The Linwood I think I remember

But on most visits home from school, I haven’t really felt the same way I used to about Linwood. Sure, home is home, and nothing beats my mom’s cooking. But when I drove around town during spring break, the community felt strangely alien to me. I rationalized this feeling by noting that Princeton’s spring break didn’t coincide with the breaks at my friends’ schools, so most of them weren’t around. Perhaps, I figured, it would be different when my friends were home.

That’s part of why I’d been looking forward to getting off for the summer. Though I knew I’d be going to Washington, D.C., for an internship soon after exams, I figured that the time I’d spend at home before then would be a valuable opportunity to reunite with friends and experience a Linwood that was less barren of my former classmates than what I saw over spring break.

But thanks to my light Dean’s Date workload and to the fact that my only in-class exam was scheduled for the end of exam period, I was able to do something unusual for a Princetonian during reading period: I spent the week at home. With many of my friends returning in early May, I figured I might as well spend as much extra time in Linwood as possible.

A few nights ago, I went with three of my friends to see “Iron Man 2,” and on the way back, one of them asked, “Isn’t this area kind of depressing now?” Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. More interestingly, though, it wasn’t just a matter of not having friends home. In our eyes, the community really seemed to have changed.

Maybe the recession has had something to do with it. Since the regional economy depends on Atlantic City’s casinos, which suffer a lot when Americans become less willing to spend their extra money, the economic downturn has been felt rather acutely. In the months since I left for school, Bank of America closed the branch that had always been right next to my street. A number of local businesses have folded. It even seems like people’s homes have fallen into disrepair — my friends and I all observed fading paint and unmowed lawns in greater abundance than we remembered.

There have also been big changes at our high school. Construction is under way to replace the roof, so the interior looks noticeably different from the way we all remember it. But the changes aren’t all to the looks of the building. In the wake of major cuts to state funding of public schools, some of our former teachers have been laid off. Though they’ll all be there until June, the school already feels emptier.

I think part of what my friends and I are feeling is that we’ve changed too. One friend who goes to school in New York told me about how boring and quiet Linwood feels now after having spent a year in the city. Princeton’s certainly not New York, but like any other school, it’s a hotbed of activity. To some extent, my friends and I never realized how sleepy Linwood was because we simply knew no alternative. That’s not the case anymore.

I suppose it’s possible we were all just down on South Jersey this week because of the crummy weather that ruined what might have been a nice week at the beach. And there’s a fair chance that things haven’t changed all that much. Maybe being gone for a year has just made us more sensitive to the few changes that have occurred. But I have a hunch that I’ll be feeling this nostalgia for the Linwood I remember — or, at least, the Linwood that I think I remember — every time I visit home.

I still think I might want to live in Linwood after I’m done with college. Again, all things considered, it’s a great town in a great area. But it won’t feel exactly like the place I grew up in. That’s one adjustment I wasn’t ready for when I left for school in September.

Jacob Reses is a freshman from Linwood, N.J. He can be reached at jreses@princeton.edu.