When Earl and Dolly Huntington sell their house, which sits behind Junior’s property, he is concerned about the Hispanic family that moves in. He’s not against them personally, it’s just that they raise chickens and rabbits, and have a large dog that barks a lot. The rooster crows at all hours of the day and night. Mom thinks it is saying, “It’s a disASter.”
Finally, Junior decides to report them to the county. He watches from his window as the county man looks over their yard. Thirty minutes later, the man knocks on Junior’s front door and serves him a citation for the state of his own property.
“Well, that’s what I get for not minding my own business,” Junior says philosophically.
There is a growing mountain of empty beer cans in the corner of Junior’s fenced back yard next to our driveway. One day, my mother mentions to Junior that he can get a few cents a can at the recycling center at the store. It doesn’t take long for Junior to round up a friend and his pick-up—Junior does not drive. It takes a while for them to pile the cans into the bed of the truck, there’s so many of them. They carefully cover them with a worn blanket before roaring up the driveway.
Hundreds of beer cans along with a few Coca Cola cans piled up
in Junior's back yard.
Three hours later they are back with almost $250 in their pockets.
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