McKinney is a workhorse: No lounging in a bedroom playing video games or scrolling an iPhone. He handles three summer jobs as a canoe rental crew member, little league umpire and babysitter. A bait stand was supposed to be his fourth job.
“I started planning for summer and thought a bait stand on the farm would be perfect to work on the weekends and maybe make a little money,” McKinney says. “I want to be a doctor in the future, and I’m willing to work hard and save money any way I can.”
“I was proud because I decided to put the stand at the same spot where my grandfather has sold crops and vegetables since he was my age, at the end of our farm driveway.”
Almost at the edge of Spooner Lake, Foss’ driveway is part of an 80-acre farm, the last sliver of land representing decades of production in dairy, alfalfa, grain, and vegetables. Since 1976, Foss has hauled deer corn, pumpkins, squash, eggs, wood, and golf balls to end of the drive for roadside sale in a wagon, stand, or atop benches.
In late fall 2024, as a high school sophomore, McKinney raised worms for months in his parent’s garage, preparing for lakeside sales to coincide with the kickoff of fishing season in May 2025.
As school time allowed, McKinney and his cousin, Jax Foss, 14, hammered and sawed for three weeks under a pole barn at the farm. They built a 6’-x-15’ shed on skids, covering the studs with board and batten, and topping the lumber with tin.
“Mainly, I stocked the worms I raised, but I added snacks, water, soda, several kiddie fishing poles, bobbers, and some t-shirts printed with my stand name: Spooner Lake Bait Store. Then I waited for customers and it was awesome because people stopped by and encouraged me.”
“Under agricultural zoning in this county, you can have a roadside stand, but only for fruit, vegetables or ag products,” Beers adds. “He has a bait store. That is not allowed.”
Foss filed a formal complaint days after receiving the county’s cease-and-desist letter. “I went into the main office and the officials were defensive right away. I requested a site visit and asked them to come take a look at Max’s stand. They refused. Their response was, ‘Our decision is final,’ and they also said, ‘No stores allowed,’ while talking about a boy selling worms and t-shirts. The whole thing is beyond crazy.”
The forced closure of McKinney’s bait stand is indicative of a deep “disconnect” between rural America and government at multiple levels, Foss says.
“We stand up for the plain truth and common sense. There’s no way this type of bureaucratic crackdown on a kid selling bait would have happened when I was a teen in the 1970s. Things have changed to an alarming degree that’s very, very serious. I see these overregulation stories from all over the country.”
“People should be disgusted by this because it doesn’t pass the smell test,” Foss concludes. “Nickel-and-dime a 15-year-old on a farm over zoning like he’s an outlaw? No. My grandson, Max, is the kind of kid this country needs more of.”
I hope that this becomes fodder for national news and the county gets hammered with same. it is the way to stop them from ruining an enterprising man's future. Here you may add expletives to describe these bureaucrats.
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