Terry Dean Walter
April 6, 2015
I’m from Southern Illinois; you’re probably thinking Chicago since I mentioned Illinois, but little do people realize there are other cities. I’m from Johnston City, Illinois whish is forty minutes from Saint Louis, which is split between Missouri and Illinois. This is one of my favorite places in the states because Saint Louis is a vivacious and mysterious city. The greatest mystery of all is the Saint Louis Arch because no matter how big my problems are, once reaching the top, they seem so minuscule and meaningless.
It was the first day of summer when I arrived at the Saint Louis Arch it seemed surreal; I had not been home for six months due to my military basic and technical training. I was worried I had changed extremely since the last time that I was home. Anxiety took over my body because I was no longer going to live in the state I had grown up in. I knew it was going to be different. I approached the Arch and in that moment, the grass swayed in the wind elegantly, dancing like elegant pixies. I looked up at he sun as the heat poured over me, stinging my skin into a pink lustrous color. It was a decent day with a light breeze, the smell of freshly cut grass and a tad bit of humidity. We walked up the path from the parking garage trying to not be blinded by the light reflected off the Arch’s highly reflective metal skin. We walked through the grass approaching the concrete in which the Arch sits comfortably. The concrete was uneven beneath my feet as I moved down into the unknown. I as made my way down the steps the air that surrounded me became cold and damp as I reach the shadows.
My eyes met the ticket booth that seemed to be covered in the curls mounted upon a young girl behind the counter. Her curls amplified her crooked smile, but instead of being wary I felt myself smiling back as I paid for my parents’ and my tickets. I took the...