Warriors of Virtue [antikvár]

1It could have been any town anywhere in the country, a perfect, picture-postcard slice of suburban America: a typical middle-class neighborhood made up of modest homes on well-kept lawns, station wagons and minivans parked in almost every driveway. It was a warm, sunny Southern California Saturday morning and the weekend routine had been substituted for the habits of the workweek. Lawnmowers muttered throughout the neighborhood, a teenager or two worked in driveways washing cherished cars, people lounged in backyards, enjoying an extra cup of coffee and a little longer with the morning1