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It’s good to be here

By Eric Morris emorris@heraldstandard.Com 4 min read

May 19 marked my first day on the job. I sat down at my age-worn desk in the corner of the newsroom and thought about how this was the first day of my professional career. It had all happened so fast.

I had moved to Fayette County just two days prior. Instead of attending my graduation ceremony and celebrating with friends and family, I took the weekend to haul all of my belongings to a Uniontown apartment.

It was an exciting little whirlwind, but I’ve settled in. In my short time here, I’ve met many welcoming and friendly people — the convenience store clerk who struck up a conversation about beer prices, and the county official who opened his office to me when I was seeking information for one of my first stories. Those are just a couple of examples.

But there are so many people that I haven’t yet had the chance to meet, so I’d like to use this column to introduce myself and share a bit of my background.

I’m coming here from Pittsburgh, where I lived for a couple of years while working on a couple of master’s degrees. As part of my coursework, I recently spent an extended period of time studying in Glasgow, Scotland. And before all of that, I spent my first 21 years growing up in Maryland.

I’m no stranger to this area, though. I spent a lot of time here last summer interning as a reporter with the Herald-Standard. I got to know the dedicated newspaper staff and some of Fayette County’s passionate residents, and I got to visit parts of this scenic county I’d never seen before.

Before my time here, I’d heard some stories about Fayette County. I’d also heard the area called some undesirable nicknames. I’d been told the area was riddled with crime and economic depression, just like a lot of other places in southwestern Pennsylvania.

There is obviously more to it than that. I’ve come to learn that this is an area steeped in history, an area not unlike my home in Maryland.

My family is from western Maryland.

The Mason-Dixon line is a short 40 minute drive from Uniontown on Route 40 East.

Western Maryland is a mere appendage to a coastal state on the doorstep of the nation’s capital.

On several occasions, I’ve heard people remark that the western end of Maryland would be better suited as part of Pennsylvania or West Virginia, as it has much more in common with those two states than its own. (Within the past year, advocates in the region began a campaign to secede from Maryland and form its own state. While I don’t believe that is necessary, it highlights the disconnect between capital Annapolis and the state’s western counties.)

There is a slew of things that Maryland is known for — Ocean City’s boardwalk and beach, Orioles baseball and Ravens football, the University of Maryland and the U.S. Naval Academy, the National Aquarium in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor and the Chesapeake Bay’s blue crabs, to name a few.

I can’t speak for everyone from western Maryland, but none of these things apply to me. Sure, I’ve experienced many of the things my home state is famous for, but these things aren’t part of my life. I don’t identify with them.

I grew up in Appalachia. I come from a town that is home to blue collar coal miners and mill workers. I spent many summer days jumping into lakes and floating down rivers. I was raised to root for the black and gold of Pittsburgh’s sports teams. Trips to Pittsburgh were frequent when I was growing up, slicing through Fayette County on the way.

When I was a kid I thought Uniontown was a big city.

On rides home after watching the Pens or the Buccos play, I would turn around when the car got to the top of Summit Mountain and look down on the lights of Uniontown.

I knew it only as the city we would bypass to get to Route 51 so we could finish our trek up to the Steel City.

I always wondered what Uniontown was like, what the city had to offer, what occurred there.

I still drive over that mountain pretty frequently.

And I still take in the view of sprawling Greater Uniontown when I crest the hill. But I don’t have to wonder anymore. I’m here.

And it feels good to be here.

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