My fascination with history stems from when I was young.
There’s a park behind my house. It has a play structure and a large field filled with tiny pink
flowers. Situated in the far side of the park is a big white house and a smaller shed-like
building. These two buildings were the museum and the General Store.
I spent almost all of my time here during the summers from when I was 8 to maybe 14. I had
learned everything about all of the different rooms of the house as well as each artifact and
its origin. I would wake up early in the morning and arrive at the museum before the guides
did. I don’t think all of the guides particularly liked me, but two of them took me under their
wing
There’s the first,
He met me when I was 8 and continued to work at the museum for the next four or five
summers. He always remembered my birthday and went out of his way to teach me everything I know.
He basically raised me and I’m still in contact with him now. I don’t think it comes as a
surprise to anyone that he became a history and geography teacher
The second guide,
He was a weird dude and looking back on some of the conversations I overheard, I don’t think
that the other tour guides liked him very much. he usually worked alternating days with my
other favourite. So, on the days where one was gone, two would bring in Magic the Gathering
cards and teach me how to play tabletop games. It was so fun. he bought me my first MTG
starter decks and ended up giving me a large portion of his card collection. He lived on the
same street as me and sometimes when he was late to work they would send me to go knock
on his door to wake him up. Unfortunately, I’m no longer in touch with him. He moved away one
day and refused to give me any way to contact him. Before then, if I needed him to help me
with Magic or if he was to come over to help me learn Hearthstone on my computer, or even hit
the local Friday night Magic tournament with me, I would leave a letter for him in his letterbox. I
often wonder if he’s doing well. I asked the first guide once or twice, but he has no way of
knowing either.
The best days at the museum were the rare ones when one and two worked together. The house tells the story of the family that previously lived there. I became beyond fascinated with their lives, all of the things inside the big white house, and the general store sitting beside it. The house itself smelled of old carpet and wood. There were a number of artifacts inside that I was fascinated by, but my favourite part was the cellar. It was a large cellar. It exposed the foundation of the home. All built by hand using rocks cut perfectly to size by the house owner himself.
The museum never got a proper air conditioner so on days that
were really hot one and two would open up the large trap door and the three of us would
dangle our legs in the cold cellar, drink iced tea, and talk about all sorts of things. Some days
our conversations would circle around history, some days about the new horror movie (I had a
huge fascination with the Purge movies and one worked at a theatre) or some strange internet
meme.
Looking back, I really idolized these two guys. They were just 25-year-old university
students who needed a summer job, but they were a lot more to me. On days where my home
was unstable and my parents were arguing about money, I had a place to go where I never
once had a bad experience. They passed on a lot of their interests to me, they took the time to
talk to me, and as a kid that wasn’t something I often got the privilege to see. I didn’t have any
friends in elementary school and the other tour guides were often confused as to why I was so
dedicated to coming around every day. Rain or shine, I was always there in the morning. I was
always ready to learn something new. one and two never questioned me, they just took me in
and answered my never-ending questions and talked to me about my life.
I will always be grateful for the time I had there, and how it shaped me as a person.