I. Genesis of a Legend: The Pie-Pilfering Proto-Hoedag (1926)
Our saga begins not with a roar, but with a whisper—a whisper of missing pies. The setting: the hallowed (and apparently not entirely secure) clubhouse of the Hunters, Traders, and Trappers (H.T. & T.), a social organization in St. Marys, Ohio. While a modern account (The Evening Leader, Oct. 3, 2023, Brent Melton) mentions a reported 1912 origin for the Hoedag, this claim is unsubstantiated by the contemporary reports from the 1920s and 30s. Those reports, centered on the pronouncements of Fred “Midge” Longsworth, place the creature’s initial activities around 1923. Initially identified in newspaper reports as “Midget,” Longsworth was later more commonly referred to as “Midge,” including in his obituary. We’ll use “Midge” for consistency.
May 14, 1926 — The Evening Leader:
“The hoedag is out again,” says Fred Longsworth, otherwise known as Midge, bringing back to memory the mysterious animal which the Hunters, Traders and Trappers association hunted last year at Lake St. Marys.” (The Evening Leader, May 14, 1926, p. 7).
The phrasing is crucial. The Hoedag is “out again,” clearly implying prior activity. Midge even recalled specific, albeit failed, attempts at capture from that time: “We would have got him last year if Jim Townsend and Frank Shelly had played square. We put some pie out on the porch step as a lure for him. Jim and Frank took the pie down to the ‘pest house’ and ate it. Of course we couldn’t catch that hoedag then.” (The Evening Leader, May 14, 1926, p. 7). The “Hunters, Traders and Trappers association” (H.T. & T.) is already linked to “hunting” the creature, suggesting an existing, though undocumented, oral tradition, likely within the confines of the H.T. & T. itself. The year, according to Midge’s later accounts, was approximately 1923.
The mastermind, or at least the chief spokesperson, behind this emerging legend was Midge Longsworth. He was, as his 1951 obituary in The Lima News would later put it, a man who “possessed a remarkable talent for originality” (July 17, 1951, p.2). According to Midge, and he would know, he was deeply involved with the Hunters, Traders, and Trappers. The H.T.&T. club’s activities were frequently noted in the local paper. The return of their president, Gust Wehrman, to St. Marys on November 9, 1926, was cause for celebration after an absence of “eighteen months”: “All’s well once more and rejoicing runs high in the circles of the H. T. & T… Gust Wehrman… is back now to stay.” The paper noted, “Gust has been at Delaware or somewhere, but he is back now to stay. And the H.T. & T. will meet soon and Gust intends talking. And how!” (The Evening Leader, Nov 9, 1926, p.1). A few days later, on November 12, 1926, “Twenty-one members of the H.T. & T. club assembled… at the John I. Young cottage” for a welcome back party (The Evening Leader, Nov 12, 1926, p. 6). Soon after, on February 12, 1927, The Evening Leader (p.6) announced the formation of a new “East Side” chapter, holding its constitution meeting on February 19, 1927, on East Spring Street:
“NEW H. T. & T. CLUB A new organization, known as the East Side Hunters, Traders, and Trappers has just been perfected… This club will consist of some of the old members of the original H. H. and T. who are in good standing and some new material. Charles Holtzhauer has been elected president, John Morris secretary and treasurer and ‘Midget’ Longsworth, Chef.” (The Evening Leader, Feb 12, 1927, p. 6).
This seemingly minor detail – Midge’s appointment as “Chef” – takes on added significance given the Hoedag’s later association with missing food, particularly pies, from H.T. & T. gatherings. Midge had a reputation for originality. Some credited it with his cooking. Others, with the monster that seemed to haunt the lake.
II. The Hoedag Evolves: From Pie Thief to Peculiar Beast (1929-1931)
The Hoedag, initially a shadowy presence associated with missing food, began to acquire… characteristics. By 1929, it wasn’t just a suspected thief; it was described as a creature. A very strange creature, at that. That year, the H. T. & T. were discussing a “‘hodag,’ discovered in a South side farmer’s hog house.” According to The Evening Leader, the discovery prompted some amusement and perhaps a wink toward the Wisconsin legend of the same name: “The ‘hodag’ is about 14 feet long and is a fine specimen; it is on a hunt for winter quarters. Now laugh!” (November 7, 1929, p. 6).
That same year, a different, decidedly smaller, snake-like creature with one eye, moving backwards, was reportedly discovered. Albert Koch found the “small animal-reptile,” about two inches long and thick as a pencil, in a fruit jar on the sidewalk in front of his home on South Wayne street. It reportedly had “very small extensions from the body” for feet, lifted its head while moving backward watching its course with its single, centered eye, and made a “whirring noise” when angered. Furthermore, Koch’s wife had “previously had killed two of the same species of life.” (The Evening Leader, July 20, 1929, p.1). Midge was quick to chime in, linking this bizarre find to the club’s earlier anxieties:
“Is it the hoedag—that half animal and half snake—which put such fear in the hearts of the Hunters, Traders and Trappers a few years ago when they met in their club house on the south shore of Lake St. Marys?” he asked, in the pages of The Evening Leader (July 20, 1929, p.1). “Fred Longsworth, generally known as the Midget, claims it is.”
The year 1930 marks a turning point. The Hoedag transitions from whispered rumor to public spectacle. St. Marys, embracing the burgeoning legend, incorporated the Hoedag into its Halloween celebration. The H.T.&T. took the initiative in staging the event, promising a Mardi Gras atmosphere.
“The hoedag is to appear in the parade,” The Lima News announced on October 20 (p. 9), “the Hunters, Traders and Trappers organization has promised.” The Evening Leader added that the H.T.&T. had just “captured” the creature at Lake Loramie for the occasion (The Evening Leader, Oct 25, 1930, p.4).
And appear, it did! A depiction of the Hoedag was paraded through the streets, described in The Evening Leader as having “fiery eyes, its terrible form and its strange color the animal was terrifying in appearance” (Nov 1, 1930, p.1). A newspaper illustration in The Evening Leader (Oct. 28, 1930, p.5), promoting the upcoming event, provides our first visual representation: a gawky beast with a horse-like head, a long, serpentine neck, oddly placed legs, shaggy fur, and a general air of… well, strangeness. Among the prizes awarded at the celebration? “3 yds. of Hoe-Dag Togs,” given for the best hobo costume—perhaps the most coveted textile ever associated with a mythical reptile (The Evening Leader, Oct 28, 1930, p.5 & Nov 1, 1930, p.1).
Descriptions varied wildly, depending on the year, the source, and perhaps the number of pies consumed. Some said the Hoedag had:
- Circular feet, “resembling plates,” leaving perplexing tracks because “it is capable of moving backward or forward at an equal rate of speed.” (The Lima News, Oct. 20, 1930, p. 9). Later accounts described “feet like those of an overgrown chicken…” (Blueprint, Dec 6, 1973).
- A long neck, sometimes adorned with “porcupine-like quills.” (Ibid.)
- A body “which resembles that of a calf,” yet also described as dinosaur-like. (Ibid. and The Lima News, July 17, 1951, p. 2). It was sometimes “covered with a mixture of fur and feathers, with a growth of long hair under her chin.” (Blueprint, Dec 6, 1973).
- Red and green lights on its tail—another detail that became a recurring motif. (The Evening Leader, March 19, 1936, p. 1). Some claimed its “eyes did not reflect light, but did glow in the dark.” (Blueprint, Dec 6, 1973).
- Legs of differing lengths, “its long front legs and short rear legs,” supposedly causing a backward gait. (The Lima News, Oct. 20, 1930, p. 9; The Lima News, July 17, 1951, p.2).
- A distinctive “moaning sound like a cross between the cry of a yahoo bird and the whinee of a horse.” (Blueprint, Dec 6, 1973).
During this time, the Hoedag’s culinary connections became part of the lore.
Hoedag “dogs” (presumably sandwiches of some sort) were served at Midge’s stand, a playful nod to the creature’s reported existence. “HOEDAG dogs are being served at the Midget…” The Evening Leader proclaimed on October 30, 1930 (p.4). “The Paris Cleaners and Dyers is the first establishment to recognize the meat as a delicacy,” the paper joked, adding that tickets for the sandwiches were being given to local ball players. Names like Wilbur Macke, Elmer Kohler, Robert Reed, and others were listed as patrons – “IN case anyone sees any of the following smacking his lips he’ll know that he has had the hoedag sandwich.”
Eve Lea Weighs In (1930–1931)
The witty Eve Lea, columnist for The Evening Leader, became a key chronicler and often skeptical commentator on the Hoedag phenomenon. When Midge insisted the creature wasn’t far, she quipped:
“The hoedag isn’t in New Jersey,” Midge insisted. “He’s down at the Feeder with his 36 young ones.”(The Evening Leader, Aug. 20, 1930, p.4)
To which Eve replied in her Tel-Scopes column:
“Well then, I suppose we should send pies and not questions.”
She wasn’t done. In her column on October 29, following the Halloween parade appearance, she famously published a mock request from the H.T.&T.’s “Fun and Joke Committee” (Gus Wehrman, Jim Long, Roy Heap, Yock Smith, Pearl Lawler) asking members “to kindly donate fifty cents toward buying chewing gum for the hoedag on Halloween.” Eve cheekily suggested an investigating committee obtain used gum instead, doubting the animal would care, as “it would save wear and tear on its teeth and gums.” Some Hoedag followers reportedly took exception, arguing the creature “is not effeminate enough to use chewing gum but prefers tobacco.” (The Evening Leader, Oct. 29, 1930, p.4 & Oct 25, 1930, p.4). And by February, she’d offered her final judgment:
“NOW that’s a use for the hoedag… Outside of the fact that we think the hoe-dag is the ugliest animal ever seen, we never had any thoughts concerning it.” (The Evening Leader, Feb. 4, 1931, p.3).
Eve Lea even mused on a report of the “Jersey Devil” in her “Tel-Scopes” column on August 11, 1930, questioning if there was some connection with the Hoedag. As she wrote in The Evening Leader, the H. T. & T. had told her the Hoedag “can move like lightning and is one of the most elusive third-animal, third-reptile and third-fish object that ever existed” (August 11, 1930, p.4). Her columns often reflected the playful back-and-forth between Midge’s tales and local skepticism, capturing the spirit of the evolving legend. She even blamed the Hoedag for random mishaps, like a tent pole breaking at Riley’s Point: “They think the hoedag did it.” (The Evening Leader, July 12, 1930, p.4).
III. The Hoedag in the Wild: Sightings, Escapades, and Elaborations (1934-1949)
The 1930s and 40s saw the Hoedag legend spread, fueled by Midge’s pronouncements and reported “sightings.” These tales appeared in the papers just as Midge told them—straight-faced, wide-eyed, and with just enough room for doubt. The creature seemed to develop a taste for mischief and pies, especially those belonging to official groups.
In 1934, after the Civilian Conservation Corps (C.C.C.) camp near Lake St. Marys humorously reported chasing the “prehistoric animal” away from their kitchen (“He came to a poor place to get in,” one boy cried as the beast whiffed the odor of pie), Midge claimed to have seen the fugitive Hoedag at a New Bremen ice pond. Had the C.C.C. boys and Lieutenant M. K. Benadum “actually frighten[ed] him away from their camp and so chase[d] him from the shores of the lake forever?” Midge was convinced he’d seen it. “I bought a number of pies to feed it,” Midge told the Evening Leader. “Had to do something to keep it calm after it got chased out of the C.C.C. camp.” Predictably, some H.T.&T. members scoffed, contending Midge was merely stretching the truth again. (The Evening Leader, Feb 21, 1934, p. 3; Feb 24, 1934, p. 1).
The Circus Elephants and the Hoedag Nest (1934)
Later that year, Midge offered a startling claim, expressing grave concern about an impending circus visit:
“Midge declares a few years ago when the Hagenbeck-Wallace circus showed at Gordon State Park the elephants ruined the ‘Hoedag’s’ nest killing numerous little ‘Hoedags.’” He issued an ultimatum that H.T.&T. members and C.C.C. boys must be “on deck” to patrol the beach. “I will positively not tolerate the big elephant of Dill’s Circus to take a bath where the Hoedag is nesting,” he declared, threatening to call on “Dillinger and his deperadoes” if necessary. (The Evening Leader, May 5, 1934, p.1).
The H. T. & T. shared this concern. According to The Evening Leader from an earlier year (though possibly misremembered or conflated by the draft’s source text regarding Simon Maned), members feared that “Hagenbeck and Wallace’s elephants might scare it and perhaps trample it to death, when they scamper into the waters of the beach for a turbulent frolic” (June 21, 1930, p. 5, contains text differing from the user-provided Article 2; the elephant fear is noted in the image, however). That same article notes the Ho-dag’s fondness for Pumpkin Pie, and that the association would likely use that as “a lure.”
The Rowboat Attack (1935)
In 1935, a particularly vivid account surfaced—an unnamed oil man’s rowboat encounter with a Hoedag described as “about fifteen feet in length, has four legs, the front legs being much longer than the back-ones, has long shaggy hair about six inches long and a very large mouth with teeth about fifteen inches long and neck about six feet long.” The ferocious beast reportedly “bit off one of the oars” before the man fought it off with the remaining grips and escaped to shore. Midge, relating the tale, added practical advice: “His hand was bitten so I told him to get water melon seed and make a soup out of that, as that is the only thing that will cure it…” (The Evening Leader, Jan. 5, 1935, likely p.1 or local news section).
By 1936, the Hoedag was reportedly “captured” and paraded through St. Marys, with the local National Guard even joining the hunt after a plea from Midge. The “hunt” itself was dramatic, preceding the town’s Fall Festival parade.
“The Ohio National Guards under the direction of Captain Thomas J. Needles this afternoon took up the search for the ‘Hoedag’ after ‘Midge’ Longsworth pleaded with them for their assistance,” reported The Evening Leader on October 13 (p.1). “The squadron took several pot-shots at this mysterious creature, but he succeeded in eluding the posse, although he was severely wounded.” The paper noted the swamp land was being scoured to locate the creature before the parade.
The Evening Leader also reported on Midge’s efforts to trap the Hoedag. He was “running his traps every two hours for the past week and has been attempting to lure him with pumpkin pies” (October 13, 1936, p. 1).
Somehow, between the hunt and the parade, capture was declared. The Evening Leader reported on the parade itself under headlines proclaiming the Hoedag’s appearance: “St. Marys wildest dreams came true last night and the most unbelievable sight was actually witnessed by hundreds of St. Maryans” (October 14, 1936, p.1). Gus Wehrman, president of the H T & T organization, gave a lengthy speech on the origin of the “Hoedag” at the event. “He explained that this pre-historic animal originated in Africa and was brought to this country by some big game hunter, probably Theodore Roosevelt,” escaping from an eastern zoo before finally being sighted near John Young’s landing. The captured Hoedag, along with “two young ones and two eggs,” was paraded through town, though the infants reportedly escaped during the capture. (The Evening Leader, Oct 14, 1936, p.1; The Lima News, Oct 14, 1936, p.1).
That same year, The Evening Leader declared:
“The Hoedag Returns—And This Time, He’s Hungry.”
The Hoedag, according to Midge, had gained a distinctive feature: luminous green and red lights on its tail (The Evening Leader, March 19, 1936, p. 1). “When he saw it the animal had luminous green and red lights on its tail which extended far out of the water. The red light glowed steadily while the green flickered on and off, Longsworth said.” The Hoedag was discovered, Midge said, after the Hunters, Traders and Trappers club “continued to miss food from its clubhouse. The hoedag was making off with the provisions, they found.” This linked the new lights feature directly back to the creature’s original pie-pilfering antics.
The Missouri Expedition (1938)
In 1938, Midge shared what may have been the most elaborate chapter in the Hoedag saga: a solemn trip to Cabool, Missouri, to attend the funeral of the “original” creature—and return with its eggs. Cabool, Missouri. June 1938. A heatwave hung over the Ozarks. The creature, Midge claimed, was found near the Piney River by a farmer disturbed by strange lights (“a red and then green light”) and cries. Midge, invoking his H.T.&T. duty, went to investigate. “Caught between 2 big rocks with one broken leg and couldn’t move,” he later told the Evening Leader. “Poor beast was guarding two eggs. Wouldn’t leave ’em. My cousin shot her 5 times before she gave up and died.” (The Evening Leader, June 9, 1938, p.4). As Midge told it, he brought back two eggs, carefully guarded on the return trip.
“Midget Longsworth has just come back from another trip to Cabool, Mo., and this time he vows he brought back with him two of the hoedag eggs he told about seeing earlier in the summer. He had a terrible time getting them,” Midge related. He described the unique eggs: “shape of a banana about 24 inches long and 12 inches in diameter. They have a kind of a bark on them the color of a beech tree.” He claimed the eggs were precious—and protected them ‘like hoedag’s teeth,’ which, he said, were ‘as scarce as Czechoslovakians in Germany,’ guarding them with his life until he got them safely at Lake St. Marys. His bizarre plan? “Now he says they’re in the deepest part of the lake until the bark comes off.” (The Evening Leader, June 9, 1938, p.4; Sept. 15, 1938, p.4).
Midge even wrote a letter to The Evening Leader about the funeral, claiming he officiated. “I was the first one to her, the rest of the men were afraid. She was a brave old girl and was protecting 2 eggs when she broke her leg.” (June 9, 1938, p.4). He also noted the brand on the creature, a crucial piece of identification: “The reason I know she was our Hoedag was on account of being branded. It’s been quite a few years back the H.T.&T.’s had a Hoedag supper one night… The night we branded her, the letters standing for several of our charter members, Jim Long, Yock Smith, Jim Townsend, Frank Shelly, John Young and our President Gus Wehrman… She awoke too soon due to the fact that several of our members stole the rest of our pumpkin pie.” Midge had a difficult time retrieving the eggs. He wrote that he had a time “convincing these men that I should have the eggs. I happened to have an article clipped from the Evening Leader in regards to this creature,” finally securing the prize “Jacked in the rear seat of an open air Ford sedan.”
The following spring, in 1939, Midge was back at John Young’s landing, spinning a new yarn – a veritable stink-bomb of a tale, if you’ll pardon the expression. He claimed one of those Hoedag eggs, so carefully anchored in the lake the previous autumn, had washed ashore on the south side. And, well, things had gone… rotten. When Midge examined it, the egg, he said, had rotted through. Upon bursting, the stench was so foul, so utterly Hoedag-esque, that Midge reportedly had to bury his clothes! The second egg, however? Ah, that was a different story. That egg, Midge insisted, had hatched. And not just any old hatch – it was a twin hatch! According to Midge, two young Hoedags were now roaming the wilds of Lake St. Marys, no doubt already eyeing the pie supply. Naturally, the Hunters, Traders, and Trappers began plotting a search, even tossing around the idea of a reward for any soul brave (or foolish) enough to report a sighting. (The Evening Leader, April 17, 1939, p.4)
Sightings continued. On July 8, 1944, Midge declared, “The hoedag has come back to life,” connecting a reported “Celina Monster” sighting (a strange photo in the Celina Standard of a “marine monster”) to his creature, adding conspiratorially that “He just seemed to be happier down at this end [of the lake]. Maybe it was because the lunches he swipe[d] were easier to get or more numerous.” He was sure the Celina monster was just one of the hatched Hoedags. (The Evening Leader, July 8, 1944, p.1). By August 9, 1944, Midge was proposing an elaborate, satirical expedition to capture the hatched Hoedags, complete with a satirical rulebook invoking “The Book, Page 22, Second Verse,” a list of participants (including ‘Gust Wehrman, chief scout; Joe Wehrman, egg carrier; Roy Heap, keeper of the pies… Fred Longsworth, chief cook and bottle washer; Frank Meck, the doctor; Leaping Lina, the nurse…,’ and Floyd Titus, who, Midge promised, would “give the hoedag a once over for a hair cut” before departure), mentions of branding the creature again (“Jim Townsend gives a bucket of red paint. Jim Todd is supposed to put the paint on wherever is needed”), and even plans for “Hoedag Stew,” suggesting remarkably regenerative properties for the beast, perhaps hinting at the later legend that “her meat grows back when cut.” (Blueprint, Dec 6, 1973). Midge’s satirical wartime campaign proposed delivering one of the creatures to Japan to help win the war—traveling by water, of course, ‘by hand,’ and renaming Bougainville “Hoagsville.” He even recruited “four men… from New Bremen,” a small diving crew who, according to Midge, recovered the very eggshells from the east shore—proof, he insisted, that the Hoedags had indeed hatched. Other reports included finding ostrich feathers on the eggs (“Who wants Ostrich-Hoedag?”) and more sightings into the late 1940s, often tied to Midge’s insistence that the Hoedag was only quiet due to the post-war sugar shortage impacting pumpkin pie production. (The Evening Leader, Aug. 9, 1944, p.5; July 28, 1945, p.4; Aug. 9, 1945, p.5; June 21, 1946, p.2; Oct. 17, 1946, p. 1; Aug. 21, 1948, p. 6; June 2, 1949, p. 4).
IV. The Hoedag Endures: Legacy, Revival, and Reinterpretation (1951-Present)
By the time Midge passed in 1951, the Hoedag had grown into more than a lake legend. It was part folklore, part funhouse mirror—and wholly his.
Midge Longsworth died in 1951. His obituary in The Lima News (July 17, 1951, p. 2) noted that he “possessed a remarkable talent for originality.” Some said that’s what made him a good cook. Others, a great storyteller. It confirmed his role: “He was the originator of the ‘hoedag’ story, started 28 years ago when the Hunters, Traders and Trappers club met regularly at Lake St. Marys.” The same obituary included a familiar description, cementing his version of the creature:
“A creature with red and green lights, legs of uneven lengths, with a body somewhat akin to a dinosaur’s—only on a smaller scale.” It added that Midge “adapted the story to suit the occasion whenever any unusual happening occurred at the lake, always blaming the incidents on the ‘hoedag.’”
Whatever his role—instigator, interpreter, or just the one who fed it—Midge and the Hoedag remain inseparable.
The tale could have ended there—with pies uneaten and eggs submerged—but like all good lake stories, it kept resurfacing. In 1957, the Van Wert Times Bulletin (May 16, p.21), reporting on the discovery of a 20-foot “dragon” prop made of chicken wire near Route 29 and New Knoxville road, directly connected the find to the lingering Hoedag tales:
“Finding of the dragon revived the story of the ‘hoedag’ at Lake St. Marys. The hoedag is a strange animal which moves forward when it appears to be in reverse and makes a habit of stealing pies from club meetings and picnics.”
In the decades since Midge’s passing, the Hoedag has taken on new forms. An alternative origin story, treated as oral tradition likely dating from circa 1950 (shortly after Midge’s death), suggested the creature originated from a parade float swept into the lake during a storm (referenced in The Evening Leader, Oct. 3, 2023, Brent Melton). A December 6, 1973 article in the Memorial High School newspaper, Blueprint, by Maggie Dine and Mike Anderson (reprinted April 12, 1974), further codified the legend, based on oral histories and archives. This influential piece added details like the creature being “shy and quiet, starved for affection” (a contrast to earlier tales of fierceness), having feet “like those of an elephant, however, not webbed,” possessing a “hump on her back similar to that of a brannigan bolt,” and, perhaps most remarkably, that its meat magically regenerated – “her meat grows back when cut.” Edward Fusk’s well-known illustration, depicting a creature with a serpentine body, a mix of fur and feathers, chicken-like feet, and oddly placed eyes, accompanied this article and became the defining image for many.
The Lake Improvement Association (LIA) played a key role in the modern era, launching the “Save the Hoedag” campaign in 2011, complete with a new illustration by Adam Harruff and tying the creature’s fate to the health of the lake (The Mercer County Chronicle, August 18, 2011, p. 10). The LIA adopted the creature as a mascot, arguing, as VP Mark Piening stated, “The Hoedag represents not just a mythical fantasy, but the whole of the issues at Grand Lake St Marys” (Ibid.). The LIA’s 2014 “Name That Dredge” contest, won by “Hoedag” (LakeImprovement.com), further solidified this connection.
This modern Hoedag, often based on Fusk’s drawing, while drawing on earlier descriptions, frequently features a more settled image: part serpent, part hill creature, with a proud hump, mismatched eyes (one green on the forehead, one red on the tail), and chicken-like feet that left very confused tracks. The creature’s appetite, once focused on pies, has expanded in recent years—if the stories are to be believed—to include the occasional stray dog and a few nervous locals (derived from Blueprint/LIA summaries).
Another divergent version—this one involving a revived fossil, university labs, and the mysterious origins of hot dogs—surfaced in a 2020 article in The Guardian, Wright State University’s student newspaper. (Samkalensky.com). It was wilder than anything even Midge imagined. But that’s the thing about stories like this: once they slip into the water, they start swimming in all directions.
The adoption of the Hoedag as the official mascot of Wright State University–Lake Campus in June 2024 (Samkalensky.com) represents the culmination of this revival. Over the years, the Hoedag has taken many shapes. Whether it ever bit an oar or stole a pie, it certainly stole something else: the spotlight.
And yet, no matter what shape the Hoedag takes—be it beast, mascot, or whispered memory—its soul remains in the stories passed between neighbors, traded across lunch counters, and stirred into campfire smoke. It lives in the grin Midge wore when he said too little, and in the headlines that said too much. As Midge might have said it best himself, recalling the failed pie-luring attempt: “No sense stirring him up if you don’t have pie.”
The Hoedag may or may not walk backwards, but its legend has always moved forward. One pie at a time.
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