By Katherine Proctor
Valley Voices Staff Writer
For the past four years, I have been a boarding student at Baylor School. This means that for the past four years, I have been a resident of Chattanooga.
I hail from New Bern, N.C., the state's original capital, the birthplace of Pepsi (which should be reason enough to kick me out of this city) and the home of author Nicholas Sparks. New Bern is also apparently just adorable enough to merit a mention in Southern Living as a "small-town summer getaway."
So when I first arrived in Chattanooga to begin my freshman year in 2006, I perceived the city as a bustling metropolis. I mean, there's a mall here. New Bern has a "mall" too, but its stores lack recognizable names, and its interior is so dim and deserted that it looks like the set of a horror movie with a title like "Food Court Murders: The Twin Rivers Mall Story."
As a temporary Chattanooga resident, I have done all the requisite tourist activities. I have seen Rock City. I have attended a Lookouts game. I have heard a concert at the Tivoli. But my fondest memories of Chattanooga are in its everyday happenings.
A city can be defined by its food, and I have sampled a wide range of Chattanooga's. I appreciate the options that downtown and the Bluff View Art District have to offer, and I have made significant contributions to the Sonic and Waffle House corporations during my high school career.
However, some of my more memorable dining experiences have occurred at places like as Shuford's Smokehouse (impeccable banana pudding), Amigo (unlimited free tortilla chips) and New Peking Mandarin House (free Chinese doughnuts). To me, these culinary gems, behind their less than glamorous exteriors, are Chattanooga.
Another way to get to know the city is to drive in it. I have gotten lost on Hixson Pike in rain so heavy that not even the highest setting of the windshield wipers would reveal the road to me. I have tried to get to North Chattanooga by (briefly) driving the wrong way down a one-way street and suffered the well-deserved accusatory honks. I have also experienced the available joys of driving here, such as Ashland Terrace, which in my opinion is the most fun road in the city. To me, these roads are Chattanooga.
Most importantly, a city is defined by its people. My time here would be a little less pleasant without the lady at the airport food kiosk who always tells me to "have a blessed day" after I've paid for a pack of gum. I am simultaneously appreciative of and creeped out by the barista at a local coffeehouse who found and contacted me on Facebook after I left a notebook there. I am grateful to the Chattanooga families who have given me a place to stay when my flight home was canceled. To me, these people are Chattanooga.
In the fall, I will return to my home state to attend the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. It will be nice to be back. But I know there will be times when I want to be back in Chattanooga. I now face a double dose of homesickness, because Chattanooga has become just as much home to me as my home in North Carolina. A different kind of home but a home nonetheless.
Katherine Proctor is a student at Baylor School.