|Fig.1: The Toledo Strip, home to the Toledo Strip Mall with a Dunkin Donuts, |
a Krispy Kreme, and a Tim Horton's all in one convenient location!
|Fig.2: The proposed boundary of Michigan (yellow dotted |
line) and location of Toledo (orange star) according to
Mitchell's map, and a map not made by a complete idiot.
The worst thing about this is that nobody really noticed the mistake for another thirty years. It wasn't until Michigan asked to apply for statehood in 1833, with the Toledo Strip included in its territory, that Ohio said, "Whoa whoa, hold the phone!" despite the fact that the telephone was another forty years away. Ohio was successful in convincing their popular friends, such as cheerleader Pennsylvania, homecoming queen Virginia, and book-smart-but-still-cool Maryland, to vote against Michigan's admission to the Union. All Michigan had in their corner were those nerds Connecticut and Massachusetts, as well as the make-believe state of Delaware, and you're not going very far up the social ladder with those guys at your lunch table. And so Michigan decided to take matters into their own hands...Rambo style. In 1835 Michigan governor Stevens T. Mason (fig.3), who was only 24 and was feeling confident because his voice recently dropped, ordered for the arrest of all Ohio officials in the Strip, as well as anyone who complied and paid their taxes to the Ohio government. Ohio governor Robert Lucas did the same, ordering their citizens not to comply with the Michigan laws or else they would be arrested. I have this sudden urge to read Catch-22 for some reason...
|Fig.3: Stevens T. Mason is still |
the youngest state governor in
American history, evident
by the fact that he looks like
he belongs in One Direction.
Of course in typical fashion, the federal government just had to step in and meddle with the conflict, even though the two states obviously had it under control with their openly hostile governments, vigilante armies, and vendors selling ripe melons to lob at opposing citizens. President Andrew Jackson sought to find a perfect solution to the conflict, and by that I mean a solution that would benefit him and his Democratic Party. He realized that even though Michigan had every right to the Strip based on the original language of the Northwest Ordinance, they were just a measly territory, while Ohio was a full-blown state with influential representatives and electoral votes and farmer's markets that make absolutely delicious peanut butter fudge. If he ruled against Ohio, he and his party would lose all of that, and there would be no chance that his hand-picked successor, Martin Van Sideburns, would become president or enjoy that fudge ever again.
|Fig 4: God knows how many |
centipedes there are here. Yuck!
And so ended the Toledo War, or as some call it, the First American Civil War (nobody calls it that). At first, it seemed as though Ohio won out since they were given the economic boomtown of Toledo, and Michigan was stuck with just that bankrupt sludgehole they call Detroit. But copper and iron ore was discovered in mass quantities in the Upper Peninsula towards the end of the century, and the benefits naturally just evened out from there. Things are better between the two states now: on the eightieth anniversary of the war in 1915, Michigan and Ohio's governors shook hands over the agreed border (fig.5), and promised to only let out their raging aggressions for one another when the Wolverines and Buckeyes play annually in football, basketball, and Quidditch. Hopefully there will not be another conflict between states in America again...at least until Pennsylvania and New York rightfully team up and divide New Jersey between them. They have it coming to them.
|Fig.5: Michigan governor Woodbridge Nathan Ferris and Ohio governor |
Brutus Buckeye shake hands over the finalized state border.