What do you remember about the village where you were born?

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The village I was born in was ebbing into the shadow of the hamlet it is now. The main industry in the town was leaving, people were moving away, We who remained behind, struggled to maintain the moral and ethical standards set in a more properous time. It was a bitter seige but the villagers had pride. My family had been in the town for three generations. We owned a huge house the river and my dear father had a secure job working for one of the remaining overlords, we had food, and drink, much drink and the house was filled with laughter and flying objects at times. Music rang against the darkness and lights flickered in the windows. Life was good. We skiled, and sledded and would iceskate on the local ponds. the lakes and rivers teemed with fish and the forest were full of game.
We had a robust life, not for the fanciful, or frail but if you could best it it was was grand. People still dreamed and worked hard.
Alas, all this is gone, dreams and plans are ashes, and embittered surviours sit huddled around the local bar and wonder about where the good old days went.

i was born in kentucky the winter of 1809 in a log cabin during a snowstorm ....no wait that was abraham lincoln

i miss it..

Pretty sure it's a crack town nooww

Nothing. We moved shortly after I was born, and again when I was three. I remember THAT town, fairly well, though.

ROFL!
I was born in a tiny village called Los Angeles. I mainly remember millions of loud and vexatious carriages. Tomorrow is the festival of my birth. Bring on the cake.

I was born in this tiny town in New Mexico. I moved when I was about 5 or 6, but I visit regularly.

It is a small place, but it is home to me, and I love it no matter the economic state it is in. All my family is from there (there, and in Mississippi, where the rest of my family lives).

I remember being able to walk around anywhere in town and if I needed anything, all I had to do was knock on someone's door and ask to use the phone, bathroom, what ever.
I remember playing hide and seek until late at night when I was little and none of our parents worried about our safety.
I remember drinking from the hose when I was thirsty.
I remember walking to school.
I remember that the first attempted murder in my neighborhood changed everything. My cousin was the victim and his attacker was unknown. It scared the crap out of all of us.

I was born, before, the last War, in a City in the UK, called Bristol.
Went to school there, made all my friends, married and had my daughter there, so I remember a lot about it and have good memories.
For a City it was a sleepy sort of place and as kids we could cycle safely on the roads and wander around the City Centre without fear. The rate of alcoholism was the lowest in the Country and the crime rate remarkably low.
Left there on 22nd July 1963 because my husband was offered a good job in the Midlands.
Bristol will always be "my home" but the reality, is that the Bristol I knew as a child no longer exists. So I'm really in a no-mans land now; the Town in which I've lived for over 40 years has never felt like "home", but neither does the City I left.
I have no friends here, just passing acquaintances - ships that pass in the night.