The Dam Town

  Dear Counsel,

Before I can answer your question, I must first give you some history of this little town. As I understand it from the old timers around here, this community was developed around the “I-Gotcha River.” This unique name came about years ago when two settlers were attempting to cross the river. One fell into the river, and the other ran along the shore until he could grab onto his partner's leg, yelling at the top of his voice, “I GOTCHA!!!”  The name just stayed with the settlers.

Well, back in the 1930’s the government decided to build a dam along this river.  The workers building the dam camped out right here at night.  By the time the dam was completed, a little community had sprung up with stores, stables, a saloon, boarding house, a jail, school and a church.

The townsfolk decided to get organized and apply for a township. The only problem was, the founding fathers couldn’t agree on a town name. After much debate and infighting they just gave up on trying. Well, the townsfolk and people in the surrounding area just started calling it the “Dam Town.” Most likely because the town was built around the dam. After many years the town's leadership went forward with officially naming the town as, “Dam Town."

I was traveling on the Interstate last week and was running a little low on gas, so I decided to exit and cross over the I-Gotcha River Bridge and visit the Dam Town to refuel. After fueling up I went to the Dam Town Café and decided to get something to eat. They had a great sandwich special known as the "Dam special."  There I sat in the Dam Town eating at the Dam Town Café. This is going to make an interesting conversation piece later on, I thought.

After eating, I was eager to get back on the Interstate, so I took off heading for the I-Gotcha River bridge when I got pulled over by the local police. The cop said I would have to turn back around and go to the courthouse and see the judge for speeding. Here we go, I thought to myself.  I drove past Main Street and next to the Post Office was the Court House.

I walked into the courthouse and asked for the judge. I was then ushered into a small courtroom where the judge was seated. He asked me for my citation, and I politely handed it to him.

He then looked at me and said, "The fine is $75.00." 

"What, your Honor I haven‘t even been given a fair ....!”

The judge looked at me with this silly grin and said, “You already confessed, so pay up.”

I reached back and pulled out $75.00 and paid the judge. As I turned and walked away, I mumbled, “damn judge.” 

This is how I ended up here in the dam damn jail. I didn’t want to use the local defense attorney because he is the brother-in-law of the damn judge. I hope this answers your question. Please understand my precarious predicament.  I’m tired of this dam damn town and sleeping in this damn jail. So with this I’m officially asking a second time for you to represent me and get me out of this damn mess.

                                                                                          Yours Truly

                                                                                            I. B. Guildy