At the rural, unincorporated, town hall. The town of Albany is totally rural, and relies on a neighboring bigger town for snowplowing and road repair.
Talking about on the steps:
If that link won’t reveal, try:
Folks originally “from-away” will also be voting in Greenwood. A conversation overheard… (I am not very good at eavesdropping. Please did not share this with Bezza.)
“The end of the so-called French and Indian wars was a big deal solely because they were French and Indians.” On his way to Bethel, mail-in ballot in hand, this was said to anyone listening.
The proposal under consideration: start a petition for a referendum to secede from the Union in order to unite with Canada.
“Better run this by more Mainers.” Bezza was suggesting, a giant woman with legs like pulp logs, gut like a ballast ball, broad boobs and small shoulders supporting neck and great redheaded features already tan from a horse ride round New England and into Virginia. Dryly she said, “ ‘Yankees’ was not redundant, depending on how you look at it. Maineiacs probably have a different take.”
“I don’t know,” said Phil, with southern slowness indicating his Okefenokee Swamp origins. He was tall and lank, stoop-shouldered with a small round gut. “Part of the reason I like it here is the single-minded indifference to what others think. Right?” As an afterthought he grinned in self-mockery over the one-word self implicating query.
WHERE VOTING ONCE OCCURRED, HERE IS A VINTAGE CIRCA 1950’s PHOTO OF OUR OWN LOCAL TOWN HALL.
greenwood town hall