From the Editors: June 6, 2018
And the dust, it settles on these things
Things begin and things end. It sounds simple, doesn't it? In a way it is, but in a different way, it's something we're never ready to accept and never fully will be. So maybe it's not so simple at all. Or, maybe the answer is — in the immortal words of the girl from the Old El Paso commercial — "why not both?"
The cessation of a thing is usually a cause for despair, or at very least, reflection. We imbue certain things with a life of their own, rightfully so, are sad to see them go. To focus in more specifically, and stop using such frustratingly general and repetitive terms, let's talk about the Riverside Inn. The historic hotel stood from for over 130 years, the symbol of an entire town (though it's more accurately a home rule municipality, but where's the poetry in that?).
In May of 2017, it was destroyed by a fire. To many people it was Cambridge Springs. The Crawford County town, just beyond the county border, is a place with a rich history. John Burdick, a longtime resident, examines that history, taking a personal look at the past, present, and future of his hometown through the lens of the Inn. With it's beautiful turn of the century aesthetic, it perfectly bred nostalgia with gusto. The memories people shared there were amplified by the setting, and after the building's tragic loss, they're boosted even more.
There are things beginning in Cambridge Springs too. Running for several wonderful years, the Riverside Music Festival was one of the best ways to hear local talent, and now it returns just as strong in the form of the Cambridge Springs Music Festival.
North of Crawford County, there's plenty more things that are beginning. After all, it's summertime. Starting in June, there's something to do every day of the week. Take a look at our spotlight section for handfuls of Summer Kickoffs. There's Music in the Park, Movies Under the Stars, and every manner of X + preposition + Y (allow us to humbly suggest "Tunes in the Lagoons").
There's a famous scene in the finale of the first season of Mad Men. In it, Don Draper gives the single most beautiful pitch for a slide projector, beginning with "nostalgia - it's delicate, but potent." He goes on to cite "that in Greek nostalgia literally means 'the pain from an old wound.' It's a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn't a spaceship, it's a time machine. It goes backwards, and forwards … it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It's not called the wheel, it's called the carousel. It let's us travel the way a child travels - around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know are loved."
Memories a beautiful things. Let's continue to make more of them.