BY JIMMY JELLINEK
A long time ago, in a different decade, the era of the feathered mullet and Webster, before cable snaked
its way into most homes, there were shows about cops and cars, and they were the best. If you were a
guy and owned a Big Wheel, your driveway doubled as Hazzard County. Quiet Midwestern suburbs were
regularly pierced with hillbilly cries of "yee-haw" as another child launched himself off the porch, and every
Saturday morning, emergency rooms were full of eight-year olds who had tried to jump a creek in their
Green Machine.
Before sex or recreational drugs, cars were objects of obsession. TV shows such as Knight Rider, Starsky and Hutch, and The Dukes of Hazzard brought our dreams to life every week. And while most people stopped wanting to own one of these fantasy cars around the time they hit puberty, Pearl Cornett, a 33-year old T-shirt maker from Salem, Indiana, has spent nearly 20 years making his dream come true. Today, he travels the country in a trailer with his wife, April, and his General Lee, going from one Dukes of Hazzard festival to another.
Inside his trailer is a mobile museum, a shrine to all things Hazzard. He has Rosco P. Coaltrane's uniform, newspaper clippings, Dukes T-shirts, playing cards, trading cards, books, models - and he sells everything Dukes-oriented.
Today is the first day of Cooter's Country Jamboree in Sperryville, Virginia. The two-day Dukes festival has been dubbed the "redneck Woodstock," and besides an appearance by actor John Schneider, aka Bo Duke, Pearl's shiny General Lee is the main attraction. Pearl has the car's hood up, allowing all to see the painting of Bo, Luke and Daisy on its inner panels.
Of all the Generals at the jamboree, Pearl's is in the best condition. He bought it in 1995, and he and his wife painstakingly rebuilt the entire car. "About seven years ago we decided that we could afford to get one, and we hunted and hunted and we found this one. It was all torn up, and we had to redo the whole car," Pearl says. It was recently appraised at $25,000.
It seems that most people never drive their Generals and leave them in a trailer for show. "I don't do
that," Pearl says. "I love my car - it's a part of my family - but don't put that car up on a pedestal. "In fact,
he drives it just about everywhere. "I drive it to the store, but I never get out," he says. "You don't leave
it alone in parking lots." His main difficulty seems to be errant farm animals that take an almost human
interest in his car. "We drive it to my dad's place in eastern Kentucky, about 300 miles from where I live,
and his chickens watch the General pretty good. We found five chickens and two eggs inside the car. At
least they left us something to eat."
In his hometown, Pearl often invites Sonny Shroyer (Deputy Enos) and Jimmy Best (Rosco P. Coaltrane) to come down and participate in mock police chases. He'll get the police together, go out on rural Indiana roads and tear around in the General. "Jimmy and Sonny kind of got scared. They started yellin', 'slow down, you're goin' too fast,'" Pearl says in mock horror.
Owning the General Lee has guaranteed Pearl a life beyond his small-town environment, which is ironic considering that the Duke Boys were prohibited from leaving Hazzard County. But for Pearl and his wife, the General is a ticket to ride. "Next week we'll be in North Carolina with Wynonna, Naomi and Ashley Judd. We couldn't do it if we didn't have the car," he says.
Pearl, like many Dukes fans, sees the show as a throwback to a simpler time when people cared about one another and their community. "To me, the whole world would be a whole lot better if we could live the show," he says. Bo and Luke represent the outlaws who were willing to stand up for the little guy. "Bo and Luke, and don't forget Daisy, they stood for the community against the wrong that was Boss and Rosco," he explains. "Today, nobody will stand up in the community for anything."
There is no such thing as Hazzard County, it only exists on a back lot somewhere in Hollywood, collecting dust. But try telling that to the folks who have lined up in the rain for three hours on a frigid October morning, waiting for Bo Duke to pose for pictures with them by the General Lee. Another huge throng gathers around Cooter (Ben Jones), waiting to get his autograph and some words of wisdom. Question after question is fired at him regarding specific moments from specific episodes. It's like that Saturday Night Live skit when William Shatner responded to Trekkie questions like, "In episode 134, what was the combination to the safe?" with "What's wrong with you people? Don't you have lives?" But Jones (who also has a six-year run as a Georgia Congressman to his credit) is a model of decorum, answering every Dukes question thrown his way. At one point he goes off to sing his theme song, an ode to his gift shop, with Cooter's Country All-Star Band. With a banjo pickin' in the background, he belts out, "Come on in, good to see your face, take a load off, dust that road off, come on in to Cooter's Place." As soon as he's done, he hops back into the pit to sign another hundred autographs.
Of course, the real star is Schneider - he's the one they've all come to see. Whenever he walks, a huge crowd follows, touching his clothes, wanting to shake his hand. A fat bald man in overalls and a Dukes T-shirt has Schneider sign the back of his neck; another guy waits, holding what looks like a piece of his car door. Pearl waited an hour just to ask Schneider to sing "Happy Birthday" to his daughter.
Both Jones and Schneider are acutely aware that people have adopted Hazzard County as their own. To touch them, to hear Schneider say your name, is to be instantly transported into Hazzard County, a hillbilly Shangri-la where right is right and good always triumphs.
HOW TO MAKE A GENERAL LEE
Making your own General Lee isn't as hard as it may seem. The first thing you'll need is a 1969 Dodge Charger. Back in '69, they sold for about $5,000. Today it's possible to find one in rough shape for less; one in decent condition, for around $8,000; in mint condition, more than $50,000. The Duke boys had a 440-cubic-inch big-block engine, which got eight miles to the gallon. If you plan on driving it, you could opt for a 318 or a 383 engine instead. One downer is that '69 Chargers ran on leaded fuel, so you'll have to install a new emissions package, which will slow it down a bit. the paint has to be "Hugger Orange," with a Confederate flag painted on the roof and the number "01" painted on the door. (Plastic sticker kits are available.) The vinyl General Lee lettering should adorn the side of the roof. The Dixie horn and CB radio antenna are available from J.C. Whitney Auto Parts. And finally, don't forget to weld the doors shut.
