issue of honor; the kids wanted to undondamage that had been done beforensome of them were born. The Spectrumneditor said the group planned tonhave “designated drivers,” and remindednZapites that “people aren’t like theynwere 20 years ago.”nEx-mayor Norman Fuchs was skeptical.nHe wasn’t worried about the fewnforty-year-olds who might return for annostalgic weekend; he was thinking ofnthe current crop of college and highschoolnstudents and what they mightndo. Still, Zap made on-again, off-againnplans, the younger citizens all for tryingnto get something good out of thenvisit, the over-50 crowd in favor ofnbarricading the road into town. Notnuntil eight days before the event didnthe city fathers agree to allow outdoornbeer gardens and cooking in the CommunitynCenter. “It kinda got thrownnin our lap,” said one member of thenCommunity Club, which decided tonhost a dance. Local nonprofit organizationsnwould provide food and portapotties,nand clean up the park. Thenathletic association would sell fleischkuechle,nsouvenirs, and last year’s ZapnDiamond Jubilee items, hoping to atnleast get a weight machine out of thendeal.nSaturday, May 6, 1989, dawnednwith a record cold temperature of 18°n(the old record was 22°); later in thenday it would get up to 70°. By noon,nthe little town of three hundred wasnbustling — with residents, that is. Zap’sndowntown forms a “T,” each sectionn44/CHRONICLESnA burgeoning population of grey squirrels appears to benthreatening the harmony of life in the South of England.nSo reports Charles Moore of The Spectator.nIt seems that a relative of Mr. Moore’s is particularlyndisturbed over this species’ passion for saplings, and sonshe has helped organize a cull of the grey squirrel. Muchnto her surprise, a gentleman from the local town attackednher for her insensitivity to this poor creature’s plight andntragic past. These animals had been brought to Englandnfrom America “against their will,” and they are utteriyn”confused” because of the tug and pull between thentownfolks who love to feed them and the less-sentimentalncountry-dwellers who would love nothing morenthan to kill them. As Moore writes: “Useless to arguenthat squirrels cause damage to living things or that theynhave driven out the much nicer red squirrels or that evennof which is a block long; all alongnthe “vertical” block, ten-foot trailersnhad been wedged between buildings,nand garage doors had been openednto sell food and souvenirs. Hand-letterednsigns offered fleischkuechle (surprised?),nIndian fry-bread (exactly whatnit sounds like), Indian tacos (taco ingredientsnin fry-bread), and even “sopapias.”nTalk about ethnic diversity! Husbandsnand wives made numerous tripsnon foot between their homes and theirnmakeshift places of business carryingncrock-pots full of hot nacho cheese dipnand sloppy joe mix. Two differentndesigns of T-shirts were on sale, as wellnas “I Zipped to Zap and Had a Blast”nbuttons, caps, and wraparound Velcronbeer-coolers. The Zap Diamond Jubileenbooks were displayed in the CommunitynHall, the top book openednaccusingly to the page chronicling thendisaster twenty years eariier. Eighteennextra officers were on alert in case thenMercer County deputies needed help,nand many of them ambled aroundndowntown, eyeing the drive-throughnspectators. But there were no kids to benseen.nBy late Saturday afternoon, thingsnwere only a little better. An estimatedn300 to 1,000 visitors had accumulatedn(it was hard to tell: they kept movingnaround, and the drive-through gawkersnwere still heavy). A 60-acre field on thenoutskirts of town was set up for an”Battle of the Bands” that never materialized,nso August Little Soldier,naged 75, and Carroll Smith, 83, per-nLIBERAL ARTSnON KILLER SQUIRRELSnnnformed traditional Indian dances. DJ’snplayed records in the street and fieldnthat night. On Sunday morning thenBismarck Tribune proclaimed, “Sequelnat Zap lacks 1969 Zip,” and “Zap isn’tnas zany.” A vendor of a truckload ofnpizza-by-the-slice said he was losingnmoney.nAround midnight Saturday, however,nZap got what it had wished for andnfeared: another several thousand people.nCars were bumper-to-bumper betweennZap and Beulah, nine milesneast. And things worked like a charm.nThe town’s two bars — the Little Dippernand the Lignite — wound up doingna great business. Older Zap residentsndanced in the street and in the fieldnwith Zippers. There were only aboutn70 arrests, and those people paid theirnfines and went back to the party. ZapnMayor Albert Sailer, aged 65, besidenhimself with glee, said, “I’m saved. Incan still walk uptown.” He had beennone of the few older Zapites in favor ofn-the reunion. Late Sunday afternoon,nZap children picked up litter, whichnMayor Sailer said wasn’t any worsenthan at the annual Lignite Jamboree.nNot a T-shirt, button, hot dog or piecenof you-know-what was left — althoughnthe pizza vendor says, philosophically,nthat he never did break even.nZap’s already busy planning “Zip tonZap III.”nJane Greer missed the first “Zip tonZap.” She bought a button and anbeer at the second one.nif you love grey squirrels you can have too many of them:nthe man clearly regards them as human beings whonhappen to be covered with fur and have bushy tails.”nMoore predicts that soon “there will be campaignsnagainst riding horses because it must be so horrible tonhave people on your back and pieces of metal in yournmouth.”nThen came the attack. Grey squirrels staged a raid onna local home for the eldedy. Squirrels were reported tonhave entered through the windows, stealing food andnbiting residents. Apparently the “poor grey squirrel”nperception of these ravenous creatures did not wash withnthe residents under attack. As Moore reports, one oldncountryman took a more “robust” view than his sentimentalnurban coevals. “Oi took up moi stick and wentnafter ’em,” he said proudly. (TP)n