America’s Driveway in the Foothills of Virginia

My family heritage has roots in “small town America.”

America Maxfield, my maternal grandmother, lived in a small town in the foothills of Virginia. When my twin sister and I were seven, we lived with our grandparents for a few years along with our mother. Moving from our birthplace of El Paso, Texas, to a small town in the southwest mountains of Virginia, Big Stone Gap. Our mother grew up in Big Stone Gap—and so would we—and a younger sister who came along a few years later.

My grandfather bought and sold scrap metal at a junk yard he owned—visible from their house and nestled at the bottom of the hill. A long, curvy, uphill driveway lead to their home.

Childhood memories are filled with the trek up and down the driveway by foot or bicycle—building calf muscles on the uphill trips. Catching the school bus or going to the junk yard to see my grandfather. My grandmother always seemed to be doing something in the kitchen and had snacks ready when we came in from playing.

Memories—in small town America.

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