Dice, Democracy, and a Bindles of Bashful Moments in Hoxie
Caught in a Roll‑Call Reckoning
In a tiny Arkansas town where the mayor’s favorite pastime is quilting, the aldermanic race went the rest of the way to an unexpected toss of fate—a literal dice roll. Betting that destiny had a grain of grainy humor, the 65‑year‑old incumbent Becky Linebaugh landed a lucky six, while her contender, 33‑year‑old Cliff Farmer, rolled a four. The six keeps Linebaugh’s seat for a third stint, and the farmers later had to do a “secondhand jingle” when the tables turned.
What Made the Runoff a Close Call
On November 6th, none of the three candidates in the small city of Hoxie—population roughly 2,700 and about 120 miles northeast of Little Rock—managed to grab a majority. That led the Lawrence County Clerk’s Office to schedule a runoff on December 4, when the tied 223‑223 tally was resolved with a quick dice game. A local courthouse discreetly set up the dice, and the result decided who would sit on that council table for the next year.
Becky’s “Early‑Bird” Gambit
Linebaugh, a bank bookkeeper who likes to keep her ledger neat, dropped a famous line during the runoff: “The main thing is for people to get out and vote.” She’s been voting early for the good measure, warning that if she had missed the window, she could have lost the seat. An early‑voter who picks a registered precinct before the poll opens is a no‑lose card—she felt safe in her decision, leaning right on the parallel of careful planning.
Why Early Voting Matters
- It ensures a safe spot, free from the rush that can turn a neat schedule into a tail‑spin.
- It helps you avoid the “last‑minute” panic that sometimes turns into a stumble.
- It demonstrates a commitment to the vote, showing a passion that resonates with fellow citizens.
Cliff’s Chronologically Confused Journey
Farmer’s experience with the polling place was less smooth, as two scheduling mishaps barred him from casting a ballot. With a typical day of work followed by a flight to Memphis, Farmer anticipated arriving in Hoxie at 6:30 p.m.—just with enough cushion for the 7:30 p.m. shutter. Unfortunately, the courthouse had already closed at 6 p.m. on November 29, and the runoff day proved no better: he overshot the window because of a flight delay and a runaway time machine. He couldn’t get a vote in the crucible of the runoff.
Key Takeaways from Farmer’s Fraught Journey
- Never underestimate the closing time at the local polling station.
- Carry a clock—or a phone with world‑time sync—to keep tabs on the local time in your city.
- Double‑check your travel itinerary to make sure your arrival is well before the precinct drops the curtain.
One Word From the Bounty of Missteps
Farmer, standing on the edge of a lost outcome, addressed the nation with his own memeish mantra: “It doesn’t matter what you’re doing—get out there and vote!” He shrugged off the adjustments, turning failure into a cautionary tale for all campaigning in the 595‑year‑old era of “getting out there.”
Final Roll: A Lesson in Persistence and Timing
Whether it’s rolling a dice or hitting a deadline, Hoxie’s precinct taught a hard‑faced lesson: timing, foresight, and the will to act matter more than luck alone. And as the locals settled for the winner, they also settled down to craft a future where each voter remembers that every moment counts.
