Western Daze

Today's blog entry is a chapter from "Western Daze," one of my numerous books that may never get published, or even finished. The book is a (fictional) historical account of my hometowns of Kennewick, Pasco, and Richland WA - commonly known as the Tri-Cities.

Fictional, as the stories take place in the later part of the 1800s - twenty years before the town(s) were actually founded.

This chapter, entitled "The Nomination," takes place in May of 1889. In November, the Territory of Washington will be granted statehood, at which time the people of Washington will be allowed to send representatives to congress. Both political parties are meeting to select their candidate to run for congress.

Our story covers the local Democratic Party committee.

Dramatis Personae

• Arthur "Art" Coffey - town Sheriff
• Herbert "Herb" Miller - owner and operator (along with Mrs Miller) of the Miller's Mercantile (The town's General Store)
• Julius "Jay" McMinn - One of the town's attorneys
• Leonard "Lee" Johnson - Blacksmith
• Milton Freeman - Banker
• Robert "Bob" Green - Town's Magistrate and owner of The Silver Dollar Saloon

Members of the local Democratic party are meeting at The Silver Dollar Saloon, sitting at a table in the back room, chatting, smoking cigars and drinking whiskey.

The door opens, and Herb Miller enters.

HERB: Sorry I'm late.

BOB: Your right on time.

Herb seats himself in the vacant chair.

ART: How was your vacation?

HERB: Very nice, thank-you.

LEE: You were gone almost a month. Where did you go?

HERB: San Francisco. We were visiting with Ida's sister and her husband.

Bob pours him a shot of whiskey. Herb takes a drink.

HERB: Hey! This is some good whiskey.

LEE: It is good, isn't it?

HERB: Is it local?

BOB: No, It comes from Tennessee. It's made by a man by the name of Jack Daniels.

HERB: I've had jack Daniels whiskey before, and it didn't taste as good as this.

BOB: You probably had his old Number Six. This is his newest creation, Number 7.

HERB: It's very smooth.

LEE: I heard that he uses charcoal filtering.

ART: I heard that too.

MILT: Well, whatever he does, It is very good.

JAY: Hey, wait a minute! Milton, what are you doing drinking?

LEE: Yeah! Your a Baptist.

MILT: Only when my wife is watching.

BOB: So, I call this meeting to order. We only have one piece of business, and that's to nominate our party's candidate to run for congress for this district. Now, since this is the first time we will be directly represented in Washington D.C. we should nominate an upstanding member of our community with good morals and impeccable character.

LEE: Should he be a church goer?

BOB: That would help.

LEE: That rules me out, I guess.

ART: We rules you out at "good morals."

LEE: Funny, Art.

MILT: You know who would make a good candidate is Eli Peterson.

HERB: There's an idea.

JAY: Won't work.

MILT: Why not? Eli has been a good upstanding member of our community for as long as any of us can remember. He's trustworthy. He's friendly. He's courteous.

BOB: Sounds like your describing a boy scout.

MILT: He's perfect.

JAY: He's a Republican.

MILT: He is?

JAY: Yes, he is.

LEE: I've heard that the Republicans are planning to nominate him.

ART: I've heard that too.

MILT: Damn. He'll be hard to beat.



HERB: What about Tom Jenkins? He got a lot of good qualities, I think he'd make a great choice.

JAY: Won't work.

HERB: Why not? He practically founded this town. He a virtuous pillar of our community, a devout church goes, and he's a Democrat.

JAY: He's also dead.

HERB: He is?

JAY: Yep.

HERB: When did he die?

JAY: About three weeks ago.

LEE: While you were in San Francisco.

HERB: That's too bad.

BOB: It was a nice funeral

MILT: One of Reverend Jackson's best eulogies.

LEE : It was nice.

JAY: His whole family showed up.

LEE: Must have been four or five dozen of 'em

ART: I thought the widow looked very lovely.

HERB: Widow? What widow? Claire died in '78.

JAY: That was his first wife.

HERB: He got marries again?

JAY: Yeah, about three weeks ago.

LEE: While you were in San Francisco.

HERB: Who did he marry?

BOB: Catherine O'Conner.

HERB: That name seems familiar... Wait a minute! Do you mean Kitty O'Conner? The saloon girl at Miss Anita's?

BOB: That's her.

HERB: That old goat!

JAY: A moment ago he was a "pillar of our community."

LEE: And now he's an "old goat."

HERB: Tom was at least 60 years old ---

ART: Sixty-four.

HERB: --- and Kitty was twenty.

ART: Nineteen.

HERB: That old goat. So, what did he die of?

JAY: Weren't you listening? He got marries again, about three weeks ago.

LEE: While you were in San Francisco.

HERB: I heard that, but how did he... Oh. No kidding?

JAY: Yep.

ART: I rode out with Doc Thompson the next morning bring the body back for the funeral.

LEE: He died with his boots off.

MILT: The undertaker did an excellent job on him. The smile on his face was priceless.

ART: He had that smile on his face when we found him.

LEE: I bet he did.

HERB:Well, I suppose I should ride to the Jenkins place and give my personal regards to the widow.

"Miss" Anita
(c.1890)

ART: You don't need to ride out there. You can find her at Miss Anita's.

HERB: Why is she there? Tom had a lot of money, didn't she get any of it?

JAY: She got all of it.

HERB: Then why is she still working for Miss Anita?

JAY: She isn't working for Miss Anita. She bought her out.

HERB: No kidding.

JAY: Yep.

HERB: So, what is Miss Anita going to do now that she sold her business?

JAY: She's moving to Nevada

LEE: She's going to raise horses.

HERB: Horses?

JAY: That's what she was telling folks before she left.

LEE: Yeah, I heard her say that she was going to open a Mustang Ranch in Nevada.

ART: I heard that too.

HERB: Must be true then. Well, as successful as she was here, I'm sure her Mustang Ranch will be just as successful as her old business.

MILT: What about Nathan Burnside?

JAY: Won't work. He's a racist.

MILT: So is most of the district.

JAY: But he's extreme.

LEE: I heard he once refused to do business with a man because his last name was "Black"

ART: I heard that too.

JAY: We don't want to offend the colored folk.

MILT: And since when are we worried about that?

JAY: Since the got registered to vote.

MILT: They're registered?

JAY: Yep. Someone went around the district and talked them into it.

HERB: Must have happened while I was in San Francisco.

MILT: Who went and done that?

JAY: Reuben Goldbloom.

MILT: That @#$% Yankee carpet-bagger!

JAY: So we have to be nice to them.

MILT: For how long?

JAY: Just until the elections are over.

The 14th Amendment of the United

States prohibited any person who

"engaged in insurrection or rebellion"

from holding "any office, civil or

military, under the United States."

LEE: Jay, why don't you run?

JAY: I can't. I served in the Confederate army

LEE: Oh, yeah. I forgot.

BOB: That's going to disqualify quite a few possible candidates.

BOB: What about Myron Fankel?

Silence descended upon the meeting.

JAY: Bob, have you lost your mind?

To understand Jay and the rest of the committees reaction to Judge Green's suggestion, I need to explain who Myron Fankel is, or rather was.

Myron Fankel was the only child of Elmer Fankel, attorney at law, and his lovely wife Ethyl. As a child, Myron suffered from poor health, malaises and maladies (the result of a copy of Galen's Dictionary of Common Ailments and Ethyl's overly active imagination) and thus spent a good deal of time inside, engaged in reading and other structured activities devised by his protective mother, as oppose to going outside playing with other children. As a result, he became overly educated.

And an obnoxious know it all.

As a teenager, Myron managed to inject his presence (and his knowledge) into the business of everyone in town. Townsfolk dreaded his approach they way they would dread a crazed coyote.

They would have preferred the crazed coyote.

When he turned eighteen, his parents sent him to school back east for a few years (much to the delight of the town). It was hoped that this time away from his mother would help develop a more positive (less obnoxious) character. Sadly it did not, and Myron returned a much worse know-it-all.

And it got even worse when he passed the bar and began to practice law with his father.

JAY: Bob, have you lost your mind.

LEE: You're kidding right?

BOB: No, I am completely serious.

JAY: If we nominate Myron, we'll be the laughing stock of the district.

MILT: If we get him elected, we'll be the laughing stock of the country.

HERB: I'd rather nominate the dead guy.

ART: Can a dead person run for congress?

LEE: They vote in Chicago.

ART: I've heard that.

BOB: You are not considering the positive reasons for getting him elected.

LEE: Positive reasons?

HERB: What possible reason could you have for wanting that boy elected to congress?

BOB: Have you considered the fact that if he was elected to congress, he would be spending quite a bit of time in Washington D.C.?

Silence descended upon the room.

BOB: Instead of her in town, annoying us?

On November 5th, 1889, Myron T Fankel (D-WA) was elected by on overwhelming majority of voters in his district... which included 42 dead people ...to serve in the U.S. House of Representatives, a position he held until his death in 1923.