{"id":1238,"date":"2021-09-17T00:01:00","date_gmt":"2021-09-17T04:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/therabbithoel.com\/?p=1238"},"modified":"2021-09-17T01:08:32","modified_gmt":"2021-09-17T05:08:32","slug":"a-midday-cacophony-west-point-at-noon","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/therabbithoel.com\/?p=1238","title":{"rendered":"A Midday Cacophony: West Point at Noon"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">When you think about a small town, do you imagine that it&#8217;s a quiet place?  I certainly do.  And, for the most part, West Point was a pretty quiet place.  You might hear a teenager&#8217;s hot rod once in a while.  And there was certainly some noise from the grain elevator down the street, at least at certain times of year.  But much of the time all you would hear is birds singing, and the wind through the trees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<!--more-->\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Every day at noon, though, things changed.  For a few minutes, the quiet little town exploded in noise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\"><figure class=\"alignright size-full is-resized\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/therabbithoel.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/09\/ST-Marys.jpg?resize=317%2C313&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-1240\" width=\"317\" height=\"313\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/therabbithoel.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/09\/ST-Marys.jpg?w=226&amp;ssl=1 226w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/therabbithoel.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/09\/ST-Marys.jpg?resize=88%2C88&amp;ssl=1 88w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 317px) 100vw, 317px\" \/><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">First came the church bells.  Saint Mary&#8217;s would ring the church bells every day, promptly at noon.  I&#8217;m not sure if that was an automated thing, or if someone actually climbed up in the bell tower to ring them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">A moment later, the siren for the volunteer fire department would go off.  Back then, the fire station was in a quonset hut on the east side of town.  I&#8217;m not sure if it was just south of the Pilot Grove Savings bank, or one block east.  Google Earth tells me it has moved, and now it&#8217;s on the north edge of town.  There was a siren on a metal tower next to the building, to summon the volunteers when needed.  That siren was clearly audible throughout town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Finally, the dogs would join in.  Grandma&#8217;s neighbors across the street, Merschman&#8217;s, kept a pen full of hunting dogs.  I think they were coon dogs.  They certainly bayed like coon dogs.  And they offered their wholehearted participation every day.  There were plenty of other dogs in town too, and they all joined in, barking at the noise, and at each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The siren and the church bells would go for a minute or two, and stop around the same time.  The dogs would carry on for a bit, until they got tired, or bored.  All in all, for about five minutes, the peace was well and truly broken.  <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>When you think about a small town, do you imagine that it&#8217;s a quiet place? I certainly do. And, for the most part, West Point was a pretty quiet place. You might hear a teenager&#8217;s hot rod once in a while. And there was certainly some noise from the grain elevator down the street, at [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"A Midday Cacophony: West Point at Noon\nWhen you think about a small town, do you imagine that it's a quiet place?  For the most part, West Point was.   Every day at noon, though, things changed.  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