Catchy title, right? And the bizarre cover photo further piqued my interest. I decided I had to read this book, just to hear the rest of the story. It turns out, back in the Depression era unemployed adults couldn’t just sit around and surf the internet or play their Wii. They had to invent their entertainment. And this group of local men decided to create a game that would also serve their community: a two-week-long rat hunt. For fourteen days these gents captured as many rats as they could and posed for the photo at the hunt’s conclusion. This is just one of the tales, some true, others not so much, that underscore the deep value of community held by the residents of Walnut Creek. The book reads like your favorite uncle is sitting at the kitchen table telling you stories; the tongue-in-cheek prose suits the material of rumor and legend, and one can imagine whispered secrets and playful pranks happening among friends. Especially the story of the drunken cows. Or the banty cheese (it involves a rooster’s demise – you have to read it to believe it). My favorite was a story about a tramp: a man named “Trilby” earned so many friends that although he was originally buried outside the cemetery when he expired, people of Walnut Creek later included him into the community by moving the boundary fence. Another tramp, a beloved Holmes County regular with an intellectual disability, evoked Steinbeck : “On seeing fog rise from the woods one morning, he said, ‘the rabbits in the woods are cooking their soup.’”
The author’s description plunges you into an idyllic, pastoral setting of rolling hills and babbling brooks; through it you can reimagine the evolution of society from a need for roads and post offices to a need for bed & breakfasts. The comparative photographs placed throughout the book show the impact the tourism industry has had on the town’s structure and style.
I found this book very entertaining and informative, although sometimes the line between fact and fiction gets a little hazy. But that’s how it is with the best stories, isn’t it? At least I learned where Trail bologna comes from, and how they make the holes in Swiss cheese.
Claire Kandle
Local history