I’m heading back to Skidmore this weekend. David Dunbar, the former sheriff of Skidmore who resigned after McElroy pulled a shotgun on him outside the D &G Tavern, is holding a pig roast in Maryville, and insists that I attend. David is a terrific cook, and he was very helpful with the book, and it’s been a couple of years since I’ve been back. I also need to spend time with Margaret Goslee, who just turned 92. The Goslees put me up and provided invaluable help during the many years I spent in Skidmore.
People often ask me if I was scared during my stay in Skidmore. A couple of times, I have to admit. I had a shotgun pulled on me. But the reactions to my posts on Del Clement, the primary shooter, have been startling. You might remember that one truck driver made a no so subtle threat if I didn’t stop writing about Del. Several family members were also hostile. I know they follow this blog.
Skidmore is a small town. Everyone will know of my presence long before I arrive. We’ll see what happens. Stay tuned.