‘Why do you spell “Almanack” wrong?’ Well, it ain’t ’cause we don’t know no better. Presumably, Kin Hubbard knew, too, despite having dropped out of school in the seventh grade. He, according to legend and printed “fact” in early Brown County Almanacks, was the originator of the unorthodox spelling. Hubbard — for those of you, like me, who wondered, upon first visiting the county, who all those cut-out cartoony characters were, peering from odd corners of town — was the originator of “Abe Martin of Brown County.” Hubbard’s pen-and-ink drawings and pointed wisdom, spoken by the Abe Martin character, first appeared in the Indianapolis News in December 1904. Within seven years, his cartoon and country wit were syndicated and made Brown County famous. Over the years, until his death in 1930, Hubbard published five Almanacks full of Martin’s sayings, as well as articles purported to be written by Martin’s neighbors — other cartoon figures Hubbard created. The Almanacks, according to Indiana University professor emeritus David S. Hawes in “The Best of Kin Hubbard,” were intended as parodies of “Poor Richard’s Almanac” or the “Old Farmer’s Almanac.” And so, they followed the format of being organized by month and containing advice according to the seasons. For example, “In operating a corn shredder a farmer should always caution his wife against getting her apron caught in the machinery while he is in town playing pool.” The Brown County Democrat, publisher of the Brown County Almanack since at least the 1970s, used to lean on Hubbard history in every weekly paper. That’s according to the recollections of Keith Fleener, who’s been lurking around
The Democrat office since 1979, and Mike Lewis, editor from 1986 to 1998. “Greg Temple (owner and publisher of The Democrat, 1970 to 2002) was very keen on preserving all those old ties to that heritage of Abe Martin,” Lewis said. The misspelling of “Almanack” was just Temple’s style. “He was such a contrarian, anything that didn’t look like the rest of the world was very much up his alley,” Lewis said. Temple, however, wasn’t the originator of the Brown County Almanack. According to a blurb in a 1974 issue, he and The Democrat staff revived the tradition in the early 1970s that was started by Brown Countian Tom Hensley in 1965. Hensley’s quarterlies also spelled Almanack wrong. Despite their questionable grasp on grammar, the early Brown County Almanacks — like Hubbard’s — contained a whole mess of indispensable wisdom. There were recipes for backwoodsy delicacies, like Booger Hollow Bean Mess (First steps: “String, snap and wash four pounds of green beans. Cover with four cups of water. Add one pound of ham chunks. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer all day.”) There was an extensive schedule of goings-on downtown and up hills and down hills around the county. (“Public square dances in the street in Nashville” every Saturday night. “Muzzle loading and musket shoot, 10 a.m., across from the landfill off Railroad Road. Sponsored by the Thunder Creek Long Rifles.”) And there were bits of history from the hill country, with headlines such as, “There’s gold in these ’ere hills!” “Horse drowned in a bucket,” and “Pen up your goats, bulls and jackasses.” Today’s Brown County Almanacks still carry the spirit of contrariness and different-ness just for the sake of it by maintaining the wrong spelling. So, in case you were wondering, we ain’t dumb; we’re just stayin’ in touch with our history. Sara Clifford has been taking a shine to ol’ Abe and his cartoon cronies since becoming editor of The Democrat last fall and reading up on local history. To regale her with local lore, offer opinions or hurl complaints, you can find her at The Democrat office on Main Street most hours of the day and most days of the week. Brown County Almanack Visitors Guide • Spring 2010 • 5