This is a continuation of my series “Location History” about places I’ve been and the people who made them interesting. This one is special because it’s based on a prompt from my dear friend over at - who is the inspiration for my creating this Substack. I’m building this thing as I go and we’ll see what it will turn into. Stick with me, folks. “You've got to jump off cliffs and build your wings on the way down.” - Ray Bradbury.
"Now you take Sarah’s part,” Emily said, directing me to sing Sarah Maclachlan's solo in the Lilith Fair version of ”Water is Wide.” She’d taken the Jewel solo and we'd pulled in our sisters, Tina and Bev to sing the Indigo Girls' melody. We were recording the 3 part harmony on the tape deck. In reality, it was just for fun, killing time. But at that moment, it was serious work, an important project. “No, no, no, stop. You came in too soon - start over.” We were deep in concentration sitting on the carpet by her bed and Em was orchestrating the harmonies per usual. We would do this for hours. The two of us often sang together in car rides or in the choir where we met, but we loved to practice a song until it was perfect and then hit record. If there were more than two voices for a song we liked, we'd pull in the sibs. It was an outlet for all of us in our conservative households, leaning into new “alternative music” checking out Counting Crows, Live and Sarah MacLachlan. It brought us joy.
My sisters and I would often sneak to listen to the devil’s music on the radio (shoutout KHFI and early 101x) but outside of that and our older brother, Em was a big music influence on us. Coming from an evangelical Christian household and then moving into an even more fundamentalist version of that was suffocating, especially for a theater kid who just wanted to perform. I’d been back and forth from private to public school and in dance and show choir and when you’re exposed to hip-hop and that is the spirit that moves you, well, that’s confusing. Now in middle school being homeschooled, I was fairly isolated so any new secular music was refreshing. Emily brought that in spades.
The night we met felt like kismet. It was at a city choir: CYCSA (Christian Youth Choral Society of Austin). We held hands and jumped up and down. It was around that same time that my family converted to Eastern Orthodoxy. "You're homeschooled?!" "Me too!" "You're Orthodox?” The squealing. I invited her to my 12th birthday party and we were inseparable from then on. Emily was the only person I have ever known outside of my immediate family who could match my volume. She loved to sing just as much as I did. She loved writing. And reading! We were equally obsessed with Anne of Green Gables! (Oh, the youthful excitement of similarities!)
Em was a polymath, a perfectionist and, what seemed to me, downright rebellious. She played piano, sang in the choir, and when I met her (she was 15 and I was 12), she’d already had a job working at a vet clinic. She had an imagination like no other and we started trading stories back and forth. She would write a sentence, then I would write a sentence to add to the story, and so on. I was impressed with her ability to focus on things so intently: She could herd cats - directing us all into completing creative projects. And she seemed to have an endless desire to learn things. More music! More instruments! More information! My immediate memories are that she collected Breyer horse models, loved animals more than people, wanted to travel the world and get away. She had a beautiful imagination and intellect. She loved her family deeply and had so much respect for her mother. I was inspired by her and looked up to her. I say she was rebellious, because she never just took an answer at face value - she needed data to back things up, and for our conservative religion this was not completely acceptable and she was often met with resistance in relationships, church, and work. I loved her for this. She had a strong-will. And a strong-temper. In this way, we differed. I did not feel strong.
Meeting her family and my parents divorcing was around the same time. It was then that my parents started dropping my sisters and me off at their home for days on end. Early on, we didn't mind because we loved visiting with our friends. But after a while, things at home got worse. My parents started dropping us off more often. The days would turn into what felt like weeks. Em’s family became our surrogate family: her parents–our parents, her brothers and sister–our siblings. They didn’t make us feel like a burden, but I was keenly aware of the situation and ashamed. I tried to make myself small and to be good. It was embarrassing to always be…there. I didn’t want to be “those people” to my friend who I cherished but at times I felt like it must have been frustrating to have us around all the time. I’m forever grateful to them and I’ll always remember being with her as a time to create worlds and get away from my own at home.
I know almost nothing about the town of Leander. I know it’s about half an hour north of Austin, where we would commute to and fro to the shopping center where our small Orthodox church was and where we all went to the same choir for a while. To me, Leander is where I sang songs and wrote stories with Em. It’s where I tried not to die of dysentery playing Oregon Trail upstairs on her family computer. It’s where we once tried to chase a tornado in the car on the way home from church. It’s where we would watch Boondock Saints and Velvet Goldmine on repeat. (I read that it's called experiential control and helps with emotional regulation.) After the divorce, we stayed over a bit less. The boys were less interested in all the singing, but they would hang with us in the TV room, or jump outside on the trampoline with us. We spent a lot of time outside: There was an aviary on their property, where they cared for some exotic birds, which was pretty darn cool.
And then the worst thing in the entire world happened. Emily WENT AWAY TO COLLEGE. My best friend was leaving me and I would be stuck out in the country with no one else who really understood me. When we said goodbye, I was sad, but when I went home that night, the floodgates opened and I cried myself to sleep. She may have been 3 years older than me, but our hearts were stitched together. At least, that is what it felt like to me. And mine was being ripped apart. She didn’t care or she wouldn’t be leaving me. (I tend to make things about myself. Also, I was a dramatic, angsty 15-yr-old. We felt so much then, didn’t we? Such a vulnerable time to be working out who we are…)
After she left for college, we stayed in touch for a little while through letters, but we didn’t do the best job of it. Emily communicated through the art of mix CDs that helped me stay on top of the best Indie Music of the late 90s/early ‘00s. We would move in together much later when I would leave New York State to come back home to Austin, and we would all become roommates with my now husband. There is so much to say about that part of our lives that is beautiful and I LOVE EMILY SO GODDAMN MUCH, but perhaps that is for another post. Our friendship has ebbed and flowed over the years in our proximity to each other, but we’ve always been close in spirit.
I don't know what happened to the recordings, or those early stories we created in Em’s bedroom in Leander, but I'd like to think they are out there somewhere, with our angelic adolescent harmonies and spellbinding young adult worlds. We’ve come back together again, meeting bi-weekly over Zoom, to encourage each other with our writing and I'm so excited to start this new adventure with
.[Edit: Divorce is not pleasant, and my mother has had a serious chronic illness all of my life. There was no close family that was swooping into help with any of this, so we had family friends that helped. My intent is not to make my mother out to be a monster, far from it. I have plenty of stories of how she is a caring individual and I do not believe that my writing here shows anything to the contrary. It only shares my own experience which may include some of the unfortunate effects that both divorce and chronic illness have on young children.]
What did you think about Leander?
Feel free to leave a comment if the spirit moves you… some things I’m interested in hearing about from other Substackers:
How has writing or other creative endeavors saved you? Writing has been a saving grace throughout my entire life. I’d love to hear examples from you.
Did you have any surrogate family members? I encourage you to write about it.
Do you have a lifelong friendship or a childhood friendship that left an impression on you? Tell me about it.
Please hit “like” to let me know you read this, it will make my heart jump to know you enjoyed reading it and encourage me to keep writing.
I’m sure my emotional reaction to this snippet of your life is going to be different than most others because we are family. I really enjoyed this story. Thanks for sharing. David Burman
So lovely.
My best friend Brandie and I met in Kindergarten class and have remained close knit throughout our lives. She moved from our hometown of Round Rock at the end of our 6th grade year and it was THE WORST NEWS EVER. We pinky promised we would go to college together and actually did, for one year 🤣
Her Dad was my surrogate Dad. I remember one time I didn’t call my mom from a friends house when I was in 6th grade & had spent the night. She freaked out and showed up at my friends houses pissed the next morning. She told me in the car I was grounded and I went to my room really upset when we got home. About an hour later my mom came into my room and said I had a phone call. It was Brandie’s Dad telling me he was going to pick me up and take me to his house. That he knows I learned my lesson and needed to give my Mom a little break.
When I was in 6th grade, I was in a pageant and you had to have your Dad escort you for the formal wear. He walked me.
When I made the varsity softball team as a sophomore, which had never been done before, he sent me a hand written card telling me how proud he was of me.