If you’ll indulge me, rather than writing about a favorite dish from a local eatery, as is the purported bent of this occasional column, I’d like to shake things up a bit. Admittedly, this being only the column’s fourth entry, it might be a little early to be taking a different tack, almost right out of the gate.
And yet, this space is given to me to wield (mostly) as I see fit, filling it with my own thoughts, impressions and general tomfoolery as whim dictates. What’s that old expression? “Deviation is the spice of life?” It’s something like that, anyway.
So let’s deviate.
I’ve read a lot about the Yellow Springs of yesteryear. It’s part and parcel of being a reporter for the News. Thumbing through the hardbound archives we keep here in the office to find historical context for something I’m writing, it’s easy for me to get lost reading the stories and ads of yesteryear. An hour will go by, and I’ll have forgotten what the heck I was actually looking for, but I’ll be wiser for the knowledge that, in 1967, you could get two pounds of prunes for 59 cents at Luttrell’s.
This September will mark 13 years in the village for me. Over those years, I’ve read and heard a wealth of stories about the many ways Yellow Springs has shaped and reshaped itself, and of its people, places and things — some foundational to the memories of folks whose lives have intersected with this town for a time — that have been lost.
If you’re reading this paper in order, you’ll have already read my colleague Jessica Thomas’ story about the food-centric “Blacks in Yellow Springs” tour that was held last weekend. Since she’s already done an admirable job of it, I won’t take pains to recount the nature of these tours — though I will urge you to attend a few, if you haven’t already.
As a lover of both food and local history, the “Black Food Traditions” tour was a no-brainer for me. I’ve long heard stories about places like Gabby’s Pit BBQ and Com’s and wished I could, just for an afternoon, step back through the veil of time and get a taste of the dishes that so impressed generations of folks that they’re still talking about them decades after they’re gone.
What’s that old expression? “It’s better to have eaten and lost than never to have eaten at all?”
Assuming that’s it, I believe it.
