Peggy Noonan: Almost Heaven

It's summer, the country's traveling, and the great pleasure to be had from leaving home is meeting and falling in love with a place you've never been to. I end that sentence with a preposition to segue into my favorite story this summer of cultural tensions and differences as navigated by two American women. A Southern lady sees a vacationing society lady from the Northeast. The Southern lady is gregarious: "Where y'all from?" Society lady is put off: "I'm from a place where they don't end sentences with a preposition." Southern lady smiles, nods her head: "Beg your pardon. Where y'all from, bitch?"

It's fun to see cultures collide, because that's one of the ways you know they still exist. America continues to be full of differentness, in spite of the samening effect of national media. (I made up samening. It refers to the tendency of different, small and localized pockets of culture to take on the ways and values of national culture as it is imposed by television, music and movies.)

Local survives. Particular and distinctive survive. Especially in West Virginia.

I have just been there for the first time, and it is a jewel of a state. It is like an emerald you dig from a hill with your hands. You know when you've passed into it from the east because suddenly things look more dramatic. You get the impression you're in a real place. All around you are mountains and hills and gullies, gulches and streams. The woods wherever I went were thick and deep. From Morgantown to Ballengee a squirrel can jump from tree to tree. It is a tall state--the hills, trees and mountains--and shadowy-dark, with winding roads, except for where it's broad and beige and full of highway, courtesy of Robert Byrd. The highways

Peggy has lived with important people too long. I write this from WV, where my mom and dad grew up in adjacent hollers on hillside farms.

Nevertheless, despite all the romance and moonshine of all that, the fact is people everywhere drive faster in urban areas, faster on interstate highways, and slower when the road curves.

And if you've never driven through the mountains of WV off the interstate, you've never seen a road curve.

Actually, in WV, the speed limit on Interstates is 70, and up to 65 on unlimited access four lanes (such as Rt 19, from I-79 to Beckley).

All other highways are 55 or less. Most of the bad drivers I notice have PA or Ohio plates, it seems. In fact, one of the worst drivers passed me at night on a double yellow line with a doughnut spare and one headlight burned out. He had Ohio plates.

You notice it more here when people drive slow, because the curvy mountain roads limit passing opportunities.

All that aside, as a lifelong WV resident, I can say that the author got it right. We're calm, easygoing people, very used to a simple, slow paced way of life. But you don't want to make us angry, because we all have guns. Heck, some of our guns even have guns.

As I posted on another thread today, hearing gunshots here, any time of year, is no big deal. In my backyard, I've fired off my rifle after 11:00 pm on July 4th. I've had law enforcement officers admire my carry weapon, instead of asking me why I thought I needed to carry it.

You usually know your neighbors, and they'll help you in any way they can.

It's not uncommon to go shopping and run into friends or co-workers. In fact, it's hard not to see someone you know. Right off hand, I can think of six families on this block that I actually know in some capacity other than as neighbors.

You can leave your keys in your vehicle. I have a Jeep, and I can leave the top down with my CD's in the console, unlocked. All night.

I can drive 15 minutes and be miles from another living person.

Right now, it's after 11:00 PM. The storm door is closed, but unlocked. The front door is wide open. I can look through it and see cars going by out on the street. If someone walks by on the sidewalk, they're about 20 feet from my door. Chances are about 9 out of 10 that if someone would walk by, I'd know who it was.

Even though I have a CCW permit, I'd feel comfortable walking the 1/4 mile to the local convenience store completely unarmed, right now.

I remember when I was a kid, my best friend's dad got mugged in Charleston. That was over 20 years ago, and he's still the only person I've ever known that got mugged.

This year, my real estate taxes were just a little over $200 on 6 acres and a 1700 sq. ft. house (That 6 acres, by the way, cost me a little over $11,000 when I bought it in 2000. It's about 75% woodland, too). Car taxes on 2 vehicles and a boat were under $50.

I brag about this place a lot, but frankly, I don't mind the fact that people make jokes about it. If it makes people not want to come here, that's fine with me.

Thanks for posting this, presidio9. As it happens, I spent a few days in West Virginia a couple weeks ago, in the Point Pleasant area and took a side trip down to Beckley and over to Hatfield and McCoy country. My first time visiting the state too. Absolutely gorgeous, everywhere I looked.

Here is a photo taken from behind the car windshield of a pretty country road near Point Pleasant (I retouched the bugs off of the windshield and removed a mailbox from along the road). I do believe this is what John Denver was singin' about.

Recognize the road, KET?

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