Abstract
Dust billows behind the old truck rumbling along a cheat grass lined road. A squirrel scampers ahead, annoyed twitches of its tail scolding the truck as it pulls into its destination. Four of us are scrunched into the King Cab like so many consultant sardines. The coffee stain on the linen jumper of the 30-something representative of the opposition group is a lasting insult of the ride along the rutted road. The outskirts of Willowberg, a town of 30,000 people, sits at the periphery of our vision. Long economically depressed, Willowberg has had its precipitous decline slowed by a few new larger employers in the transportation and military professions. By day, generous new salaries bring a new breed of people to Willowberg, but after work, the newcomers mostly flee to rural hobby farms or homes located in faraway towns with amenities like golf courses. Willowberg has no such amenities.