(Nit Wit Newz is an unauthorized, often unreliable, on-line news service designed to keep residents abreast of the inconsequential, unverified, and trifling events that dramatically shape and inform our everyday lives here at Rogue Valley Manor.)
A BRIEF, SOMETIMES FACTUAL, HISTORY OF THE ROGUE VALLEY
(And Its Storied Manor)
Not just once, but twice upon a time—many, many years ago—King Harold the Good, leading a band of fierce but—when you got to know them—lovable warriors, stormed the villainous rogues that had unlawfully occupied Barneburg Hill. While the king’s first thrust to recapture his hill was beaten back, the second wave proved successful. Barneburg Hill was once again his. His subjects, the hill-side villagers, were no longer under the iron fist of the rogues. The evil rogues were unceremoniously routed.
Vanquished, the surviving rogues fled the hill showing no regard for the 15 mph speed limit, nor the collaterally damaged wild turkeys who were slow-poking their way down the center of the hill’s streets.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men followed the fleeing rogues in fevered pursuit. The chase went down Shannon Drive to Rogue Valley Manor Drive and on to Ellendale—where it spills into Barnett.
There, the beleaguered rogues got lucky. The signal at Ellendale, which, everyone knows, only rarely turns to green, did just that. The rogues made it through. The trailing king’s men didn’t—the signal had flashed red. Unwilling to risk an expensive traffic ticket, they stopped. The chase was over. The rogues had escaped into the fertile valley that lies just below Barneburg Hill.
Stymied, the king’s men turned and rode back up their newly reclaimed hill. Disappointed at their inability to smite all of the rogues, they, nonetheless, were heartened by the knowledge that the hill was now returned to its rightful owner, their king.
Upon their arrival atop Barneburg, they were greeted triumphantly by the village hill-siders, who were now returning to their badly damaged homes that had been seized and ransacked by the rogues .
The villagers were pleased to be beyond the grip of the marauding rogue horde. But, it must be said, not all were pleased to see the rogues go. Liaisons between some of the fetching village maidens and the younger rogue men were not, it seems, uncommon.
Meanwhile, on Barneburg, King Harold the Good began drawing up plans for his recent hill top real estate re-acquisition. It was clear, new housing for his people was needed. A high-rise building towering over the valley below was the answer. It would not only quarter his needy subjects, it would also be a useful sentinel to foresee any rogue counter-insurgency that might develop in the future. Work begin immediately.
At the same time, in the valley, the rogues, too, were developing plans for the future. Badly thrashed in their expulsion from the hill and now weary of their previous wicked ways, they turned to a new leader (their previous leader the evil, Boris the Bad, had been felled by a rare, terminal case of nervous leg syndrome).
That new leader would be David. A friendly, peaceful sort, David convinced the rogues that they should heed the biblical imperative to “beat their swords into plowshares.” “This barren, but fertile, valley,” he proclaimed, “is exactly where such a transformation should take place.”
The rogues embraced their new leader’s vision. And so it came to pass that the land was transformed into a fruited plain of some significance. Pear trees blossomed and bore fruit throughout the rogue’s valley—now know as the Rogue Valley.
During this transformation, however, several of the younger rogues, in an effort to re-kindle their flickering old flames on the “hill,” would pack a few of their superbly luscious pears and, late at night, surreptitiously, steal their way into the newly completed high rise on the hill.
Using make-shift entry fobs to get through the locked main door, from there, it did not take them long to find their former sweeties.
Pears, as it turned out, were the perfect gift. Their sweet, succulence had become valued throughout the entire valley.
The fruit found welcoming hands. The young rogue swains found welcoming arms.
Other than those few comely maidens favored by the rogues, King Harold’s subjects, because of the long, simmering feud, were the only ones in the entire valley unable to enjoy the delectable fruit. Without those pears, it was not long until the Manor dwellers would grow restive. Rogue Valley pears were desirable.
Unwilling to barter with his former foes for their fruit, King Harold dedicated an entire hillside street devoted to growing pear trees. He deemed it, Peartree Lane. Sadly, the young trees shriveled and died before they reached maturity. The hillside soil, it turned out, was incapable of sustaining the fruit trees.
Thus thwarted, the king knew that the rising trouble astir among his pear-deprived minions must be quelled. Against his better judgment, he decided to reach out to his old enemy, the evil Boris (he was unaware of Boris’s demise). To his surprise, he found their new leader—friendly David. And, indeed, David proved to be just that—friendly.
A successful negotiation ensued. The king needed pears and was willing to pay. Dave, realizing that the Manor account would be their largest in the entire valley, enthusiastically agreed to the deal.
The startling sequence of events that followed is best revealed in the headlines from old, contemporaneous issues of,“hillTOPICS,” a lurid tabloid at the time.
KING HAROLD THE GOOD ABDICATES!
Popular Monarch Vacates Throne. Names No Successor.
Autocracy Out. Democracy In.
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FORMER SOVEREIGN BEQUEATHS HIGH-RISE TO NON-PROFIT ORG.
Stately Barneburg Hill Building to be Converted to Swank Senior Community.
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EX-ROYAL, HAROLD, OPTS FOR COMMON MAN STATUS
Says, “Just Call me, Harry”
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CROWN DENIER AND PEAR CZAR INK HISTORIC PACT
Former Foes Now Fast Friends and Business Partners.
Plan to Gift Pack Pears for Worldwide Sales
——————–
PEAR PAIR PARTNERSHIP PROVES PROFITABLE
Next: Plan High-End Retail Store on Center Drive.
Store to Feature Pears and Moose Munch.
And so, dear history fans—lo those many years ago—that is how harmony, bliss, and prosperity swept across a large swath of southern Oregon.
Perfection, however, continues to remain elusive.
To this day, sauntering turkeys continue to bedevil drivers on Barneburg Hill; Peartree Lane is still absent a single pear tree; that capricious signal at Barnett only occasionally yields to autos backed up on Ellendale; and the Manor grapples to find a fair, monthly food plan to feed its residents.
Alas, our story ends near, but just shy of—happily ever after.
—A. Looney