Letters From Conneaut
It all kept running through my head…
A seven-hour field trip… The thought of it was making me miserable. I was
sitting in my Psychology class with a purse packed full of water and granola
bars to make sure that I was sustained throughout the day. I don’t know what I
expected, but it wasn’t good. The weather was cold and windy and, of course, it
started raining right when we were going to leave too. I wasn’t ready to handle
this and I had been dreading it all week. Luckily, it was one of the best times
for me in college.
I walked to the vans where we were
all supposed to meet the class. I dragged my feet from Carnegie (my Psych
class) to the library. It was misting this awful cold, icy rain. Nothing could
have made a seven-hour field trip, that we spent the majority of the time
outside, seem any worse. Plus, I hadn’t really begun to talk to anyone in class
yet. I didn’t know how I was going to find it in me to chat with people
mindlessly when I was so angry about even going. I brought my headphones just
in case. It wasn’t supposed to be a very long ride, but nonetheless, it would
probably feel like an hour. When I had finally arrived at the library, there
were already some students waiting to get into the vans. Oh yes, I was so
excited for smelly school vans! (Sarcasm intended). But when I arrived, I
realized that we all shared something, hatred towards going on this field trip.
I started talking to the few people waiting. We whined away. Whining can
sometimes be one of the best forms of friendship building. We were all huddled around each other under
one of the student’s umbrellas. We all realized that this was going to be a
long day.
We had been on the rode for about a
half an hour when we arrived at Conneaut Lake. The entire time we drove we
chatted about silly little things to make small talk and joked around. I believe we even took a couple of selfies
just to show how much “fun” we were having. When we came to the beach to have
lunch, it was freezing and the wind was blowing. Even the idea of the pizza we
were going to eat wasn’t warming my soul.
We walked to the picnic tables and sat down. One girl who sat next to me
and eventually turned to me asked if I was the girl who liked anime. Little did
I know that this was the start of one of my most important friendships I ever
made… Her and I bonded and freaked out over having the same interests. We found
out we had so much in common. We became friends so fast we didn’t even know
what hit us. This girls name was Julianne. Julianne and I talked about how we
weren’t sure what was actually going on in this class. We weren’t sure how the
idea of place and space played into Conneaut Lake. We were determined to understand.
After dancing
around with pizza, precariously feeding seagulls some, and trying to speak with
them, we walked to the Historical Society. We had quite a bit of fun in there
and to be honest I think it was because it was heated and there was a nice man
named George there that warmed our cold hearts. It was amazing to see all these
nick-knacks and items that people had donated. Julianne and I walked around
together and admired the works. I also started talking more to a couple of
other people, Cecily and Kirsten. All three of us wandered around and chatted
with each other. They also had mentioned how they didn’t understand what we
were supposed to be doing in this class. While we were walking and listening to
stories George told us we had our first epiphany. These people cared so much
about this town and wanted others to know how important all the different
aspects of it were, whether it was history or the people. This was a place to
them obviously. But this was a place to them obviously. We got that. But we
didn’t see why it was a place. It all seemed so futile.
By the time that we made it to
Conneaut Lake Park we were frozen to the core. It looked like a ghost town from
the outside. Why were here? What did any of this run down place have to do with
place and space. What stories could possibly be here that would be all that
amazing. We got out of the vans unwillingly and grouped around a man who knew
all about the park. Cecily, Julianne, and Kirsten and I all huddled together in
a ball to keep warm. We chatted and giggled and took notes together while
trying to make sure our fingers stayed attached. The man talked about how this
place was going down the drain. It was really sad. I felt like whatever stories
were once there were going to be destroyed. Maybe it was good we were getting
there when we did. Now I realized we would’ve missed it, if we hadn’t gone that
day.
When we finally walked into Conneaut Lake Park I
realized something. This place begged to recorded. It wasn’t like anything that
I have ever seen before. It looked like the setting of a horror movie. What
could there possibly be to do here other then have the chance to possessed by
some unfriendly spirit? But, there was a certain beauty in its state. It was
beautiful because it once lived. It once
thrived. Families created memories here in this place. I wanted experience this
in all it’s glory. So, I brought out my camera and began really imagining.
I walked up the main parkway
surrounded on both sides by boarded up building that I’m sure was once
concessions and games. The concrete was cracked and pieced. Walking on it was
slightly like an obstacle course, keeping the camera straight was slightly
difficult. I was wandering with my newfound friend Cecily, who was doing some
photography. We walked together capturing moments. A couple of other students
were curious as to what Cecily and I were doing and what we were getting shots
of. Soon enough students wanted to be in pictures and wanted to be part of the
video. Conneaut Lake Park was paused in time. The rides were old and worn down
and only a couple of them were able to work. This park may have been paused in
time, but we definitely were not. Even though families and lovers weren’t
playing on rides or kissing on coasters anymore, our class was still creating
their own memories. We were creating our own community. And now I had the
chance to record it and make a video out of it.
In one of the articles we read in
class called Defining Place by Tim Cresswell, he said something that stuck out
to me. “These are the haunting of past inhibitions. This anonymous space has a
history – it means something to other people. Now what do you do? A common
strategy is to make this space say something about you. You add your own
possessions, rearrange the furniture within the limits of the space, put your
own posters on the wall, and arrange a few books purposefully on the desk. Thus
space is turned into place. Your place” (Cresswell). This made so much sense to
me now, more than I could’ve ever expected. Conneaut Lake Park seems abandoned,
but just because its closed doesn’t mean that it can’t still create memories.
They aren’t the same memories that used to be created like flying around on
rollercoasters or finding your true love and eating cotton candy. They are
brand new, something unique. With my camera, I captured and created brand new
memories. This place’s memories gave way to a new generation. It was no longer
a space to me. It became a place. And it became a place because of our class.
It was a
brilliant idea to start this recording. It was really what brought us all
together at the park. We learned what the meaning of this class was about. This
park was a place to a lot of people and all for different reasons. This park
held stories that I couldn’t even imagine on my own. Like Cresswell said, we as
people fill the area with items and stories that make it our own. That’s what
people of the past did. That’s what our class did. That’s what this town has
been doing. They brought cameras to take photos. The organized the town around
it to invite more visitors. The town has been working hard and putting in
effort to allow it to continue to be a place. Even though the park has gone to
the sheriff’s sale and has registered for bankruptcy, I really hope it can
continue to be a place for others. I know it will be a place for our class.
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