Raven 1

by D M Barrett

  “I’ll do whatever you recommend, preacher. Let’s call this the PEP,” George Hickman said in an excited manner.

  “What’s the PEP?” the preacher asked.

  “That’s the preacher’s escape plan. I am fully supportive and will have a fake heart attack, so I don’t have to answer any questions immediately,” George Hickman promised.

  “I think these are basically good young men. They come from a good family. I believe these hard times have forced them into this desperate conduct. I will help them avoid serious injury or death. But I do not condone bank robbery and holding hostages and will not become an accomplice to your crimes. If you are apprehended, both of us will testify against you at your trial. Do you understand?” the preacher demanded.

  “Yes,” both young men said in unison.

  “Here’s my recommendation. George Hickman will go to the front door and yell, ‘Don’t shoot. We’re coming out!’ We will go to the back door, after George gets about 15 feet from the front door we will jump into your old truck and head quickly south toward Sparta. You can escape on the river,” the preacher instructed.”

  “How do you know we have an old truck parked at the side of the building close to the back?” Jake Dalton inquired.

  “He’s the preacher. The Lord told him. He works like that,” George Hickman said.

  “Indeed,” the preacher replied.

  “Okay, but what do we do after that?” Jake Dalton asked.

  “I can’t tell you in front of George Hickman. He’d be obligated to tell the authorities. If we get a head start, that won’t matter by the time he recovers from his so-called heart attack,” the preacher replied.

  George Hickman moved to the front door. When he got the nod from the preacher, he started yelling, “Don’t shoot! We’re coming out and opened the door slowly.” Once George had gotten about 15-20 feet from the bank door, he was swarmed by about a half dozen deputies who helped him take cover behind one of the patrol cars.

  During this distraction and confusion, the Dalton brothers and the preacher hopped into their old truck. The preacher pointed for them to take Highway 70 and briskly drive east toward Crossville.

  Jake Dalton, the driver, remarked, “You said that we’d be going to Sparta and take the river toward Nashville. Why did you change your mind?”

  “That’s what I said in front of George Hickman. That is what he will tell Sheriff Hankins. Two carloads of deputies will burn up Calfkiller River Road from Ferguson to Sparta to try and catch you. We’ll be solid gone before they realize we took an alternate route,” the preacher explained.

  “Just like a wild goose in winter,” Josh Dalton said with a laugh.

  “Where are we headed?” Jake Dalton inquired.

  “We’re headed to Highway 127 North to the Civilian Conservation Corps Camp at Cumberland Falls, Kentucky. It’s about 100-miles there, the preacher instructed. I know Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Shipman from the war. You will tell him that you got into a little trouble in east Tennessee and that Brother Thomas ‘Raven’ Mann, your preacher, promised that he would help,” the preacher explained.

  “Do you expect us to join the CCC?” Josh Dalton asked.

  “The choice is several years in the Federal prison or a few years enlisted in the Civilian Conservation Corps,” the preacher said firmly.

  “We’re ready to join up,” Josh Dalton replied.

  “We’ve got one problem, preacher,” Jake Dalton explained.

  “What’s that problem?” the preacher asked.

  “We don’t have money to buy gas for the 100-mile trip,” Josh Dalton interrupted.

  “I’ve got six one-dollar bills in my coat pocket. You can have them all,” the preacher offered.

  “Preacher, after we threatened to kill you, why are you helping us?” Jake Dalton asked.

  “In Old Testament times the Lord provided six cities of refuge in which perpetrators could claim the right of asylum to avoid punishment in cases of accidental manslaughter. The CCC camp is like an Old Testament city of refuge for you. Although no one was accidentally killed or injured, you attempted to commit a serious crime,” the preacher explained.

  “Are we going to hell?” Josh Dalton asked.

  “Not if you straighten up, complete your time successfully in the CCC camp with Colonel Shipman, and live like good citizens,” the preacher stated bluntly.

  “Won’t the law pursue us forever?” Jake Dalton inquired.

  “George Hickman doesn’t know you. Drusilla Hickman doesn’t know you. I only met you for the first time today. We were all so frightened that we can’t give thorough descriptions. In a few months the locals and the feds will lose interest in an attempted bank robbery that occurred without any economic or personal losses,” the preacher opined.

  “Where do we leave you?” Josh Dalton asked.

  “You can drop me off a few miles before you get to Crossville and Highway 127 North. You can tell me that your plans are to escape to the east and hide in the mountains in upper east Tennessee,” the preacher instructed.

  “You said we were going to that CCC camp near Corbin, Kentucky,” Jake Dalton said with a puzzled look.

  “Don’t be stupid, Jake. We’re gonna change our minds after the preacher gets out. He can truthfully tell the law what was the last thing discussed before we dropped him off on the roadside.”

  “Preacher, are you naturally crafty or does the Lord help you with this kind of stuff?” Jake Dalton asked.

  “Jake, it’s only important that I know the answer to those questions,” the preacher said with a smile.

  Shortly before reaching Highway 27 North, the Dalton brothers dropped the preacher and made their way to Kentucky. The preacher walked down Highway 70 toward Crossville and was able to hitch a ride on one of John Lester’s Produce Company’s trucks.

  When he arrived in Ferguson, the feds were there investigating the scene. They interviewed the preacher who told them he’s never seen the pair before the incident, and the last he heard was they were going east to hide out in the mountains of upper east Tennessee.

  George Hickman was tight-lipped about the incident after he recovered from his so-called heart attack. It all happened so quickly that Drusilla remembered very little. Since there were no injuries and no loss to Harriman Bank, the ordeal was forgotten within about six months.

  The preacher never heard from the Dalton brothers again. About two years later, he received a letter on official CCC letterhead. It was from Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Shipman and addressed to First Sergeant Thomas Preacher Mann. It read: Your recruits have successfully completed a two-year tour with the Civilian Conservation Corps and have been honorably discharged. Both of the men have opted to join the U.S. Army. It was signed Sincerely, Lt. Colonel Cameron Shipman.

  Until he received the letter from Colonel Shipman, the preacher often pondered whether he had followed the proper path relative to the actions of the two young men.

  When the preacher read the Colonel’s letter his mind immediately recalled a portion of an old gospel song called ‘Redemption’:

  “And the blood gave life

  To the branches of the tree

  And the blood was the price

  That set the captives free.”

  17: Hoochie Coochie Man

  Until the early years of the Great Depression, Ferguson had hosted one of the oldest and best county fairs in the state of Tennessee. Due to economic hardship and a greatly declining population, the event was discontinued in 1934.

  Given the recently improved economic conditions in Ferguson, an increased population, and the advent of The Mountain Excursion, the business people of Ferguson wanted to bring back the county fair to Ferguson.

  A meeting of the Ferguson business owners resulted in the appointment of Sheriff Hankins, Jack Wright, Miss Rosie, and Miss Stoner to the Ferguson Fair Board. The preacher was appointed chairman of the board.

  The preacher was a non-voting member of the board unless the g
roup was split two members against two members. In such a case, the preacher’s vote would be the tie-breaking vote.

  When he learned about the reinstitution of the Ferguson Fair, George Hickman recommended Floyd Baxter Amusement Company to host the fair. The carnival group for years had hosted the Roane County Fair in Harriman, Tennessee.

  The Ferguson Fair Board agreed and entered into a contract with Floyd Baxter’s group. It wasn’t long until the news hit The Mountain Gazette.

  Local businesses sponsored flyers, newspaper advertisements, and the Smith Brothers even pitched the upcoming event on their Friday Frolics broadcast on WNOX-AM in Knoxville.

  Everything seemed to be advancing nicely until Miss Rosie heard some disturbing news about the Rhea County Fair in Dayton, Tennessee. She immediately summoned the preacher for a serious discussion of the situation.

  Once the preacher arrived at the Bed & Breakfast, Miss Rosie unloaded on him about what she called the ‘goings on’ at the girlie show there.

  “Now preacher, my cousins from down in Rhea County stopped by for a short visit yesterday and told me all about the licentiousness and debauchery taking place at that hoochie coochie show at their fair,” Miss Rosie said in an excited tone.

  “What type of ribald conduct did they describe?” the preacher asked.

  “Young girls were parading around wearing nothing but underwear, undulating and gyrating their bodies to hoochie coochie music, and displaying themselves on the stage in a way that appealed to the prurient interests of the local men,” Miss Rosie explained.

  “Where was this done?” the preacher inquired.

  “I told you it was at the hoochie coochie show at the Rhea County fair,” Miss Rosie replied rather insistently.

  “Was it in public view? Was it performed to a general audience? Or was it a private show? I need to understand more about this girlie show,” the preacher responded.

  “Does it matter? Isn’t it enough that the carnival barker is publicly tantalizing the local men and enticing them to enter that den of iniquity? Shouldn’t it be banned for calling attention to situation that makes children ask questions?” Miss Rosie asked indignantly.

  “Miss Rosie, I understand your concerns. I will talk to the other fair board members and share your concerns with them. It is likely that I’ll have to call a formal meeting,” the preacher offered.

  “Get busy, preacher. That bawdy, degenerate show will be here in less than two weeks,” Miss Rosie said.

  The preacher was quite puzzled by Miss Rosie’s outrage about the burlesque show. After all, it was about two years ago when she transitioned from running a cathouse to operating a successful Bed & Breakfast.

  “What’s up, preacher?” Jack Wright asked as the preacher entered the discount store.

  “Miss Rosie’s temperature,” the preacher replied.

  “What’s going on?” the shopkeeper asked.

  “Miss Rosie heard about the girlie show going on at the Rhea County Fair and she really has got her hackles up,” the preacher said.

  “Sounds like my old hound dog when he trees a raccoon,” Jack Wright observed.

  “I can tell you she’s dead set on eliminating the burlesque show from our county fair this year,” the preacher explained.

  “We’ve signed a contract that specifically approved a burlesque show on the midway. If we break the contract, Floyd Baxter may not show up,” Mr. Wright lamented.

  “It gets worse. Floyd Baxter may sue the fair board, the sponsoring merchants, and the city, in the event of a breach of contract,” the preacher warned.

  “We need to have an immediate meeting and get this resolved quickly,” Jack Wright instructed.

  “We’ll set a meeting for 4:00 pm today. You notify Sheriff Hankins. I will drop by the schoolhouse at lunch and tell Miss Patricia Stoner,” the preacher replied.

  “Do I need to do anything else?” Jack Wright inquired.

  “Get that newspaper man there at 4:00 pm. He’s definitely got a dog in this fight,” the preacher reminded.

  At almost noon the preacher stepped into the schoolhouse. He was immediately noticed by Miss Stoner who told the children that they were excused to eat their lunches.

  “Brother Mann, I doubt that you’re here to deliver good news. So let me sit down before you tell me,” Miss Stoner said as she sat down on one of the long school benches.

  “It’s bad but not terrible, Miss Stoner. Miss Rosie got some salient information about the burlesque show at the Dayton fair and she’s on the warpath against one on the midway at our fair,” the preacher said.

  “There’s been a girlie show at the county fair since before I was born. It’s a sideshow that is really enjoyed by the men and mostly tolerated by the women,” she explained.

  “As I left, the last description of the show she mentioned to me was ‘bawdy and degenerate,’” the preacher replied.

  “Wow! After running a cathouse for some twenty years, I can't believe she would consider a county fair girlie show that offensive,” Miss Stoner remarked.

  “There’s a fair board meeting at 4:00 pm today. We need you to be there to help address the situation,” the preacher instructed.

  “I’ll be there and I’m supportive of the burlesque show,” Miss Stoner said with a determined tone.

  After speaking with Miss Stoner, the preacher believed that the fair board would vote 3-1 to take no further action with regard to the girlie sideshow. The preacher found out that the two sides were polarized beyond reconciliation.

  Sheriff Hankins and Miss Stoner were totally in favor of the burlesque sideshow. Miss Rosie had enlisted Frankie Wright to shore up Jack Wright’s vote against the hoochie coochie show.

  Once the dust had settled, the vote stood at two members in favor of continuing with the sideshow and two members against continuing the sideshow.

  Recognizing that he was thrust into casting the deciding vote, he immediately recalled an Old Testament verse that said, “Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision: for the day of the Lord is near in the valley of decision.” The preacher reasoned that he was in the valley of decision and the day was very near.

  Realizing that he had to try to defuse a very tense situation, the preacher stood and said, “There are several accounts of where the hoochie coochie dance had its origins. But the place of the original hoochie coochie show was at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair on a stage that called itself the Streets of Cairo.

  A dancer called Little Egypt did a middle-eastern style belly dance to music from that area of the world. Since then, county fairs have seen smaller and larger versions and variations of the original performance.

  I am advised that this kind of girlie show has been at the county fair here since its beginning. It is a tradition here and at other fairs including the nearby Roane and Rhea County fairs. Nevertheless, I take seriously the concerns of two of our board members: Miss Rosie and Mr. Wright.

  Therefore, I request a board resolution that authorizes me to attend the burlesque show at Dayton on Saturday. Further, I ask that Sheriff Hankins accompany me and that together we interview the Rhea County Sheriff about his experiences prior to me casting a deciding vote on this issue,” the preacher explained.

  “What if the Floyd Baxter sideshow has worsened and can’t be tolerated in this area?” Miss Rosie asked sternly.

  “We will talk to Mr. Baxter directly and try to negotiate an acceptable result that will avoid litigation,” the preacher promised.

  Miss Rosie sponsored the resolution. It was seconded my Miss Stoner. It was passed on a 4-0 vote.

  After the meeting, Sheriff Hankins teased the preacher: “I guess I’ll buy your ticket. We can’t have our preacher dropping money to go to a girlie show.”

  “Indeed,” the preacher said with a sigh.

  * * *

  It was about 65 miles from Ferguson to Dayton. The preacher and the sheriff left early on Saturday. They wanted to interview the Rhea County sheriff and check out
the Floyd Baxter midway both before and after dark. Additionally, they wanted to experience the so-called Midnight Rambler show.

  The sheriff’s patrol car traveled down Highway 127 from Crossville to Pikeville where it reached the edge of the Appalachian Mountains. They followed the very curvy mountain road toward Dayton, Tennessee.

  “Preacher, what do you know about Rhea County?” Sheriff Hankins inquired.

  “I know the obvious things like geography and population. Historically I know that it was the site of the 1925 Scopes Monkey Trial where Clarence Darrow defended and William Jennings Brian prosecuted John T. Scopes for violating Tennessee law forbidding the teaching of evolution in public schools,” the preacher said.

  When the pair arrived at the Rhea County Sheriff’s Office, Sheriff Walker immediately came to the parking lot to meet them. He was a pleasant man with a strong handshake.

  The men made their way into Sheriff Walker’s office. He directed them to be seated.

  “Preacher, Sheriff Hankins says that you’ve got more troubles than a three-legged dog with fleas,” Sheriff Walker chuckled.

  Smiling, but slightly ignoring the comment, the preacher asked pointedly, “Sheriff Walker, what has been your experience over the years with Mr. Baxter’s hoochie coochie show?”

  “My first experience was at age 15 and my last experience was last year’s Rhea County Fair. I found it more exciting at 15 than I did at 55,” he replied as both lawmen broke into serious laughter.

  “No doubt,” the preacher said as he rolled his eyes.

  “In all seriousness, it’s a girlie show. The girls wear skimpy next to nothing outfits and wiggle to the music. It is for men. It is rather ribald but does not violate any laws regarding indecency,” the sheriff explained.

  “Is there any organized opposition to the show?” the preacher asked.

  “We get complaints about the barkers. We get a few complaints about the barkers calling children’s attention to the sideshow. Sometimes the costumed girls’ lining up on the outdoor stage causes some heartburn, but most people either like the show or ignore it. Not many people really get too upset about it. Hoochie coochie shows have been at this county fair since before the war. It is part of the culture,” Sheriff Walker explained.