By BUZZ KING, guest columnist

The following items were passed to me by my father, Fred King, and later verified as true by Howard Voland. Here are the facts (or lack of) as relayed to me.

Sometime in those years (1930s), many of the local youth decided to play a prank on the town officials, county officials and the sleeping population.

First, I must tell you, that before electricity 24 hours a day (another story), the bell at the top of the courthouse which still stands today was the general alarm for fires or breaking news. If you heard that bell ring, you — and I mean all of you — came running. The faster that old bell rang, the bigger the emergency.

Four, maybe more, school boys visited one of the two livery stables in town, and in middle of the night, borrowed one of the mules boarded there. The guys led the mule to the courthouse outside steps. The steps are the very steps that are used — wait, not used — today.The rope which rang the bell dropped through the attic, the second floor and then the first floor. Just inside the front door on the first and second floor was the rope with a knot. They quietly led that mule up the steps.

Now, as any Brown County native knows, a horse, donkey or mule will go up steps just as easy as pie, but will not be led down those same steps. Because of fire threat, the doors were usually not locked. The mule was led in the door, whereupon the rope was tied to the mule by means of the bridle. They sat a bucket of oaks on the floor. (Along with the mule, the boys also liberated a bucket of oats.)

Well, they headed down the alley south, just far enough to still see the action, but not be seen themselves.

Each time the mule lowered its head to get a bite of those oats, the bell rang. The bell’s weight would pull the mule’s head up and ring the bell again.

Soon, the crowd gathered in the yard and had a good laugh — some did, anyway.

For some time, the ones who stayed tried to get that mule down the steps, and that worked about as well as — well, you know. Most of the night was spent trying anything to accomplish this. They finally tied off the mule, and the next morning, called Columbus and hired a crane at a hefty $180 cash. They blindfolded the mule to lead in onto the landing at the head of the steps. The rest is history!

I don’t know who cleaned the floor; that part was never passed along.

But wait, there is still more.

That worked so well, the boys came up with an idea which could be a topper. Time passed as they planned timing and supplies like ropes, ladders, etc.

The sheriff drove a older Model T Ford. As anyone who has flipped a Model T knows, they can be righted by three youth.

Well, there must have been 16 that night who quietly rolled the Ford to the east side yard and removed the wheels to lighten it by more than 200 pounds. Ropes were thrown over the roof, and as many as needed, hoisted the Ford up to roof level where it was secured to the bell tower by rope, and the wheels were taken up and installed, as slick as anything they had ever tried. The pitch of the roof was such as to allow all four tires to rest on the slate roof.

This time it was a weekend, which allowed more people to see and scratch their heads and discuss how they would have done it, if they had tried it.

Monday, the crane was called, same as before — except that when you have that many working on a project, word will leak and spread, and so it did! That group never tried any such thing again.

‘Til next time. — Buzz

“Buzz” King is a nearly lifelong resident of Brown County and past president of the Nashville Town Council. His father, Fred King, was the unofficial county historian.