An old story but cute, taken from Betty Olsons Grand River Roundup column

A large jet plane crashed on a farm in the middle of rural Kentucky.  Panic stricken, the local sheriff mobilized and descended on the farm in force.

  By the time they got there, the aircraft was totally destroyed with only a burned hull left smoldering in a tree line that bordered the farm. The sheriff and his men entered the smoking mess but could find no remains of anyone. They spotted the farmer plowing a field not too far away as if nothing had happened. They hurried over to the man's tractor.

  "Hank," the sheriff yelled, panting and out of breath. "Did you see this terrible accident happen?"

  "Yep, sure 'nough did," the farmer mumbled unconcerned, cutting off the tractor's engine.

  "Do you realize that is Air Force One, the airplane of the President of the United States?!"


  "Were there any survivors?"

  "Nope. They's all kilt straight out," the farmer answered. "I done buried them all myself. Took me most of the morning."

  "Then you're saying that President Obama is dead?"

  "Well," the farmer grumbled, restarting his tractor, "he kept a saying he weren't... but you know how bad that rascal lies."