The Evenin' Shadders

A four-year term as a Cleveland County commissioner pays — and it pays well. With the general election heating up for the county’s District 1 commission seat, many voters are preparing to decide whom they will pick to replace the late Bill Graves, the long-serving commissioner who died in April due to complications from surgery. The winner will be the third member of a three-man board which meets weekly to address the issues involving county government. And gets paid well for doing it. According to Cleveland County Clerk, Tammy Howard, each member of the commission is paid “about $70,000” per year. “They also get travel expenses,” she said, “but I’m not sure if that’s considered a part of their actual salary.” County records indicate that all three of the county’s commissioner made well over $70,000 in 2006, including: • $76,367 for Commission chairman George Skinner. • $76,367 for the late commissioner Bill Graves. • $76,367 for former commissioner Leroy Krohmer. Those salaries are al

This November, the State of Oklahoma becomes a senior citizen. It’s our 100th birthday. And what a century it’s been. Born amid the flurry of horse’s hooves and billowing dust clouds, the Sooner State came into the union as an awkward, rough-and-tumble child. We started out with a “boom.” The agriculture and oil industries flexed their financial muscles and the 46th state of the union quickly took off. We fought over a capital and even today, continue the argument. By the 1930s, the rains would stop. And the fields — like the oil and agricultural revenue — would dry up and, literally, blow away. Some would migrate to California. Those who remained became Okies. And whether you agreed with John Steinbeck or not, it seemed — at the time — that the Almighty was angry with us; still we continued. Slowly, we regained our footing and rebuilt what we had lost. We’ve had our share of saints and scoundrels — men and women who, for better or worse, left their mark on the Land of the Red Man. The

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that males — little boys, teenagers, dads and even old, wrinkled grandpas — like tractors. Big red tractors. Little yellow tractors. Ancient, coal-black beasts which belch dark smoke and move slowly, like dinosaurs. Or the new bright, shiny green and yellow ones which zip across the dirt. Yeah, guys like tractors. In fact, some farmers say — jokingly — that the love of tractors is genetic. At least in Cleveland County. So it should come as no surprise that the county’s fourth annual Pioneer Expo drew huge crowds, square dancers, rain and food. And tractors. “I believe we had between 8,000 and 10,000 people,” said Wayne McPherson, president of the Cleveland County Fair Board. “It was a great event. We had a nice crowd.” Two-year-old Charlie Kidder would agree. Charlie — wearing a floppy, multi-colored hat — his mom and his dad, Chad, spent a good portion of their Saturday at the expo. “Charlie loves tractors,” his dad said. “This morning