This is bonkers, and I am here for it.
Sheriff Dave Landersman said he started hearing about the group aiming to take over his county a few months ago. It began with locals reporting unfamiliar faces around the Loving County courthouse and the new community center in this sparsely populated, but oil-rich area near the New Mexico border.
It wasn’t that residents never saw newcomers. Thousands of workers come and go every day, servicing the Permian Basin oil and gas boom. But groups of Black women and children were unusual; the 2020 U.S. Census had counted no African-American residents here. Many of the recent arrivals were from out of state and seemed surprised by the harsh West Texas conditions — “city people,” Landersman said.
Keionta Hinton, the owner of Fat Boys Cafe and known as Miss Kay, said her first contact was in June, when two women, two men and a girl entered the restaurant. She likes to talk to customers over Louisiana soul food, the diner’s specialty.
“We’re here to take over your county,” she recalled one of the women telling her. “I’m going to be one of your commissioners.”
“She was very serious,” Hinton said. “Not playing around.”
Moving voters into a community to gain control of its government might be considered a far-fetched strategy if it weren’t for one fact: It is occurring in Loving County, which has a long tradition of doing exactly that.
In recent years, the community of fewer than 100 residents has been riven by bitter family feuds. To gain advantage in attaining and holding power, opposing sides have tried to game the voter roll, registering far-flung family members or offering residences to visitors for the purpose of claiming their vote.
The upshot: Loving County’s tiny electorate, its history of loose voter registration and the tens of millions of dollars of oil money splashing into its treasury annually has made it both attractive — and vulnerable — to an organized group of people wanting to wrest control.
“This is the perfect place to try something like this,” acknowledged Constable Brandon Jones. “It’s the chickens coming home to roost.”
In late June, Chief Deputy Larry Pearson drove northwest out of Mentone to find the new group’s settlement so the department could have a GPS position in case of a 911 call, a necessity in the nation’s least-populated county. About 35 minutes down rough oil company roads, he found an RV and what looked like a still unframed house.
A second visit revealed a cluster of RVs, tents and generators. As Pearson drove away, he received a call from a man identifying himself as Dr. Malcolm Tanner threatening legal action.
Backgrounding Tanner wasn’t hard. Tall, charismatic and a self-described “entrepreneur, philanthropist, educator” and “visionary leader,” Tanner leads an organization called Melanated People of Power, which he has described as a movement seeking political and economic opportunity for those traditionally disenfranchised. He boasts a sizable social media presence — 244,000 Facebook followers and 70,000 on TikTok. His posts explained Loving County’s newcomers.
“I’m out here in Texas. Loving County, Texas,” he said in a mid-July Facebook reel viewed nearly 2 million times. “If you want to get a home, and stop paying rent, your mortgage or even the taxes on it, we’re going to build y’all a home. Right here. For free. We’re hoping to have a hundred homes out here, with the intention of putting 2,000.”
In a video posted in July to TikTok, Tanner, who lists an Indiana address on Loving County appraisal records, summarized his longer-term intentions.
“Not too often do you see a brother that looks like me come into the county and take the entire county over,” he said. “Well, I have taken the entire county over, out here in Loving County, Texas. When these elections hit in 2026, we’re going to wipe the board. Everybody that I selected will be elected.”
At the cafe, Hinton said she has counted about 30 new arrivals as of late August, from Georgia, Mississippi, Oklahoma, South Carolina and Houston. The group recently attempted to register more than two dozen new residents to vote using a Mentone P.O. Box, according to Landersman, who doubles as the county voter registrar.
Tanner declined to comment. When Houston Chronicle journalists visited the group’s settlement to interview the newcomers, a resident called Tanner, who in a phone call accused them of trespassing and then sent a cease-and-desist letter to the Chronicle.
A day later, he filed a civil rights complaint against Loving County and its sheriff’s department in federal court seeking $450 million in damages. The county has denied wrongdoing and asked for the case to be dismissed.
You really need to read the rest. One minor quibble is that 70,000 TikTok followers really isn’t all that much. One source I found says that some 67K accounts have at least 100,00 followers, while another 42K have between 50,000 and 100,000. It’s not nothing, but it’s nowhere near the top of the charts.
Anyway. On the one hand it would be hilarious for a bunch of folks from all over the place move into Loving County and vote its entire county government out. That would be far from the strangest thing to happen in this weird, tiny county, but it would be the funniest. On the other hand, this whole thing has deeply strange vibes, and it would hardly be a surprise if a significant number of the people who were enticed to move there came to regret that decision. All I can say for now is that I hope the Chron keeps up its Loving County coverage. Every virtual trip there is just wild.
The end of the ability to register to vote in Texas at any address other than your residence might be on the horizon, and Loving County could be the catalyst.
When you register to vote, you are legally required to register at your residence, whether that be a home, apartment, or under a bridge at 59 & McGowan. There are a few exceptions for survivors of domestic violence and other rare cases, but that wouldn’t apply to those attempting to takeover Loving County. That also means no P.O. Boxes.
You can, however, use a different address as your mailing address, including a place or business or P.O. Box.
That doesn’t mean people don’t violate that and register at their vacation homes or place of business, anyway. I don’t know how often that happens, but it certainly was a massive issue in Loving County.
Last I checked, Loving passed Kalawao County, Hawaii as the least populous county in the US. Historically,Kalawao County was used to quarantine people suffering from leprosy and it still has restricted access. There is a significant gap between them and the 3rd least populous.
Loving passed Kalawao due to an earlier crackdown on non-residents claiming to live there so they could vote.