One thing that happened, though, my husband Jon, was out Saturday morning taking pictures and drove by our old house out in the country. He said the police had the exit from the highway leading to the old place blocked off and there was a SWAT team around the house. He thought, from the lights on the small structures they had built out back, they might have gotten caught growing weed. I was certain those structures were for chickens and they were likely having cock fights. Both illegal, but only one would be hard to stomach. It turns out, we were both wrong and it was only some guy waving a gun and making threats.
The craziest thing about this story is, our little town has a SWAT team. Of course, I think it's a "volunteer" SWAT team. There are eight members and seven are named Carl. They practice on Saturday morning by hunting down and shooting prairie dogs.
I feel much safer just knowing they are out there. Thanks Carls.