BUSINESSMAN: . . . gonna cost someone couple bucks, put that building back up.
SECOND BUSINESSMAN: The question is, but who.
BUSINESSMAN: Another question: Who did what?
SECOND BUSINESSMAN: Well, that's always the issue, isn't it . . . ?
(An old WAITRESS tops up their coffee. Camera pans with the WAITRESS, back behind the counter.)
WAITRESS: . . . top it up, Harry?
HARRY: Thank you very much. (He addresses the man to his right:) All I'm saying, you get people down the Capital, telling other people how to live their lives, and got no notion how those people live, then, yes, then people lose their respect for the Institution.
(The WAITRESS takes a pot of coffee. Camera follows her down to the far end of the counter, past a FARMER.)
FARMER: What they talking about down there?
WAITRESS: Oh, they're arguing about the Doe season . . .
FARMER: Jimmy! Whyn't you come up with a new subject, talk about the weather, some damn thing.
BUSINESSMAN: Weather's changing all the time, you talk about the weather, you never know where you stand . . .
(Camera follows her down to PRICE, a man around forty, in a corduroy sportscoat, plain shirt, and a tie. He is looking at a road map.)
WAITRESS: More coffee . . . ?
PRICE: Yes. Thank you.
WAITRESS: ’Nother order toast?
PRICE (checks his watch): No, thank you. I don't have time.
BUSINESSMAN (offstage): Yes, I can attest to the usefulness of passing laws, but I can't see laws ‘bout something none of your concern.
PRICE (to the WAITRESS. He points to the map): Could you tell me where this is . . . ?
WAITRESS (she checks the map): Right out the door, one block down State Street.
PRICE: Thank you.
(He drinks his coffee, camera follows him down the counter to the cash register.)
HARRY: Mister, you tell me, you ain't from around here: how many acres does it take to support a doe all winter?
PRICE: I have no idea.
HARRY: F‘course you don't, neither do they down state, then they should stay out of it. Keep the peace, ’stead of getting so involved with the law.
PRICE (to the WAITRESS): What do I owe you . . . ?
WAITRESS: That'll be ninety-five cents.
(He pays her.)
BUSINESSMAN: You want to use the law for something, find out who burnt the Emporium . . .
SECOND BUSINESSMAN: Charley Hopkins would've found him in an hour.
FARMER: You going today? The Memorial?
BUSINESSMAN: That's today, Lord, isn't it?
FARMER: Yep.
BUSINESSMAN: Time flies, don't it?
FARMER: I've noticed it does.
BUSINESSMAN: You going down the Memorial . . . ?
(PRICE walks out of the restaurant.)
(ANGLE EXTERIOR: STATE STREET, TOWN OF BRADFORD. A SMALL NEW ENGLAND TOWN. He has just exited from The Coffeecorner, and behind him, in the bay window, we see the REGULARS whose conversation we have just been hearing. PRICE stands on the sidewalk for a moment, looks up at the sky and shivers a bit. One of the REGULARS comes out behind him, stands near him, lighting a cigarette.)
REGULAR: Just passing through?
PRICE: No. I think I'll stay a bit longer than that.
(The REGULAR moves off Camera follows PRICE to an old station wagon at the curb. It is piled high with personal effects, clothing, and furniture. PRICE opens the passenger door, takes out a raincoat, puts it on, consults his map, and moves off down the street.)
EXTERIOR: BRADFORD LIBRARY. DAY.
A small granite block; cut into it, a five-point star, with the name “Bradford” on it, and the badge number 2121 and “Sacred to the Memory of Charles Hopkins, Chief of Police 1968-1987.”
MAYOR (voice over): What is a “good man"?
(Angle: The MAYOR on the steps of the police department, flanked by three uniformed officers; in the foreground, twenty or so townspeople. As he speaks, it begins to rain lightly and the townspeople begin to put up umbrellas.)
People might say, no man is quite as good, or quite as bad as he seems; but there is such a thing as a good man, and we were privileged to know such a man . . .
(Angle: The group of bystanders. A PRIEST listening.)
Charley Hopkins defined for me the meaning of Community Service, and, as I think he did for all of us, helped define the meaning of Community.
(A young man of eighteen walks in front of the PRIEST. They nod to each other.)
BILLY BATES: Morning, Father . . .
PRIEST: . . . Billy.
(BILLY moves out of the frame.)
MAYOR (voice over): Chief of Police, Past President of our Local Post of the VFW, active in Scouting, a grandmaster of the Masons. Many might say, those who did not know the Chief might say, “A joiner, a booster, a ‘babbitt’ . . .”
(Angle: The MAYOR.)
MAYOR: But who among us, does not have a Charley Hopkins story? Of the things he might have taught you . . . of a good word he put in for you, at school, to get a job, you never found out ‘til years later . . . I remember one time . . .
(Angle: The PRIEST. PRICE now comes into the group. It has started raining heavily. PRICE stands next to the PRIEST. We hear the MAYOR’S voice in the background, as PRICE and the PRIEST converse. The PRIEST motions for PRICE to come share the umbrella with him. PRICE demurs.)
PRIEST: . . . Come on, don't get yourself wet.
(PRICE moves under the umbrella with him.)
. . . our Chief of Police. Chief Hopkins.
(PRICE nods.)
One year anniversary, his death.
(PRICE nods.)
Hell of a thing. Good man. Very good man. Died last year. Hunting accident.
PRICE: Uh-hmm.
PRIEST: A hunting accident.
PRICE: His family here?
PRIEST: Didn't have one. Someone more poetic might say the Town was his family.
PRICE: Sounds like a rare man.
PRIEST: Yes. He was.
(Angle: PRICE and the ground in the foreground. The MAYOR, et cetera beyond.)
MAYOR: I have in my hand telegrams from twenty states, from police departments, from Chiefs of Police, and from Officers that Charley met on his travels, as part of his activity in the Law Enforcement World. I will read one . . . (He reads:) "Any officer is touched when a brother gives his life in the Line of Duty. What great example, also, of a man who gave his life to a life of Duty. We learned from him, and we will miss him . . .”
(The MAYOR concludes his speech and nods. The little groups start to break up in the rain.)
(Angle: PRICE and the PRIEST. Several people come up and say good-bye to the PRIEST.)
TOWNSWOMAN (to PRIEST): We'll never see his like.
PRIEST: . . . Mary . . .
TOWNSWOMAN: