Tuesday, May 26, 2026

Eddie Paul Coop: The Big Wheel and the Sad Hammer

This is another in a series of stories about the colorful history of Seventy Six, Kentucky.

Eddie Paul Coop, right, shakes hands with Rep. Hal Rogers in 1982
as Mitch McConnell, then Jefferson County judge-executive, looks
 on. Coop was county Republican chairman. (Clinton County News)

It’s hard to believe that The Big Wheel has been dead for 20 years.

When you mention The Big Wheel, a lot of older folks in Clinton County immediately know who you’re referring to. For the younger people who don't, you sure did miss quite an experience. The Big Wheel was a memorable character.

Eddie Paul Coop was born and raised in Seventy-Six. Except for a few years living in Casey and Russell counties, where he worked at the radio stations there, he was a lifetime Seventy-Sixer.

E.P. was named for Senator Ed P. Warinner, another native of Seventy Six. That may have helped pique his interest in politics, and he sure stayed interested in them for his entire life. His father, a local constable, tragically died in a shootout when Eddie Paul was only a year old.

For all his adult life, Eddie Paul was a radio man. He hosted morning shows on the Russell Springs, Albany and Burkesville stations, and always had a following. His memorable line was, “It’s time to roll and go.” For years he referred to his constant companion, his dog Tadpole, as being by his side.

Eddie Paul was certainly creative, as well as entertaining. He authored one of the funniest Kentucky Derby fictional race calls, with jockeys aboard, which played locally every Derby Day, with Herman “Humdinger” Conner, well-known for his prominent snout, winning the radio race by a nose.

E.P. was quite the mischief maker. He could tell anything with a straight face, or, if on the radio, a solemn demeanor.

Jeff Hoover tells a great story about when Eddie Paul did Russell County basketball games for the Hoover family's radio station years ago. E.P. and Scott Hamm were doing the game at McCreary County, and when they got there, the telephone line was down and they weren't going to be able to transmit. Eddie Paul didn't let Scott know this important fact, and proceeded to set up and start talking as if they were on the air.

Something happened in the game and E.P. said Coach Allen “Feldhaus is mad as hell!” Scott waved his arms and motioned for Coop not to use that language on the airwaves.

E.P. went on, and a short time later, a questionable call occurred, and he proceeded to use very strong and prohibited language, with his comrade telling him all the while, “You can’t SAY that over the air!” Finally, after Eddie Paul had gone completely wild with outrageous talk, and Scott had gone to pieces listening, E.P. revealed to him that they weren't on the air and hadn't ever been. We don't think they rode back to Russell County together.

E.P. attended various government board meetings for Albany’s WANY, and if the news was slow he would make news, coming up with something controversial to make the news himself. In ways, he was brilliant. He could stir things up better than anybody in the county. He would take a position on nearly every issue, and nearly every political race. He was among the plaintiffs who filed suit to challenge the first version of the county occupational tax. He also filed a lawsuit to set aside magisterial redistricting. Things would happen if E.P. was around. And you always knew where he stood on every issue.

If he was on your side, there was no better ally. If he was against you, you were in for a hard fight. He might decide he was mad at you and you'd never understand why. You just had to treat him like he wasn't mad and then you’d see him and everything would be fine. But you'd soon know who else he had decided to be aggravated at instead of you.

He got the name "Little Wheel" at Robert York's store at Seventy Six, where most people in the community acquired their nicknames. As he grew older, that evolved into "The Big Wheel." He feared no man but had a heart of gold, doing a tremendous amount of good works for the people of Clinton County.

E.P. was commissioner of the local softball league and was known to get a bit riled up at the ballfield. He served many years as Republican election commissioner and also served as Republican county chairman. His brother Billy Joe was property valuation administrator for 31 years, but Eddie Paul ran for office only once, for magistrate, as an independent. It’s too bad he lost. It sure would have been a quite eventful four years of Fiscal Court meetings.

One of his favorite lines was about “the sad hammer” being put on someone due to their bad conduct. That term is a Clinton County original, a phrase he coined and promulgated. 

In trying to recall the origin of the phrase, we recall him telling the story of a young, naïve fellow who hadn't been seen in a while because he had been in jail. When asked how he fared in court. The poor fellow advised that everything seemed to be going very well for him until the judge brought down his gavel and ordered him to jail.

As the fellow colorfully put it, “I was doing real good until that ol’ judge brought that sad hammer down on me.”

And that’s how a memorable, unique local phrase was born.

 


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