Trouble in Paradise: What a Meth?

Odd. Not the kind of thing you expect to see parked near the church up on the hardtop–an armoured State Police vehicle–with the narrow bullet-proof windows, bristling with all sorts of communications and weapons-ready ports on the top, wide as a tank, and ready.

For what exactly? Nobody was inside when I came home from town at 2 pm today.

I would have to remember to tell Wife and ask if anything might lead her to believe our quiet valley had been the scene of a crime.

We are a bit on high alert, after hearing from a neighbor not many days ago that there is suspicion of a meth lab back up the mountain.

I had not gotten in the door good before Wife begins to tell about a half dozen cars speeding almost bumper to bumper down our  otherwise-sleep road, followed closely by an all-black car with some kind of insignia.

I smell drug bust. So far, nothing showing up on any of the news services.

I grieve that people resort to such poisons to make money. I hope they nail their sorry aspirins.

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Fred First holds masters degrees in Vertebrate Zoology and physical therapy, and has been a biology teacher and physical therapist by profession. He moved to southwest Virginia in 1975 and to Floyd County in 1997. He maintains a daily photo-blog, broadcasts essays on the Roanoke NPR station, and contributes regular columns for the Floyd Press and Roanoke's Star Sentinel. His two non-fiction books, Slow Road Home and his recent What We Hold in Our Hands, celebrate the riches that we possess in our families and communities, our natural bounty, social capital and Appalachian cultures old and new. He has served on the Jacksonville Center Board of Directors and is newly active in the Sustain Floyd organization. He lives in northeastern Floyd County on the headwaters of the Roanoke River.

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