The Deercat

In the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, the Shenandoah National Park stretched nearly eighty miles between Waynesboro and Front Royal, Virginia, its outline reminiscent of a giant dragon in repose with the Blue Ridge Parkway as its finned spine.

Bordered to the East by the counties of Albemarle, Greene, Madison and Rappahannock, and to the West by Warren, Page, Rockingham and Augusta counties, the Shenandoah National Park slept under a blanket of cold, damp fog this early December morning.

The reverberating echo of distant rifle fire broke the tranquil stillness, announcing to all animals, large and small, that deer hunting season had started and the most dangerous predator of all, the deer hunter, was again on the loose.

The big thirty-point buck, grazing on the edge of the meadow, jerked his head in the direction of the echoing shots and stared, listening. Does, bolting for cover, looked to the buck for an indication of safety. The gray squirrel dropped the walnut planned for his breakfast and barked in indignation, his tail flipping back and forth in alarm.

Sitting on his front porch enjoying his second cup of coffee of the morning, fifty-nine year old retired ex-Marine and Madison County property owner, Mordecai Cradle, heard the report.

A half mile to the South and a thousand feet higher up the mountainside, another set of ears heard the rifle boom. The bearded old man muttered under his breath, "Sons-o-bitches, they are back again!!!"

Madison County, Virginia, originally a part of Culpeper County and formed in 1792, was named for former President and Father of the American Constitution, James Madison.

Madison County consisted of three hundred and twenty-four square miles of mostly rural area approximately eighty miles southwest of Washington, D.C. on US 29. Its western border backed against the Shenandoah National Park, with the remainder of its border joining Greene to the south, Rappahannock to the north, Culpeper to the northeast and Orange to the east.

By many accounts, Madison County had the dubious distinction of being a speed trap along its rolling segment of US 29, passing through picturesque farmland with the pale Blue Ridge Mountains to the west. Driving from Washington to the Carolinas on Route 29, the only section of the highway with which one could not take liberty with the 55 MPH limit was in Madison County. The traffic violation revenue was an integral part of the overall revenue producing apparatus of the county.

Some said a dictum of the local Judge was "Concentrate on the young University students travelling between the northeast and their campus in Charlottesville, driving little red sports cars purchased by their rich Daddys." So it was inevitable that Madison County would take its rightful place in the annals of speed trap notoriety alongside Colonial Heights, Virginia, Ludowici, Georgia and the entire state of Florida.

State Route 231, running from Shadwell east of Charlottes-ville, up to Sperryville, was essentially the main street of the sleepy little town of Madison, running on top of Business 29.

The sheriff s office, a smattering of law offices, a Ford dealership, the local drug store, a barber shop, an antique store and several eateries, all fronted on Route 231, Business 29 or Main Street, all one and the same. Auto repair shops, grocery stores and the local beer halls were located on the side streets.

After about eight PM, the town of Madison yawned and went to sleep. Should one relish further evening activities, i.e., shopping, movies, restaurants, options were to go north to Culpeper or south to Charlottesville. This was the way most Madisonites preferred it. Isolated, yet within reach of larger metropolitan areas, when required.

The Sheriff of Madison County was Danielle Stogner, the first duly elected female sheriff in this part of Virginia. Danielle Stogner was an imposing figure of a woman at six feet, one inch and two hundred and forty pounds. By wearing mail-ordered uniform boots, her height increased more than an inch. Her short cropped gray hair lent itself to very little glamour and she further diminished any remaining femininity by smoking dark cigarillos, a type of small cigar.

She had started working in the sheriff s office as a clerk-typist, dispatcher twenty years earlier and a hundred pounds lighter, eventually winding her way into a county deputy s uniform. Her detractors, and there were many, whispered that she had done so only after offering her favors to key, influential members of the county power structure.

Later, Danielle Stogner ran against incumbent Sheriff Cloister Mayhugh, holder of a relatively lackluster record, and won. Since becoming sheriff, she was known to bully her deputies and pummel male prisoners who resisted her special form of frisking.

The female sheriff was politically cunning, paying close attention to who was who and who belonged to which political camp. She still paid homage to those that mattered by dishing out physical favors. She catered only to those who might fortify her occasionally tenuous position. A little black book which carried critical, personal information on individuals that could stand in her way was always in her possession. Her personal credo for her own survival was "take no prisoners, give no quarter." To give the devil her due, most people questioned would concede that Danielle Stogner was effective, if not well liked. Criminal activity was down, arrests were up and drug dealers now shied away from Madison County. Most people gave her a wide berth but though she was not very well liked, the county citizenry looked on her like a junk yard dog. As long as she performed, who cared?

On the other end of the spectrum was Darden L. Swope, widely known and revered county drunk. In his younger days as a Marine P.F.C., he had fought in the Pacific during World War II and had stormed the black, volcanic sands of Iwo Jima. During the Iwo Jima invasion, Darden L. sustained multiple wounds in hand-to-hand combat with a squad of Japanese soldiers while dragging his mortally wounded company commander to an aid station. For his tenacity and bravery, he was awarded the second highest commendation in the Navy service, the Navy Cross. He was also awarded the Purple Heart and was truly embarrassed at the attention heaped upon him on his return home to Criglersville, Virginia.

The carnage of combat, the loss of many buddies and the gnawing realization that he had taken lives, all activated the trip wires of nightmares, and Darden L. Swope sought refuge in the sanctuary of alcohol.

Known as "Dardenel" by the manner in which he would pronounce his name while intoxicated, Darden L. could be seen hitchhiking on Routes 29, 231 and 670 between Charlottesville, Madison and Criglersville. Always neat, always ramrod straight and almost always inebriated, the old ex-Marine could appear more dignified standing on the side of the road with his thumb out than most people could in church. He never lost his Marine bearing.