Week 28: Vandals at the boat dock

There were so many wonderful things happening in the Peril County community on and around the 4th of July. The county’s fiscal court was sponsoring a day of music and food and then caped it off with a brilliant fireworks show. The Wildlife Society was hosting a nature hike, featuring birdwatching, wild crafting and an afternoon of fishing at Plucks’ Waterfall. Peril County’s Women’s Club planned a bake sale and craft show in City Park to raise funds for their Thanksgiving Food Drive. And the Chamber of Commerce sponsored a logging event where folks get to show off their skills throwing axes, sawing logs and climbing poles. There was always something to see and do around the 4th. But WEKT producer/reporter Jaclyn Perez wouldn’t be covering any of those wonderful events. She wouldn’t even be putting together the newscasts and prepping the shows for air. No, Jaclyn, fresh off of amazing reviews and national attention for her story on the long-term effects of opioids on children, was being sent to the boat dock to cover another round of vandalism.

Lake Beaumont wasn’t the biggest body of water in the region, but it still attracted a ton of visitors from other states this time of year. Cars and trucks with Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois tags with boat trailers or jet skis usually lined the parking lot at Beaumont Boat Dock. And the 4th of July weekend was always the busiest. Over the past few years, instances of vandalism had increased at the dock, with a strong anti-Appalachia slant. “Pill-Billy” and “In-Bread” were currently spray painted across the main wall of the marina facing the water. Last year, security cameras were installed and signs posted, but the graffiti artists were undeterred. 

Jaclyn drove her station vehicle out of town and out towards the lake. It was a good half hour to get from the center of Black Grass out to Beaumont Lake Marina, so the young reporter made the most of her time by listening to books on tape. Since coming to the region, Jaclyn had made it a point to explore Appalachian Literature, seeking out local artists where she could. She was currently listening to a Silas House book on her phone and reading a Robert Gipe novel at home. Growing up in Boston, Jaclyn’s background differed completely from that of the people she covered here in Peril County, so she wanted to hear stories told in local voices so that she could better understand her new home.

She blinked and tilted her head. “Home?” she thought. It had never crossed her mind that Black Grass and Eastern Kentucky could ever be her home, but the more time she spent here, the more she felt like this was where she belonged. Being the granddaughter of first-generation immigrants, Jaclyn appreciated the importance of culture and heritage more than most of of her fellow journalism students, she had noticed. And the people she had encountered here in Peril County and the surrounding communities had really touched her in ways she couldn’t quite explain. Of course home was with her parents and her abuela. But she thought, this place she now lived could become a home in time.

The noonday sun was blasting down as she pulled into the grey parking lot. Most of the spaces were filled, but she noticed Deputy Trevor Collins motioning for her pull the EKT vehicle along the curb next to the parked cruiser. “You doin’ alright today?” the Deputy asked as Jaclyn climbed out of her car. 

“I think I could find a better reason to make it out to the lake. How are you?” 

Deputy Collins placed his hat on his head and started walking toward the marina, motioning for Jaclyn to follow. “Been worse. I hate this heat. And these damn northerner’s comin’ in here makin’ a mess ain’t helpin’ nothin’.” 

Jaclyn, being a woman of a darker complexion, couldn’t help but frown at the use of the word “northerner” by the young deputy. It had no racial undertones, at least she didn’t feel any. But any time a southern accent spews a word like “northerner” with that much venom, it was hard to take. “I’m a northerner, you know. Born and raised in Boston.”

Deputy Watts’ eyes grew large in their sockets. “Oh, that’s not what I meant at all. It’s these a-holes from Ohio and Indiana who come down here and act all better than us. Use our lakes and our ATV trails and leave all kinds a garbage and shit behind. Besides,” he said, grinning playfully. “Don’t that make you more of a Yankee?” 

“As a lifelong Red Sox fan, I find that statement horribly offensive!” They two shared a laugh as they walked on into the marina. 

Inside the facility, they found slanderous markings covering the entire 30 foot wall. “F-U Hillbillies!” “Sister F’er” “Meth Mouth MF’er” and more tasteless taunts were spray painted across the side of the building. “Anything on the feed?” Jaclyn asked, pointing up to the security camera mounted to a light pole. 

Deputy Collins shook his head. “S’not workin’, apparently. Hannah at Judge’s office said that the grant they got to put them in didn’t have anything for repairs and they’ve not been able to afford to get them back up and running.”

Jaclyn spent the next twenty minutes gathering footage of the marina, showing the vandalism damage to the bathrooms, the broken light fixtures used to illuminate the pathways from boats to land and, of course, the graffiti. “Any solid leads?” she asked.

“Me and McElroy canvased all the boats and campers set up here first thing this mornin’, but nobody’s saying anything. There’s a group of boys stayin’ with one a their mom’s over in the cabin. Hate to profile and all, but if I had to lay money on it, I’d go with them.” Collins looked toward the cabin on the far side of the marina and frowned. 

Jaclyn could feel the young deputy’s unease about the whole situation. “Why don’t I go and talk to them. Maybe get the mom to agree to be on camera?”  

Collins nodded, and the two walked on to the cabin. The deputy rapped on the door and a woman in her mid to late forties opened it. She was dressed in a two-piece bathing suite and a bath robe. Giant sunglasses covered the majority of her tan and weathered face. A lit cigarette hung from her lips loosely. “Can I help you?” she asked, scornfully, looking down toward Jaclyn and Deputy Collins. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Jackie Perez and I am a reporter for the local TV station. I was wondering if I could bother you for an interview about the vandalism that occurred at the marina last night.” Jaclyn was pouring on the reporter charm, trying to convince this woman to talk. 

The woman in the cabin glared over to the Deputy. “What’s he doin’ here? You think we had something ta do with all a this?” She was defensive and perturbed. 

Jaclyn shook her head, smiling. “Oh, no ma’am. Deputy Collins is just here showing me the damage and walking me around. Right, Deputy?” She looked over at Collins, her eyes pleading for commitment. 

“That’s right, ma’am. Just showing her around the site. That’s all.” 

The woman in the cabin took a long drag from her cigarette. “Well, we didn’t see shit. The boys was playing on their video games there all night and I was in bed by like ten. So, I don’ knows what’s to tell ya.” 

Jaclyn shifted her feet a bit. “Well, maybe you could give us your perspective on why you visit Lake Beaumont and what you think about the area?” she offered. 

“Listen,” the woman in the cabin said, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow, “We just come to dis here podunk town because a my boyfriend gettin’ a good deal on this cabin. He wanted to get out a the city and fish and I tol’ him I wasn’t coming unless we had room for all a the boys. I told him there’s a dozen spots between Cleveland and here we coulda stopped. But he had ta save a buck!”

Jaclyn could feel Deputy Collins tensing up beside her. “Well, I appreciate that ma’am. If you see or hear anything, please let the Sheriff’s office know. And if you want to say anything on camera, here’s my card.” She handed the woman in the cabin her business card. “Didn’t catch your name, ma’am.”

“It’s Penelope Palsgrave. Probably one a these local a-holes did it, you know. They don’t know their head from a hole in the ground. Most of ‘em so doped up or too stupid to come in from the rain. Ain’t got enough sense to get out a this Hell-hole, that’s for damn sure.”

Deputy Collins took a step forward, about to speak. But Jaclyn held him back gently with one hand and looked back to Ms. Palsgrave. “It was very nice to meet you. Let me know if you change your mind about being on camera.” Jaclyn smiled as the woman closed to door to the cabin. She and Deputy Watts walked back toward the marina. “What do you think?” she asked.

Collins scratched behind his ear. “I think she’s a real piece of work!”  

The reporter scanned the area. “Any other leads?”

“McElroy said there’s some guy camping out on the other side of the lake. He’d have a clear view of the dock. Might be worth checking out.” 

Across the lake, Jaclyn and Deputy Collins found a small campsite with a fire pit, two-person tent and a dog tied up to a nearby tree. The smell of oatmeal and marijuana was strong in the air. “Hello?” Jaclyn asked as they approached. A young man in his late twenties exited the tent. He had dark, curly hair that hung past his ears that was held back by an orange, green and black headband. He wore a lemon yellow tank top and pink bike shorts with open-toed sandals. “Well, hello there,” he said nervously after seeing a deputy and a person carrying a camera enter his campsite. 

“You doing alright today, sir?” Deputy Collins asked as they approached the camp. 

He nervously tossed his backpack into the tent and stood up, fidgeting. “Um, yeah. Sure. What can I do for you guys? Officer? What can I do for you both?”

Jaclyn stepped forward a little. “I’m Jackie Perez with WEKT, the local TV station. I’m here doing a story on the vandalism that occurred overnight. Just wanted to see if you saw anything.” 

The man ran his fingers trough his hair. “On no. Yeah I saw that this morning when I went down there. Super sad, right? But, no, I didn’t see anything.”

The reporter took a step forward. “It would be really helpful if you could tell us what happened. Or even just how damaging it is to have someone do something like this to these facilities.”

“Listen, man. I’m just camping out, ok? I just came here to do my thing and not be bothered and not bother anybody. Ok? I don’t wanna mess with no one and I sure don’t want no one messing with me.”

Deputy Collins cleared his throat. “Sir, I can detect the use of marijuana in the vicinity and that presents probable cause to examine your camp site. Is there anything you would like to tell us before I commence to searching your tent?” Jaclyn dropped her head and tried to hide a smile.

The whites of the man’s eyes glared out on his face. “Oh, now, there’s no reason for that, deputy. I think I remember seeing some kids running around over there around eleven or so. It was dark and I’m, like, across the lake, but I could make out some boys, like whooping and yelling and stuff. Couldn’t tell what they were doing, but they were out there.” 

“Would you be willing to come down and make a statement?” the deputy asked.

He swallowed, hard. “Like, um, to the police station? Right now?” 

“That would be ideal, yes.”

“Give me like, ten minutes and I’ll meet you down there. That ok?” He was nervously running is hand along the side of his shorts. 

“We will meet you at the marina and I’ll follow you into town, Mr…?”

“Harker. Bernie Harker. Give me, like ten, and I’ll be down there.”

Jaclyn and Deputy walked back to the marina. “You got enough for your story?” Watts asked.

“I can make do. Thanks for the police escort around the docks today. I really appreciate it.”

A smile grew across Watts’ face. “My pleasure. You comin’ to the fireworks in the park tonight? I’m working the gate until it’s over. Be nice to have someone to talk to if you’re not busy.”

Jaclyn matched his smile. “First funnel cake is one me.”