A Case of the Croydon Crazies

"I live in my own little world, 

but that's okay, they know me here."

- Lauren Myracle

     I can walk around my little town and wave to every person on their front porch or their front lawn and they might not know my name, but they know my face. I have to leave my town to visit any store larger than the corner store or CVS and you know you can't go shopping there. We have three stoplights, yep, just three and a ton of disobeyed stop signs. I could walk to church, but most morning I prefer to drive (especially with this rain) just to feel the wind in my hair. I may have been blessed enough to travel to many foreign countries, learn many new languages, and meet tons of new people, but nothing beats coming home to this small town. Nope, nothing at all. Because this is where I come from, this is the place that built me, this is home. 

    Good old Croydon. You know, we used to have a busted up sign at the end of Cedar Avenue that said, "Welcome to Croydon." For a while it didn't exist but it came back full force. We were known for a few things back in the day. One of them being: Croydon, the location of the most dangerous intersection along Route 13. Another was being known for the city with the most bars on route 13. Finally, one of my personal favorites is being known as the armpit of Bucks County. Now, I'm sure it used to be what the other cool cat cities in Bucks County used to call us because they wanted to belittle us, but let's be honest, I know it's because they were just jealous (and still are). After 21 years of living here, I can say not much has changed. There's still a good amount of bars here, that intersection, while it has had a bit of reconstruction, is still dangerous and people still refer to us as the armpit of Bucks County, but only in retelling tales of their childhood. To be honest, I'm glad Croydon hasn't changed much.

     For a long time, I was so used to people having no idea where Croydon was, or that it even existed. Whenever people would ask where I was from, I was say: Croydon, right outside of Philadelphia. Then I went to Immaculata. The year before I was born, so 22 years ago, the IHMs left our little church and school. However, it still remains a fresh memory in some sisters' minds. Before I could even get out the "right outside of Philadelphia" part, the sisters would be telling me all about how there used to be an IHM Mission there or about how many years sister spent there. This happened in Peru with one dear sister. She immediately told me that she was from my neighbor city, Bensalem. She began telling me story after story about the Crazy Kids from Croydon. I could only laugh....one more thing we were known for. 

     I remember afternoons sitting on Mr. Frat's front lawn only a few years back and listening to stories about how everyone from neighboring cities knew not to miss with the kids from Croydon. I've heard the stories of fights that didn't happen because a Croydon kid stepped in and no one wanted a piece of that. The Sisters who had been stationed at STA back in the day told me that they loved the Croydon kids (and I mean really, who wouldn't) but that they were tough kids. If I hadn't heard Mr. Frat's stories, I never would have believed it. But I guess that's because our toughness came out in a different way when I was a kid. 

     I once had a conversation with one of the sisters at school about where I was from. I had gotten some bad news that particular day and I handled it the only way I knew how, by toughing it up. Of course, I'm a sensitive gal and so toughing it up meant not talking about it. She was worried about me and so she sat me down in her office to chat. I barely said anything for a while, so she did a lot of the talking. But then finally it all came out. Suddenly, in the middle of my story, she asked me where I was from. When I said Croydon, said sighed and said, "Well now it all makes sense." I had appeared as a mystery to many people on campus, especially the sisters. I was a happy go lucky girl who had a Philadelphian accent with a touch of Southern twang (and when I get really mad (which is rare) or really hype about something, you can count on it coming out full force). I smiled at everyone, waved and said hello. I was gentle, but I was also tough. I didn't let things bother me, I shrugged it off. I often spoke my mind in classes and was open about my beliefs. I wore my heart on my sleeve and yet, it was protected by an electric force. None of this about me makes sense unless you know where I am from: Croydon.

     Someone called me the sweetest no nonsense girl she had ever met. What more do you want from me? I'm from Croydon. We do things small here but we do them right. We don't play games, we keep it real. In church on Sunday morning, there's no such thing as quiet. No, from the next block over you can hear the laughter of the brother knights of Columbus or the joyous shouts from all the kids. We don't do the handshake thing here, either, we hug and kiss and say I love you. We are so interconnected that outside people often mistake all the little ones for my little sisters and brothers or all the knights or ladies from the Ladies Auxiliary as my parents. As you've read before, no one really sits with only their immediate family here in church, no we sit with everyone. We love each other, we look out for each other, we have each others' backs. My city, my church, my Croydon family has made me this sweet girl who loves Jesus and America, too.

     We are all products of where we live and who raised us. The saying it takes a village to raise a child certainly applies to me and any Croydon kid. We may have been called the armpit of Bucks County and maybe we don't always have the best of reputations, but I grew up to love this place because it made me who I am. I'm the sweetest no nonsense girl you could ever meet. I love you upon first meeting you, I will love you til the end. But remember, no nonsense. I do have a little tough girl in me somewhere. Sister told me not to be ashamed of where I was from...I never was. She said, whatever you do, don't knock where you're from because that's what made you the great person you are today. I could never knock Croydon because I love this hidden gem of a small town we have going on here. I love that right between Bucks County Ritz and Philly City Streets lies this little gem called Croydon, where everyone knows your name. Truth is, I can't thank God enough for the small town and the people in it, I call family. You done a good job raising me, folks! Maybe I'm just feeling the pride on this good ol' Fourth of July or maybe I just have a perpetual case of the Croydon Crazies.