I’ve had the great pleasure of living in and traveling around some quite fabulous places in this life of mine.
They were all so unique, special and memorable in their own ways.
Colorado, Hawaii, New Zealand and Ireland are some of the first locations to come to mind as I recall them. But it was Nevada that got me to know and love the desert life.
And there’s one small town in particular that grabbed and then held me in its charm for a few years.
After a lengthy time of living there, well I really began to put down roots and I knew that if I didn’t leave then I never would.
And I did.
Faraway places kept calling me and one day, like a tumbleweed. I bounced on down the road.
I no longer live in Lovelock. That is why my columns are no longer filled with children’s laughter in the park, the distant barking of dogs and the pleasant sounding of horns from passing trains. But in my mind, I still hear and see them. I’m sure it’s one stoplight still cycles through green, yellow and red on a mostly empty street. People from the outside world still glide by on the freeway thinking “What town is this again?” and “Should I stop for gas?”.
The post office, Safeway and the pharmacy are most likely the hubs of activity in town. The noble, round stone courthouse is its legal foundation. The middle school and high school still take up four days a week of a kid’s life. The community pool and park provides them fun and play in the summer. And you will still find them sitting on the courthouse steps after school in the afternoon.
Churches are filled on a Sunday morning, The bars are full on Friday nights. There is a regular flow of friendly, elderly people at noontime senior center lunches, The activity, schedule and passing of time is so easy to picture in my mind of this quaint western town.
Old buildings and lingering history are all around, Still its people live in an eternal now. It is as though things almost never change. You could leave for years and when you return things would still be very much the same.
Frontier Days, rodeos and other weekend events highlight the summer, Friendly greetings, smiles and human kindness are everywhere to be found. Life there seems like a flashback to how things used to be in America many years ago. It’s somewhat like what the old folks refer to as: “the good old days”.
Small well-kept homes have white picket fences, Flower beds and rock gardens along the street attempting to outdo one another. So do many homes all lit up with red, blue and green sparkling lights at Christmas time.
The truck stop and gas stations pull travelers off the freeway, but only for a while. They are soon off again heading down the long highway never realizing what a special oasis they have just been through, McDonalds also pulls in passers by for a quick snack, a trip to the bathroom then back on the road again.
Fat black cows graze on the green grass belt of farmland that surrounds and separates the town from the vast desert, A light flow of water trickles through on the Humboldt River. Miners, ranchers, truckers, cowboys, bikers, preachers, attorneys, kids and old people; they all come and go and cross paths in this sparsely populated small desert town.
The distant hills and the Humboldt Range light up and change through many pretty colors at sunrise and sunset.
Most of all it is its people that make this town so special. They survive and live a good life in the middle of the desert. What is so special about them you may ask? Just look and you will see it shining through their smiles. There is goodness in their eyes and kindness in their hearts.
Ironically the town’s name is quite fitting, There is a treasure trove of love in Lovelock. Like gold stored in a bank vault, love is locked in padlocks in great abundance in the park by the courthouse.
Their keys long discarded, these padlocks (hundreds of them) symbolize promises of eternal, unconditional true love.
You can truly say: there is love in the heart of Lovelock.
I no longer live in Lovelock. But Lovelock lives on in my memory.
Dan O’Connor can be reached at danhughoconnor@gmail.com