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The Wild and Free Pigs of Okefenokee Swamp

Discussion in 'Politics, Elections & Legislation' started by Brian in Oregon, May 18, 2013.

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  1. Brian in Oregon

    Brian in Oregon Well-Known Member

    Jan 29, 1998
    Deplorable Bitter Clinger in Liberal La La Land
    Haven't posted this in several years. With all the entitlement handouts for votes by President Foodstamps, it's worth reposting.

    The Wild and Free Pigs of the Okefenokee Swamp<br>
    by Steve Washam<br>
    based on a telling by George Gordon

    Some years ago, about 1900, an old trapper from North Dakota hitched
    up some horses to his Studebaker wagon, packed a few possessions--
    especially his traps--and drove south.

    Several weeks later he stopped in a small town just north of the
    Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia.

    It was a Saturday morning--a lazy day--when he walked into the general
    store. Sitting around the pot-bellied stove were seven or eight of the
    town’s local citizens.

    The traveler spoke, "Gentlemen, could you direct me to the Okefenokee

    Some of the oldtimers looked at him like he was crazy.

    "You must be a stranger in these parts," they said.

    "I am. I’m from North Dakota," said the stranger.

    "In the Okefenokee Swamp are thousands of wild hogs," one old man
    explained. "A man who goes into the swamp by himself asks to die!"
    He lifted up his leg. "I lost half my leg here, to the pigs of the

    Another old fellow said, "Look at the cuts on me; look at my arm bit

    "Those pigs have been free since the Revolution, eating snakes and
    rooting out roots and fending for themselves for over a hundred
    years. They’re wild and they’re dangerous. You can’t trap them. No
    man dare go into the swamp by himself."

    Every man nodded his head in agreement.

    The old trapper said, "Thank you so much for the warning. Now could
    you direct me to the swamp?"

    They said, "Well, yeah, it’s due south--straight down the road."
    But they begged the stranger not to go, because they knew he’d meet
    a terrible fate.

    He said, "Sell me ten sacks of corn, and help me load them into the
    wagon." [This is where I figured out where this story was going... Uncle Romulus]

    And they did.

    Then the old trapper bid them farewell and drove on down the road.
    The townsfolk thought they’d never see him again.

    Two weeks later the man came back. He pulled up to the general store,
    got down off the wagon, walked in and bought ten more sacks of corn.
    After loading it up he went back down the road toward the swamp.

    Two weeks later he returned and, again, bought ten sacks of corn.
    This went on for a month. And then two months, and three.

    Every week or two the old trapper would come into town on a Saturday
    morning, load up ten sacks of corn and drive off south into the

    The stranger soon became a legend in the little village and the
    subject of much speculation. People wondered what kind of devil had
    possessed this man, that he could go into the Okefenokee by himself
    and not be consumed by the wild and free hogs.

    One morning the man came into town as usual. Everyone thought he
    wanted more corn.

    He got off the wagon and went into the store where the usual group
    of men were gathered around the stove. He took off his gloves.

    "Gentlemen," he said, "I need to hire about ten or fifteen wagons.
    I need twenty or thirty men. I have six thousand hogs out in the
    swamp, penned up, and they’re all hungry. I’ve got to get them to
    market right away."

    "You’ve WHAT in the swamp?" asked the storekeeper, incredulously.

    "I have six thousand hogs penned up. They haven’t eaten for two or
    three days, and they’ll starve if I don’t get back there to feed and
    take care of them."

    One of the oldtimers said, "You mean you’ve captured the wild hogs
    of the Okefenokee?"

    "That’s right."

    "How did you do that? What did you do?" the men urged, breathlessly.

    One of them exclaimed, "But I lost my arm!"

    "I lost my brother!" cried another.

    "I lost my leg to those wild boars!" chimed a third.

    The trapper said, "Well, the first week I went in there they were
    wild all right. They hid in the undergrowth and wouldn’t come out.
    I dared not get off the wagon. So I spread corn along behind the
    wagon. Every day I’d spread a sack of corn.

    "The old pigs would have nothing to do with it. But the younger pigs
    decided that it was easier to eat free corn than it was to root out
    roots and catch snakes. So the very young began to eat the corn first.

    "I did this every day. Pretty soon, even the old pigs decided that
    it was easier to eat free corn, after all, they were all free; they
    were not penned up. They could run off in any direction they wanted
    at any time.

    "The next thing was to get them used to eating in the same place all
    the time. So, I selected a clearing, and I started putting the corn
    in the clearing.

    "At first they wouldn't come to the clearing. It was too far. It was
    too open. It was a nuisance to them.

    "But the very young decided that it was easier to take the corn in
    the clearing than it was to root out roots and catch their own
    snakes. And not long thereafter, the older pigs also decided that it
    was easier to come to the clearing every day.

    "And so the pigs learned to come to the clearing every day to get
    their free corn. They could still subsidize their diet with roots
    and snakes and whatever else they wanted. After all, they were all
    free. They could run in any direction at any time. There were no
    bounds upon them.

    "The next step was to get them used to fence posts. So I put fence
    posts all the way around the clearing. I put them in the underbrush
    so that they wouldn't get suspicious or upset, after all, they were
    just sticks sticking up out of the ground, like the trees and the
    brush. The corn was there every day. It was easy to walk in between
    the posts, get the corn, and walk back out.

    "This went on for a week or two. Shortly they became very used to
    walking into the clearing, getting the free corn, and walking back
    out through the fence posts.

    "The next step was to put one rail down at the bottom. I also left
    a few openings, so that the older, fatter pigs could walk through
    the openings and the younger pigs could easily jump over just one
    rail, after all, it was no real threat to their freedom or
    independence--they could always jump over the rail and flee in
    any direction at any time.

    "Now I decided that I wouldn't feed them every day. I began to feed
    them every other day. On the days I didn't feed them, the pigs still
    gathered in the clearing. They squealed, and they grunted, and they
    begged and pleaded with me to feed them--but I only fed them every
    other day. Then I put a second rail around the posts.

    "Now the pigs became more and more desperate for food. Because now
    they were no longer used to going out and digging their own roots
    and finding their own food, they now needed me. They needed my
    corn every other day."

    "So I trained them that I would feed them every day if they came in
    through a gate and I put up a third rail around the fence.

    "But it was still no great threat to their freedom, because there
    were several gates and they could run in and out at will.

    "Finally I put up the fourth rail. Then I closed all the gates but
    one, and I fed them very, very well."

    "Yesterday I closed the last gate and today I need you to help me
    take these pigs to market."


    The price of free corn

    The parable of the pigs has a serious moral lesson. This story is
    about federal money being used to bait, trap and enslave a once free
    and independent people.

    Federal welfare, in its myriad forms, has reduced not only
    individuals to a state of dependency; state and local governments
    are also on the fast track to elimination, due to their functions
    being subverted by the command and control structures of federal
    "revenue sharing" programs.

    Please copy this parable and send it to all of your state and
    local elected leaders and other concerned citizens. Tell them:
    "Just say NO to federal corn."

    The bacon you save may be your own.

    Copyright 1997, The Idaho Observer. All rights reserved. Permission
    granted to reproduce for non-commercial purposes in entirety,
    including this notice.
  2. Shooting Jack

    Shooting Jack Active Member

    Jul 29, 2006
    Blackshear, Georgia
    Brian, that fenced in area is still there. If you ever make it down here to Blackshear, Ga on the edge of the swamp I will take you out there to see it. Some people call it Kingfisher which you can pull up from the internet. Jackie B.
  3. Model Number 12

    Model Number 12 TS Member

    Dec 21, 2008
    Good post, Brian. I can grow my own corn and bring home my own bacon.

    President Foodstamps--how true.
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