From Nothing to Everything:
Growing Up in Blakeslee

I grew up in Blakeslee, Pennsylvania — a tiny mountain community nestled in the heart of the Poconos — and when I say we had nothing, I mean it with the deepest, most nostalgic love in my heart.

It was the 1970s. The mountains were just as beautiful as they are today — maybe even wilder, quieter, untouched. But life out here required a kind of self-sufficiency that younger generations can hardly imagine. We didn't run to the corner store for milk because there was no corner store. If you needed groceries — real groceries — you got in the car and you drove. Thirty minutes down Route 115 to Stroudsburg. That was it. That was the trip.

Mom would make a list. A real list, written on the back of an envelope or a piece of notebook paper, because you did NOT forget anything — there was no popping back out for butter. You planned. You stocked up. You made it count. The drive itself became part of the rhythm of the week. We'd pile into the station wagon and head down the mountain, passing farms and forests and little signs of civilization along the way, until Stroudsburg finally appeared like a small civilization after the wilderness.

There was no fast food out here. No pizza delivery. No Chinese takeout. If you wanted a hot meal, someone cooked it — usually my grandmother, who could turn the most modest ingredients into something extraordinary. Dinner came from the kitchen, and the kitchen came from what you could grow, preserve, or haul up from town.

The Poconos back then were a place apart. The summer people came — folks from New York and New Jersey with their vacation cabins — but they brought their own supplies. The year-round locals just… lived with what was here. And what was here was gorgeous, peaceful, and wonderfully, sometimes frustratingly, remote.

I remember when the first small convenience store opened nearby. It felt like a miracle. Bread! Milk! Right here in the mountains! People actually talked about it. It was news. That's how sparse things were. Every new business that opened in the area was a conversation piece, a celebration, a sign that maybe the outside world had noticed we existed.

The Slow Build

Through the '80s and '90s, things changed — slowly at first, then faster. More families moved in year-round. Tourism grew. The ski resorts expanded. Little by little, restaurants opened, then gas stations with actual convenience stores, then a diner or two. Each one felt like progress, like the mountains were quietly becoming part of the broader world while somehow holding onto their magic.

By the 2000s, you could actually run out for a pizza. You could find a pharmacy without driving 30 minutes. The Poconos were no longer the ends of the earth — they were becoming a real, thriving community with real, modern amenities. And I watched all of it happen, right here on the same roads my family had driven for generations.

And Then Came DoorDash

I don't think anything captures the transformation of the Poconos quite like the moment I realized I could order DoorDash — here. In Blakeslee. In the mountains where, not so long ago, dinner required a 30-minute drive just for ingredients.

Now? You can have restaurant food delivered right to your front door. And I don't just mean pizza. Full restaurant meals, hot and ready, delivered to a mountain community that once felt like it was at the edge of civilization. The convenience is staggering to someone who grew up with a grocery list and a long drive.

But perhaps my absolute favorite symbol of how far we've come? Lake Harmony Beverage now offers DoorDash delivery — including beer. Beer, delivered to your door, in the Poconos. I genuinely laughed the first time I heard that. Not because it's funny, but because it's so perfectly, wonderfully modern. The little girl who drove 30 minutes for a gallon of milk could never have imagined it.

"The little girl who drove 30 minutes for a gallon of milk could never have imagined having beer delivered to her door in the Poconos."

Everything at Our Fingertips

Today, the Poconos have it all. Grocery stores, pharmacies, restaurants of every kind, gyms, boutiques, spas, breweries, coffee shops — you name it. The growth of our little mountain community over the past 50 years has been extraordinary. What was once a remote escape accessible only to those who planned and prepared has become a fully equipped, wonderfully convenient place to live year-round.

And it hasn't lost what made it special. The mountains are still here. The lakes still shimmer in the morning. The trees still turn that impossible gold in October. The Poconos are still wild and beautiful and peaceful — they've just also become, wonderfully, convenient.

As someone whose family has been here for over 150 years — who watched this transformation happen in real time, decade by decade — I am nothing but grateful. Grateful for every business that took a chance on our little mountain community. Grateful for every road improvement, every new restaurant, every delivery driver navigating the back roads to bring someone their dinner. Grateful for the growth that made life here not just beautiful, but truly livable.