I'm still wondering about the "back story" on Chief S itting Bull leaving his comfortable house in northeastern Massachusetts (somewhere north of Boston) for rural Connecticut, about a year and a half, two years, ago.
I mean, surely the IRS can track one down no matter where one lives.
I don't think the bird-smacking stoned red-faced primitive has enough credit to buy a business like this.
Sometimes it's easy to forget Chief S itting Bull is 60 years old, maybe 61 by now.
Only way to make a buck in that industry is to take a page out of the 1930 gangster resorts.
Met a family in Tenn. the male was a biker that did some hard time and became born again.
He saw that his fellow bikers were in need of the Word and he managed to live hand to mouth preaching the story and showing up in schools to warn the kiddies of following a life of crime.
One day he somehow came across a piece of property, perhaps 10 acres with nothing but a 3 car garage on it, plumbing and electricity installed.
The owner themself was about to spend 20 years in prison so selling everything they the family had, gave the owner enough money to bug out before the trial.
This family with the help of biker friends turned that garage into a Church---stolen goods for the transformation into a so called house of God of the Iron Horse.
He never realized just how easy it is to put a REV. in front of his name or get the town to OK his new Church.
Meanwhile his wife got an OK to set up a hot dog stand by the side of the Church in order to feed the hungry travelers, no charge, free food.
No license to sell booze so it was a bring your own bottle. Every Friday and Saturday they had a service where the biker bitches brought in casserole dishes or some one would donate ribs and chicken.
He spread the word of God with the help of the county sheriff in the jails and about his church to the inmates. He received Clergy status at the local hospital and took to wearing priest clothes.
Meanwhile back in the woods, bikers on the lam were building shacks of tin and plywood in case of need, the agreement was that if the builders were not there the shacks could be used by others in need.
This new Rev did charge rent to the shack builders and if they forgot to pay it, the Rev. would rent it out to someone else.
This Man was a pip, really something from the past.
His rules were that no one would do any stealing or even bar hoping in the town or those surrounding it, no speeding, no contact with any police.
No planting or manufacturing of any drugs on the property. He even went so far as to buy a freaking horse to ride about his property to check for garbage or any kind of rule breaking he found. If people wanted to do pot or other drugs they had best behave themselves.
With all the tax breaks he received on the land, his church and his wife's work feeding people for nothing, milage on cars used to take him on errands of mercy, the rent on unused shacks in the woods, and the discounts the professionals give to a REV and family, within less then 10 years he had a bank account that most of us dream of.
His B&B worked out for him, he had no problem with rival biker gangs as this was their last resort-----Sort of like running for the Hole in the Wall gangs had in the 1800 in the mid west.
Yup-O I was there in the early 80's saw it and never want to go back again.
