I was sitting on the old red divan in the living room of the Gallia County Farmhouse, when I noticed that my nephew David had dropped a hot dog and bun down between a pillow at the end of the couch and gotten yellow mustard all over the pillow. I saw David in the room. He was about 10 years old. I was disgusted that he would make such a mess and just leave it there.

Both my grandfather Clarence and my grandfather Liston were in the House, and we were all doing some work on the House. Both Clarence and Liston were spry and in good shape, and both appeared to be in the prime of their lives. I was especially interested in getting rid of an old maroon carpet with a flower design which covered the living room floor. It didn't cover the entire floor, because there was an area about a foot wide all around the sides where the light-colored wood wasn't covered.

I picked up a corner of the carpet, which wasn't nailed down, and looked under it. There I could see the dark wood floor boards. They were very thin – about an inch wide. What I noticed was that although they were somewhat banged up, they were in good shape. If they were sanded down and refinished, they would look good. Liston would agree with me; he was anxious to see the carpet be removed. However the house belonged to Clarence, and I didn't think he would let us take out the carpet.

But the carpet was so dirty, you could just see the dust collected on top of it. Finally I had an idea. I asked Clarence if it would be all right if we took up the carpet so we could take it outside and beat the dust out of it. He seemed to think that was a good idea and gave his permission. As Liston and I began rolling up the carpet, I began thinking that when we got it out of here, we might not have to bring it back.

***

As I was looking out the front window of the living room of the Farmhouse, I saw several large trucks filled with people in the back pulling up at the bottom of the hill. I knew these people were refugees, similar to Jews during World War II, and that they had come here to flee. There were hundreds.

The people got off the trucks and moved up in front of the House, many even coming onto the front porch. I looked out and saw them standing on the porch right outside the window.

I began to realize that these people were all common laborers, and most probably had below average intelligence. It occurred to me however that it wasn't really possible to tell how intelligent a person was by how he or she looked. Intelligent people and unintelligent people looked basically the same.

However, I knew that I was in a different class than all these people; they looked up to me and they had come here for my help. I walked out onto the front porch, and they opened up a path for me. I was wearing my black tee shirt with a picture of a whale on the front.

I knew I was going to have to take charge of this situation. We would need food, which meant we would immediately need to begin preparing the fields for large gardens. I just hoped we would be able to raise enough food for everybody. I began speaking, raising my voice so everyone could hear, sensing the authority which I had over the throng. I knew they would respect whatever I told them. But I also felt a sense of isolation, a sense of separation from them.

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