As I drove into town, the courthouse jumped out at me. There’s something I really like about when you drive into town and you can see the courthouse from miles away, the biggest, most prominent building around. You know what I don’t like?
Confederate memorials. My big problem is that I don’t like them taking up places of prominence at the peoples’ house, but that comes with gradations. I don’t mind when there’s a memorial to Confederate dead. They’re county citizens who died so I get that. I mind more when there are monuments glorifying Confederate dead. I even more mind when there’s monuments to the Confederacy itself. But that’s not what honks me off the most. It’s flags. Confederate flags. Not the Battle flag because nobody is insensitive enough (or judgement proof enough) to raise that over a courthouse. But other flags? That happens. I’m not going to be too angry because of something someone put on the lawn in the ’30s. But someone raises that flag every day. Every day.
There aren’t any caches in town proper, but there is one on the very edge of town in a local park. Guess which one? The cache was retrieved, signed, and returned, again ahead of schedule. Pulled up the route on my phone and hit the road again, bound for…
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