I’m not as up to speed as I should be on voodoo.
My first exposure to voodoo was watching “Gilligan’s Island.” A regular story line had some type of witch doctor creating little voodoo dolls of the Skipper or Gilligan and making them do all sorts of crazy things.
I also remember back in 1980 when George H.W. Bush called Ronald Reagan’s financial policy “voodoo economics.” Later that year, Reagan asked Bush to be his vice president. Go figure.
But according to published reports, a defeated Cobb County commissioner allegedly paid money to a voodoo practitioner to unleash a little voodoo on her opponent.
George Ann Mills is a voodoo high priestess who lives in Blythewood, S.C. I tried to find her phone number, but could not find her name or any listings under “Voodoo” in the Yellow Pages.
Mills told authorities that Commissioner Annette Kesting came to her and asked her to perform a death ritual on Kesting’s opponent, Woody Thompson.
In fact, she killed a rooster and three hens in a cleansing ritual for Kesting.
You just can’t make this stuff up.
They never did any poultry slaughtering on Gilligan’s Island. They only had a guy wearing a tribal outfit with lots of paint on his face who would make a likeness of Gilligan, red shirt and all, and then poke a sharp stick into it. The result was that Gilligan would dance around like a chicken with his head cut off. That pales in comparison to what this woman was asking for.
When George Ann, the high priestess, said she wouldn’t perform the death ritual, the commissioner reportedly asked if she could cause Thompson to have a bad wreck or get cancer.
Voodoo is not cheap.
Commissioner Kesting, who incidentally lost to Thompson, is said to have written two checks, one for $1,000 and another for $2,000 to Mills. Both of them bounced.
Writing hot checks to a woman who practices voodoo is not smart. Asking her to voodoo out your opponent is just plain nuts. Unless you write a newspaper column, then it becomes golden.
George Ann advertises her voodoo can heal cancer and get your loved ones out of jail. It comes with a guarantee.
I’m not saying she’s wrong, but if this stuff really worked, why are there bail bondsmen and not voodooers located near your local graybar motel.
She told a newspaper in South Carolina that she has 14 gods living inside and outside her home. She gives them whiskey for energy and food to make them happy.
If that’s the case, I’ve got some departed relatives that may well have been voodoo gods and I didn’t even know. We wondered if some of them went to heaven. They may be in Blythewood.
I’ve been covering politics in Georgia for a long time and we’ve had some folks who were colorful characters.
There was Nick “Reagan” Belluso, who wanted to buy time on an Atlanta TV station with a hypnotist, who would hypnotize voters in to voting for Nick, who was running for governor.
Also in the race for governor was Mac McNease, who pulled an electric chair behind his car touting the idea that capital punishment should be carried out on the local courthouse steps.
For years, I thought they were a bit strange, but thanks to a little voodoo, they suddenly seem very sane.
Harris Blackwood is the author of “When Old Mowers Die.” His e-mail address is firstname.lastname@example.org.