|
In
the early fall of 1978, four men and a dog entered the wooded hills of
Southern Vermont. 84 days later, their story shocked a nation, forever changing
our views on the dichotomy of ecology and human intervention.
We entered the building from the side street facing Main where the eyes
of curious strangers followed our every move. The line extended out the
door and we dutifully took our place at the back of the pack behind a
group of people discussing the politics of public smoking. Five minutes
later we were inside getting our hands stamped and on our way into the
show. We followed an old stone stairway leading to a subterranean tavern
that was decked out in mahogany from the floor to the ceiling. Lining
the walls were seats specifically built for little people, raised about
4 feet off the floor and circling the room. An already assembled group
of three dwarves were perched in the seats, lost in a conversation that
kept them all laughing uncontrollably while clinking very large beer
steins.
We slipped past a buxom hostess who offered us grog from a worn wooden
pitcher shaped like a vase, it’s steamy contents billowing into the
smoky tavern.
-
Unknown -
|
