08/22/2026
Carmi Fest: The Eclipse Came and Went… Did Anybody Ever See the Final Numbers?
A couple years ago Carmi prepared for the 2024 eclipse like we were about to become Nashville, Vegas and Bonnaroo for one glorious weekend.
The City Council unanimously authorized Mayor Jeff Pollard to spend up to $60,000 on entertainment for Carmi Fest.
At the time, Pollard told council members there were already sponsors committed for roughly $40,000 and said something very important:
The event “shouldn’t cost the city anything.”
Even better, the goal was to make money, bank the profit and use it to help create an annual Carmi festival.
Sounds great.
So The Carmi Timez has one little question:
Where’s the final scoreboard?
# # FOLLOW THE MOON. THEN FOLLOW THE MONEY.
By February 2024, officials reported around 300 tickets sold and said sponsorships were still being pursued.
By late March, roughly two weeks before the festival, that number was around 500 tickets.
Tickets were roughly $45-$50.
The festival grounds were reportedly capable of holding thousands.
Then the eclipse happened.
The bands played.
Everybody stared at the sky.
The moon moved on.
And apparently so did the accounting, because we haven’t been able to locate a nice, simple public document saying:
TOTAL MONEY IN: $____
TOTAL MONEY OUT: $____
CITY TAXPAYER COST: $____
PROFIT/LOSS: $____
MONEY BANKED FOR NEXT FESTIVAL: $____
Seems like something that should fit on one piece of paper.
# # “FINAL NUMBERS AREN’T READY”
At the April 16 council meeting after the event, the mayor said the final Carmi Fest figures were not available yet.
Fair enough.
It had just happened.
Then in May, WRUL hosted the mayor and city clerk for a program specifically discussing the festival’s income, expenses, what went right, what went wrong and what was learned.
WRUL even described Carmi Fest as an event that “didn’t live up to the hype.”
So presumably somebody eventually had the numbers.
We’d just like to see them.
Not because we're accusing anybody of stealing money.
Not because we've uncovered the Great Eclipse Heist of 2024.
But because when taxpayers authorize up to $60,000 after being told an event shouldn’t cost the city anything, asking what it actually cost seems like a fairly reasonable follow-up question.
# # AND THEN THERE’S RALLY POINT
Carmi Fest was presented by the City of Carmi and produced by Rally Point Events.
Rally Point’s founder, Lance Yearby, is a former Carmi alderman.
Before anybody fires up the Facebook conspiracy machine:
That alone proves absolutely nothing improper.
Former aldermen are legally allowed to continue existing after leaving office.
But with public money involved, there are still ordinary questions worth asking:
How was Rally Point selected?
Was there a contract?
What were they paid?
Was there a production fee?
Were other companies considered?
Who collected ticket revenue?
Who paid the performers?
Where did sponsorship money go?
Again — boring accounting questions.
Unfortunately, boring accounting questions occasionally become very interesting.
# # ABOUT THOSE SPONSORS…
Remember that approximately $40,000 in sponsorship commitments mentioned when the council authorized the entertainment spending?
Who were they?
How much was actually pledged?
How much was actually collected?
Did $40,000 turn into $40,000?
$25,000?
$10,000?
$63 and a Texas Roadhouse gift card?
We don't know.
Which is the whole point.
# # AND WHAT ABOUT THE MONEY WE WERE GOING TO “BANK”?
The original pitch wasn't merely that Carmi Fest would break even.
The stated hope was that it would make money and leave enough behind to help fund future festivals.
So…
Did it?
Is there a Carmi Fest account somewhere?
How much went into it?
How much is still there?
Was there no profit to bank?
Did the city lose money?
Did it break even?
All three are possible.
We just haven't found the clean final accounting that answers it.
# # MAYBE THERE’S A PERFECTLY BORING EXPLANATION
There very well may be.
Maybe sponsorships covered nearly everything.
Maybe late ticket sales exploded.
Maybe Rally Point absorbed certain expenses.
Maybe the city broke even almost exactly.
Maybe the entire answer is sitting in a city ledger waiting for somebody to ask.
Great.
Show us.
Because the easiest way to stop people from wondering where money went is usually to show them where the money went.
The Carmi Timez isn't accusing anyone of wrongdoing.
We're asking a much more dangerous question:
Can we see the receipts?
If anyone has the final Carmi Fest income-and-expense report, sponsorship totals, ticket settlement, contracts or council documents showing exactly what the festival ultimately cost — or earned — send them our way.
Until then, the eclipse may have lasted four minutes.
The mystery of the Carmi Fest accounting is going on two years.