DEL.ICIO.USHoschton hopes to scare up world record
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Monday, August 25, 2008
Talk about a growing city! Hoschton has more than doubled its population this summer.
The newcomers have arrived singly and in pairs. Families and football squads have made Hoschton home. Some peep at you from sidewalks, others stand righteously outside church, and hundreds more have gathered under trees where traffic passes in this Jackson County town 50 miles northeast of downtown Atlanta. They are short, tall, thin, fat, formally attired or wearing tired attire. They smile, scowl and turn blank gazes at anyone who looks back.
Mark Davis/mrdavis@ajc.com
It might seem pretty hot for a ski cap, but sometimes that’s what it takes to keep one’s hairdo in place.
Mark Davis/mrdavis@ajc.com
Townsfolk say there’s not a crow in sight, with frightening figures like these guarding fields and meadows, lawns and porches. Hoschton’s goal is to lay waste to a Guinness record held by the Cincinnati Horticultural Society.
They are scarecrows, proof that even the tiniest places have grand designs.
Folks here think they can erect 4,000 scarecrows, thereby guaranteeing a spot in that encyclopedia of the extreme, the Guinness World Records. The scarecrows are the stars of the 2008 Scarecrow Stampede, a centerpiece of the Hoschton Fall Festival, Sept. 26-27. They have until Sept. 1 to do it.
A brainless exercise? Not at all, said Bill Copenhaver, mayor of Hoschton, population 1,700 or so.
“The town is growing,” said Copenhaver, who says he hasn’t seen a crow in Hoschton since April, when faux folks started showing up in front yards and storefronts. “We’re trying to build Hoschton into something where people want to come see what we’re about.”
They’re about to find out that you don’t mess with Cincinnati, said Jackie Mathews, publicity manager for the Cincinnati Horticultural Society. The organization set the world record five years ago with 3,311 scarecrows. It does not intend to get usurped by some funny-sounding town down South.
“Well, we do have a fall show coming up in October, so we could very well answer this challenge,” she said. “I think we’ll have to rally the troops.”
Hoschton has rallied, too. By Thursday, it had about 2,600 scarecrows — 1,400 short of the goal, but “it’s catching on,” said Frederick Bettis. Entrepreneur and all-around fix-it guy, he’s married to Robbie Bettis, an energetic proponent of all things Hoschtonian, and the brains behind the scarecrow explosion.
Tuesday afternoon, Bettis hammered 2-foot lengths of galvanized pipe into the ground under a tall cedar not far from City Hall. Around him lay the handiwork of the Hoschton Business Alliance — 20 scarecrows with idiot grins, built of thin strips of wood donated by residents and area lumber yards. Some sported discarded sport coats and spotted neckties. Others wore last decade’s dresses. All had an inventory tag, which Guinness requires. Each waited for Bettis to lash its wooden pole to a stake with plastic ties that electricians use to bundle wire.
“We figure a little town can beat a big city,” said Bettis, who estimates he’s built more than 200 scarecrows for the cause.
Others are building them, too, said Robbie Bettis. In January, she applied to Guinness to topple the horticultural society’s claim to scarecrow supremacy. In mid-March, the London-based organization gave Hoschton the go-ahead.
“I thought we could win with a few hundred scarecrows,” said Bettis, who owns and operates antique stores in the area. “Then I found out that the record was 3,311.”
Bettis blanched, then started crunching numbers. More than 5,000 people live in Hoschton’s 30548 ZIP code, the area eligible to show scarecrows. If schools, churches and subdivisions got involved … well, it’ll be close. To satisfy Guinness, Bettis and others are photographing each scarecrow, and will videotape clusters of scarecrows, too.
Why scarecrows? They are a symbol of Hoschton’s rural past, when discarded rags stood guard over pumpkin patches and gardens, said Bettis. Besides, what better mascot than a scarecrow for a town whose City Hall is a former chicken hatchery?
“We’ve always had scarecrows in the Fall Festival,” she said. “People sort of identify scarecrows with fall.”
Folks certainly identify them with Hoschton now.
You cannot walk in Hoschton without bumping into a scarecrow. They are posted along main drags where log trucks pass and on little streets where dogs trot untended. They range from a manger scene outside the Baptist church to a deer’s head inserted in hunter’s camouflaged clothes. They include the cast of “The Wizard of Oz,” standing on the porch of a law office. There is the “Headless Hoschman,” who lives up to his name. A family — dad, kid and exceedingly pregnant mom — keep watch outside a yard.
And let us not forget a stick-and-rags collection of 11 scarecrows dressed as the Georgia Bulldogs. Located in a field on Ga. 53 east of downtown, they’re about to butt empty heads with a nameless bunch of scarecrows dressed in orange — Clemson or Tennessee, perhaps?
When he saw the teams, Jack Keller pulled over and pointed his camera. Click. Folks back home in Missouri City, Texas, would love the sight, he said.
“I think this is terrific,” said Keller, visiting friends near Hoschton. “The community spirit here is just wonderful.”
Hoschton is a fine place, agreed Mary Ann Kenerly, who lives just east of downtown. She’s the hostess of 108 scarecrows — 54 in a field, and an equal number lining a fence where her pasture ends. When people asked her to let them place scarecrows on her land, she said yes.
“God gave me this farm,” said Kenerly, adjusting the mop-head hair of a scarecrow clad in sun-faded overalls. “I try to share it with everybody.”
Yes, a lot of people have stopped to admire the multitude outside her home. Yes, she expects more scarecrows to join those already in place.
No, she hasn’t seen any crows.
Hoschton is happy to accept your unwanted scarecrows, too. For more information about Hoschton’s bid for immortality, log on to www.hoschtonfallfestival.com.
