Last night I made my usual trek from Findlay, Ohio, where I teach seminarians and undergrad religious studies majors, to Perrysburg, about 35 minutes north. I moved with my wife to Perrysburg just under a year ago, a picturesque Midwestern town with parades for just about every occasion, no shortage of American flags, and a proud history of being the only other city platted by the U.S. government (Washington D.C. being the other, of course).
I'll be honest. Small-town living has been a bit of a re-adjustment for us. While both my wife and I were raised in the area, we left for the city life of Chicago more than 17 years ago and later spent several years in Philadelphia. It came as a shock when, during one of the worst economies in U.S. history, the school with the most immediate faculty opening after my doctoral graduation was smack in the middle of Ohio. I had fond memories of my childhood here, but I'd lived in big cities all of my adult life. In Philadelphia, almost all of the 11 neighbors in our apartment building were from other countries or ethnicities. We grew accustomed to the potent cacophony of scents that filled our hallway at dinnertime. Not so in Perrysburg.
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