Sunday, September 23, 2007

The Hallelujahs

We live in a very small town, close to a very big town. To say that it is predominantly Hispanic is the understatement of the universe. So everyone pretty much knows everyone else, and so on. Down the street a little ways is one whole block of Morales. Mr. & Mrs. Morales bought the lot years ago, and now their four boys all live on it. It is like a Hispanic version of “keeping up with the joneses”. When one brother builds a gazebo, all the others have to have one. The only problem is they haven’t really kept up with the property and it has become quite the eyesore.

But here is the real story.

Across the street from the Morales brothers is a small church. And when I say small, I mean TINY. Literally no more than 1,000 square feet. So on Wednesday night, and Sunday morning and night, the “Hallelujahs”, as they have come to be known in town, have their little church service. Evidently the Morales do not share the same religious views as the Hallelujahs, and the sound of their hymns echoing across the street three times a week is somewhat enraging. So after taking the Hallelujahs to court fruitlessly several times over the last few years, they have found their own way to combat the “glorious noise”. Although I had heard of the “war” I had never witnessed it until tonight. I was headed to pick up some grub from the Mexican food diner down the street, and I had my windows down, as it was such a lovely night. From the Hallelujah side, I heard some vaguely familiar church tune, and from the Morales side (as I politely waved to three of the four outside under their gazebo, drinking beer) I heard blasting from an old school boom box propped up by a brick on the gate, good ole rock’n’roll. Every time the Hallelujahs are there, so are the Morales, and their boom box, and Metallica, or whomever happens to be on BOB FM at the time…

1 comment:

thewishfulwriter said...



tee hee