Stillwater is just another notch on America's Rust Belt—a town of rusted metal, sagging power lines, and gravel lots with tall weeds. Decades ago, dozens of factories belched smoke and offered wages to the hard-working. Now, the factories are mostly abandoned, bankrupt and left to rot. Passing through Stillwater, sights include half-collapsed warehouses, boarded up townhouses, abandoned cars, overgrown rail yards, and gutted buildings tagged with generations of names. Residents never left because they either couldn’t find a way out or made a home—an odd pride in the sort of resilience that only those born and raised here can claim. Community gathers around bonfires behind the old scrapyard, young lovers find romance in the crackle of cheap radios, forgiveness and connection is gifted over cheap beer, and neighbors are either an enemy or an ally. No one trusts law enforcement, snitches disappear, and good days are rare.