As long as I can remember there has been a Garden of the Month Club in Crockett. Unless there is a severe drought which makes water rationing necessary the lawns are lush and green. Flowerbeds are in full bloom and sidewalks are lined with the most beautiful flowers you can imagine. Each month in the Spring and Summer season an award is given to the proud owner of the yard judged to be the finest at the time. An article appears in the Houston County Courier recognizing the lucky recipient along with a photo of the property. A very nice sign is placed in the yard near the street so everyone passing by will know they are the big cheese, at least for that month.
Not far from my house lived an elderly man named Elwood Allbright. He was a widower and in failing health. I would see him around town in his big stationwagon, and be ready to flee if necessary. His eyesight wasn't good and most felt it was only a matter of time he might whack someone. He was a very nice man who talked to everyone and was somewhat of a local character.
Elwood was in no shape to take care of his yard, so he hired a local landscaping company to make some changes so he wouldn't have to worry about the upkeep. At the time this wasn't as common as it is now. Landscaping in Crockett back in the day was green grass and flowers and not much else. When the job was finished it was a topic of conversation around town and lots of people drove by to check out the results. To be fair it did what it was supposed to. The lawn was covered with gravel instead of grass, which was the point in the first place. There were some wagon wheels and pieces of driftwood scattered here and there as well as rocks of various sizes. It was so different by the standards of the time it resulted in a lot of jokes and comments.
To show you what a social life I had and how much there was to do in Crockett, even when I was a freshman in high school almost everyone know who was the current winner of the Garden of the Month. That was long before Facebook, so what else were we to do.
One evening my friend and neighbor, Steven Satterwhite and I were roaming the streets looking for something to do. We made our way to town, circled the courthouse square and started back home. We were walking since we were too young to drive. As we started down Goliad Avenue we passed the First Methodist Church. The parsonage was located next door, and there in the middle of a huge flowerbed was the Garden of the Month sign. We were in awe. Neither of us had ever been that close to it before.
Stephen and I both were pretty sick and twisted individually, but when we got together our demented thoughts seemed to link up. Almost instantly we had the same idea; steal the sign and put in the yard of Elwood Allbright! His landscaped yard was still drawing a crowd so it was up to us to give them something else to talk about.
It was dark and the yard was full of large trees so we weren't concerned about getting caught. I stood watch while Stephen stepped carefully into the flowerbed and removed the major award. Each of us grabbed an end and we began our journey of almost a mile to the residence we had elected to host the honor. We knew there would be some tongues wagging come daylight the next morning.
East Goliad Avenue had a lot of streetlights back then, and it seemed to us like there was more traffic than usual. Every few yards a car would approach from one direction or the other. Each time we would toss the sign on the ground and slowly move along. As soon as the car past by we would run back, retrieve the sign and continue on. It took us a good forty-five minutes to reach our destination.
We figured we could push the sign into the soft ground and take off quickly, but we hadn't accounted for the yard being covered in rocks. The sign didn't easily go into the soil, or go into the soil at all. It was apparent we would break it if not careful. In Crockett that might be a capital offense. We finally leaned it against a dead log and piles rocks around the legs. This was done between running and hiding in the bushes each time a car passed. After the mission was accomplished we both went home.
I didn't tell anyone about it and neither did Stephen. A couple of days later there was a picture in the paper of the sign in the yard of Elwood Allbright with a couple of lines about it being the work of some local pranksters. We did tell a few friends about it, but nobody cared. I say nobody cared, but the Garden of the Month people were probably upset.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
THE SEARCH FOR SASQUATCH
Okay, admit it, in the back of your mind you want to believe. Every
few years a new grainy video comes out to prove
the existence of a Bigfoot once and for all.
I want to see one, along with a ghost and a UFO full of little green
men. If I could step out of my house and
see a flying saucer touch down, the door open and all three of these entities
invite me to sit down and have a Diet Dr Pepper and a bag of Puffy Cheetos, I’d
be the happiest man on the planet. I’d
want to get a good clear shot of them with my digital camera to prove to the
skeptics it really happened.
Last month a friend of mine found a link on the
internet announcing the First Annual Sasquatch Conference in Cripple
Creek. I was excited! Surely a group of people who dedicate their
lives, or at least a lot of their spare time to the quest would be able to
provide some compelling evidence, and hopefully have some cool tee shirts for
sale as well. With high hopes we departed
for the high country to be convinced the Sasquatch is a living being and not
just a vague image in the mind of someone full of beef jerky and cheap whiskey.
The conference was set to run from 10am until
2pm. We arrived ten minutes early to
find six people there. We signed in and
were invited to camp with the group overnight and look for evidence in the
forest. Since we had to work the next
morning we declined. Twenty minutes
later the room was full. It was then we
realized the proper dress code for the event was camouflage outerwear with a
Bigfoot tee shirt. Many of the attendees
accessorized their ensemble with knives of various sizes. It was time for the festivities to begin.
The first speaker gave a slide presentation along
with a few short videos. He had made
several trips to a location along the Front Range where a sighting was reported
a couple of years ago. He pointed out a
possible footprint in the snow. It has
never been explained to me why a huge Sasquatch can walk for miles in the snow
and leave only one vague footprint.
The presentation was going along as I expected
when the speaker stopped on a picture of a group of trees thirty or forty yards
away.
He pointed to a shadow in a tree and said, “Here
is one of the several that were stalking me.”
Before I could digest that statement he pointed to another shadow and
said it was also stalking him. Nobody in
the room seemed to be the least bit surprised.
Later we found out broken trees in the forest,
especially small Aspens, are a sure sign of a Sasquatch in the area. A broken sapling snapped at a height of six to
eight feet is usually a dead giveaway.
After a winter of killing other animals and living
on a diet of meat, tree bark is a welcome change. The first speaker, the one being stalked,
displayed a picture of a huge tree on the ground and said it was likely done by
a Sasquatch looking for rabbits living in the root system. A Sasquatch with a bulldozer might have taken
it down, but it definitely wasn’t done by hand or paws.
There was a picture of a cave in the distance with
a lot of trees in front of the entrance.
He pointed out some dark shadows and proclaimed them to be a Sasquatch,
or maybe one of the dog men that are seen in the vicinity when there is
Sasquatch present. They are not as tall
as a Sasquatch, but hairy with a pointed nose and a tail.
They were created by tribal shaman hundreds of
years ago to fight the Sasquatch, but have since joined them. I’m not making this up.
As he was leaving the area on his final search he
was overwhelmed with a feeling of fear.
He became tired and unfocused, and after returning home he sat on his
porch and stared into space for long periods of time. I later learned this is a condition that is
telepathically induced by the Sasquatch onto humans. To the true believers it is known as being
sizzled. My wife is one hundred percent
human and she can give me the sizzle effect any time I make a mistake or
otherwise upset her, so it isn’t uncommon among our own species.
Having being sizzled, the brave hunter made his
way back to his jeep, only to find the Sasquatch had disabled it and removed
the rear axle. It is a shame there
wasn’t anyone around to get a picture of that.
A lady from the area showed us a handful of hair
everyone suspected of being from a Sasquatch.
I grew up around horses, and it looked amazingly like horse hair when a
tail got caught in a barbed wire fence.
The last half of the conference was conducted by
two men who have a close relationship with a Sasquatch family in a super-secret
undisclosed location here in Colorado.
When they sleep in their large outfitters tent the Sasquatch will poke
them through the wall during the night.
When they put food out for them in the forest, the next day it is
GONE! Who can dispute that kind of
evidence? What other creature would eat
food left out in the woods overnight?
I left the conference having been highly
entertained. Usually I leave Cripple
Creek broke and depressed. I can’t wait
until the Second Annual Sasquatch Conference. Hopefully next year a Sasquatch
will show up to sign autographs and pose for pictures.
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