Christopher Hurlburt:  

Life For the past three decades, the constant in my life has been Jackson. The birthplace of the Republican party. Born in Indiana, I was dragged - kicking and screaming (I was only 2, I was allowed to throw a tantrum) - to this place nestled in the palm of the mitten-shaped state of Michigan. Raised in Jackson. Schooled in Jackson. And now I work in Jackson. I have no life, but if I did, that too would be in Jackson. This town is my home. The signs at the city limits read “we like it here”. There are days when I would count myself in that number, and still others when I would not. School School for me, like most people my age I suppose, began with Kindergarten. None of this pre-school and day-care hooey they have nowadays. Anyway, for my first two years, I went to Our Lady of Fatima, which is where my Mother taught. There is nothing like having your Mother as your First Grade teacher! Perhaps because of that, or other reasons, my parents, in their infinite wisdom, decided to transfer me to St. John’s for Second Grade. St. John’s was great of course – well, better than “the F-word” anyway – but I’m just now beginning to realize the trauma of being an outsider when you’re seven years old. Friendships were forged at St. John’s in First Grade, so being the new kid in 2nd didn’t help matters. But it explains a lot. I still quite haven’t figured out why I was so dehumanized and humiliated in Fifth Grade, but it just doesn’t matter. Somehow, I survived. I’m not really going to even bother to talk about JCMS. Those were truly the two worst years of my life. I’m still trying to figure out why I quit playing football after 7th grade. I assure you, it wasn’t because I cost us a two-point conversion in the Western game. It wasn’t my fault! Okay, so maybe it sort of was. But being a Raider wasn’t horrible all the time. Some of my shenanigans still manage to bring a smile to my face. Does anyone want to buy a Michigan Week button so they can wear blue jeans? Only 10 cents! It was definitely worth getting kicked out of Religion class for that. And that brings us to high school. To this day, as difficult as times were back then, I am proud to be a Christi Critter! Even though, in many respects, high school was just four more years of the fiasco that was middle school, I’ll never forget, and truly believe, the words that Father Rieden spoke to me on Graduation night when he said, “you’re lucky to be here.” Walking away from a car crash the night before, yes I was lucky....Expand for more