I knew all about the Tavern. I heard about it years ago as a kid. I took my father out that way in 1995. I told him we needed to stop and see the inside of the Tavern. He flatly refused. It was not out of any kind of disdain; he stated that he did not want to be carried back out on a stretcher. I had always heard that if you were not a logger and from that area, that is pretty much how you would leave that place. I went back out that way myself in the Spring of 2002. I myself thrived on managing adversity long before I went to work inside the fence. I talked to Ray outside and told him that I knew I had no right to be there, but that my father used to work for Weyco Twin Harbors years ago, and had surveyed a large portion of Weyco's land holdings in that area. I asked Ray if he knew a gent my father used to work with name John McMeekin, aka Oakville Johnny. I knew that McMeekin had worked for Saginaw Timber for some amout of time. Ray's eyes lit up and he said that he and Johnny used to go to school together as kids... in Oakville. So, Ray cordially invited me inside. I bellied up to the bar, and Ray told me that he was going to see how good I was. He showed me an old photo of a young lad sitting on a chopped out wooden tub full of tools, huge chain and various hooks and tackle, and asked me what that young lad would be called back in the day. I smiled and said, "Well I would usually refer to him in a more profane manner, but since some of these good folks might have sensitive feelings, I will have to settle for the 'Pig Fornicator'. The whole placed broke out in a good belly laugh. The faller sitting next to me was fit to be tied. He wanted to fight SOO badly that he was squirming in his seat, but his curiosity won the battle... for a while at least. We started talking about fishing at Fall River and picking up agates and petrified wood, then moved on to the old kids' TV shows. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and half growled: "Ya remember Crazy Donkey?". My response: "I sure do. He was on J P Patches, right?". My next-seat neighbor jumped off his bar stool, balled up his fists, and growled loudly: "Crazy Donkey was on BRAKEMAN BILL!". I didn't skip a beat. I replied, "You're right, and I feel pretty bad about missing that. I believe I need to pay the penalty". He replied, "YEAH! ....... Uh, what's the penalty?". I said, I believe I need to buy everybody a round of beer. Hey Ray. How much for a round of beer for everyone?". He counted it all up and gave me a number. I paid him and tipped him $5.00 and got a big smile of approval. He passed out the beer, the old faller next to me started to settle down. We had a little small talk here and there, and someone else said, "Hey, ya know, You're alright". I replied, I appreciate that. Truly. And I did. I went on to say, I wish I could stick around, but I'm running short on time. I have really enjoyed this". (I thought that was a very good note to leave on under the circumstances). I started easing toward the door, got a few seemingly sincere well wishes along the way, and when I opened the door to leave, I turned around and said. "I wish every one of you the best. Y'awl have a great day.
You could have heard a pin drop, and you could almost hear the jaws drop. I eased the door shut, and exited stage right.
Hey Mr. Wrench: Did you fish Fall River while you were there, or had that crazy turdhead already plastered 'no trespassing' signs everywhere?
