Friday night and the deal was done. John had presented Jim at Smedlap's a check for the Indian and we owned him, free and clear.
The retail floor was finished. The poly coats had dried and we could walk on them and time was a wastin'.
Not being ones to waste anything, especially time, the wooden Cigar Store Indian had to be moved that night. Tom Clark had his pickup and we had a couple of young bucks, in the name of Mac Henry and Zach Szabo, to do the dastardly deed.
An appliance dolly was commandeered and we made a plan.
Gather about seven and pick up the prize.
As luck would have it, Mother Nature intervened and a frontal thunderstorm hit with a torrential downpour. Not wanting to get the Chief wet, we decided to wait until the rain stopped. Of course, Mad Anthony's was the closest shelter with an ample supply of booze so off we headed.
Mad Anthony's, across from Third Street Cigar, is a rather unique watering hole and a great place to go to wait out a storm. Of course, a few of the participants had a head start earlier at Smedlap's so Mad Anthony's was a bit of overkill -- if there can be such a thing (a couple of my ex-wives would agree).
In any event, around nine (2100 for us 24 hour clock enthusiasts) it was decided that the rain had let up enough that we could get "our" Indian.
Mac and Zack and a couple of others marched into Smedlap's with that appliance dolly. Folks standing around, including employees, were a bit taken back when the Indian was loaded and wheeled out in a not-so-ceremonious manner. The Indian soon found himself in the back of Tom's pickup and on his way for the three hundred foot trip to his new home.
Two minutes later the Indian had arrived at his new home. He was wheeled into the shop and placed in what will be his permanent home for many, many years -- just to the left of the staircase leading up to Big Jack's.
 |
| John Henry, Dave Webb, Randy Tucker, Tom Clark |
Earlier, I forwarded photos of the Chief to a couple of well known folks who know a whole lot about Cigar Store Indians. It was the general consensus that the Chief was from the 40's or early fifties, sometime, which would put him smack dab where we were aiming for an overall look of the Third Street Cigar.
Our own local historian of some repute, Jim Gregory, declared that the Chief was of the Miami tribe. Among the peoples known as the Great Lakes tribes, the Miami's occupied territory that is now identified as Indiana, southwest Michigan, and western Ohio until they were moved, by treaty, to Oklahoma.
So, Friday evening was one of those "events" in our short history.
The prior week had gone on with less fanfare than previous weeks. The retail humidor is, for all intents and purposes, finished and we are seasoning the Spanish cedar for our first cigar delivery next week from Oliva. The basement storage humidor is being cedar clad, with HVAC connected and he humidifier is ready to be plugged in.
Our CCTV security system is up and running in the main store and Big Jack's.
Of course, the cameras are not installed in the rear parking lot yet. Most of us park back now in deference and respect to the other shop owners on Third Street so as not to use parking that is needed for short term parking.
John Henry and a few of us gathered in Big Jack's last night for a night cap and a stick before heading home. When John left, he found his unlocked Jeep, occupied by a suspicious person who, it seems, was "rearranging his apparel" -- and, this fifty feet from the Waterville police station. Not being one to create a scene, John asked the man to remove himself from the Jeep, put his clothes back on and get the hell out of there.
The man complied after picking himself up off the ground on the other side of the alley.
Point being, never assume anything when it comes to your safety. Waterville is a safe town. This dude was drunk; but drunks can be dangerous. We have lighting in the rear as well as security cameras just as a precautionary measure.
The police station immediately behind us is no deterrent.
Fore-warned is fore-armed....
The week ahead has the mural for the retail shop being delivered and installed by Dyno Dave, of Neapolis, Ohio.
The punch list for the main building is dwindling.
We have hired an architect to draw plans for the back room. When we get a stamp of approval on those we will start construction and remodeling the "conference" room. We expect that process will take around four to five weeks from start to completion as all of the work is straight forward and all demo has already occurred.
Have a great remainder of the weekend folks. And, Happy Mother's Day...
Smedlap Effingtass immigrated from Slippery Rock, Georgia in 1793, just two hours ahead of the mob. He finally settled near the mouth of the Maumee River. It’s a matter of record, this is the only settlement Smedlap ever made. Young Smedlap immediately set up a still and was supplying hooch to the Indians. During the Battle of Fallen Timbers, General Anthony Wayne came upon Smedlap and his enterprise. Our hero, sensing an opportunity to make a contribution to his country and to make a few bucks, invited the General to sample his wares. And to this day, he is still known as Mad Anthony Wayne. In 1836 after many manipulations, Smedlap had salted away a bundle and so constructed the commercial building, later known as The Old Plantation, and as of late, The Governor’s Inn.
