“Boomer” Winfrey

Varmint County Correspondent

While we’re waiting for the events of Varmint County’s female revolution to unfold down at the courthouse, this seems like a good time to pause and relate a little Varmint County history.

It has been four years since I last explained Varmint County’s foundations and the background behind some of the more “lovable” characters, and I’m sure many of our newer readers are curious as to how such a place could come into existence.

The first person to settle the valley of the North Branch of the East Fork of the Magpie River between McCracken’s Nose and Flat Iron Peak truly was the father of his county, literally speaking. Louis Lowe was a veteran of the Revolutionary War, a colonel in the Continental Army and an almost-signer of the Declaration of Independence.

Unfortunately, Louis was also a bit too fond of spiritual beverages. On the way to the signing from his farm in Virginia, Louis stopped frequently at taverns and inns along the way to celebrate the upcoming independence of America with a mug or two of ale or hard cider. About 40 miles short of Philadelphia he fell off his horse and broke his leg, missing out on his chance at immortality.

He was rewarded for his service in the Revolution with a land grant west of the Alleghenies, and about the time that George Washington was being sworn in as the country’s first President, Louis Lowe set out to settle his new lands.

He eventually ended up with two wives, one on each side of Cumberland Mountain, and fathered a dozen children with each. His wives remained ignorant of each other’s existence, as Louis was a hunter and trapper who often took off into the wilderness for weeks at a time, presumably to hunt and trap.

Louis would instead spend most of his absence from one family enjoying the comforts of home with his other family. To avoid complications from the wagging tongues of traveling peddlers, Louis pronounced his name two different ways. One wife was Mrs. Louis Lowe, pronounced Looie Lowe as in “cow.” The other wife was Mrs. Louis Lowe, pronounced Lewis Lowe as in “go.”

When Louis finally passed on at the ripe old age of 88, he left behind a total of two widows, twenty-three children, sixty-seven grandchildren and 132 great-grandchildren. By the time the state got around to organizing a new county a couple of decades later, most everyone in the area descended from one side of the Lowe clan or the other.

The citizens all gathered at Lower Primroy, the only community of any size, meeting in the Free Will Baptist Church to decide on a name for their new county. The two wings of the family almost came to blows as the “Go Lowes” and “Cow Lowes” argued about how the new county’s name would be pronounced.

Finally, Granny Alpharetta, Lowe’s great-grandmother, Trulene, suggested a compromise: “You all are acting like a pack of varmints! We ought’a just call it Varmint County and be done with it!”

And so, dear readers, Varmint County was born, out of desperation, to avoid a bloody civil war between Lowes and Lowes.

Not too long after this, the Hockmeyer clan moved into the area as well, settling in the hugged hills below McCracken’s Nose, a notable rock outcrop visible for miles. The Hockmeyers intermarried with both Lowe clans and within a few years became known for their fine corn whiskey.

The Hockmeyers got competition in the whiskey-making business from the Haig Clan. Boudreaux and François Haig migrated into these hills from the swamps of Louisiana, seeking good mountain spring water to cook up their special Cajun brew. The two clans kept a watchful but peaceful eye on each other until the outbreak of the Civil War, or as the Haigs called it, the “War of Northern Aggression.” 

The Haigs were loyal to the Southern Confederacy while the Hockmeyers, independent mountain folk who were indifferent on the subject of slavery, remained loyal to the Union and the feud was on. The two clans carried out a bloody feud for the better part of a century until the “Miracle of ’27,” when Moses Haig rescued the little granddaughter of Aaron Hockmeyer from a blizzard.

The two clans decided to make peace, but it was an uneasy peace, as many young Haig and Hockmeyer men had grown up with the idea that they had to prove their manhood by shooting at each other. Finally, elders Elijah “Big Poison” Haig and Caleb Hockmeyer came up with the idea of an annual free-for-all brawl, without weapons, to celebrate the two families’ legacies.

The brawl is held at the Varmint County Fairgrounds on the 4th of July, and quickly became the most popular spectator sport in the county as everyone shows up to watch the carnage.

Another settler who moved in shortly before the Civil War was Captain Jacob Jass, who served with General Nathan Bedford Forrest and refused to surrender when the war ended. Jacob entered into local politics, eventually becoming the County Judge, as did his son Cornelius. 

To honor his father, Cornelius Jass celebrated Thanksgiving each year, which he termed “Mr. Lincoln’s Holiday,” by shooting off an ancient, smooth-bore cannon in his front yard, running up the Stars & Bars on a flagpole and playing Dixie over a loudspeaker.

Years later, Cornie’s grandson, Colonel Hugh Ray Jass, who also became the County Judge, discovered a hidden room beneath Jass Manor. Old man Jacob may have fought for the Confederacy but he also hated slavery, and maintained a stopping point on the Underground Railway, smuggling escaped slaves to freedom in the North.

Colonel Hugh asked his grandpa why Jacob had been so loyal to the South when he hated slavery. “He jest didn’t like Yankees, I suppose,” was the old man’s only answer.

Another family with a long tradition in Varmint County politics is the Bandit clan. Sheriff Juliene Thaddeus Bandit, known more commonly as “Sheriff Smoky,” was the third Bandit to hold the position of High Sheriff of Varmint County. His grandpappy, the first Sheriff Bandit, also started a family tradition of giving girl’s names to his sons. “It will force them to fight while growing up and toughen ’em up,” he reasoned.

Smoky’s father, Sheriff Shirley Bandit, held the office for nearly half a century until he retired back in the 1950s. At that time he realized he had done too good a job of toughening up his eldest son, Connie, who was serving 30 years hard time in the state pen.

The job fell instead to Shirley’s second son, who had taken to using the nickname “Smoky” instead of Julie for obvious reasons. When the popular Burt Reynolds film came out back in the ’70s, folks began calling him Sheriff “Smoky T. Bandit” and the name stuck.

Other families also began to move into Varmint County after the war, as wealth gained from the mining of coal attracted a collection of Welsh miners, Philadelphia lawyers and budding entrepreneurs. The Aslingers, Filstrups, Pennywells, McSwines and Pinetars, to name but a few, all migrated into Varmint County during the boom times of the 1880s and ’90s.

From the early families and this collection of newcomers emerged the county’s political leadership. Old Doc Clyde Filstrup served as Lower Primroy’s mayor for around two decades and then retired to run the county’s political machinery from the comfort of his clinic. To this day, most crucial decisions are still made around the table at Doc’s weekly poker games in the back parlor.

Joining Doc at the table are Colonel Hugh, who finally retired after five terms as the county’s chief executive to take a seat where the real power resides. Sheriff Smoky, now also retired, is there, along with Archie Aslinger, Colonel Hugh’s longtime sidekick and drinking buddy. Archie has newfound status as a power broker since his daughter Gabby was elected County Mayor this past August.

Judge Hobert “Hard Time” Harwell is the only current office-holder who is a regular at the table, although Doc’s son, Clyde Filstrup Junior, was usually invited to play during his tenure as County Mayor. Clyde Junior was recently unseated by Gabby Aslinger, but remains a popular participant at the table because he always has a pocketful of money and, as Doc puts it, “Don’t know the difference between a straight flush and a toilet flush.”

Lawyer Philbert McSwine, marina operator Ike Pinetar, fire chief and reformed arsonist Stanley “the Torch” Aslinger and a handful of others join the gathering on occasion, as do I, your loyal correspondent for the Varmint County War Whoop & Exterminator.

When I moved to Varmint County to work at my first newspaper job for War Whoop & Exterminator publisher H. Harley Hamm, he gave me an extra fifty bucks each week to buy into the game so I could gain insight into Varmint County politics.

H. Harley ran into a little misunderstanding a few years later with the folks at the Internal Revenue Service and the newspaper office ended up being padlocked. It would have ceased to exist altogether, but office manager Fluvia Pinetar managed to print up a few hundred copies in her basement on an aging mimeograph machine for the next six months.

Finally, H. Harley’s daughter Virginia bought the printing presses and trademarks for peanuts at an IRS auction and the War Whoop & Exterminator emerged from the ashes, as did yours truly, who had been forced to clerk at Smiley’s Tobacco Mercantile to pay my rent.

Ginnie Hamm (She prefers that to Virginia for obvious reasons) has most recently been the inspiration behind the “Jones Girls Revolution,” named after old fire-eating union organizer Mother Jones, in which the females of the county have decided that the good ol’ boys have run things, and messed things up, for long enough. The upcoming year promises to bring no small measure of excitement, and amusement, as the new era dawns.