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Yep, another one of those stories.
Darrell was getting the front hub apart so the ate-up U-joint could be replaced and his old man, who hangs around a lot during the winter when there's nothing much else to do, was sitting over by the fire. School finally started back up today, after nearly two weeks of shut down because of the snow, so Darrell's two kids packed off about the same time his old lady left for work. The kids were back in an hour though, because there were bad water leaks in their classroom and something about the heating system. Oh, Darrell's garage - where he makes his living - is back behind the house; this mechanicin' of his, its very much a "home business".
So, Darrell's working on the truck, his old man and me are sitting around (as is another neighbor who is apparently there just to drink morning beer with good company) watching, and now and then one of the kids comes running in raising hell about this or that.
Darrell says something about the god dam school house caving in and his old man grunts something in reply. All his old man does is grunt, but he does so in an artful way and you always know where he stands. I say its just as well that they are home because they weren't going to learn anything in that shithouse school anyway, and the old man grunts again - but not such a favorable grunt this time. Darrell ignores his old man's grunt and correctly identifies the root problem when he says 'you're probably right, they haven't done anything with that school since you went there (nodding in the direction of his father) and they haven't got any money to pay anyone to come teach either so what do you expect?' Any nobody said nothing for a moment and that should have been it, but them I shot off my mouth.
I said, "Shit, what do you expect? Of course the school is shitty, of course there's no money to pay the teachers. Ain't nobody around here taxing anyone to pay for any of it" By god that got a grunt or two. Darrell's old man "farms" now days. All that means is that he finally paid for his place before the black lung got him and he got out of the mines before the roof fell on his head. Nice enough guy, strong as a bull and a mighty hard worker, thrifty his whole life and never once - and I mean not one single time - has he ever cheated on his taxes or tried to bend the system to his own benefit. You tell this guy he ain't payin' his fare share of taxes and he gets hot.
So the old man's grunts could not go unanswered. And I was getting hot too, so I'll just have to paraphrase the rest as best I can. What I said to him was this. Who in hell do you think I''m talking about? Its not you. Its not you with your 200 acres or Darrell here with this little shop or me down that dam road with my little hilltop. What pays for the schools in this county? You know, I know, we all know (I just said this to make sure everyone in the room actually did know where the money came from) its property taxes. Its that couple of dollars per acre we pay, you and me and Darrell, and everyone else up and down this road that's supposed to pay for the schools. And who own's all the land? It's ain't you. It ain't me. It sure as hell ain't Darrell over there - which brings two quick snorts along with a particularly snappy grunt. Think about it, who owns this county? Who owns all the land? Its the rich ass coal companies and the god dam timber companies, that's who own's this county. As a matter of fact that is a true statement. Indeed, commercial interests do own considerably more acreage in this county than private landowners do, with two companies accounting for most of the land ownership.
So then I said it. "Look, if the school house if a 50-year-old pig sty with the roof is falling in, and if the teachers you can afford to hire are the bottom of the barrel and this whole mess is paid for by property taxes and the rich own all the property, then just who is it that's keeping your kids stupid? Jezzeuschrist, anybody ought to be able to see what's goin' on here."
$125 to replace a front end U-Joint on and old 4-wheel drive truck. Service while you wait and back home before ten in the morning; and I could have had a cold beer too if I had wanted it. I love living out in the country.
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