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March 18, 2014 7:13 am

INTERN'S INSIGHT: Proper introductions to Powell’s past

Written by Carly Jo Klein

I believe in reading and writing. I believe in ink and paper. I believe in the power of words and the power of news.

I, Carly Jo Klein, have been working on the Looking Back column for the Powell Tribune as a part of my work experience class. Coming to the Tribune is a definite relief from sappy couples, frantic freshman and slow hallway pedestrians.

Personally, I have enjoyed being at the paper. As tedious as delving through the archives was, I am learning about Powell as I explore 1964, 1989 and 2004, since the paper is featuring news from 50, 25 and 10 years ago in this new column about old news.

Looking through 1964, I had serious trouble finding intriguing news. The pages were mainly composed of snippets about people’s personal lives. However, I loved looking at advertisements. Everything cost so much less — cars, food, appliances.

After 1964, I looked into 1989, a relatively quiet year. The sports teams were fairly successful, including swimming state championships.

Then, I looked at 2004.

In those archives, I found some of the most adorable pictures of my classmates. My fellow seniors, just wee little second graders then, gave me plenty to laugh about while at the Tribune. Also in March and April 2004, I saw how my new home was, but would never be again.

I moved to Powell, from Casper, in the summer of 2004. I remember taking the tour of the house which was small and smelled old. The yellow, hexagonal tile was a violation of my vision, and all the toilets were green.

I looked about thinking that this was a major downgrade. And when I saw the bedrooms, it only confirmed the belief. There were only two kid bedrooms, which only meant that I would share with my older brother. I love Ethan, but there was not enough space for Barbies and LEGOs.

On the first day of third grade, I was pranked by two classmates. It wasn’t even fair; I was at school for less than a day!

I missed Casper, my best friends, or just the idea of having friends. For the first two weeks, I spent recess on the swings and didn’t talk to anybody. Two girls took me under their wing, and after that, I finally had friends. Three years of elementary school flew by without injury.

In middle school, I was awkward, and my body was disproportioned. At that point, I wanted to just fit in with everybody. By eighth grade, I finally bought a pair of DC skater shoes and skinny jeans to be like everybody else. Those articles didn’t compensate for the braces, glasses and new zits.

Now, I am in high school, a rather depressing place. I wish I could say more positive things about staying in classrooms for seven hours, but there are very few things that brighten up the place.

One thing that I am thankful for is the small classes. My AP Biology has 10 people, and French II last year had six. I love the close-knit atmosphere, a luxury that wouldn’t be too frequent at Natrona County High School.

Casper has its bonuses, like a wider variety of restaurants and shopping opportunities. Powell looks small because it is. Everything in Powell looked smaller— my house, room, property, life, future— and as I grew older, I felt like a shook-up Diet Coke packed with Mentos.

Along with my fellow seniors, I am itching to leave for college and see something else besides Heart Mountain. I will come back when the bigness of the world becomes overwhelming.

As I have looked back, I realized that even though Powell is small, things happen: Powell becomes an official city in 1964; PHS students head to New Zealand to play football in 1989; plans develop for the new high school in 2004.

These events don’t spontaneously combust, but occur out of personal efforts.

My peers can’t complain that nothing happens in Powell and neither can I. Thrills in Powell must be catalyzed by someone like me.

Right now, I am happy with small because in the end, it is the little things that I love: The love of a pen to paper and the love of eyes flitting from the boy across the room and back to a novel.

I sit as an outsider, still awkward and disproportioned, but now I know that it is OK.

(Carly Jo Klein is a Powell High School senior.)

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