Don't Look Back: Prologue
I stood in my old bedroom, looking around. it was the day after Christmas, and we'd gone to stay over at my dad's. The farm I'd grew up on.
It had been a long time since I'd moved from Slatington. I'd lived in Lock Haven for a long time, over half my life. But this....This room...it was where I'd gotten my start.
Right there....On that floor....That's where I sat down to kill myself. The anniversary of that is coming up....It was January 13, 1986. Thirty years ago.
And instead of dying, I walked downm the road on a warm January night. And I helped an abused girl. And it was what started me off as an adevnturer.
It's been almost thirty years.
I looked, silently, at the place where I'd grown up. Then, slowly, I turned and left the room.
"Hey, Zach? Remember last month when you asked me about Allison Township? That led to a pretty good column. it ran over the weekend; you should check it out."
Zach grinned as we walked in the back room at the library. I work for the Ross Library in Lock Haven, and have for almost four years. I do local history, adult programs, and ghost hunting.
It's not your typical library.
"So how did you get started in local history, anyway?" Zach asked. "I know you've done it for a long time, but...."
"Almost ten years now. I was a drugstore cashier ten years ago, but I was interested in local legends. I was looking into the Tiadaghton Declaration of Independence, and I stopped by the museum to do some research. The director liked me, and when the old curator left because of a curse, they hired me."
Zach nodded. "And now you're with us."
"And I write for the Express, and the Record. And I'm volunteering at Piper, too. And the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers."
"I always wondered how you got started," he said.
I nodded. "I get that a lot."
It had been a long time since I'd moved from Slatington. I'd lived in Lock Haven for a long time, over half my life. But this....This room...it was where I'd gotten my start.
Right there....On that floor....That's where I sat down to kill myself. The anniversary of that is coming up....It was January 13, 1986. Thirty years ago.
And instead of dying, I walked downm the road on a warm January night. And I helped an abused girl. And it was what started me off as an adevnturer.
It's been almost thirty years.
I looked, silently, at the place where I'd grown up. Then, slowly, I turned and left the room.
"Hey, Zach? Remember last month when you asked me about Allison Township? That led to a pretty good column. it ran over the weekend; you should check it out."
Zach grinned as we walked in the back room at the library. I work for the Ross Library in Lock Haven, and have for almost four years. I do local history, adult programs, and ghost hunting.
It's not your typical library.
"So how did you get started in local history, anyway?" Zach asked. "I know you've done it for a long time, but...."
"Almost ten years now. I was a drugstore cashier ten years ago, but I was interested in local legends. I was looking into the Tiadaghton Declaration of Independence, and I stopped by the museum to do some research. The director liked me, and when the old curator left because of a curse, they hired me."
Zach nodded. "And now you're with us."
"And I write for the Express, and the Record. And I'm volunteering at Piper, too. And the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers."
"I always wondered how you got started," he said.
I nodded. "I get that a lot."