The Festering Odor Of Sulfuric Acid

For my interview with an older adult I interviewed a man named Herald who is 83 years old, or years young as he would say, on Saturday the 19th of September at his home in the town of Griffin, Georgia. In asking Herald to describe his background I determined that he was born in Long Island, New York in the year 1933 and lived there for the first 17 years of his life. Upon turning 17 he packed up his things and moved out west to Idaho where he worked as a park ranger for a several year until he moved back home where he enlisted in the army. When asking him about his family he described himself as an only child, with a mother and a father of European dissent. Herald was married to a woman named Doris for 45 years until she died in early 2000 of an inoperable brain tumor that was thought to be caused by the traditional radiation treatments for acne she received as a child. He has four living children from his marriage with Doris, two sons and two daughters, each of which still live in the state of Georgia and two who still live in Griffin where they were born. As well as this he has five grandchildren, three of which are boys and two who are girls. Three of his grandchildren are in college within the Georgia university system and the other two are in high school.

Individuals of The Kelsey community carry a huge responsibility to preserve the land, as well as the ways of the community. It is very clear that this community is a small one, yet still, a strong and very productive one. The individuals of this community have learned to work and communicate with one another, in harmony, to survive and improve their way of life together. Initially, they survived on what they themselves grew; making sure that it was of quality. Throughout the years, as the community grew, by reproducing and evolving,

Where I come from it's taking pride in your yard, knowing every single one of your neighbors, and leaving doors unlocked because there isn’t a thing to worry about. I find comfort in that small town feel, and I am more than proud to be from good ol’ Warrenton, Indiana. Here, we are just a wee bit shy of being big enough to be on a map, but we have a name and we have town lines. Within those lines nearly two hundred people have found a home, and thanks to Mr.Dave Gruible our community is steadily flourishing. There are now three subdivisions on the rise in addition to the church, salon, family restaurant, and campgrounds that nestled into the area years ago.

For this mini-project, I interviewed my 72-year-old grandmother. My grandmother, Dominga, was born and raised in the Agua Caliente, El Salvador. She lived in a poor rural area where her parents owned a strip of land where they were able to own animals. She was born to parents who were Mestizo, of mixed European and indigenous descent. My grandmother was around my age in the 1960s, so I wanted to know what her everyday life as a woman was during that time.

On a brisk Friday in November, I, along with my boyfriend, his mother, and their pet pomeranian, were settled in the back of a 2014 Chevy Malibu and prepared to depart for his brother’s abode in southern Illinois. Despite residing in the state alongside it, I was completely unfamiliar with Illinois and looking forward to seeing how the land might contrast from what I was familiar with. I had mentally depicted bustling cities and a nonexistent rural atmosphere, but was taken aback when the “Welcome to Illinois” sign passed us by in a flash and nothing but miles of uninhabited land followed it.

Life in the town of Stoneshade was fairly simple. The weather is always warm, although the sun never seems to shine. The Stoneshade river brings us fresh water from Marianne's glacier, just north of us in the mountains. The people here are mainly happy, but I can’t be one voice for everyone, since the town is too big to know every person in it. In fact, it’s more like a city than a town, but since everyone lives so far away from each other, it doesn’t have the city feel to it. In between the many houses are a vast range of trees, which is where most of us spend our time. Even though our town has the high technology of any other place, the residents prefer to stay outside, and for a good reason, too.

I am standing outside the Wolcott House and it is 30 degrees out. A cold breeze runs through my coat. The Wolcott House is a late Federal early Greek Revival style home built around 1830. The home remained in the Wolcott’s family possession until 1959 when it was then turned over to the public. It was built in Maumee during the pioneer days; the home is a magnificent white two story, fourteen-room mansion. The house overlooks the Maumee River, a perfect location for James Wolcott. He was a shipbuilder, architect, politician and judge, it was crucial for him to have easy access to the river. It has been documented that this historical home is haunted. There have been visions and the feeling of super natural presence in the rooms of the home. I try to imagine myself back in time, in the late nineteenth century. Instead of the roar of cars, I would hear the boats on the Maumee River. The sound of wood being chopped would be heard in the distance, one of the Wolcott children doing some of their daily chores. The Wolcott boys, all five of them, would be responsible for supplying the wood and kindling for the fireplaces.

The community is of a dreamlike place, embodying visions of the American flag, bake sales, and neighborhood gatherings. People will expect to experience a transition as if they were "going to be leaving America and going into this fantasy kingdom, where there is no crime, with only people like me. Celebrations premise is that residents will stroll treelined streets to afternoon matinees, waving to their neighbors on the front porches along the way"(Wilson 2). Despite the beauty of Celebration, this artificial front gives people reservations about living in such a community.

In my hometown could you find friendly people with stalls lined along Main Street. Newly picked flowers, glistening apples, and crisp bottled honey surrounded me. It was the monthly farmer’s market, after all. Going to the county fair proved to be a worthwhile pastime too. Mooing cows filled my ears while to my left I could see a group of kids smoking a blunt. My school was filled with whispers, gossiping or uttering the n-word while others murmured proudly of how they were going to vote for Donald Trump. This town of 4,000 residents was home — and it could also be your home too. Known for its history, people, and activities, there are many surprises located in this small yet cozy village.

In the Midwestern region of the United States, there is a town called Plymouth in the state of Wisconsin. It is a small welcoming town with one road running down the middle, invokes the feeling of home. At night, the street lights glow along the sidewalks; the houses along the road are inviting with landscaped yards, large wicker wreaths on doors and the warmth of families gathering around the table for dinner. In the corner of Plymouth sits a park, Meyers Park is nestled between the rolling farm hills and a slow flowing river to the south. The park is where I spent my childhood, a place where I grew into the person I am today. Meyers Park will always hold important memories I have made.

In a town where 96% of surveyed adults say that life in De Pere is either good or excellent, the better question becomes Why Not De Pere? From beautiful homes, to the historic district, riverfront condos and elegant senior homes De Pere has whatever your looking for. Rivers, creeks and trails feed your hunger for the beauty of nature, world class schools and the renowned St. Norbert College fill your desire for exemplary educational options and a highly diverse, robust business sector address your personal economic development. Come to a place that is far more than a geographic location--one where tradition, family and community are not slogans, but threads in the fabric of

If your water has started to smell like rotten eggs, you need to sanitize your water heater. Bacteria build-up in your water heater can cause your water to smell bad; the only way to effectively get rid of the smell is to throughly clean your water heater. Here are the steps you'll need to follow in order to get rid of that bad smell:

As far back as my memory allows me to recall I’ve always lived in the simply small town of Gurdon, Arkansas. Lacking in many of things including a grocery store, it is not necessarily difficult to assume the town is dull just by the looks of the uninhabited streets running through the heart of the city. Luckily with my seventeen years of being a local, I am able to understand that these false accusations just scrape the surface of the deeper aspects that actually make the town that I’m proud to call home so rare. Searching all the things that define Gurdon as home to everyone that has lived here, the Gurdon Light outweighed the others with my own experiences.

District 12 is a poverty incarnate. As plumes of ashen grey smoke pollute the sky, the monotonous sound of pickaxes bang sullenly against ghastly grey stone rings throughout the streets of District 12. Homeless men and women line the streets, laying against the walls of run down buildings with nothing but the tattered clothes on their back to shelter them from the vicious frost biting away at their flesh. Drunkards and miners drag their feet across the cracked and faded pavement, some wandering aimlessly in the hopes they might discover a better life, whilst others head towards the Hob, a makeshift agora were the denizens of District 12 attempt to trade goods and services. The sun hides behind an infinite expanse of grey clouds that blanket

I have lived all of my life in, Durham New Hampshire. There are so many beautiful things about the town I grew up in: the leaves change to brilliant oranges, yellows, and reds in autumn. In the winter, a blanket of white covers the suburban homes and small pizza shops. By the time June comes, most of the college students from the university have left. It is peaceful without them walking to classes, and playing volleyball on the yards in front of fraternity and Sorority houses. It gets lonely without them, and it seems eerily quiet without their chatter on the green lawns in front of dorms.