Excerpt from Satirical History of KENTUCKY
NEW “ALL-TOO-TRUE-BLUE” (ALTERNATIVE) STATE HISTORIES
TIME IMMEMORIAL – Paleo-Indians
It is surmised (wildly guessed) that Paleo-Indians lived In Kentucky a long time ago (even before Dan’l Boone).
“Paleo-Indian” is the new, politically correct way of saying “half-breed.” As is probably obvious, “Paleo-Indian” means “pale Indian,” which refers to someone who is half “paleface” (Caucasian) and half Indian.
Nobody knows how the Paleo-Indians got to Kentucky. Probably either on the Mayflower or by spaceship.
These half-breeds shared the land with mastodons, giant beavers, tapirs, giant ground sloths, giant air sloths, giant sea sloths, saber-toothed tigers, musk ox (oxen that wore cologne), and Duck-billed platypi. It was not an easy life, but it was a good life.
In this historical photo stolen from the Smithsonian Museum when nobody was looking, you can see the sort of accommodations the Paleo-Indians had in the early days:
1775 – Boone Blazes
In 1775, Daniel Boone blazed a trail through the Cumberland Gap.
You can “blaze a trail” in one of two ways: 1) You get a horse named Blaze, climb aboard, point his head in the right direction, make a funny noise with your mouth, and fall asleep, trusting your faithful steed to find the best trail, or 2) Fetch a box of Lucifer sticks and set the forest on fire, making it easier to see which way to go (after the conflagration subsides).
Boone used both of these methods, and ended up founding Boonesborough. Daniel named Boonesborough for his great-grandson Bob, who played professional baseball, and also for his great-great-grandson Bret, who followed the same profession after failing in his preferred career as a Wal*Mart greeter.
Here’s Boonesborough before it got any fast-food chains and such amenities:
1792 – Statehood
In 1792, Kentucky became a State. Most people (both residents and non-residents) didn’t care much one way or the other, though.
1811 and 1812 – New Madrid Earthquakes Uproots Trees
The massive New Madrid Earthquakes (reaching 7.9 on the Richter scale) started in 1811 and reached their apex in early 1812.
Since this event is covered in detail in the Missouri volume of this series (New Madrid is located in that State), not much is said about it here, except that western Kentucky was profoundly affected, with many trees being uprooted and squirrels becoming so scared that they started acting squirrelly (for the first time ever).
1816 – Lincoln Family Leaves Kentucky
In 1816, the Lincoln family left Kentucky for Indiana.
One of these Lincolns was Abraham, who had been born early in 1809 in a one-room log cabin at Sinking Spring Farm, south of Hodgenville, in Hardin County.
A self-portrait of said cabin is shown below, along with some other effluvia:
1838 – Mammoth Caves Struts Its Stala[ct,gm]ites
Mammoth Caves in central Kentucky began a new life as a tourist attraction in 1838 (prior to that, it had been mined for various minerals).
The Caves were named as they were for two reasons: 1) They were big (bigger than a bread-basket, anyway, the standard unit of measure of the time and place, and 2) Mammoth bones and tusks were discovered deep inside the cave.
The tourist attractors “salted” the mine cave with papier-mâché stalagmites and stalactites. Tourists were warned not to touch these phony features, with the claim that they would turn black, shrivel up, die, etc. if people touched them, but really the cave operators didn’t want anybody finding out that the stalagmites and stalactites were fake.
Here’s a thought bubble of this fraudulent place. What appear to a reasonable person to be giant paper wasp nests is really scaffolding used by the papier-mâché stalagmite / stalactite charlatans (photo made available by Daniel Schwen):
That guy getting photographic evidence of the fakeroo was captured by security guards, escorted away, and has never been heard from since. Never underestimate the underhandedness of cave tourist entrepreneurs!
1843 – Cassius Clay Survives Assassination Attempt
In 1843, abolitionist Cassius Clay survived an assassination attempt. This happened during a debate about horse-racing. A hired gun named Sam Brown shot Clay in the chest. Rather than clutching his chest and tumbling off the balustrade, though, Clay calmly (perhaps calmly, who really knows now) form-tackled Brown, asked him if he was ashamed of himself and what would his mama think about what he was up to, and finally threw him over an embankment (gently).
Here's Clay in a re-enactment of that droll event (this is the debate part, before things got testy):
1853 -- “My Old Kentucky Home” Song
Stephen Foster published his anti-slavery ballad My Old Kentucky Home, Good-Night! in 1853.
Mandolin-plucker (and Owensboro native) Johnny Dump secured the rights to all of Foster’s music, but allowed us to use this X-Ray of the sheet music that Foster himself printed on an old tintype phonograph:
1861 to 1865 – Kentucky Remains Unionized
At the start of the Civil War (Polite War), Kentucky attempted to remain neutral and waffled about which side they were going to bet on.
The waffling stopped when they were invaded by the South in 1861. Put out by this, and downright unappreciative of it to boot, Kentucky then chose to remain with the Union and kicked out the invaders.
1863 to 1891 -- Hatfield/McCoy Feud
Two extended rural families who lived on both sides of the West Virginia/Kentucky border area, along the Tug Fork of the Big Sandy River, went at it in what almost became a 30 years War.
From 1863–1891, the Hatfields and the McCoys feuded it up. Just like the Shepherdsons and Grangerfords in Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, after awhile nobody seemed to remember or really care what the ruckus was all about.
Here are some of the Hatfields in one of their annual family portraits; even the dog is on the lookout for a McCoy about to waylay the bunch:
1870s – Marshall Russell Fights the KKK
In Owen County in the 1870s, Ewe-Knighted States Marshall Willis Russell fought the KKK (the Kooky Klutzy Klowns), who were terrorizing the community.
Greatly outnumbered by the KKK in the area, Russell was almost killed by a mob of them in 1873; only “almost,” though, because federal forces arrived just in the proverbial “nick” of time.
Eventually, though, in 1875, Russell was killed one night by an assassin as he sat at home. Probably just a random act of violence.
1875 – First Kentucky Derby
In 1875, the first Kentucky Derby took place. This is an event where everybody wears a derby hat. It’s sort of a “costume party.”
Anyone caught wearing a stetson, a bowler, a ten-gallon, a stovetop, a panama, a beret, a yarmulke, etc. risks the wrath of the rowdies.
Even animals are not exempt from this prejudicial treatment. A horse named Aristide (get it: “Air of Steed,” a horse that runs so fast it seems to the passive observer as if he is running on air?) was the first non-human to win the “best hat in show” award.
One man who arrived hatless (not even wearing a skullcap), who gave the lame excuse that he “didn’t want to muss up his hair” was made the subject of a wanted poster:
1930s – Harlan County War
From 1931 to 1939, what became known as the Harlan County War was waged.
This was actually just a minor misunderstanding. Coal mine operators and owners, feeling a fraternal affection for the miners in their employ, offered to provide them with benefits (health, medical, dental, etc.).
The miners, though, considering this a form of communism, socialism, or some kind of “ism” that would cause a schism in their organism, refused to be patronized that way.
The miners and their Unions tried everything to make the owners stop being nice to them, but nothing worked. Finally, at an impasse, a series of “hug-ins” were held where the two sides took turns complimenting each other and giving each other hugs, in an effort to make the other side lose their patience and give in to their demands.
This finally worked, especially when the mine owners hugged the miners from behind while their “associates” aimed guns at them.
In this choreographed shot, a motormouth miner (technical term) is telling the photographer that he likes the “exciting” feeling of having no benefits:
1930 – First Kentucky Fried Chicken
In 1930, the first helping of Kentucky Fried Chicken was plopped onto a customer’s plate in North Corbin. He liked it. That’s what he said, anyway. He may have just been trying to be polite.
Anyway, Corbin is near the Cumberland Falls, which has an “Old Faithful” moonbow.
In 2019, actor (and native of Lexington) George Clue-Knee saw a moonbow at Cumberland Falls. He said, “Hmm. That’s kind of interesting.” This is what Clue-Knee saw:
Pay no attention to the light you see on the shore. It is just a fisherman’s lantern.
. . .
Each Saturday and Tuesday an excerpt of one State’s (satirized) history will be posted here, in alphabetical order (from Alabama to Wyoming).
For “the rest of the story,” the (32-page) complete book “The New All-too-True-Blue History of Kentucky” is available here.
The regions of the U.S. have been combined into volumes, too; [State] is included in the volume The New All-too-True-Blue History of the American Midwest
You can listen to this excerpt here:
Blackbird Crow Raven is also the author of the book “the Zany Time Travels of Warble McGorkle”