I was recently back in St. Louis (Wee One and I did a few weekends of fair in mid-Missouri) and one afternoon, we went out with my (step) grandmother. This meant driving around a part of town I was in a lot as a kid, and a bit in high school, so of course it sparked nostalgia. But none so much as the mall: Crestwood mall.
When I was a tween/teenager (early 90’s) and wanted to go to the mall, Crestwood was the one to go to for people like me. It was still a good size and had cool shops, but it was more humble, if you will. Chesterfield was the rich mall, Frontenac was the super-rich mall, and West County was run down and lame.
But Crestwood had a movie theater, three music shops, two good book stores, a Spencers, and of course, the food court. My friends and I would go in gangs and walk around, picking things up and gossiping. When I was 15, my then-best friend Tonya was going out with a boy you readers now know as my husband Cobiba. She wanted to break up with him, but she wanted me to do it, and he and I went off and walked alone together.
I remember being so nervous, having never broken up with anyone before. Not even for myself. I think I was swinging my arms nervously. Fortunately, he knew what was up. “Tonya wants to break up with me, doesn’t she?”
That bit of business out of the way, we kept walking and laughing. He jokes that I’e broken up with him more times that I’ve said I’d be with him.
Crestwood had been declining for the past decade and, when I drove by it a few weeks ago, had recently been demolished. I thought about all the moments that building contained. All the life. But that’s true of all things and all places, eh? That’s change.
And speaking of change, stay tuned for my next post about – wait for it – change. 🙂