The Lambrecht Chevy dealership opened in Pierce after World War II. My parents bought their first car there in 1954 after taking driving lessons. I loved that beautiful pea green Chevy, and I loved Pierce. If you click the link you'll find the many posts I blogged about each.
Pierce was my Neverland, a place I could go in my imagination. It held my roots, at least the roots I claimed, the pull of genealogy and stories told round the dining table after the "littler kids" went to bed. It also held adventure. I feel stitched into this place, bound and free at the same time.
Pierce was a shared territory I could call up for my father as his mind was beginning to fade. We could walk its few streets in we put our heads together. We could peer in the dusty window of the Chevy dealership at the old cars collected there, or we could cross the street to the Home Filling Station for a sip of water from the fountain out at the sidewalk.
|Howie's recollected map of Main Street in Pierce|
I cannot auction off memories or connections like vintage Chevys. No one on Craigslist wants the rocking chairs and salt cellars. The map below is a little easier to read than Dad's handwriting. I haven't been to the geographic Pierce in thirty years, but I visit it often in my mind.
© 2013 Nancy L. Ruder