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Darker than Grey
It was a grey day in Clinton, Iowa. Not just the weather. Things I saw on my long walk with Callie put me into a somber mood.
We walked from downtown to the Lyons’s business district on the walkway along the Mississippi River. Early into the walk, I saw this.
Someone vandalized this fence in the name of American freedom. And for what? To access a flooded backwater where the trail ends just beyond the fence.
I walked several miles contemplating this angry, misguided act before turning west into Lyons. In fairness, I later saw attractive, thriving blocks. But this was my first impression.
This was an empty city block, except for the last apparent business remaining: a gun store.
I walked up a few blocks, returning to downtown via what had to be its most prosperous street—many years ago. Huge homes that must have been the pride of their owners at some point.
Continuing my walk, I saw some well-kept homes, large and small, but I couldn’t shake my feeling of American decline. Calling it great doesn’t make it so. Sometimes, it’s just a turd floating in the water. When we accept lower standards, something is lost.
“combined sewer overflow” |
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