“Boomer” Winfrey

Varmint County Correspondent

IT’s not often that goings-on in our nation’s capital get much notice, or have much effect, on Varmint County. The county resolved the last crisis of loyalty, back in 1861, by refusing to align with either North or South.

In a special convention called by the county fathers after the Southern Confederacy fired on Fort Sumter to kick off the Civil War, twelve Haigs voted to join the Confederacy, thirteen Hockmeyers voted to remain loyal to the Union and the other 212 males attending the gathering voted unanimously to secede from both the nation and the state and declare neutrality.

The results were unfortunate, but predictable. A company of Confederate cavalrymen rode into Lower Primroy and burned the Varmint County Courthouse. The locals quickly set about rebuilding the structure, which didn’t take much effort since it was constructed of logs and pine pitch to begin with. Eighteen months later, a regiment of Union infantry marched through Lower Primroy and burned the replacement courthouse.

This led Varmint County to abandon neutrality and declare war on both the Confederacy and the Union. The only Civil War skirmish of any note to occur in Varmint County soon followed when a wagon containing the payroll for General Ambrose Burnside’s entire Union army, escorted by a company of cavalry, cut though the county to avoid marauding Rebel guerrillas.

At the base of McCracken’s Nose, a formidable rock outcrop visible for miles, Rebel guerrillas ambushed the Union paymasters. No records exist of which side won the skirmish, as neither the Union cavalry nor the Rebel guerrillas were heard from again.

Since the $10,000 in gold coins also vanished without a trace, historians concluded that whichever side won the battle, the survivors made off with the payroll and skipped to Mexico, but another possibility existed.

Miraculously, after the war ended Varmint County was finally able to replace the two log courthouses that had been burned with a fine two-story marble and sandstone edifice, paying the stonemasons and carpenters in hard cash. When asked where the bankrupt county had come up with the money, Cadius Lowe, the County Judge at the time, simply replied, “War reparations.”

But back to the present day, our nation is now struggling with answers to the political gridlock in Washington and the effect that the so-called “sequester” will have on the economy, national security and local jobs.

Last week, County Mayor Gabby Aslinger called a courthouse meeting of various officials, business leaders and influential citizens to gauge the effect of the budget sequester on Varmint County.

She first addressed Elijah Haig, elder of the Haig Clan, about potential military cutbacks.

“Elijah, you sell the Haig’s spring run corn liquor to the Air Force as a jet fuel additive. Have you heard anything about losing the contract?”

“Well, a feller from the Department of Defense called me yesterday and said they’ll be cutting the next order by 60 percent and we should prepare to cut our production.”

“So, you’ll lose some revenue and have to lay off some of your nephews, I take it.”

“Nope. We got a waiting list of over 2,500 people wanting a gallon or two of our spring run liquor. Since the Air Force started buying it up, folks have had to wait up to two years for us to fill their orders, so this will give us a chance to catch up.”

Gabby then turned to School Superintendent William Ulysses (Will U.) Reade, asking, “Will, is the school system expected to suffer any cutbacks?”

“Well, they’re cuttin’ back on pre-school funds and federal programs but that won’t effect our school system.”

“Why not?” 

“We don’t qualify for any of the federal programs because too many of our high school students are over the age of 18, and the Haigs and Hockmeyers home school their kids until third grade, so we don’t have enough students in pre-school.”

“Don’t you mean 21 instead of 18?”

“Twenty-one? No, we don’t have any students older than 21, that would violate the state’s athletic eligibility requirements.”

“Umm-hmm. OK, no effect on our schools. Ike, what about Mud Lake, will the Army Corps be closing any of their recreation areas?”

“All of them, Gabby. The Corps of Engineers plans to shut down two campgrounds and three picnic areas on the lake,” replied Ike Pinetar, operator of Mud Lake Marina.

“Will that have an impact on tourism?”

“Yeah. I’ll sell fewer hotdog buns at the marina store when families can’t use the picnic areas.”

“So it will hurt your business?”

“Not really. I’ll also sell more beer since there won’t be any security guards at the picnic areas to enforce no-drinking rules.”

“Sheriff Potts, are you going to lose any law enforcement grants?”

“Well, Gabby, we might lose the grant that pays for school security officers.”

“We’ve got school security officers?”

“Constable Lem Clotfelter has been serving as the security officer at Varmint County High School.” 

“Wait. I thought Lem Clotfelter taught woodworking and metalworking shop?”

“He does, but he’s also a constable, so we’ve been paying him as a security guard.”

“How does he provide security?”

“Lem’s teaching the boys in shop how to make replica muzzle-loading muskets. They carve maple stocks and order the metal parts from Dixie Gun Works, put ’em together and trim them out.”

“That’s security?”

“Sure. Then the boys test their muskets out down at the soccer field and get in a little target practice. Trust me, anybody’s got in mind to come down to the high school looking to cause trouble will think twice when they see a group of students target practicing.”

“So, I’m guessing the answer is, if you lose the federal grant, Lem will have to go back to being paid to teach shop.”

“Yep. Right now he’s using that salary to buy the muzzle loader parts.”

“Any other negative effects on our county if the federal government cuts their budget?”

“Yeah, the Division of Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms will probably close their Burrville office and lay off their agents.”

“How would that have an impact on us?” Gabby asked.

“No more revenooers!” Caleb Hockmeyer replied, with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

“There’s also federal highway funds,” Road Superintendent Peavy Perkins cut in. “If they freeze highway funds, that slide on the Interstate won’t get repaired before the spring rains come and they will probably have to shut down the highway and divert traffic onto Cowpen Road and around through Stinking Creek.”

“How can we maintain that run-down gravel road to handle interstate traffic?” Gabby asked.

“Already got it covered. I asked our State Representative Toony Pyles to introduce a little bill down at the legislature designating Cowpen Road as a toll road. Gonna cost travelers fifty cents to travel that five mile stretch of road and eighteen wheelers will pay a buck-fifty.”

“So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. If the federal government freezes or cuts their budget, Varmint County makes a profit off a toll road, the Haigs are able to fill all the back orders for their corn whiskey, Ike Pinetar sells more beer, the Hockmeyers can stop worrying about ATF agents and our security guard will stop helping students build and fire guns at Varmint County High.” 

Heads nodded in agreement and Gabby concluded, “Varmint County once seceded from the country and declared its independence. Looks like nothing much has changed in 150 years.”