I remember living in Providence, KY before my family moved to Michigan.
It was in school there that I first learned about R.L. Stine's Goosebumps series; where I watched a lot of Are You Afraid of the Dark? and Nickelodeon in general; and it was the town where I became friends with a girl who, for some reason, I thought was a witch because she always wore an eyeball ring and laced dresses.
It was a place where one year my grandma helped us quickly spin up Halloween costumes so we could go trick-or-treating. I dressed up like a pirate, because it was easy to put that costume together, and we went out into the darkness on an especially cool and windy night. I remember the lights of the houses, the smell of the clean air, and gazing up at the tree-covered hill by the school which looked like a massive haunted shadow. I imagined that a cemetery full of ghosts was there in the blackness beneath those trees.
All of that exists now only as a series of images and sensory memories. I can remember my grandma's voice then, the chill of that Halloween night, the taste of candy, and I can remember feeling endless as we wandered the sidewalks of that perfect period in celebration of the spirit of the holiday.
I didn't appreciate Providence as much as I should have, but it will live in my mind and heart for the rest of my life because of times like that Halloween and the great things my loving grandmother would do for us.
Providence was also the only place I have ever seen a ghost, but that's another story for a different time.
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