Two years ago this happened. It seems a lifetime ago. People are still marching for what they should already have 700+ days later. Not much has changed.
Except that day, for a bit, things did.
And this remains in my mind. That day. And that moment when everything coalesced around the protection circle formed around the man who clearly wasn’t anybody’s enemy, despite the narrative.
This small town, tucked away near NEPAs coffin corner. Not much news comes from here, unless it’s bad. Its knuckleheads are legion and legendary. But it’s the type of place that closes in on itself. Outsiders are wary, with good reason. You’re allowed to shit on Carbondale if your roots are there. But if not? Proceed with your shit-talking at your own risk.
The good surround the bad. Everywhere. They are never outnumbered. Merely cowed. Or shouted down. Or driven underground by apathy. When they believe the narrative, the narrative becomes true.
On this day at least, they did not believe.