As I entered my first week as a reporter for The Mount Airy News, I began to think about how surprised my younger self would be to see the road life has taken me down — a road back to my roots.

I, like other children I suppose, spent many of my childhood days dreaming about my future self, where I would end up, what my career would be. At the tender age of 10 I was certain that I would become a writer, yet I never really thought about what roads I would take to get there.

Through high school I kept alive my love of writing and my dream to be a novelist, but reality set in along with the college applications. I decided the best way to pursue literature would be to become a high school English teacher who spent her spare time writing the next great American novel. It wasn’t until my sophomore year in college when I was invited to write a column for the student newspaper that I found a different path. I realized that journalism might be the best way to pursue my writing dream.

Now I’m a writer, but not in the fashion I imagined, and certainly not in the location I had pictured as a little girl. Back then I just knew that I would move somewhere exotic. Maybe a castle in Ireland, a cabin in the Colorado Rockies, or an apartment in downtown New York City. As I grew older, though, North Carolina with all of its charms began to work its magic on me. Now I’m content, excited even, to be stationed in Mount Airy, the home of my kinfolk.

I’m a native of Stokes County, but my roots go back to Surry. My mother told me this week that her family, the Brays, were originally from Rockford in southern Surry County. My great-great-great-great-grandfather was Henry C. Bray, the justice of the peace and a blacksmith by trade. A family historian even wrote a book about this ancestral line called “The Brays of Fisher River.” So now every time I drive down Rockford Street in Mount Airy, I will be reminded of my heritage.

My father’s side offers me actual memories of Mount Airy, of Thanksgiving days I spent at my great-grandparents’ house in the community of Toast. My memories of my great-grandfather, Keallie Evans, are very vague since he died when I was young. I do remember the small hardware store he ran next door to his home. And I can’t help but recall the wonderful cooking of my great-grandmother, Gertie. I’m convinced that no one else can make turkey as tasty as hers was. Now great-grandmother lives in Winston-Salem in an assisted living and I no longer spend holiday afternoons playing in her yard with my cousins. I have, however, eaten several relatives’ attempts to duplicate her turkey, all of which have fallen far short of the prize.

So now I will be driving down Surry County roads each week as I rush to get the latest scoop for my writing. I expect to one day happen upon my great-grandparents’ old house. That little girl in her great-grandmother’s yard is long gone, and she never would have guessed where she’d end up. But that’s the great thing about dreams. You never know what roads they’ll lead you down. Sometimes they take you back.

Meghann Evans is a staff reporter with The Mount Airy News. She can be reached at mevans@mtairynews.com or at 719-1952.