Chris and Sam were social workers in Lincoln, apparently, and tired of the red tape and the mistreated families (they should come to LA some time) so they came up with this scheme one drunken Saturday night. It seems like a good plan and the people here are willing to be here, no one is held against their will and families come and go all the time.
Sam talked a little bit about the different religious groups and how everyone is free to follow their own beliefs and that his position as ‘caretaker’ is elected.
It sounds pretty cool. I wonder what they think of same sex relationships.
"How many people are here?" Kelsey asks, over an hour into the interview. They’re the first words she’s been able to sneak in.
"A hundred and forty as of last week," Sam replies. "The housing is mostly communal, different family units sharing kitchens and common rooms but having their own sleeping quarters."
"Isn’t that a lot for a piece of land this size?"
Sam shrugs. "We’re not completely self-sufficient when our numbers get that high but we won’t turn people away. We get supplies in town when we need them and we have some profitable ventures here to help us."
"Tell me about these trips to town," Kels prompts.
"We have a group of teenagers responsible for shopping and the selling of our goods. We expect everyone to pull their own weight and it’s a good job for youngsters: teaches them the value of money and social structures."
"But ..." Kelsey prods into the silence Sam has left dangling.
"But we have a couple of young men now who are testing their boundaries, feeling a bit too big for their britches."
"The town thinks you’re a bunch of wackos out here," Kelsey points out.
Oh good, Kelsey, sugarcoat it. I focus in on Sam’s serious face while he ponders the statement.
"We’ve never made an effort to prove we’re not. They think we do all kinds of weird things in here. But, really, it’s none of their business. The boys aren’t necessarily helping our cause right now, but we’re working with them."
"Have you restricted their access to town?"
Sam looks shocked at such a question. "No, of course not. They’re there today."
I meet Kelsey’s curious green gaze over the betacam and I shrug. I’m not a parent. I don’t know crap about disciplining teenaged boys. Now, give me a few teenaged girls and I could come up with something. Well, college girls. Gotta be legal.
I can tell we’re wrapping up this very boring interview and I hear Kelsey ask for permission to film the grounds and talk with some of the residents. Sam agrees easily and asks Chris to show us around.
When I turn off the camera, I get it ready for our short interview work. I will shoot off the shoulder and not bother sending the 13 gig feed back to the truck, it’s too hard to maneuver the pole around with us.
Kelsey saunters over to me and shakes her head. She’s wondering why we came to middle America for nothing and I have to admit, I’m wondering the same. Oh well. Some stories pan out and some don’t. No beer at the bar for my source this time around.
It’s getting late in the afternoon when Kelsey finishes up yet another interview with yet another happy camper. We have gotten some dirty looks from a few and refusals to speak from some others, but that’s not so unusual in the media business.
We’re wrapping up and talking about heading down the dirt road when a loud rumble and dust come over the crest and down into the compound. A red four door pickup screeches to a halt and a handful of young men jump out of the vehicle, laughing loudly and pounding each other on backs.
I suppose we should try to get some words from them before we head back to the hotel. Kelsey’s silent nod tells me she agrees and we’re on our way over.
Kelsey does the intro and permission spiel, which the boys are thrilled to hear. She’s much more professional with this group than she was with Football and the memory makes me grin before I start taping. Jimmy groans in my ear.
"You were in town just now?"
"Yeah," says the apparent leader. "What a blast. Got us some important things back there. We have an important job."
"Did you start anything while you were there? I understand you’ve had some run-ins recently?"
The kid scuffs his toe in the dirt for awhile and shrugs. "We only do what we’re told."
Kelsey raises one fine eyebrow. "What were you told to do?"
"Alan-" a voice from the back of the group calls out in warning but the speaker waves him off.
"It’s almost time, man. I don’t care if the lady knows. We were told to get the town worried about us. Like we were a threat. So we start fights and we talk like we’re all a buncha kooks. No big deal."
"Did Sam tell you to do this?"
"Sam? That bag of wind? He ain’t nothing," Alan shakes his head. "Come on, guys," he motions to his buddies and they start to move to the back of the truck.
I follow them with the camera and continue taping while they pull wrapped bundles from the bed and drop them in the dirt. The packages clatter noisily.
"So who told you to do these things?" Kelsey persists, leaning against the vehicle.
Alan stops his motion and watches my partner and glances at me and the camera before deciding to answer. "See, living here is a lot like living anywhere. You have groups of people who don’t get along and you have minorities who might have better ideas and more promises for the future but the old politics don’t allow for those changes."
I’m struck by how articulate our young friend is, as if he has someone speaking in his ear. Or he’s memorized this speech from previous encounters.
"So it’s a minority leader? Trying for a coup?"
Alan grins. "Something like that, yeah. We have work to do, Ms. Stanton."
She thanks him for his time and comes back over to me.
I lower the betacam from my shoulder, shifting my grip on it. "What do you think?"
"I think we should ask Chris a couple more questions."
I nod my agreement and we head back to the large building where Chris disappeared once deeming us unworthy an escort. We’re barely in the upstairs hallway when we hear a heated argument coming from Sam’s office. I quirk an eyebrow at Kels and turn on the camera so we can at least get sound, and Kels aims the antenna back toward the truck.
"You’re taping nothing," Jimmy’s voice pipes up helpfully in my ear.
"Shut up and listen, Olson," I whisper.
I really can’t pick up much but muffled voices through the thick door. I hear ‘fanatic’ in Sam’s deep booming tones and a higher voice responds with a jumble of words and ‘what the people want.’
Suddenly things are more interesting and I’m grinning again. Kelsey shakes her head but a slight smile graces her features. Jimmy is whining about something in my ear but I pop it out and let it dangle, not wanting to miss the fun in front of me.
We don’t get too much time to respond to this new development because the door bursts open and out stomp Chris, Sam, and a tall skinny man. They’re still yelling at each other and Sam is telling the third man to go home and cool off.
"Then we’ll call a meeting and decide if this is a place for you and your followers to live, Scamp."
Scamp? There’s a classy name if I’ve ever heard one. It fits the man, though. He’s tall and lanky with long hair and a scruffy beard. He’s dressed in denim and flannel and parades a ‘world-be-damned’ attitude if I’ve ever seen one. And I have a pretty good idea of what one looks like since I consider myself a pro.
"That’s what you think, Sam," he grumbles in response.
Interrupting our friendly little gathering, a small group of men comes flying up the stairs and into the hallway.