The BlueGrass Festival
In the summer of 1978, a few enterprising town residents decided to hold a “bluegrass festival” in town. They advertised this as a weekend event throughout Anchorage and surroundings.
Several hundred people came, which of course swelled the town population by at least double if not more. Wagons were set up for music groups to play and a very large firepit was established on which a large grate was placed. There, over the two weekend days of the festival, large chunks of prime beef were slow cooked to provide large slices of barbecued beef to paying participants.
A row of porta-potties was set up to accommodate the crowd. Given the amount of alcohol being sold and consumed, this was a most necessary addition.
Sometime late Saturday night, after many festive rounds of music, beef, and beer, a local resident who preferred the quiet of the wilderness, took issue with the Festival sponsors. He left in a huff to return to his mining operation just south of town.
By the morning, he had walked his small bulldozer into town to take revenge upon the promoters. Still inebriated, he was able to mow down the whole row of port-potties before other locals were able to jump on him and remove him from his weapon of choice.
Fortunately no one was using the facilities at the time.
And we had left the party early Saturday after partaking of a fine slice of beef and some foot-stomping bluegrass music.
Several hundred people came, which of course swelled the town population by at least double if not more. Wagons were set up for music groups to play and a very large firepit was established on which a large grate was placed. There, over the two weekend days of the festival, large chunks of prime beef were slow cooked to provide large slices of barbecued beef to paying participants.
A row of porta-potties was set up to accommodate the crowd. Given the amount of alcohol being sold and consumed, this was a most necessary addition.
Sometime late Saturday night, after many festive rounds of music, beef, and beer, a local resident who preferred the quiet of the wilderness, took issue with the Festival sponsors. He left in a huff to return to his mining operation just south of town.
By the morning, he had walked his small bulldozer into town to take revenge upon the promoters. Still inebriated, he was able to mow down the whole row of port-potties before other locals were able to jump on him and remove him from his weapon of choice.
Fortunately no one was using the facilities at the time.
And we had left the party early Saturday after partaking of a fine slice of beef and some foot-stomping bluegrass music.