Leadership. That's the word on the tip of everyone's tongue this election season.

Who is most qualified to lead this country? What will the next four — or eight years — bring? Where is this country headed economically, morally and socially? Will the Phillies re-sign Pat Burrell?

These are burning questions, and Americans demand answers. But they won't get them from me.

Instead, I will answer a burning question from two readers known to me only as "The Herr's," who ask, "Where in the world is Noodle Doosie?"

Using the old noodle

To address this question, I phoned Lancaster County's most authoritative historian. Unfortunately, he refused to take my call, so I will respond to it myself.

The question is not "where in the world" is Noodle Doosie, but rather, "where in West Earl Township" is Noodle Doosie?

I wrote a story about Noodle Doosie some 15 years ago, and it became something of a sensation nationally. Shortly after it was published, an Associated Press story about the town also appeared, followed by stories from other news services. The world experienced Noodle Doosie-mania.

That's right. Noodle Doosie goes by the name Napierville these days, because, evidently, someone thought Napierville was a less silly name. I suspect this was someone named Napier, although it could have been a really big fan of actor Alan Napier, who played Bruce Wayne's faithful butler, Alfred, on the old "Batman" TV series.

No pizza?

Noodle Doosie contains a dozen or so homes and one business that is, by some strange oversight, not a pizza shop.

Pennsylvania-German folklore regarding how the village earned its name involves two overeager men who got into trouble "noodling" with the same woman.

Since its founding in the mid-1700s, Noodle Doosie has spawned enough colorful characters to resemble a Pennsylvania Dutch version of Hooterville.

My favorite is a former Hessian soldier named Gen. Willembrock, who settled there about 1800. About 30 years earlier, while fighting for England in the American Revolution, Willembrock had been captured at either the battle of Saratoga or Trenton, or possibly both. After the war, he decided to stay in America.

Every Saturday night, Willembrock rode his horse to a nearby tavern named Die Rotie Kuh, the Red Cow, which still stands at Red Run and Fivepointville roads. There, at 3 cents a drink, he proceeded to prove that Germans invented beer and beer-drinking.

One night, too inebriated to get on his horse unaided, he was loaded onto it by some of the young bucks of the village. Since the horse knew the way home, they slapped its rump and sent it off, with Willembrock hanging on.

Meanwhile, the young men ran ahead to a stone bridge that spanned Muddy Creek, arriving before the general. They donned white sheets and hid beneath the structure until the general's horse arrived. Then they sprang out in surprise. The horse reared up and galloped away, carrying the pickled general, who hurled unprintable German words loudly into the night.

Then there was Jacob Fry, who was carrying a load of apples home to his mother one night when he, too, stopped at Die Rotie Kuh for rejuvenation. After tipping a few, he departed, then stumbled on a rutted dirt road and fell. Hastily picking up the fruit, he accidentally retrieved some "apples" of the horse variety.

So that's Noodle Doosie. Not the kind of town that would have Sarah Palin as mayor.

E-mail: lalexander@lnpnews.com