Or. The wood wars of Clausen county
Well the way the mullet smokers tell it. It was over a patch of ground at the bottom of Clausen Mt. Now I can tell you that I have heard other versions. Just that nobody tells it like they do. His thumbs hooked into his suspenders. “Mike tells it true“, says he. So matter of fact in its declaration that it took on a certain credibility. Along with the fact that no one really knew the story of the BBQ wars. Kind’a left it a moot point, so to speak. That is, as far as it’s taking on credibility.
Getting back to the BBQ wars. The patch of land in question was bigger than a patch as the smokers tell it. According to Steve a mullet smoker with a large huge belly and skinny spindly legs, it was about 10 acres. As luck has it. It was the premier wood used in smoking. For some in Clausen county it was the only wood fit for smoking great BBQ. Needles to say, according to the time honored rule of supply and demand. For some, it was priceless. Hear tell the antagonists in the whole melee lost some precious kin over this premier wood. There was at one time enough for all. Then those gas operated wood tree cutter downers appeared on the scene. What followed made the feud between the Hatfields and Mc Coys look like diplomatic discourse. For most part of a week the smoke houses on the mountain were smoking. Too bad that they were providing the fuel for the smoke from that patch of land that no one owned. But everyone claimed. Every darn smoking and BBQ contraption ever devised or bought by perusing in the Sears and Roebuck mail order catalogue was in use the day before the tragedy. The woman folk, hear tell had just about enough of it and the men coming home feeling no pain.
Now you want to know the end of the story. I am getting to it. But first a bite of my smoked brisket KC style. Just like in Queens, on a hero or what is close to a hero. Or, as close to something that is shaped like one. Ok so they ended up burning everything down. Who, you may ask, could be involved in this disastrous wave of arson. No one knows or will tell. Because in the end the “patch of precious wood” went up in smoke on a clear Sunday morning. The weekly paper in town just reported the patch of the woods that was so very important to all as going on fire. Destroyed and bulldozed away. A parking lot was built on the site. But no one parked there. No one ever found out for sure who did the dastardly deed of clear cut arson. Steve then said in that knowing way of his. Standing by the smoker and checking his BBQ. His hat went back on his head as he adjusted the peak. Then with a pause he said, “the Butler did it“.
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