Boomer Winfrey 

Varmint Co. Correspondent

The great McCracken’s Peak blaze started when one of the numerous moonshine stills on the flanks of the knob exploded, setting the forest afire, and spreading into Haig Hollow.

The great McCracken’s Peak blaze started when one of the numerous moonshine stills on the flanks of the knob exploded, setting the forest afire, and spreading into Haig Hollow.

The Christmas season has come and nearly gone here in Varmint County and it has been a memorable one, to say the least. Most events went off without a hitch. Chloe Haig’s plans to turn the Dead Rat Tavern “respectable” was a big success when the annual Toys for Tots party brought in a record take of nearly $10,000. 

Men and women who had never set foot in the bar before showed up to see Beer Barrel the Bear dressed as Santa Claus. B. B., as Chloe calls him, even let some of the children cuddle up to him as he discovered a newfound love for candy canes instead of beer.

The annual Christmas parade also went off without any mishaps. County Mayor Gabby Aslinger served as grand marshal, and in a surprising gesture of holiday good will, invited her political arch-rival, Clyde Filstrup Jr., to sit beside her on the float as co-grand marshal. Clyde did, at one point, let out a couple of profanities when some of the kids threw the candy he had tossed back at him, bouncing one off his nose.

“Steady Clyde, they’re only kids – and future voters,” Gabby counseled. Clyde quickly let his grimace spread into a big smile and the incident passed without much hoopla.

But the holidays were also marked by a near-disaster when the long, dry summer turned into a drier fall. The predictable springing up of wildfires here and there in Varmint County’s mountains kept the state forestry folks and local volunteers busy throughout much of November, but it wasn’t until the first week of December that the real stuff hit the fan, so to speak.

It happened when one of the numerous moonshine stills on the flanks of McCracken’s Peak exploded, setting the forest afire. The blaze, stirred by a stiff wind, quickly spread downhill, burning 3,000 acres of woodland as it engulfed several other stills, resulting in several massive fireballs on the mountainside.

Fueled by the explosions, the fire quickly spread further into Haig Hollow, with Elijah’s mansion and his large “Spring Run” distillery squarely in the path. Stanley the Torch Aslinger brought his Lower Primroy Fire Department over, along with as many volunteers as could be mustered. Among those joining the fight were Caleb Hockmeyer and most of the young Hockmeyer men, their century-long feud forgotten.

“Where do you want me to station our pumper trucks?” Stanley asked Elijah Haig, “Over there near the distillery?”

“Ferget the distillery,” Elijah yelled over the din of crackling trees and screaming firefighters. “Save Granny Haig’s log cabin.”

Sure enough, the matriarch of the Haig clan had refused to leave her 150-year-old cabin. “I was borned here and I aim to die here, boy,” Granny replied when Elijah begged her to move to safer ground.

As it turned out, Stanley’s pumper trucks weren’t needed to protect the distillery. Elijah had already put in a call to the Pentagon and shortly, a dozen U. S. Air Force C-130s loaded with firefighting foam were dumping their loads right on top of the distillery and Elijah’s big house. Other planes dumped water on the spreading blaze and in the end, most of Haig Hollow was spared from destruction.

The one casualty was Granny’s outdoor privy. A burning tree toppled over on it before anyone could take action, and the privy went up in flames. “Well, boy, that old privy don’t mean near as much to me as the house I was born in. It’s been turned over, burned up and smashed more than once on Halloween and I always had it rebuilt,” Granny chuckled.

When the smoke finally settled, most of the county was still more or less intact, although the Haigs did lose several stills and a few isolated cabins up in the hills. Christmas approached, and a sense of normality began to set in when another near-tragedy occurred.

It was at Doc Filstrup’s weekly poker game. Everyone was chiding Clyde Junior about riding shotgun with his political rival in the parade, and Doc had just dealt the latest hand of cards. Retired Judge Hugh Ray Jass picked up his cards, took a glance and choked. Hugh Ray then crumpled over and fell across the table, a royal flush trickling from his limp fingers.

“Heart attack!” Doc cried as he stumbled after his office defibrillator. Hugh Ray had the good fortune of having a heart attack at a doctor’s clinic, and within a few hours he was slowly recovering at Burrville Medical Center.

A week later, Doc, Clyde Junior, Archie, Judge Hard Time Harwell, Pothole and Sheriff Smokey all showed up at Hugh Ray’s bedside, where they quickly rolled in an examining table and set themselves up for a few hands of poker.

“Thought you might want to play out your hand, Hugh. Here’s your royal flush and we’re all holding the hands we had that night when you collapsed.

“Well thanks, guys, but it’s not quite the same, seeing as how you all know what’s in my hand. You’ll just fold when I raise the pot,” Hugh Ray muttered under the oxygen mask covering his face.

“Yeah, we’re your friends but we’re not fools,” Doc replied. “But at least you can say you once drew a royal flush on the deal in five-card stud.”