The Lightkeeper of Troup County

In Troup County, there was a town where the light never stayed on.

Every evening by 6pm, the streetlight in front of old Mama Rose's house would go off. PHUT. Darkness.

The town called NEPA, the government, the devil - everybody they blamed.

But Mama Rose knew. She was 89 and she never slept early.

Every night at 6:01, she would take her small stool, her rechargeable lamp, and sit under the dead streetlight.

And she would ON her own lamp.

Cars passing would see her small light and slow down. Children coming from school would gather around it to do homework. Lovers would come to sit near it.

One boy asked her, "Mama, why you dey waste your battery? Na government light suppose work, no be yours."

Mama Rose smiled.

"My pikin, the world go off many times. Government go off. Nepa go off. People go off. If I wait for the big light, I go sit for darkness forever."

"So I bring my small one."

When Mama Rose died, the town finally fixed the big streetlight. It now stays on all night.

But till today, if you pass there at 6:01pm, you will see a small stool, and a small lamp, still ON under the big light.

Nobody knows who keeps putting it there.

But the children still gather.