The town of Meeksville couldn't be more picturesque. They had a barbershop next to an old fashioned soda jerk and ice cream parlor. Their sheriff's office only had one cell, at it mostly just held guys who needed to “cool their jets.” The children were well behaved most of the time, and when they weren't, their mischief was of a wholesome, adorable nature. There was a lovely park where the town gathered every weekend for festivals or movies broadcast in good old fashioned technicolor larger than life on the big screen. It was the kind of place where the scent of fresh cut grass and home made cookies always wafted about on a gentle breeze, and guys named Buzz and Skip always gave their pins to their best gal to show they were going steady.
And right there in the middle of the town was a giant pit that led straight to Hell, from which demons would nightly rise. Some towns would have called it a day and moved, but not Meeksville. Their Leave It to Beaver optimism couldn't be deterred by anything, so rather than get down in the dumps about it, they looked on the bright side. The demons helped keep kids in loving homes and off the streets at night. Church attendance was up, up, up, property taxes were down, down, down, and the stone work had a sort of rustic charm to it.
- Originally mailed to C. Townsend in Hattiesburg, Mississippi
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