The Great Unknown Massacre of Cattaraugus County
An interview with the two men trying to break the largest government cover-up in the history of upstate New York.
By Will Weinke
I’d never imagined that parts of New York could look as desolate and backcountry as the most out-of-the-way corners of Oklahoma, but there I was. Machias, New York. Lil’s Deli. One of those multi-use convenience stores sporting a deli counter because other lunch options were in short demand in the small community.
Allegedly, hundreds of people were slaughtered by both civilians and rogue state police within a few miles of the deli’s front door. Altars of death and horror sprouted from the streets. Cannibalism and violence erupted on a scale Americans would never imagine in even the most dangerous neighborhoods in the country, let alone this sleepy ski town.
It was too crazy to be true, which is perhaps why no one heard of the events chronicled by The Hillbilly Moonshine Massacre, a new book by Jonathan Raab. The Afghanistan war vet grew up in the area and has traced the story back to a bad batch of white whiskey which sent an entire populace into a murderous rage.
And it only get’s weirder the deeper the story goes.
National media all but ignored the events, but a cult hero has grown out of the event’s aftermath. His name is Sheriff Kotto and his online tv show, Kotto’s Kreepies has become a staple of conspiracy theorists and stoner frat houses. I first heard of Kotto and the Moonshine Massacre when a colleague sent me Raab’s book, probably as a subtle tease after my own brush with homicidal cults and government cover-ups. I did a few web searches to try to jive the book’s reality with the reality portrayed by major news outlets, but only found a few mentions of storms and riots—nothing on the scale of the sinister and fantastic events contained within the book.
Raab, a polite and self-possessed writer with that jaded sheen I’d seen on other combat vets, arrived on time and we shared a quite, uncomfortable silence until the star of the show, Sheriff Kotto, arrived thirty minutes late in a smashed-up, rebuilt VW van.
The energy of the deli lit up when the patrons saw Kotto arriving. Two shabby gentlemen quietly excused themselves out a back door, but the other patrons murmured and chuckled as Kotto barged into the establishment. It was the amusement and awe we all felt when a person’s appearance immediately indicated the beginning of a future tall tale.
Kotto kicked a chair out from behind the table and plopped down, two bandoliers of brass ammunition clinking together as he settled in his seat.
Pleasantries were exchanged. Kotto’s handshake was unnaturally aggressive, but his smile was infectious. The interview began as one would expect after watching a dozen videos of Kotto’s Kreepies on Youtube.
WW: So, I don’t really understand why you brought a shotgun to a coffee shop?
Kotto: I don’t really understand why you didn’t. (Slaps Raab on the shoulder.) Didn’t this guy read the book? (To WW) Do you know where you are, sir? We got alien abductions, home invasions happening, seasonal-themed revenge monsters murdering yuppies, the Red Cross stealing people’s blood, pterodactyls and thunder birds flappin’ around. It’s gonzo out here, man. You know – Area 51, Skinwalker Ranch, Point Pleasant West Virginia … and Cattaraugus County.
WW:Hmmm. Indeed. Don’t you, at least, fear that the presence of heavy weaponry is unnerving the patrons and, to be honest, me as well?
Kotto: (Gestures to the few other patrons getting coffee and breakfast sandwiches) These are my constituents. Voting folks. They know me! They might even be fans of my TV show, Freaky Tales From the Force. Frankly, if they saw me and I wasn’t heavily armed, they’d probably panic. They’d think I was a pea person.
Raab: Pod person.
Kotto: Peas in a pod. (Downs entire mug of hot coffee). Now *I* have to pee.
WW: But I wanted… (Turns to Raab. Takes a drink of his coffee. Checks watch. Sighs.) So, I listened to a few of the podcasts and watched an episode or two of your youtube show and I’m a little suspicious that this is all just one big prank. Like an Andy Kaufman kind of thing.
Raab: Right, we get that a lot. But the events in The Hillbilly Moonshine Massacre are based on true events, places, people, phenomena. And I can see how people would think this is some sort of money-making scheme. Some bid for merchandising. Action figures, t-shirts, movies … But Sheriff Kotto is authentic. He’s the real deal. He just wants to protect the county. He doesn’t want to be a local celebrity or anything.
Kotto: (Returns from bathroom and slams shotgun on table, startling WW but not Raab) Sure I do. I absolutely want to be a local celebrity. This place gives me free coffee and breakfast sandwiches. And they’re willing to sell me tin foil by the pallet. That’s the kinda treatment only internet fame can buy.
WW: So, I am sure it is fair to say that your story hasn’t received the national attention that—I’m sorry, can you at least put the shotgun on the floor or something? I feel like it’s leering at me.
WW: Thank you. Okay, so you’ve been ignored by the national media, which is something I can relate to. I wrote a book with Charles Martin a few years back, the dominant hand, about a mass disappearance of Jim Jacobs’ cult. That event was dismissed in the media as something between a large scale practical joke and drug-induced mass hysteria. This is the only reason I’m here, to see if there is a link. But, to be totally honest, I’m a little put off by the fact that you are both clearly drunk. I guess there wasn’t a question there, but you see where I’m coming from, yes?
Kotto: I’m completely baffled.
Raab: He thinks you’ve been drinking. Uh, no, this is just how he is. As for me, there’s a difference between drunk and hungover. Sorry, I tend to get into the drink a bit when I come back here. This place … gets to you.
Kotto: Being drunk and hungover? It’s a fine line, one that true professionals—true lawmen—must walk. Every. Single. Day. Can I have some of your coffee? (Grabs WW’s mug, begins to slurp.)
Raab: We should probably get to the questions. He’s usually not this lucid at this time of day. I’m not sure how long it will last. When I interviewed him and his deputy for the book, I could only keep his attention in short bursts without resorting to blowing a dog whistle or dangling my car keys in front of his face.
WW: Right, I’ve covered music long enough to know how that goes. So, how do you police the occult, monsters, and ghosts? Do you just shoot whatever looks weird? How much science goes into your police work? How do you tell a malevolent Kreepie from a benevolent Kreepie?
Kotto: Well, there’s no law governing this stuff, but there are laws against murder, abduction, assault, and forcible anal probing. If you’re human or not, I’m gonna stop you from doing that.
Some of my work is purely investigatory in nature—for example, is there a Sasquatch in Allegheny State Park? If there is, I’m not gonna shoot him just because I see him. But I will get an arrest warrant if he’s suspected of stealing picnic baskets. Of course, it’s really difficult to arrest something that can phase in out of our reality by using mystical portals. But I have faith that with the proper training, preparation, and appropriate psycho-spiritual drug cocktail, the Catt County Sheriff’s Department can achieve great things.
WW: Okay. For the naysayers, do you maintain some sort of central warehouse of evidence where you can prove some of these wild claims? Also, do you have any intention of replicating your model for—whatever it is you call whatever it is that you do?
Kotto: On the record? Yes. Off the record? My basement, or my garage. You can print that.
Right now I’m focused on bringing this department back up to full operation. The budget got slashed a few years back because my predecessor got indicted on corruption and racketeering charges. Right now I’ve got enough money for a deputy, a couple of part-time dispatchers, some uniforms, gas, and ammo. I mostly spend our money on ammo. If the good citizens of Cattaraugus County read this ridiculous book, they might see the value in raising our budget. ‘Course, if this book sells well, I might just bring a lawsuit against Raab here and use some of that sweet sweet book money to expand our program. Then we can see about bringing our methods to other departments.
WW: I am not sure if this is the book to do that. (to Raab) No offense.
Raab: I’m just glad you’re paying for my breakfast sandwich.
WW: Have you considered moving your operations to areas that are more open-minded to—how do I say this? The potential of conspiracy theories? Texas or Arizona seem like prime candidates.
Kotto: This is where I’m from, and it just so happens to be a hotbed of nefarious occult, alien, and government activity. I’m needed here. But I will say this: the term “conspiracy theory,” or “conspiracy theorist,” well, those are just ways of dismissing a critical thinker. Did you know that those are terms coined by the CIA to smear political dissenters? Used to be, things like Bohemian Grove, the Gulf of Tonkin incident, Gulf War Syndrome, MK Ultra, the DOJ running guns to drug cartels – these were in the realm of conspiracy theory. But we know these things really happened, really are happening. I think maybe this country might just be a little better off if her citizens were a touch more … not paranoid. Awake. A little less likely to believe whatever the people in power were telling them.
Raab: I’m 100% convinced that we went to the moon, Sheriff.
Kotto: I’m never working with you again.
WW: Are there any conspiracy theories, spook stories, or monster lores too crazy even for you to believe?
Kotto: That depends on what you mean by “believe.” Yeah, there’s hucksters out there, and there’s people with mental illness. And then there’s people, fine, upstanding citizens, who see or experience something they can’t explain. People like you. Sometimes they say or think it’s aliens, ghosts, dead relatives, God even. Maybe it is. Maybe it ain’t.
We like to pretend that we’re the cream of the scientific crop, that we’re some advanced civilization, that we’re just a few discoveries away from mastering the universe. But you know what? We’re not. We’re not even close. I mean, we’re still kind of in the dark ages when it comes to understanding the world around us, let alone the world within. Hell, at least folks in the dark ages knew that the invisible world, the spiritual, the magical, the subatomic … they knew it could affect them, could intervene in their lives, even if they didn’t understand it. Now, if it’s not spouted off by corporately-controlled scientists on TV, it’s not real to people. That’s a sad way to see the world.
Are you going to eat that? (Reaches over and steals the other half of Raab’s sandwich.) This place’s got good food, yeah?
