BIOGRAPHY

GROWING UP IN TRUCKEE

Truckee is a unique community, especially when compared to Reno. It's the first place I've lived where the normal conveniences of the city are removed from the neighborhoods. In Reno, I expected that homes and apartments surrounded the downtown strip and then other neighborhoods still had resources like gas stations, grocery stores, schools, and sidewalks. In Truckee, we have a vibrant downtown with a small community around it, but our main neighborhoods spread out like tentacles on an octopus. Some have a convenience store, or restaurant, or school, but we typically have to drive into town to get gas, groceries, or visit a restaurant. When we moved here, parts of Truckee still had modern conveniences – restaurants, retail stores, fast food, and even a movie theater. As the years have passed, we’ve seen many of these conveniences change ownership, close their doors, or disappear completely. The town and community have adapted to these changes, but the character of Truckee is quickly disappearing with it.

As a kid, I had an idyllic life here. I fondly remember having pinecone wars with my younger brother, riding bikes around the neighborhood, building forts in the meadows, swimming, hiking, skiing, or relaxing by the river. In Reno, we had to check in every hour and could never leave the safety of the neighborhood. In Truckee, we could be gone all day and explore every edge of Glenshire. In the winter, we often opted out of skiing and instead chose sledding, snowball fights, or simply playing in the snow. Imagination was the pastime in our neighborhood.

As the older brother, I spent a good deal of my time shoveling snow, stacking wood, supervising my brother, and trying to keep the home chores in order while my mom commuted between Truckee & Reno for work. I learned a lot of lessons in Truckee, like shoveling out a nook in the berm on trash day so you aren’t chasing your trash cans down the street after the plow. I learned that I had to shovel out the mailbox or we wouldn’t get mail and then the plow would demolish it. I learned how to start fires and keep coals going throughout the day to heat the house. I learned why we stack and cover the wood, or leave the pipes dripping when the temperatures dip below 0, and why we always keep flashlights with fresh batteries. I learned to stay prepared for the worst, and hope for the best and how to appreciate books and headlamps for entertainment when the power was out for weeks. For a city kid who never had to survive, those first few years in Truckee helped me earn my stripes. We definitely struggled, but if it weren’t for the kindness of our neighbors, who helped guide us through these new challenges, we probably would have left after a few years. It was a sad day in 2003 when we saw the moving truck in their driveway, but that continues to be unfortunate footnote in the residential story of Truckee.

As a newcomer in Truckee, I spent the first few years going to a different school. Because I wasn’t attending school in Truckee, I didn’t know anyone in the neighborhood, save for the random kids I’d encounter when I was out making my own fun. In 8th grade, I transferred into Sierra Mountain Middle School and that’s when I started to fully understand the community that is Truckee. I grasped for any way to have friends, and thankfully, that wasn’t too hard here. As I grew into a teen, I played a year of Babe Ruth baseball with a lot of the kids in the neighborhood. We traveled all around the area for games: Loyalton, Graeagle, Tahoe Visa, Incline Village. I was never very good, but I had fun and I loved the comradery of just hanging out with a group of guys. At Truckee High, it was easy to fit in. In a typical high school, you might be resigned to a clique – in Truckee, everyone was friends with everyone. We didn’t allow labels to define us and welcomed everyone who joined our town, especially newcomers. It’s that sense of community that I’m trying to preserve. In Freshman year, I decided I wasn’t good enough to play baseball anymore and decided to umpire, as my dad did when I was a lot younger. I got in with Little League and umpired every spring until I graduated. I loved umpiring – it gave me a chance to work with kids in a positive manner, and as an older brother, gave me a chance to bond with my younger brother on a different level. I wasn’t in any clubs or other sports, save for a short-lived attempt to play football, and at 16, after just four years of living in Truckee, I was ready to move on. In winter/spring of Junior year, I bagged groceries at Safeway until I grew bored and quit.

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As a teen with an abundance of opportunities and support, I also fell into some drug and alcohol use. Despite the encouragement from my mom to guide my academic future and keep me occupied during school with extracurriculars and jobs, I grew anxious and apathetic about life after Truckee. I began smoking tobacco and partying on the weekends. My grades, which were decent through Sophomore year, began to tank and my anxiety about college just created more frustration and apathy. I didn’t have the grades to get a scholarship, and I knew we didn’t have the money to send me away to school, even if I knew what I wanted to do. I felt stuck, and I started to adopt an antisocial personality. I didn’t care about school, or my future, or myself, and found myself with numerous interactions with Truckee Police, usually related to smoking cigarettes on or around school property. Mid-way through my Junior year, Truckee High discovered that some credits I earned prior to attending SMMS would translate for my diploma and they fast-tracked me to graduate in 2003 instead of 2004.

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Immediately following graduation, I struggled with severe alcoholism, drug addiction and apathy. I didn’t know what to do with my life and I spent a large chunk self-medicating to avoid it. I burned a lot of bridges and was constantly hating the person staring back at me in the mirror. When I was 21, a friend passed away suddenly in a car accident. After 4 years of significant, life-altering events related to drugs and alcohol, I entered sobriety. It is a path I’ve walked ever since. I did not like the person I was and knew the only way to fix it was to change myself. Through all of it, my community was there – and despite the challenges and the self-loathing, I consider myself very fortunate that I was able to have such amazing and compassionate people around me that offered support and guidance into a better life.

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Despite the challenges of 17-21, there are moments in that time which I reflect fondly. I did not hold jobs consistently during those years, but when I was working, I worked hard. After graduating, I spent six months with family in Maryland as a gaffer. They were freelance videographers who worked mostly for ABC. We traveled up and down the seaboard on a variety of projects, and I spent some time working with the crews on “Extreme Makeover” and “ABC World News Tonight”. The following winter, I worked at the Truckee Subway sandwich shop and hitchhiked to work every day from Glenshire. Scheduling Dial-A-Ride was inconsistent and challenging, and the Town had not yet widened the bike lanes on Glenshire Drive or completed the Legacy Trail. Walking to Truckee was deadly, so hitchhiking was the only real option. Drivers were mostly kind and I always asked to be dropped off at the train station. I made the mistake one day of walking West River Street where I was run off the shoulder by a car and then almost squeezed against the wall of the mouse-hole by an incoming semi-truck. After that, I always walked the train tracks to work because I always knew when a train was coming. Then, I’d work my “lunch to close” shift, lock up the store, and walk home. Leaving work, I wanted to get home as quickly as possible. Walking the train tracks was sketchy because of the jungles on McIver Hill (before the college was built). West River Street had no sidewalks or street lights, so I walked along Donner Pass Road, even though it felt farther. Then, I’d post up at Glenshire Drive for about an hour trying to catch a ride. Sometimes I’d get lucky, but most of the time, I’d just end up walking back to Glenshire. Those were desolate nights where I contemplated the future, as snowflakes sizzled on my cigarette and the soundtrack of Metallica defined each step. I’d get home, exhausted, and fall into bed with a thud. Then, I’d wake up the next day and do it again. Those nights remind me to persevere when times are tough because I’ve proven I am capable to handle any challenge set before me.