| Vintage Reading® Stories Heard Over The Back Fence
There's Many A Slip 'Twixt The Cup & The Lip
Adapted From A 1906 Account
By Rita Buday
May 2008 :: © 2008 Buday Books / Vintage Reading ® |
If the County could persuade someone to buy those 200 acres at the western edge of the City . . . and if those acres were properly developed . . . it would bring in more than enough tax money so the County would not have to keep raising property taxes again . . . and again ! . . . AND AGAIN!!
Every year for the past decade those 200 acres were offered at every Tax Sale. And every year for the past decade there were no takers for 200 acres of soggy, wet swampland that engineers said would cost at least $2,500 an acre--$500,000 or more--to drain before they were good for anything.
No takers that is, until this year's Sale, when a group of four investors bought the swamp for the token bid of Two Hundred Dollars--$1.00 an acre--on The Major's promise that he would "facilitate" having the State pay for drainage.
"How you figure the State will hold still for that?" Ed Smith asked.
"It's all in how the idea gets presented," The Major said. "Think about it--why shouldn't the State pay to reclaim a good chunk of its land? Wouldn't the State Treasury benefit from the improved tax base? Wouldn't income and sales taxes from people who lived or worked on those acres mean just as much to the State as they would to the County or City?"
Looking at it that way certainly made it seem logical. |
For the investors it meant putting up a total of $100,000. That included the token $200 bid, undefined "facilitating expenses," and The Major's fee.
Drained and bone-dry the land was worth at least $500,000, even on a bad day. For their $100,000 investment, they'd get that amount back, and make at least another $400,000 profit, free and clear--if someone else paid the drainage cost. It was a modest profit, you might say.
The four investors became business partners.
For years The Major was known in the right places as a likeable, easy-going sort , who had a bad habit of losing more often than not at his weekly poker and golf games with "The Boys" laboring at the Legislature. He also had a fine sense for how the wind was blowing on important issues of the day; he always knew which checkbooks were open to worthy recipients.
Still, nothing goes one way forever, so it's understandable The Boys were favorably inclined when their good friend who played bad poker again needed a bit of help with another project he had going. Of course, since they were in the public eye, they had to be very circumspect in how they helped The Major. Too many political "crusaders" and newspaper reporters blew everything 'way out of proportion, making trouble over the least little thing. The Boys had to avoid any appearance of impropriety. |
They and The Major were honorable, of course--each in his fashion--but if The Major happened to forget who had helped with his latest project, The Boys couldn't very well ask The Courts to remind him, could they?
So they wanted to know, up front, who held the money, where, payable when, and how?
The Major and The Legislature Leader visited Billy, a clerk who often did favors for the Members. "We need someone we trust to hold money that may belong to the Members. If you'd keep the money in your personal safe deposit box, there'd be no need for wild-eyed newspaper stories about funny stuff going on."
That evening, Billy wrote to is wife--"I'll have some money coming from another little job I'm doing for Legislature Leader and The Major. With that, and what we have saved, you can see if the little house you've always wanted is still for sale. It's been a long time coming, but we'll finally make it."
Monday morning, the machinery was set in motion.
A Bill was introduced to have the State drain the swamp. The newspaper designated to print official Legal Notices had a one-line mention of the Bill (buried in a string of "Roads Closed For Winter" notices. Other newspapers that wanted to curry favor with the Legislature Gravy Train printed The Boys' handouts that the Bill was "for the good of the people . . . overdue elimination of a serious health hazard . . . think how the jobs will boost our economy! . . . cuts taxes by broadening the tax base . . . brings home some of our tax money, and it's about time too!" With so many benefits, who could possibly be against it. It looked like smooth sailing and a done-deal by Friday. Oh, some taxpayer might start asking questions, but legislators knew how name-calling and public ridicule neutralizes and silences such minor nuisances. |
All day Tuesday, Billy didn't feel well; by late afternoon he felt worse. He sent his safe deposit box key to his wife with a note that said he was under the weather but expected he'd be OK by Thursday or so; otherwise she would probably hear from Legislature Leader or The Major.
At 2:27 a.m. in the dead of Thursday morning the Drainage Bill was well-hidden in a blizzard of Pork Barrel routine Bills. As usual, The Boys, asleep in their chairs, were rousted awake for Roll Call and to rubberstamp the stack without reading or questioning. Then the whole pile went to the Governor for signing.
Late Wednesday night, unknown to anyone, Billy had a heart attack. When the Legislature convened later Thursday morning, the news flashed around like a bolt of lightning--"Billy's dead and he's got our money!"
The Major telephoned Mrs. Billy with condolences and learned she had Billy's key to his safe deposit box. He told her Billy had been handling a very urgent matter for the Legislature; it had to be settled as quickly as possible. She told The Major she would meet him at the bank the next day--Friday--at noon. |
As The Major told how Mrs. Billy was coming with the key, Leader said The Boys were impatient. The deal was they were to be paid when Thursday's session was done. That meant now! Leader could hold off the Members until noon tomorrow, but if she didn't come--or didn't have the key--The Major better find another source of payoff funds to express his thanks and fast!, or Leader would tell the newspaper reporter the shocking! and shameful! story of how The Major tried to bribe Members of the Legislature! It was The Major's choice whether tomorrow's page one headline would read "Leader Flatly Denies Bribe Attempt" or "Leader Exposes The Major for Foul Bribe Attempt."
Mrs. Billy, the key, and a man The Major recognized as Judge "Throw the Book" Snyder met at the bank Friday noon. She said Billy told her how much in the box was promised to him, but he hadn't said who owned whatever else there might be in the box, so she asked Judge Snyder to supervise.
As she opened the box, The Major reached in front of her to grab the list of who helped with the Drainage Bill vote and how much each Member was owed. Saying he had no further interest, he flew out the door. |
Five minutes later he was in Leader's office, telling how close they all came to disaster, when the newspaper reporter burst through the door.
"Mrs. Billy didn't know what all the money in that box meant," he said, "but Judge Snyder had strong suspicions and so did I. Since there was nothing in the box to show who owned the rest of it, the Judge said Probate Court would probably rule the rest must have been Billy's too. Since she's his only heir, it'll all be hers as soon as the Court rules on it.
"It gave our wishy-washy Governor running for re-election, the backbone to veto that Drainage Bill and to order the Attorney-General to get the truth no matter how far he has to go! He's insured his re-election!
"I just finished calling in my story, and now Mrs. Billy's asking her real estate agent if the little house she always wanted is still for sale. I guess everything turned out OK after all."
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This is just a story . . . a work of fiction . . . of course. |
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