Let’s go back to November 2016: a turbulent time for millions of Americans, who fiercely stormed the frontlines of Twitter and Facebook to flex their free-speech muscles, argue politics with estranged relatives and wage hyperlink warfare against their ideological opposition.
This was a time we all, perhaps regrettably, remember. But amid the blitzkrieg of alternative facts, incendiary memes and celebrity spitfire, another election was taking place in America. An election that, in many ways, seemed more like the ones we’re used to in the developed world.
No flag burning. No angry protests. No damn emails. Just a true-blue demonstration of democracy. This, of course, was Rabbit Hash’s mayoral election — a non-partisan tradition more commonly known as The Indawguration.
Yes. Last November, the people of Rabbit Hash, Ky. elected their fourth canine mayor — a 3-year-old pit bull named Brynneth Pawltro. Or Brynn, for those who know her on a first-name basis.
Brynn’s victory was announced on Tuesday, Nov. 15. She ran a clean, issue-focused campaign, according to Don Clare, president of the Rabbit Hash Historical Society.
“Brynn is the first female mayor to take office here in Rabbit Hash,” he says. “She’s also a rescue, which makes her a minority on multiple levels.”
Clare’s reverence for the new mayor is a glowing testament to the eccentric, open-minded and remarkably down-to-earth spirit on which Rabbit Hash thrives. Since 1847, this 3.5-acre river town has always risen with the tide — surviving more than a few contentious presidential elections, not to mention a few massive floods and the threat of suburban sprawl.
For those yet to take a trip down the Rabbit hole, the town is located approximately 30 miles southwest of Cincinnati in Boone County. New housing developments and construction are part of the landscape along the way. But by the time you see signs for Rabbit Hash Historic District, you’re well en route to a place where time appears to have stood still.
“You drive 20 minutes from Cincinnati and you feel like you’ve gone back 200 years,” says Clare, who first took interest in preserving the town’s legacy in the late ’70s with his friend, Louie Scott.
Scott halted the seemingly inevitable bulldozer effect by purchasing every property in Rabbit Hash, piece by piece. By 1979, he owned every landmark in town — including the infamous General Store, built in 1831. In Clare’s words, “(Scott) won the Rabbit Hash Monopoly game. And if he hadn’t stepped in when he did, this place wouldn’t be here today.”
In essence, Scott was the sole proprietor of Rabbit Hash in its entirety until 2002, when he sold his bundle of properties to the Rabbit Hash Historical Society — a local organization created to ensure long-term preservation of the town and its history. This transaction was made possible by a single donation of $250,000, as stated on the historical society website. It was one of many significant individual contributions aimed at keeping Rabbit Hash alive, just as it was.
The old, wooden buildings in town required dedicated upkeep to withstand the elements — most notably floodwater. But on Feb. 13, 2016, the historical society faced an unprecedented crisis. Around 9 p.m., a fire erupted inside the Rabbit Hash General Store, claiming more than a century’s worth of antiques, artifacts and mementos, in addition to causing critical structural damage.
According to Clare, the fire started in a Coca-Cola cooler. He called it “ironic,” given that one of the store’s most iconic features was a huge Coke sign that hung above the entrance. Burning into the early hours of the morning, the fire left only three walls standing and an entire community in mourning.
“Ever since it was built, (the General Store) has been the pulse of the community,” Clare says. “It’s where you got your news, socialized and connected with people. It’s kind of like the 19th-century Facebook.”
He’s not the only one who thinks so. In fact, hundreds of people were quick to rally on social media as a means to kick-start a crowd-funded restoration effort that continues to gain traction.
Terrie Markesbery, current proprietor of the Rabbit Hash General Store, launched a GoFundMe campaign the following day that has received over $65,000 in contributions from more than 1,100 donors. As of today, her campaign has been shared approximately 17,000 times on social media, reminding us all of the internet’s potential to unite communities, not just inflame their divisions.
In addition to an overwhelming response online, supporters have organized a number of local fundraisers, including music events, motorcycle rallies and art gatherings. Clare reports that approximately $300,000 has been raised for the General Store’s restoration so far, enabling them to make rapid progress throughout the past year.
In accordance with requirements by the U.S. National Register of Historic Places, restorations were made using materials that date back to around the same time the General Store was originally built. Ed Unterreiner, owner of Rivertown Construction, was contracted for the job soon after the fire.
“The boards we used on the interior walls are boards that came off a barge that they floated down river to Rabbit Hash,” Unterreiner says. “Some of these boards still have the original barge lettering printed on them.”
Along with the lumber they salvaged from the boat, Unterreiner and his small crew of builders meticulously deconstructed two entire buildings in town to repurpose their materials. Clare was a daily participant in the process, spending countless hours removing nails, cleaning, storing and painting the old wood in preparation for it to finally be used. “It took a lot of extra time, money and labor,” he says. “But that’s how we were able to make it look like it did the day before the fire.”
Unterreiner elaborated on the unique challenges of a project like this. In the 25 years he’s been in business, no other restoration effort has required so much attention to preserving the details. “In a typical remodel, you always have something to go by: architectural drawings; homeowners who can tell you exactly what they want,” he says. “With this, we took it down to dirt and the only plans we have were based on photographs. It’s hard to determine dimensions just by looking at a photo. But with enough of them, we’ve come up with something that’s really, really close to the way it was.”
As a Rabbit Hash native himself, Unterreiner even remembers the building’s little imperfections, like the crooked front porch. These, too, were an intentional part of the restoration process.
“I want it to be as if nothing happened,” he says. “This is a personal thing. All these little details are important to me.”
With the help of volunteers and local business sponsors, the Rabbit Hash General Store is standing once again. To a visitor, the store is indistinguishable from its former self. Even the Coca-Cola sign has been restored — and that’s not all.
“This whole thing just restores your faith in humanity,” Clare says. “Especially in this political atmosphere, it’s good to be in a place with decency, love and respect.”
As they put on the finishing touches inside the store, which now includes a new fire suppression system, they’re still in need of antiques and novelties that can recreate the old vibe. “If anyone has something laying around in their garage or barn and think it would look good in the General Store, we’d gladly accept it,” Clare says.
The Unique Soundtrack of Rabbit Hash
BY BRIAN BAKER
Music’s most important qualities are conveying specific emotions, imparting palpable feelings and connecting distinctly to a misty past. Similarly, there are certain physical places that evoke that sense of timelessness and contentment.
The Rabbit Hash General Store was the connective link between the feeling the store itself exuded and the emotions generated by the music presented within and beyond its walls.
When fire leveled the store last February, many feared that connection was lost forever, but the dedication of Rabbit Hash’s residents, store operator Terrie Markesbery and the area’s music community proved to be an immeasurable constructive force.
In just over a year, the Rabbit Hash General Store has risen Phoenix-like from its ashes, and music will once again fill its cozy confines on April Fool’s Day, officially reopening with performances by area groups like The Stardevils, Cadillac Catfish and the Rhythm Gang, Pappy’s Jam Band and The Modified, a stripped down version of the venerable Cincinnati band The Modulators.
“It had such a fury behind it,” says Markesbery of the fundraising efforts, which included various music-affiliated endeavors. “The momentum of that train was unstoppable.”
It began the afternoon after the fire, when a community member suggested Markesbery move the store and its music into the adjoining barn until the store could reopen. She has operated in that manner since last spring.
Rabbit Hash’s musical identity was forged by Markesbery’s late husband Richard Young, whose Texas upbringing and affinity for songwriting storytellers was his yardstick for determining the town’s eventual soundtrack. He related that musical wisdom to Markesbery, who has booked the general store since his passing. “I think it’s just years of listening and watching and learning that’s brought the music to this point,” she says. “It’s just pretty intuitive that way.”
Markesbery doesn’t have clearly defined memories of specific shows over the years. Instead, her musical experiences constitute a stream of consciousness flashback that forms a singular sense of purpose and joy.
“It’s about the interaction between the musicians and the audience,” she says. “To be the catalyst for that interaction, that’s what feeds my soul. I remember standing on the counter and taking a picture of the crowd, and I don’t know who they were watching but it was just smiling faces. I can’t wait to get that back.”
David Rhodes Brown would agree. The veteran Cincinnati vocalist/guitarist became so enamored of Rabbit Hash that he and wife Bobbi Kayser, who he met at an early foray to town, built a home just down the road from the store. Brown’s first Rabbit Hash performance cemented his feelings.
“(The Stardevils’) Lance Kaufman and I invented a little group called the Queen City Kings and we started these barn dances,” Brown says. “On Sundays, we’d pair up with another band and have like a Rockabilly set and this old Hank Williams Sr. stuff. The first time I played that old Hank stuff at that barn dance, and we had people 8 to 80, clog dancing in front of us, I said to myself, ‘For a guy who’s done (more than) 200 nights a year for 10 or 12 years, this has got to be my first real gig.’ ”
Brown was one of many local music figures that became the tip of a critical fundraising spear for the store’s resurrection. His 100 Bands for Rabbit Hash campaign, where groups donated one night’s proceeds from their best shows to the rebuilding fund, was a large monetary component.
Another vital musical cog in the fundraising community was local singer/songwriter Kelly Thomas, whose career is inextricably linked to Rabbit Hash. She almost immediately turned her personal devastation into action, booking over 30 bands for a two-night benefit at Newport, Ky.’s Southgate House Revival last May.
“Everybody wanted to play that show,” Thomas says. “I was tiptoeing, not wanting to hurt anybody’s feelings, but it got booked up so fast. … The event itself (had) a very connected community vibe.” Thomas’ association with the general store dates back prior to her own musical pursuits, and her memories of it are strong and uniquely personal.
“I’ve seen tons of great music in both the store, where you hang around the stove in the winter, and outside and in the barn in the summer,” Thomas says. “I always laughed because where they had the music in the store was in front of the pharmacy — so like tampons and stuff — and I always wanted to ask a musician, ‘Hey, could you hand me a box of… ?’ I’ve never gotten up the guts to do it.”
Markesbery notes that the new store, while architecturally identical to the original, doesn’t possess quite the same ambiance as its predecessor. Of course, the first building had 186 years to get that lived-in feeling.
“It feels like an old soul,” Markesbery says. “I put on my webpage, ‘Help us welcome back the old girl,’ because it feels like an old friend. I’ve missed her so much. It’s feeling like it’s supposed to be feeling.” ©
The RABBIT HASH GENERAL STORE will reopen on April 1 after a 9:30 a.m. ribbon-cutting ceremony, with live music, wine tastings and other festivities noon-8 p.m. 10021 Lower River Road, Rabbit Hash, Ky. More info: 859-586-7744 or rabbithash.com.
This article appears in Mar 22-29, 2017.
