Good morning, Netizens...
[The First Arrival]
In the beginning, where this Blog first set its calloused feet upon the oft-trodden road of what some call the new journalism, I was fond of writing what were quite long messages, in particular about a called the Virtual Ballroom. That act set a new and sometimes unpopular precedent for the Spokesman-Review online Blogs, but I anticipated that from the onset, and having braced myself against the roiled opinions and rumpled egos, still I persevered, and over time, others began to accept the Virtual Ballroom and Espresso Bar and its hallmark, a free cup of Virtual Espresso.
Along the way I introduced countless ghosts and spirits, even gracefully introducing the Garden Gnomes who maintain the sumptuous Virtual Garden behind the Ballroom in exchange for free holes in the ground in which they live, procreate and sing of their history as they have done for ages and ages.
There has been no mention, however, how this virtual kingdom came into existence; it didn't just manifest itself one day in the middle of Hillyard, because according to faux-historians, Hillyard didn't have a name when the real-life embodiment of the Virtual Ballroom first came into existence. Rather, there were various Native American tribes, including the amiable but cryptic Yukapatooie Band of Indians living in the area we now call Stevens County, who astutely avoided all commerce with the White Man, even other tribes and only occasionally were seen by outsiders.
According to Tribal Historian C. Horse Trotting, the Yukapatooie Indians first introduced the concept of the magical sphere of existence to what is now Hillyard in the late 1900's, where it prospered and managed to survive despite the onslaught and development which has since taken place. Although no records of his existence can be found, short of hard research in area Museums, a man named Pea Vine Jimmy first introduced his friends among the Yukapatooie Tribe to a piece of land behind what is now Market Street in Hillyard, and invited all his magical friends to move in, including the Gnomes who, at that time, were living behind a tavern in Springdale, Washington. After a series of events, not limited to a former Mayor of Springdale discharging a ten gauge shotgun for “entertainment” in the general direction of their underground homes, the Gnomes wisely decided to move to the land historically mentioned by Pea Vine Jimmy, and set up housekeeping nearby the rail yards in lovely downtown Hillyard.
In late 1983, I first met one of the few remaining members of the Yukapatooie Tribe who was slumped face-down on the bar at the Alaska Bar and Grill in Hillyard, after a long night of ceremonial celebration. Since he appeared to not have a home at that time, I put him up in the corner of my basement, and had extensive conversations with him over the course of the next few days. It was then I first heard of the mystical traditions of his tribe steeped deeply in magic and involved with Gnomes and other magical creatures.
One thing led to another, and eventually I met with a legation of the Gnomes, and offered them a space on a quiet piece of land in which I had an interest in Hillyard, and within a matter of a few days, they appeared as quietly as the tiny footfalls of the white corn mouse as it steals your socks, jewelry and other valuables with which to line its nest.
[Coming up next: The Gnome Magical Development Team]