Terror in Small-Town, USA :: Example Personal Narratives

Terror in Small-Town, USA     Situated between the abundant green rolling hills, is Small-Town, USA. It was election day, and looking forward to a visit to the ice cream shop, I accompanied my grandfather as he control the ten-mile journey to township. Country life offered little excitement, only if that day an air of uneasiness replaced the usual contentment one felt while passing aged(a) buildings, their drabness contrasted sharply by a few colorful, modern improvements. Having spent the first ten years of my life here, it was easy to detect any flip-flop in the towns mood.   I pondered the worried expression on the faces of the few people we saw on the streets. It seemed everyone was in a hurry. There were not the usual groups self-possessed to exchange local gossip. Most noticeable was the absence of children.   As my grandfathers dilapidated Ford approached the towns only traffic light, we were greeted-not by flashing red, yellow or green--b ut by uniformed National Guardsmen armed with guns and appearing much out of place in such placid surroundings. As our vehicle slowed to a stop, I was dismayed as I saw before me a huge machine gun, pointed in our direction. A young guardsman walked briskly to the car and explained, almost apologetically, Sorry Sir, but well have to search your car. Just routine procedure.   As the car was being searched, we learned the reason for such drastic precautionary measures. A man whom we knew and who was a candidate for the sheriffs office, had been brutally murdered in the presence of his wife and daughter. It was rumored that the opposing party was responsible for the fatal shotgun blast, and other rumors stated that explosives would be brought into town to bomb the courthouse.   As this unbelievable information was being given, I sat petrified, trying to convince myself that this was the same town where, only yesterday, old men in dirty overalls lounged around the courthouse, spitting tobacco and discussing the forthcoming election. Dogs and children had romped freely on the sidewalks, while women browsed in the stores for hours without buying anything. Strangely, all this had changed overnight, and the preconceptions I had about our peaceful soil and the glorious right to vote were beginning to sound as a sour note.