There are many, ever shrinking enclaves left in this country that still resemble what America once was. The occupants of these holdouts moved there long ago to send their children to safe schools. When they go to Wal-Mart there is no urine in the doorway. When they stop in at the bank on a Saturday morning there isn’t a line of fifteen foreigners trying to speak to the teller in 15 different languages. They have never been asked for spare change in Farsi. They do not have a Hijab Store on their street yet.
They simply don’t get it.
Being in Atlanta gives us foreknowledge.
Which it is like where I live and I find it hard to read about what is going on in the rest of America.