Saturday, August 01, 2009

A Small Town In The Northwest

Everyone had been waiting for it for over a week. The community bulletin board on the road into town had the announcement on it, and the town newspaper had an article about it. It is done regularly through the summer, but people still get excited about it.

The town's Business Association puts on the "Movie in the Park" once a month through the summer. This month was a blockbuster children's movie, and the children were excited. There is a large movie screen, and a projector the Association owns, and they even set up a small concession stand to get munchies. Now they were getting ready.

We had arrived, and claimed our spot. There were many others coming and doing the same. Like us, they then took their kids to the town playground to let the kids play before it starts. The kids happily played, chased each other, slid down the slide, and not one incident of fighting or competition to be tougher or more intimidating.

Almost in unison, all the parents saw that the sun was getting further down on the horizon, and started to make their way back, kids in tow. When we got there, the kids continued to play, and everyone watched the clock tower in the center of town.

The clock was put in a few years ago after the town council voted to start a fund drive to pay for it so it would not come out of tax money, and the whole town pooled resources and paid not only for the clock, but two contractors in town volunteered to install it. It's a beautiful clock. Whenever a parent would look at the clock a kid would ask "Is it time?" More people were arriving from not only the homes in town, but from the family owned farms and houses in the backwoods surrounding our town, like us.

Kids ran through the obstacle course of blankets and folding chairs brought into the town park while I watched my daughter playing with another girl her age she had not met before, but they instantly became friends. The father of the little girl came to get her because he had the change her little brother's diaper in the bathroom of the library across the street, which was staying open late for that purpose.

I told him if he wanted to go with the boy he could leave his daughter with me, and I would watch her while the girls played. Instinctively he could tell by the white face who was speaking to him, I was trustworthy. Without hesitation he said "OK, if there is a problem, her grandpa is over there." I looked a saw a few old codgers talking by a picnic table. Such is the sense of safety in a White dominant community.

When he returned we talked for a few minutes pointing out to each other whose kids are theirs, and which of the women were our wives. We introduced ourselves, and watched our children play.

As the time drew closer, my daughter and her new friend were playing up front near the screen set up on the town gazebo. I looked out on the crowd and saw the community I live in. When I say the community, I don't mean the majestic mountain constantly in the backdrop of our town, or the buildings of the town founded in the 1850's all styled the way they were back in that era. I mean the ocean of white faces gathered there.

Teenagers gathering together in a small flock gossiping, men shaking hands with other men they went to school with, wives hugging each other after not seeing one another in three whole days, and happy White children squealing while playing tag. Not a dark face around. I could see my wife quietly reading the latest edition of Northwest Observer on the blanket and my son reading a book and occasionally watching the activity around him as I made my way over.

While we waited I noticed even with the activity that surrounded us, there was a quiet around us. Nobody was guffawing out loud, no shouts of "Yo Dawg!", or "EEEYYY Vatos!", no gibbering of indecipherable cackling. People just talking, laughing, and having a good time, and settling in to enjoy the clear warm summer evening.

At that time, I saw one family had with them one negro child sitting on the blanket with them, probably either adopted or a foster kid, but he sat there silent, definitely feeling out of place. Just before the movie started a woman with two kids came along. She and the kids looked to be a mix of black and asian (Blasian?). Not a person talked to them, and they didn't even look at another person, obviously not from town, they might have seen the announcement on the bulletin board since the walking trail goes by it as well. Thankfully, they left quickly afterward.

Laying on that blanket watching the movie, my wife on one side, my son on the other, and my daughter curled up next to me, I thought about how, without those two exceptions, this is how life in the Republic would be. I can lie on the grass in a park enjoying myself in peace and safety after a hard week at work. I can know the community around me will be one where my children are safe from intimidation, and perverts. That the guy I shook hands with will have my values, my ideals, and my sense of community. And that is still a feeling in the small towns around the Northwest. You can look into the eyes of those around you, and see in their white faces that the Republic is a real future.

When the movie ended, we gathered up our pillows and blanket and looked around us. Fathers were carrying sleeping children to vehicles, some whole families asleep together, and people making plans to get together at each others houses. Some volunteered to help take down the equipment, others stood around talking as their weary children yawn and rub their eyes.

When we were in our truck to go, I noticed one of the things I love the most. There was not a scrap of trash anywhere to be found. Not a candy wrapper or soda can anywhere on the ground.

Then I knew I had to tell you. There are places like this in 2009. This was not 50 years ago, but tonight July 31st. There are areas of the Northwest where all you see are happy White faces.

Yes, they are all outside of the major cities, but who really wants to live in those anyway? If you Come Home, you can have this as well. And when you help us to make this dream of our Northwest American Republic a reality, that life will be yours too,,,,,,,without the exceptions.

Stop making excuses. Come Home!!

-Captain Wetbeard


Blogger Ray Seltz said...

nice way to position the situation Harold. But I'd change the name of "Captain Wetbeard". There used to be a joke out there about a guy with a beard who liked to smoke helmets.

5:32 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


Beautiful story. You have my support.

Your Swedish Comrade,


2:15 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Beautiful...soul-stirring...thank you.

9:05 AM  

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