The longer you live in the St. Louis area, the more you come to understand it is a region of “places.” People here derive a large share of their identity from where they grew up and where they currently live. More than merely a return label they stamp on an envelope, a sense of identity tied to one’s neighborhood, municipality or even unincorporated area is strong here. The questions “Where are you from?” or “Where do you live?” can bring on a hundred unique replies. Even the famous St. Louis question, “Where did you go to high school?” is used as a way of defining one’s local identity within the region (as well as economic status). “Locale” means something here.
I’ve had the pleasure of visiting countless community fairs and other events over the years: Affton Days, the SunCrest Festival (Crestwood/Sunset Hills), Fenton Days, the Kirkwood Greentree Festival, as well as those hosted by schools, churches and service organizations. It may seem hokey to some, but it’s at such occasions where your connectedness to the community in which you live is reinforced. Even in these starkly divided and politically volatile times, such gatherings emphasize the common spirit of community that unites us over issues that divide us.
The latest local celebration I attended was the 30th anniversary of the City of Green Park on Sept. 14. A city of 2,700 residents, it was the last municipality among the almost 90 in St. Louis County to incorporate and is well situated with subdivisions near the south stretch of Lindbergh between Tesson Ferry and Interstate 55. I’ve driven past and through it thousands of times.
It was a sunny, sweltering afternoon as the heat index hit 103 degrees, yet by the time I arrived halfway through the event, over 150 people had shown up and more were pouring in. Some folks chose to brave the heat and sit outside under tents set up in the City Hall parking lot, but I decided to go inside the air-conditioned building, where people were signing up for raffle prizes and watching a looped photographic history of Green Park on a big screen. A band on the stage outside was playing hit songs from the ’60s through today, which I thought covered the age demographic well.
As I sat eating my complimentary hot dog, chips and cookie, I struck up a conversation with a woman who was there with her husband and toddler-aged granddaughter. She told me she grew up in Green Park years ago, but came back to live with her mother who is in her late 80s and no longer able to live alone. Her mom recently sold the home to her son, and she was happy to be able to keep the house in the family. One thing about living local is that, mentally and emotionally, you never really leave, and some homes get handed down to succeeding generations.
I also spoke with a few ladies managing the sign-in table. Helen Summers, a longtime resident, handed out free food and raffle tickets to visitors. “I’m not from here,” I let her know, to which she replied warmly “that doesn’t matter to us.” She introduced me to her neighbor and good friend, Sally Syberg, the spry matriarch of the restaurant family who has lived in Green Park long before it was incorporated as a city. Sally, now 91, has lived in the same home since 1961 – an incredible 64 years during which the family’s restaurant empire was launched and expanded across the region. Mrs. Syberg could have surely moved anywhere else over the decades, but I was amazed she chose to stay. Again, commitment to place and one’s local community runs strong for some people.
There were also plenty of young families in attendance, a reminder that eventually all neighborhoods or even entire municipalities undergo generational “life cycles.” It was a promising sign of future community vitality, a word whose Latin root means “life.” However, no matter the change that comes with the passage of time, celebrations of local life only remain vibrant as long as residents, old and new, stay involved and care what happens in their localities. That means encouraging business growth, providing good public safety services, high-performing schools and residential homes that are well maintained by those who still have pride about where they live. Without it, any town or city is bound to wither.
Maybe it’s worth asking ourselves: How can I contribute to the vitality and connectedness of my community?
