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There are two Oneonta's in the United States. Well...at least two worth mentioning. The first---and by that I mean both in order of listing and founding---is in New York. I've never been there, and would not know about it except that my father is from Oneonta, Alabama...the other one. Like many things in Alabama and the rest of the country, its name comes from an Indian word upon which no one can decide a clear meaning.
Now I've grown up in Birmingham which, by coincidence, was also named after another city. This makes us Alabamians look terribly uncreative, but I'll continue. I don't really know what Birmingham means either, but in this case that's not the point. Birmingham, Alabama was named after Birmingham, England because, like its namesake, it was largely a steel-producing city. 'Pittsburgh of the South' and all that. You might have heard it before.
But back to Oneonta. I'm told the name stemmed from the fact that a primary railroad line came to an end there. Similarly, this was the case with Oneonta, New York, where someone important enough to decide upon a town name was from. So, in essence, Oneonta has come to mean "end of the line".
It's tough for me to imagine my father's childhood. Living in a rental house. Vermin a common houseguest. No running water. His father an alcoholic with a hobby of working. His mother an assembly line worker sewing blue jeans all day. Such was life at the end of the line.
I suppose it's possible some of those items would have been the same had my father never left Oneonta and moved to the city. I've lived an exceptionally privileged life due mostly to that one fact. He saw slim opportunities in Oneonta and decided to leave home. I guess it's a decision many people make, but the odd thing for me is that he was about my age when he did so.
Would I have had the foresight to make that decision? If Oneonta was all I knew I'm not sure I would. Most of my father's family still lives there. Never escaping, Oneonta simply continues to be what it always has been. The jobs just aren't there. I'm not saying I am any better or worse than people living there, but I do think that maybe it's time to consider a similar question my father once did: Am I living at the end of the line?
-drew