Returning to My Roots
Hello, and welcome to LisaMacaione.com! Thank you for reading my first blog post. When I thought about starting a website, I knew I wanted to have a place to gather my creative endeavors and express my thoughts using my favorite artistic medium, writing. Forever my social media bio has stated: “Writer, writing workshop facilitator, bibliophile, Cubs fan, art lover, traveler, foodie, gardener, wife, mother, stops-and-smells-the-roses-er.” And that’s all true, but also, community deserves a mention in there, because what happens at home is so important to the people who live there, and my family’s hometown of St. Charles, Illinois, is at the center of it all for us. I was raised here, my husband Anthony and I met in high school here, and now we are raising our two daughters here and couldn’t be more grateful for it.
Last night I got the special opportunity to attend an event with my friend Mary (of I’m So Glad You Asked podcast) for the St. Charles History Museum. It was held at the 1928 Spanish/Morrocan-style gem of our hometown, the historic Hotel Baker on the banks of the Fox River. I’ve had a longtime love for this building, as it embodies some of my other loves such as architecture and history. In fact, I even insisted to my friends’ group that we dine there for prom dinner, many moons ago. Another time, in my early twenties, a dear friend of mine, Laura, and I went into the Hotel Baker on a whim and peered into the famous Rainbow Room where we discovered a wedding taking place. The mother-of-the-bride, overcome with joy from the happy occasion (and probably some wine!), invited us to join the festivities and have some cake. We thought that was the coolest thing!
So last night, as we dined and toured the beautiful grounds, I was reminded of who I was then and who I still am, after years of education, relocation, and maturation (somewhat). Back then, I was a writer, too, penning poems on napkins at the long-gone Baker’s Square where my friends and I worked and hung out. That’s still Lisa, with a lust for life, who thinks so many things are cool. Lisa who literally stops and smells the roses. So that’s what I will do here, write about what matters to me, and I hope it resonates with you and maybe even gets you thinking about what matters to you, and how you can and do incorporate that into your world. Let’s go!
I’ll end this with a poem I wrote a few years back, which originally appeared in the Kane County Chronicle, about this town and what it means to me. Hope you enjoy!
Ode to St. Charles, Illinois:
On the Occasion of the City’s 185th Anniversary and 30 Years as My Hometown
by Lisa L. Macaione
I.
West of Chicago forty miles was claimed
(though Pottawatomie reigned long before)
by Shelby and kin Franklin, giving name
to Charleston circa 1834.
In 1989, my family moved
to put down roots near where creek waters flow
into the river Fox, which travels through
the core of St. Charles where I’d live and grow.
My mother took me into town to learn
about the past through structures standing still.
This city’s story told at every turn,
the Pride of the Fox born in what people built:
II.
Historic Beith House, formed of riverstone
perhaps conceals within a mystery
deep in the basement, masonry unknown–
a path to an escape from slavery?
The Twenties roared, construction likewise boomed;
from Colonel’s oil-soaked cash and Norris land
the Hotel Baker lights the Rainbow Room
while Spanish-style Arcada brings the bands.
An Art Moderne lighthouse of marble white,
the city building’s tower rises high
above the banks, and as day turns to night
dispatches color on dark waves and sky.
III.
These landmarks note where heritage convenes–
on Main, the numbered streets and avenues,
the river always rushing in between
reminding us time is ever renewed.
I left this town with no plans to look back –
Took flight, rode trains, traveled across the earth,
but though I found adventure, something lacked.
Departing taught me what this place is worth.
And now I have a family of my own,
a roof, four walls to raise our children in.
St. Charles, you’re where our hearts have made their home;
three generations’ story dwells within.