The Small Town (from my journal)

(This is an exerpt from my journal written the day after the second incident described below.)



In moments like this, I understand the appeal of a small town. I can see where country songs get their inspiration and I can see where all the things people say about us come from. It's moments like these that I regret wanting to leave after high school, wanting to make it big, wanting to forget this place. Moments like these define a town, they define a community, and they define individuals.

Obama's Inauguration Day, January, 2009.
English class, 3rd period, the class watches patiently and slightly distracted as the inauguration carries about on the TV screen in the corner of the room.
Some students are conversing amongst themselves quietly; others are giving the screen their full attention. Still more are watching, while debating pros and cons of the new president and various other political and moral points.
The man on the screen that has been delivering the most recent speech announces that he would like to lead the crowd, and America, in prayer.
Conversation slides off the edge of a cliff,
complete attention turns to pure analyzation,
debate halts immediately.
The prayer begins.
The class, as a whole, pays their respects. Soon, one by one, the students finish their personal prayers and lift their heads to find the man still praying. One student notices that the man on the screen is from the north; his prayer is in another style.
Here, at home, in the south, people pray to their Lord as if he were their best friend and they needed someone to confide in.
In the north they pray with excellence and awe.
The prayer continues still. Finally the man says the beginnings of The Lord's Prayer.
Like a domino effect, the class begins to mimic his words. We are now reciting the prayer as one, like it is second nature.
The same student that noticed the styles now notices something else. Even though the class has it's problems, it's groups, it's drama, it is still one class.
There is a connection.
We are all in this together,
with our Lord to walk beside us,
to lead in front of us,
to carry us in his arms.





Friday Night, January 24th, Approximately 10:40pm, 2009.
Two girls, best friends, are driving around town. They pull into the gas station to buy a drink. They are standing at the front desk waiting for their change and a crash erupts outside.
They leave the building and place their drinks in the truck. They examine the scene, and cause, of the crash. An 18-wheeler truck had just pulled in and tried to turn. He was hauling tin and the straps had snapped.
There was a variation of metal shapes that littered the ground.
The girls begin to attempt to help the confused driver. Two more boys drive up in another truck. They get out and immediately begin to assist.
Eventually all the tin that has fallen is back on the bed and strapped back down. The group of people walk to the front of the trailer, the source of the problem.
There is an area where the tin has fallen forward to the cab of the truck. The boys first try to push it back on but it is too heavy. A car has pulled up and we believe our problems are solved. It is the sheriff and we are certain he will help.
He steps out of his car, looks, laughs, and leaves.
He had noticed that the driver of the truck was a black man. He was racist.
The group let the fumes subside and turned their attention back to the problem on hand. Soon they were back to trying to find a way to fix the problem.
Another 20 minutes has passed.
A green truck pulls up. The boy that gets out is the sheriff’s son. He grabs a pair of gloves as soon as he understands the situation and tries his best to help.
He has proved himself a better man than his father.
The two girls from the beginning stand back when they realize that they are no longer any assistance.
The group now consists of two girls, three boys, and the driver.
All the kids are joking with each other as they work; poking fun at each other, having a good time, and showing off for the girls. The night continues on and the girls' curfew is nearing.
They each have to be home by midnight, no exceptions.
Soon, the boys stop their attempts and try to come up with a new method.
One boy stays behind while the other two leave to find a forklift.
Before they pull out, the girls say their goodbyes and give them each a hug. They hug the third boy and tell him goodbye as well.
The girls leave in the truck they arrived in.
The girl in the passenger seat realizes
that this is what small town lives are about.
This is how people in small towns
get their respect. They have
manors and know how to help.