Getting in my last bike training push before the duathlon on Saturday morning, I have been thinking about Rory Walter on and off all day. I received two angry e-mail responses to the articles published about her in Wednesday’s e-News. I simply can’t understand how people who live in a small rural community can become so emo and negative instead of taking that powerful intensity and applying it to make some kind of change for the better.
Using e-mail to express rage is almost comical, typing in gigantic bold fonts with lots of exclamation points and other expressive adornment. It might actually be humorous if it weren’t for the genuine spite and personal mud-slinging they broadcast, not only at Rory but at anyone and everyone who supports her, including me. So, carrying all of this in my thoughts, I spun down 57 in her direction, just hoping I might find a way to be helpful. Earlier in the day I loaded a bunch of tools in the pickup, planning on working there, but spent all morning preparing for an 11:30am house showing here instead. Then, I took my boys to the Y for a swim and came back to my home office to work on the Web all afternoon.
Now, at 5:30 I am finally out alone, on the road, getting some exercise, getting used to wearing a cycling helmet, getting ready for the duathlon, checking up on Rory. As I round the curve the first thing I see is a bunch of cars in her driveway and a camera crew set up on the near fence line corner. Oh no… they are taking her animals. My heart sinks. I u-turn across the lane and pull in to the driveway.
There’s a fire truck out in the pasture. People are busy out in her pasture, but it’s too far away to tell what they are doing.
“Are they taking her animals?” I ask the news crew.
“No, the Humane Society’s here and the fire department, bringing dog food and a load of hay for the horses. The pumper truck is filling the troughs with fresh water,” explains the TV 26 reporter. “Do you know Rory?”
All of a sudden the camera turns toward me…
