a robust Randian private sector failed to emerge to replace public services. A theoretical private fire department run by Bob Hull never seemed to actually stop fires. A freedom-themed farmers’ market sputtered along for a while, then faded. A proposed public-service militia never got off the ground. Meanwhile, the constant bloodletting was turning the once-vibrant town government into a symbol of societal decay. On the town’s few miles of paved roads, untended blacktop cracks first blossomed into fissures, then bloomed into grassy potholes. After voters rejected a funding request for $40,000
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