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Mainly because of the meat

Nathan VanderKlippe
Northern News Services

Yellowknife (Oct 23/02) - For a few hours every Friday, Fred Couch becomes a capricious autocrat, an iron-fisted leader whose very whim becomes law.

NNSL Photo

Andrea Sluggett shows off the meat she won at the Forty Below raffle this weekend. - Nathan VanderKlippe/NNSL photo


Microphone in hand, he presides over his temporary fiefdom of 100 or so people in a bar, selectively bestowing favours and yelling and cajoling people into parting with their dollars.

"Young lady, pick me a ticket please!" he orders, and when she obediently makes the selection he reads off "193657."

When no one comes forward, his followers get grumpy.

"Call again! Call again!" someone yells from the crowd.

Strange thing is, no one seems to mind Couch's choices in picking people from the crowd. In fact, they look like they're having fun.

Of course, there's something in it for those plunking their bills on Couch's table: a chance at winning huge portions of meat. Every week Couch and fellow meat raffle organizers buy $500 worth of meat at Extra Foods and bring it to Forty Below, where they quickly get rid of it.

Depending on your luck, you can get a really sweet deal. A buck will buy you a strip of five tickets. If your ticket gets drawn, you get your pick at massive portions of packaged meat.

Andrea Sluggett came away with steaks and a roast.

"I don't have to go shopping," she says and glances at her packages. "That's a good frickin' meal."

All money raised at the draw goes to the benevolent fund, and already this year Couch and the fund's other directors have given well over $10,000 to the hospital and several thousand dollars to lunch programs at different elementary schools in town. The Forty Below raffle is one of three in town: the Legion and the Elks Lodge also host the popular events.

"It's a tension relief on a Friday night," says Couch's daughter, Rosie Blair who gives a few hints on strategy, then resigns herself to one fact: winning seems to depend more on a strategically-placed horseshoe, she says.

Luck or no luck, Couch is still temporary dictator and no one has diplomatic immunity.

"Is the guy from the newspaper still here?" he asks the crowd, then zeroes in on the uncomfortable-looking reporter. "You didn't buy tickets. You will buy tickets the next round."

And, funny thing, the reporter did get in line. After all, Couch's law is the law -- and charity is charity.