Jay Co. is now home

How did you end up here?
That’s a question I heard many times after moving from the Cleveland-area to Jay County to become sports editor of The Commercial Review in 2001.
The answer then was that I moved for the job.
As the years have passed, the question has become different.
Why are you still here?
This Thanksgiving, I’d like to share with you the answer, in more than a few words:
During the last year or so it has struck me how strange it is to go “home” to Avon, Ohio.
Yes, visiting family is always good, and especially needed when the trips can sometimes be few and far between. It’s great to watch “Frozen” with my niece Tatiyana, talk with my parents and play cards with my uncles.
But it’s also odd to walk into the local CVS and not immediately know the employee standing behind the counter. It seems abnormal to stop at the grocery store and not run into someone who wants to discuss sports, local politics or area events.
I’ve become used to knowing the faces and names of most of the characters I see every day.
Sure, there are some negatives to living in such a small community.
We tend to know a little bit too much about each other. Proximity can make privacy a difficult concept.
But at the same time, the closeness of the community creates a climate of camaraderie.
We rally around each other, as we did when JCHS girls basketball coach Chris Krieg suffered a Transient Ischemic Attack in 2005, when JCHS athletics secretary Joni Penrod was battling breast cancer and when WJMS cheerleader MaKenna Davis’ mom died a week prior to this year’s Indiana State Fair competition. We’re a large extended family, there to share in each other’s triumphs and help lift each other up during times of trouble.
I’ve been reminded several times in the last few months, in small ways, how much I enjoy the Jay County atmosphere.
The first such moment came in September, when I made the drive to Wes-Del to watch the Jay County High School Patriots play volleyball against the top-ranked Warriors. I walked into the gym, and the first face I saw was that of former JCHS athletics director Bob Lutton.
I thoroughly enjoyed working with Bob during his second stint here, and relished the chance to catch up with him. I asked about his variety of activities, and he had question after question about the goings on at Jay County since his departure.
That same month I was driving the county roads looking for a potential photograph when I stumbled upon a project I hadn’t seen before. So I pulled in the driveway and asked about it.
I didn’t know Bruce Bailey personally until that day, but I quickly made the connection through his grandchildren — former JCHS athletes Lacey (Thornburg) Robinson and Josh Thornburg. A few days later he was giving me a tour. (He was reluctant to allow me to do a story, but I haven’t given up yet.)
And on the evening of Nov. 14 when I walked into the Jay County High School gym to cover the girls basketball team’s sectional opener, I stopped to visit with my long-time friend and former softball teammate Tom Borders. He was working as a sheriff’s department reserve officer, and as we talked, familiar face after familiar face streamed past.
Soon, the Williams family arrived — Rocky and Lisa, followed by their daughter and son-in-law Hannah and Cory Locke and their new granddaughter Lucy. Hannah, a two-time state medalist on the balance beam for the Patriots, was immediately on my case — she’s one of the nicest people in the world, but I seem to bring out her attitude — saying that she’s already training her daughter to harass me.
It was all in good fun, and I sincerely hope 15 years from now I’m watching Lucy compete at the gymnastics state finals just like her mom did.
I’d like to say these situations are unique, but they’re probably not.
I suspect there are many other places like Jay County — small cities and towns all over the country where similar scenes play out in high school gyms.
But this has become my place, my home.
And for that, I am thankful.