it full of “new” food..
In all seriousness, you are definitely fortunate to have such a good friend to continue to be part of your life. They transform our lives just as much as we transform theirs.