Sunday, March 23, 2003

Die, a Yellow Ribbon

(to the tune of Tony Orlando’s “Tie a Yellow Ribbon”)


You sent me to the nuthouse for all time

Like I promised you, I shot my way outside.

Now I’m on a bus to your house, ‘cause a shotgun set me free

Before I get there, you’d best do just what I told you.

Cause it’s exactly what the voices said to me.


Tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree

And that will prove that you belong to me.

Surrender to my will, and I can set you free.

But if I don't seen a ribbon round the old oak tree

I'll stay on this bus

Forget about us

Go on a shooting spree.

If I don't see  no yellow ribbon ‘round the old oak tree


Bus driver, don’t you look at me.

It's up to her whether you live or if you bleed.

I told her very clearly, just what I need to find.

Precise, detailed instructions.

To silence all the voices in my mind.


Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree

It's been three long years

But they can’t hold me.

If I don't see a ribbon ‘round that mother**kin’ tree

I'll stay on this bus

Forget about us

And take these folks with me.

If I don't see a yellow ribbon ‘round the old oak tree


Now the whole damn bus is screaming

And I can't believe I see …

There ain’t no f**king ribbon

Round ...


I’m happy to say this horrible tale has a happy ending. Based on the sworn testimony of the song’s unnamed woman (Sarah Abernathy), the state of New Mexico committed her stalker boyfriend (Clark Hardbar Jr.) to the Stillwater Institute for the Criminally Insane on June 16, 1969. Before Hardbar was subdued, he swore to stage a violent breakout and stated his irrational demands to his former lover. Instead of living in fear or attempting to flee, Abernathy prepared. She immediately enrolled in a rigorous marksmanship course designed for New Mexico law enforcement officials. Abernathy stood out in the class and endured initial ridicule, but ultimately earned the respect of her classmates. Six months later, Abernathy earned the highest sharpshooter rating in her class. Even so, she continued to practice over the next three years, becoming perhaps the deadliest sniper in the United States, at least outside the military. On April 4, 1972, Hardbar initiated a brutal escape from the mental institution. After stabbing an aged security guard with an improvised blade weapon, Hardbar seized the guard’s sidearm and shotgun. He then grabbed a hostage, and went outside the institution, where he commandeered a tour bus of unfortunate Suguaro Cactus aficionados. Once inside, he ordered the driver at gunpoint to take him to his former home. After traveling approximately two miles South, Hardbar spotted a Shell gasoline tanker ruck moving in the opposite direction. Employing his shotgun, he fired into the vehicle as it passed, causing the truck to jackknife in a violent explosion, thereby  blockading the two-lane highway from law enforcement officials in pursuit. Upon hearing news of Hardbar’s escape (which Abernathy had anticipated—and repeatedly warned complacent officials at the insane asylum) she immediately positioned herself on the ridge of an arroyo behind her house. Her position offered a line of sight to any vehicle’s possible approach in the road leading past her house—a sightline framed by the dead branches of the infamous oak tree. As the bus approached, Hardbar was standing behind the front window in order to see the oak tree in question to confirm if Abernathy had wrapped it in yellow ribbons as he had commanded her. When Hardbar saw that the tree was ribbon-free, he experienced a moment of shock. Abernathy had anticipated this reaction as well—and put a bullet between his eyes with a Heckler & Koch PSG1. There were no other casualties—and her action was deemed self-defense by New Mexico law enforcement officials. In 1977, Abernathy told her harrowing story in a best-selling novel, “Stuff that Yellow Ribbon Up Your Ass,” and eventually sold the film rights to the novel to the Lifetime Network, which adapted it as a best-selling miniseries in 1983. Her lawsuit against the Stillwater Institute for the Criminally Insane was also highly successful, offering lucrative but undisclosed compensation to herself, the passengers and drivers of the tour bus, and Hardcore’s victims. Her lawsuit against Tony Orlando was not successful. Abernathy alleged that he had stolen and adapted Hardbar’s original raving lyrics as sentimental drivel. As the original manuscripts had been presumably destroyed and the characters in Orlando song were unnamed, the court ruled against Abernathy—although the judge scolded Orlando with a stern, non-legally binding rebuke to the effect that his music sucked. Abernathy currently lives in an undisclosed location near Taos, where she continues to teach the art of marksmanship to a class of female students drawn from Taos’ middle schools.  


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