Photo Source: Unsplash I read that it was one of the most beautiful towns in America. Always sunny. Vibrant trees. Friendly people. No crime. Low taxes. Good schools. And a militant police force. I drove into the town to tour the houses for sale. I met Mr. Jones at his real estate office. When I grabbed the door knob to the front entrance of the storefront office, it refused to turn. The sign on the glass door read Open. Thankfully, Mr. Jones saw me outside and rose from his desk to meet...