By Jack Houvouras
HQ 37 | WINTER 2000
Ten years. There are a lot of memories that accompany that time span some good, some bad, some worth saving for my grandchildren. I was 24 when I started the Huntington Quarterly. The first issue featured some amateurish layouts, not much color and an in-house ad promoting our premier party that promised “Free Beer!” Today we’re all a little older and wiser. The magazine proudly showcases excellent photography, writing and design, offers full color throughout and for our 10 Year Anniversary, we are planning a “complimentary champagne reception.” All in all it has been a good run.
But while much has changed over the years at the magazine, one thing has remained constant ‹ a question. Well-wishers and skeptics alike always seem to pose the same query: “Why do you still live in Huntington?”
At first, the answer seemed easy. I would often explain to the curious that I loved this area. In addition, I surmised that Huntington needed a positive voice and I needed a job. “Necessity is the mother of invention,” my father often told me. As a journalism major who needed employment, my options were limited when the local paper turned me down for a job. So, I brainstormed one night and by morning had formulated a prospectus for a new city magazine. It was as simple as that.
But that explanation never seems to satisfy. “Yes, but why do you still live in Huntington,” they insist, implying that I would be better served living in New York, Chicago, Atlanta or any other large metropolitan area.
I answer by saying that 10 years after starting the magazine I still love the area. I also enjoy the luxury of being my own boss which has been one of the most rewarding aspects in my life. That’s part of the answer. But the answer I seldom share with people, because it is so hard to verbalize in conversation, is Thoreau. Writer Henry David Thoreau, that is. It was Thoreau and his masterpiece Walden that inspired me to try writing. And it was Thoreau’s philosophies that have guided much of my life. “Simplify, simplify,” he wrote in Walden. “Let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand.” His writings also spoke to the solace of nature, the wisdom that is derived from solitude and the freedom gained by taking the road less traveled. For me, God is more easily found in the hills of Huntington than in all of New York City. Solitude is more easily acquired among the trees of Ritter Park than the concrete towers of Chicago. And I most assuredly walk a road less traveled in downtown Huntington as compared to the rush hour madness of urban America.
For all the advantages offered by a gathering place of a million people or more, I choose Huntington. I enjoy Broadway, but relish an afternoon of picking blackberries fresh off the vine with my nephew and niece. I appreciate the architectural brilliance of New York’s downtown, but stand in awe of the Appalachian Mountains. Huntington, West Virginia is my home and I marvel at all its simple virtues.
After 10 years of publishing, the Huntington Quarterly staff remains committed to telling the story of this unique community. To that end, we have redesigned the magazine and introduced a new editorial format. We hope the changes make the product even better. From all of us at HQ, thank you for a decade of support.
