The beat goes on and on and will when I am gone. Agincourt continues to emerge from the shadows, as well, in interesting ways.
The ethnic mix of Fennimore county has always been hazy. Possibly the most exotic short-term resident was Kropotkin, the knife-man, a refugee from the first Russian revolution of 1905. Kropotkin was a mysterious figure who sharpened knives and then, just as mysteriously, disappeared from town when the Pinkerton detectives began to ask questions.
Dominic said very early in the process that he intended to create a larger and more permanent Eastern European presence and I can say from our conversation this afternoon that he’s done an admirable job. The story is tight and concise, the characters delineated with care, and the physical evidence of their presence well conceived and toughtfully detailed—including a place for Orthodox services.
There is also a brewery (with a convincing timeline outlining its evolution from 1917 to the present) and a suggestion where the several families had lived. I mentioned that Milt Yergens would be a source for some of the sociology involved: What happens to a small tight-knit community, defined by its religion, language and customs from the majority of the population. How do second- and third-generation family members integrate—or not? These may become a part of the story—or not. What is important is the integrity of Dominic’s story thusfar.