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That means Klump has more chores than usual at the unpretentious ranch home he completed three decades ago in the Dos Cabezas, about five miles outside Bowie.
Wally Klump walks toward a chicken coop to fetch the day's output of eggs. On the way, he stops to pick a handful of tart but tasty cherries off a tree. He proudly points out the healthy pomegranate, peach, almond, pear, pecan, apple, plum, fig and apricot trees that dot his property.
"Sometimes I'll think back on the days before we got into all of this with the government," he says suddenly and sadly. "We had our problems, but they were work problems, how to get this done or that done. It wasn't about living or dying back then."
Back at the house, brother Wayne is on the telephone in the kitchen, trying to find a lawyer to help with his cluster of legal cases.
Wally Klump walks into the large living room, dominated by family photographs, books and mounted deer heads. He doesn't have a television set and until a few years ago an old generator supplied the power at his place. The generator still works fine, but the solar panels on his roof do the trick most of the time.
Like many of the Klumps, Wally Klump is a voracious reader: He studies the Bible and also reads weekly livestock publications and U.S. News and World Report from cover to cover.
Recently, though, he's been concentrating on an entry in an old encyclopedia titled "The History of White People in America." He says he's seeking references to government ownership of land in the nation's early days.
Wayne Klump finally gets off the telephone. No luck yet with a lawyer.
Wally Klump pulls a penny out of a pants pocket.
"What did they write on it?" he demands.
"In God We Trust.'"
"Okay, now, what's that on the side, across from the date?"
"That's what keeps me going," Wally Klump says, his voice rising. "I know the future looks bleak for us. I know they're going to try to break us, financially and otherwise. But I have faith that this is America. I'm talking about the spirit of America. That is what keeps me going, sir."
A CITY SCORNED WHAT'S UNDER THE ANGER AF... v6-24-92