The Gardner Community Center

Today, I'm going to do something a little different. My memories for today are of a place rather than a person. As I have mentioned, I grew up in a small community named after my mom's side of the family. Aunts, uncles, cousins and generations of family friends and their families literally surrounded me. It's a great way to grow up. People cared about each other and looked out for one another. We also had a community center. These days people don't use community centers like they did back then. It's a sad but true reality. Those were the days.

Originally, the community center was the location of one of the county schools. When schools were consolidated, the Gardner School was closed down. In the 1950's, the school board sold the property to the community to use as a gathering place. This was a very common practice, and a good use for old schools.

We had many, many, many family reunions and other events held at the Gardner Community Center. Often we just referred to it as "The Center". It was about half a mile from our house and we passed it on the way to town. The building itself was a functional, block building painted white and nothing fancy. It included a kitchen, two bathrooms, a scary looking storage room that I'm certain had the biggest spiders in the world, a large gathering room and a smaller room. There was a large fireplace with a thick mantel at one end surrounded by comfy chairs and a couch perfect for men to sit and chat around the fire or for a child to curl up and fall asleep while watching the flames dance around. There was an old upright piano that was rarely, if ever, in tune that had one especially off note that would send a twinge up your spine and grab your eyeballs when played. Kids were constantly banging on that piano and being told to stop. Not that I would know anything about that... There were lines of old wooden tables and brown metal chairs. The floor was concrete and great for sliding, but there was a very large area rug covering the middle of the room to provide traction. There were pictures, newspaper clippings and a few ribbons hanging on the wall telling the history of the building and the area. Just inside the doors was an old iron stove Pepaw put over there to add warmth to that end of the building. If I close my eyes I can still see every detail.

The grounds consisted of a few acres where you could find huge, beautiful trees that were no telling how old and a softball field. When I was young, our family used to get games together during reunions. I was somewhere around 4 when I first participated. Of course, everyone was very patient with me and thought it was so cute as I got up to bat. The problem was, after I hit the ball everyone started yelling for me to run and I thought they were yelling AT me. I wound up in tears at first base, my face buried in my dad's legs. I'm sure the ordeal was pretty entertaining...to everyone but me. Anyway, at the Center there were also a couple of basketball goals and several pieces of metal playground equipment painted blue. (The blue is significant because it used to rub off on my hands and turn them blue!) I remember waiting and waiting to be big enough to hang upside down on the monkey bars. They were pretty tall. I felt accomplished by the time I could do it, but I was so old by that time the joy was short lived because it wasn't that exciting when all the blood rushed to my head. And tether ball! There was a tether ball pole. Funny thing is, I had no idea how to play until long after the pole was taken down. We just kinda made up our own game.

The Center was also used as a polling place. My grandparents, family friends and neighbors worked during elections. Memaw was always the person who demonstrated how to vote. This was back in the day when you put a card down in the machine and punched a hole in it. On the demonstration ballot George Washington and Abraham Lincoln were running against each other I believe. I always thought seeing their names was funny. Pepaw was the keeper of the ballot box. After voting one year, Mom gave me her card to put in the box for her. I got up to the box and smiled at Pepaw. He kept his hand firmly on the door over the slot. Since Mom was the registered voter and she was supposed to be the one to put it in the box, he wouldn't let me. His own granddaughter! He was a stickler for the rules.

The community held a Thanksgiving supper every year and had a Halloween party. I loved the Halloween party. They cooked hamburgers and hot dogs, coordinated lots of games where we won lots of candy and little toys and ladies from the community donated baked goods for a big cake walk. The best part was EVERYBODY wore costumes. Kids and adults. Not only that, but there was a large crowd. People came from all over the community and we had the best time.

Over the years, the number of groups renting the Community Center for gatherings became fewer and fewer. As my cousins and I got older and more involved in school, sports and other extra curricular activities, our parents got busier and busier. Then of course, the older people in the area began to pass away. No matter how hard they tried, the people taking care of the community center just couldn't do it. There wasn't enough money coming in to take care of utilities and repairs. The board of directors and trustees donated so much time, money and effort to keep up the grounds and building, but it finally fell into disrepair.

Moving away after getting married was the hardest thing I've ever done. We visit often, and I would love to move back there someday. Gardner will always be home no matter where I am. Every time we drive past the Community Center I dream of what it could be. I envision a small store with pieces of the community's history on the walls for people to learn about its past. A place men come to drink coffee and eat cinnamon rolls early in the morning and talk about the good ole days. A haven where people stop to grab a sandwich and sit on picnic tables under the trees to enjoy God's creation. It would be a great space for a small orchard and a garden to provide fresh produce. A spot to remember the past and merge it with the future. Maybe some day...just maybe.