Harold "Cherokee" Allinson
DIRIGO, KY: An Adair County village has mysterious, almost mythical aura
Arkansawyer bought whole town, lock, stock, and barrel, 20 years ago
Several photos accompany this story
By Ed Waggener
ed@columbiamagazine.com
A never ending story: Tips, facts, anecdotes, corrections, and photos, maps, and directions are welcome for additions from time to time
To most Adair Countians, Dirigo, KY, is a place of mythical proportions. Nearly everyone has heard about it. They know it is in Southern Adair County. And the main resident, a transplanted Arkansawyer, is about as famous as any among us.
Because so few Adair Countians could actually recognize Cherokee, or have ever seen Dirigo, the man and the place retain a aura of mystery.
It is an enchanted place. Nestled in a pretty southern Adair County valley on Harrods Ford Creek.
For those only knowledgeable of the major Adair County towns, it is southeast of Sparksville, East of Breeding, and west of Chance and northwest of Inroad.
Mayor, judge and town council is Vietnam era veteran
Harold "Cherokee" Allinson, Vietnam Veteran, is the Mayor, Judge and Town Council, all in one, in the now private village of Dirigo in southern Adair County.
Unlike actress Kim Bassinger's disastrous experience buying the entire Georgia town of Brazelton, Cherokee's town is now one of long term stability and normalcy. His governance and proprietorship has has been more of preservation than development.
Dirigo hasn't changed much. Cherokee putters with the buildings, making slight changes, but basically it's got the look of a half century ago.
The community's, i.e. Cherokee's, financial soundness is a result of low expenditures and a very high soldier's retirement, he says.
For the most part, there is little agri- or horticulture. But Cherokee does have some kiwi plants growing. They've never borne fruit. Grapes he's planted did bear, but not for his benefit. "The deer ate them," he says, "before I could get any." Cherokee has a wall of medals and says he turned down the Congressional medal of Honor "because they wouldn't also give them to the two Montaignards who had fought beside me."
He says missed getting one medal for some rowdiness
He says he also missed one award after socking a Colonel, whom, he said, cheapened the awards by landing some officers, flown onto the post-fighting battlegrown, by helicopter, for the sole purpose of putting the non-combants into a combat arena so they could receive medals. "Here we were with 350 dead bodies around us," he said scornfully, "and they do that."
He still relives his wartime experiences, pointing to the flag and sign he made with 7 bullet holes in it, from brutal days on the battle field.
Too many movies in his head to watch others about Vietnam
He says, ". . .naw I don't watch no movies about Vietnam, there's already too many movies in my head . . .my mind goes a million miles a minute." ........ While in Louisville he says he got a notice from the draft board back in Arkansas. They were going to draft him, but, at 18 he jumped the gun and joined the Army. He volunteered for Special Forces, and ended up in Vietnam, he says. ....
You understand the Fourth of July here
By Amy Wilson
HERALD-LEADER STAFF WRITER
INDEPENDENCE RIDGE, OVERLOOKING PICNIC - The ridge road is high and filled to overflowing with early morning mist. The creek bottom is low, filled to overflowing with grass, black-eyed Susans, butterfly milkweed, native Kentucky cane and -- where Gary Firkins has managed to put it in -- tall, impossibly green corn. ....
It is also important to know that just off Independence Ridge, just after passing through Howard's Fork Creek, Cherokee Allinson lives alone with AK-47s, car parts, his Northern Lights Canadian whiskey, a beagle named George W. and everything he can't forget from 1969.
Allinson, 58, is a Vietnam War veteran with a Silver Star and two Bronze Stars, citations for valorous conduct, heroism in battle and gallantry in action.
The medals he displays are old, rusty, dirty and mounted on poster board. He can, even dead drunk, recite his name, rank and serial number, which is also tattooed on his arm alongside the words "I don't care if tomorrow never comes."
It came.
An Arkansas native, Allinson moved to this collection of old hill shacks, demolished cars and mangy dogs 14 years ago. The first thing he did was build a monument to the fallen and raise a POW-MIA flag to the top of a pole that he swears is perfectly straight. Being just one guy, he shot the monument seven times in a scaled-down personal version of a 21-gun salute. He takes time every day, he says, to "thank those who died so we can exist in the good old U.S.A."
He likes it way out here. As understatement he explains that after the war, "I had a problem readjusting."
Allinson says he was in the Special Forces and has the right papers to back that up. He says he was a scout, once staying 121 days by himself watching the enemy and relaying positions. ....
Reach Amy Wilson at (859) 231-3305 or 1-800-950-6397, Ext. 3305, or awilson1@herald-leader.com.
