The Meaning of "A Century in the Central Valley"

Whoops, it is quite obvious that I've blown my daily goal right out of the gate. But all great religions teach that it is never too late to start anew. So here I go.

"A Century in the Central Valley" is a specific reference to when my great grandfather first arrived in Fresno. The whole family moved here in 1915, but I suspect he did a scouting mission before this. Cornelius’s son, Paul (my grandfather) was not born in Fresno, but Paul's son, William (my father) was. I was born in Berkeley before my parents moved back to Fresno when I was toddler.

Cornelius Richert moved around before settling in Fresno. He ministered to congregations of German immigrants and their children and taught the classics and languages. The family lived in Nebraska, Minnesota, and Connecticut before settling in Fresno. Cornelius continued to travel after making his home in Fresno.

He was not the first Richert in the valley. There is a branch of Mennonite Richerts that settled in the Reedley area. There is a common great, great, great, great or great, great, great, great, great – grandfather which makes us some numbered cousins somehow removed. Not being a common name, we've often been asked if we are related. Rather than attempt to explain the distant connection, we would just say no, they're the Reedley Richerts and we're the Fresno Richerts.

Both my grandfather and father graduated from Fresno High, left Fresno to attend and graduate Cal and then returned to Fresno to start their own professions and families. I did the complete opposite by graduating from Las Lomas in Walnut Creek and eventually getting a degree from Fresno State. Though I stayed in Fresno, I started neither a career nor family. Some focus too much on one at the expense of the other; I failed to focus at all.

The three of us did try to escape Fresno at one time in our adult life. My grandfather and I both spent some time in Sacramento after college. He graduated and got a job with the state while I left Fresno and paid the bills by working the line at a T. Applechiligan's. In between one pair of marriages, my dad set up a branch of his law firm in San Luis Obispo but eventually returned to Fresno as well. In the end, all of us stayed in Fresno, less like swallows from Capistrano and more like matter failing to escape a black hole.

There are actually four generation of Richerts buried out in the Mountain View Cemetery in Fresno, which is impressive for this modern age when there is so much generational movement from childhood hometowns. I plan on staying here in Fresno to make the century mark for our branch of the family official. While the Reedley Richerts may still have a presence in the Valley, I am the last Richert of our branch still here. The others have successfully escaped the gravitational pull of Fresno.

So, when I make prissy, witty, sarcastic, biting, critical comments about Fresno, know that they aren't meant to be mean, but more as self-criticism. Fresno is my past, present, and future. Fresno is my home.