The Case of Gatewood and the Missing Pig

You might want to watch who reads this, not because it has anything really bad in it, but because of the subject. It might require some thoughtful explanation to younger readers.

This story took place in 1991, at a campaign rally for Gatewood Galbreath. Gatewood, if you will recall, was a stoner candidate for any office he could file for in Kentucky. He started out, though, by reaching for the highest office in the state, Governor. (Pun is intentional) His first try came in 1987, I think, and he made no effort to hide the fact that he was a user of the "weed”. During his first campaign, for instance, he was followed from downtown Lex to the airport by some reporters for the Lexington Herald Leader, and was photographed passing around a "funny cigarette".

In 1991, around the end of the spring semester at U K, my senior year, Gatewood was again trying for Governor, and had set up a fundraiser/smoke-in at the Natural Bridge State park just south of Lex. The purpose was to get a bunch of stoners together for an all-night concert, openly break the law against possession and use of pot, etc, and hopefully raise some campaign cash.

I was a political science major, and when word got out, a few of us decided to go 'round and see what took place. It was pretty much what you'd expect, sort of a Kentucky version of Woodstock, with a lot of haze around the event, and that was more than just the smoke coming out of the cars parked all around. Lots of the occupants of the cars had a hazy look about them, as well.

Gatewood was there, looking as happy as a stoner can, who may have taken too much of his favorite self-prescribed medicine, and was engaged in talking to anybody who approached him, blissfully ignorant of the events that would transpire that night.

In the meantime, a pig, sort of an honored guest, I suppose, was busy cooking in a pit bar-b-que, and was to be the main course at a dinner scheduled for the next day at around noon. Well, you know the thing about munchies, and at around three in the morning, the smell of that by-now cooked-well-enough pork got to be too much for all the hungry partiers. A few crafty individuals came up with lots of paper plates, and spoons, and something to parcel out hunks of hot pig flesh, and believe you me, there was no shortage of takers.

In short, by the time morning rolled around, there was nothing left of that day's main course but some bones, and a faint aroma of bar-b-que. Oh, and a lot of happy, well-fed aficionados of Mary Jane.

Funny thing, Gatewood's people failed to see the humor in the situation. The next morning, as the events of the previous night came to light, they went around all the cars demanding an explanation for this outrage. All they got in response was loud, rude laughter, and implausible suggestions as to what they could do with their investigation.

Imagine, if you will, their consternation. This cause celebre was lost. Not only was there no pig dinner that Saturday, they didn’t get much money, either. Most of the attendees needed what little cash they had for their favorite girl, Mary.

As for me and my friends, we literally rolled on the ground as we watched Gatewood’s people trying to piece together the puzzle of the missing pork bar-b-que. In fact, we laughed for at least a week, every time we thought about it. I still get a chuckle out of this, lo these many years later.

At least we now know one reason why poor Gatewood could never get hisself elected to any political office: This details all to clearly what many have long suspected, Gatewood ain’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.