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Chapter 26
June, 1987
After a three day weekend, the new house was starting to show signs of getting into shape for Mike and Kirsten, although there were still dozens of boxes that were strewn around the room, stacked in the front hall, awaiting unpacking. Mike had already had a big
bonfire of used boxes, just to clear out some walking area, and they were beginning to see that there was a new home under all the clutter.
The bad part of having a three day weekend to move was that they were bone-tired when Tuesday rolled around. Tuesday was the big day around the Record-Herald, and on any given week they were busier than they wanted to be on Tuesdays. What made it worse
was that Webb didn't like to screw up the normal mailing schedule, so normally, the plan was to gut it out and stick to the normal schedule, accepting the loss of Monday. Usually, the staff put in extra time late the week previously to give them a running start following
three-day weekends, but Mike and Kirsten had been so busy with preparing for their move, so they were even farther behind than they would have been any other time.
The pile of mail that Tuesday morning was huge; there was a lot to sort through. Kirsten found a stack three times it's normal height, the collection of Saturday, Monday and Tuesday's mail. Only about one in three of the letters involved advertising, and all had to be
gone through carefully.
She came across an envelope that contained a check and classified ad copy. The ad read, "Piano for sale, like new, console piano. Excellent condition, nothing down with good credit." There was a 1-800 phone number, and the check was drawn on an out of state bank.
Once upon a time, she would have just pitched a suspicious ad like that; the chances were good that it was a scam. But, a couple of times there had been complaints, and Webb hated to turn down money, so they had worked out a compromise. The classified ad file in
the ad department's computer contained another ad, one the paper ran for free following every questionable ad: "Sound too good to be true? It probably is. We urge you to read `amazing' offers carefully. Never give your credit card number over the phone. For more
information, contact the Better Business Bureau in Camden, 1-800-555-1212."
It had made a big cutback in the numbers of questionable ads. Kirsten smiled; she'd seen ads from these bozos before. Apparently, they hadn't gotten the message yet. On the margin of the ad she wrote "Pd -- use BBB ad following", and put it in her outbasket.
The next envelope was marked "Legal Advertising," and came from the Fish and Wildlife Service in Minneapolis. This also was nothing new; they got a legal from the Fish and Wildlife Service about four times a year. She opened the copy and read the cover sheet:
"Ad must be at least 4 inches wide, type not less than 12 point."
"Bunch of ripoff artists," she snorted. The ad would have to be charged by word count, since it was a legal, but putting it in a box with that type size would mean that they'd get less than the normal space rate. Before she even looked at the ad, she wrote in the margin
of the cover sheet, "2 col, 12 pt. Squeeze." That would help a little. That done, she glanced at the ad itself, and involuntarily cringed when she saw the headline:
PUBLIC NOTICE
Gibson's Water Snake
She really didn't want to read any farther, but sort of wondered why the Fish and Wildlife Service was sending out this ad at all, so she skimmed on:
"The U.S. Department of the Interior, Fish and Wildlife Service, (Service), has set deadlines for receipt of comments and requests for public hearings concerning a May 27, 1987 Federal Register proposal to declare an interim area of critical habitat in Spearfish County
for the Gibson's Water Snake (Nerodia sipendon gibsoni), an endangered species under the Endangered Species Act of 1973. The revised deadlines require that requests for public hearings be received by July 14, 1987, and comments and related information be received by
July 24, 1987. Requests for public hearings and comments from all interested parties should be submitted to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, Division of Endangered Species, 1 Federal Drive, Minneapolis, Minnesota, telephone 612/555-3267. Additional information can be
obtained from the above address."
While Kirsten may have been in the advertising business, she'd been around newspapers even longer than Mike had, and this had the smell of something that he might be interested in. She got up from her desk with difficulty; the baby and all the work this weekend was making her back really hurt bad this morning, but once she was on her feet, it was only a few steps into Mike's office. "Mike," she asked. "Have you ever heard of a Gibson's water snake?"
"I wouldn't know a Gibson's water snake if it crawled out of the bathtub drain in front of me," he laughed. "What makes you ask that?"
"We got this in the mail this morning," Kirsten said, handing Mike the ad copy.
He read it through quickly and commented, "I never even heard of a Gibson's water snake, but that's fast work for the Fish and Wildlife Service. I wonder what's happening?"
"Did you get a release on this from them?" Kirsten asked.
"I got something from the Fish and Wildlife Service, but most of what they send out doesn't concern us much, so I pitched it," he said. "Maybe I'd better dig through the wastebasket."
Kirsten went back to her desk, taking the ad copy with her, while Mike dragged the wastebasket around the corner of the desk. It took a couple of minutes to find the envelope from the Fish and Wildlife Service, still unopened. He opened it quickly, with a pair of scissors, but inside found nothing but another copy of the same legal ad. He wrinkled his nose. "Typical government. No 800 number," he said to himself. He knew if he called them, he'd spend half an hour on hold, and not come out any wiser than he'd been before. What he would be was half an hour further behind schedule, and facing a bitch from Webb about the phone bill.
The next best thing was to call Don Kutzley, over at the city office. That was almost as bad, since Kutzley was a talker, but he was going to have to be contacted this morning on a couple other issues, anyway. Might as well get it over with, he thought, dialing the phone.
The snake was about the fifth item on the list of things that Mike wanted to talk to Kutzley about, and he was pretty tired of hearing about the latest twists in state and federal politics by the time they got that far. "Hey, Don, last thing," Mike said, butting into a discussion of the Iran-Contra politics. "We got a legal this morning from the Fish and Wildlife Service, saying that they want to declare some area in Spearfish County a critical area for some endangered species of snake. You know anything about that?"
"Let's see, I got a letter on that somewhere," the city manager said. Mike could hear papers rustle while Kutzley made more comments about Oliver North. "OK, here it is," the city manager said. "You got the public notice, right?"
"Yeah. Something about a deadline for public hearings."
"There's a cover letter," Kutzley said. "You get that?"
"No, I didn't," Mike said. "Just the legal."
"Here's all it says," Kutzley told Mike, "`Dr. Frank Gerjevic of Athens University has notified the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service that a tentative identification of a Gibson's Water Snake has been made in the Spearfish Lake area. The Gibson's Water Snake is a critically endangered species, a subspecies of the Northern Water Snake. A critical interest area is being proposed for segments of Spearfish County, which includes the City of Spearfish Lake.' Brilliant deduction, huh?"
"Took a real genius to figure that out," Mike agreed.
"It goes on about public comments and public hearings and like that, same as in the legal."
"Well, that tells me more than I had," Mike admitted. "You going to do anything about it?"
"I suppose I ought to drop them a note, and find out what this is all about, but it probably doesn't mean diddly."
"Probably," Mike said. "Let me know if you find out anything. How in the hell do you spell `Gerjevic'?"
As expected, getting Kutzley to quit talking state and national politics took a while; finally, Mike had to break in, "Hey, Don, I got a call on another line. I'll get back with you."
It had been a waste of time all around; there was no story on the other issues, and Kutzley hadn't been able to add a whole lot to what Mike already knew. But, it was more than he'd started with.
Mike frowned at the few words of the legal, and his couple of notes from his conversation with Kutzley. It was going to be tough to make a story out of them, but it was the sort of thing that at least had to be mentioned, in case it turned into something. Mike swung around to the computer, opened a new file, tagged it "SNAKE", and beat out a brief story.
"Let's see, what's next?" he said to himself. "Road Commission, I guess." It would be boring as sin, but he realized that maybe he'd better give some attention to the Road Commission now, so he'd be in a better position to whallop them over the condition of the road, if it came to that. That damn thing was getting worse every day. No wonder Mark and Jackie called it "Busted Axle Road".
