Back to School: A Room With A Few

By Bennett Owen

A room with a few:

- Pupils

- A few desks

Fruita Schoolhouse, Capital Reef, Utah. Credit: Bills Travel Journal

- A few books

Credit: My-West.com

- A few grades – as in one through eight

Oldest schoolhouse in Montana, it served duty in Twin Bridges, Montana, but now resides in Nevada City, Montana. Credit: oldmantravels

- A few outdoor privies – one for boys, one for girls

And lots and lots of borderline juvenile delinquency. A basic fixture of our western heritage, the one room school is truly a trip down memory lane ... though to hear my Uncles tell it, it was more like a five- mile slog through heavy snow, muddy spring roads and untold, often cunningly creative diversions.  As the old saying goes, “in my day we had to walk 20 miles to school, uphill both ways.” And getting there was half, if not all the fun.

Fruita Schoolhouse, Capital Reef, Utah Credit: Billstraveljournal

The accounts of rural school life are surprisingly uniform. Teachers were often little older than the students they were instructing, the older kids tutored the youngsters, who benefited from listening in on the drills they would be subjected to a year or two down the road. There was also the added workload of fetching firewood, toting drinking water and myriad other daily chores.

Adobetown Schoolhouse, Virginia City, Montana. Credit: Sunni J.

It’s what the kids were up to when the teacher wasn’t looking that really makes for interesting reading, including some rambunctious boys who cornered a packrat and thought it would be funny to put it in the teacher’s desk drawer. Here’s my Uncle Jules with ‘the rest of the story …’

“After about an hour as the schoolroom became quiet, Miss Kelley could hear a noise in her desk drawer. Upon opening it out jumped the packrat. The teacher shrieked and literally had a heart attack! Aunt Wilda was summoned for first aid and Dr. Lee was called. Miss Kelley did survive but I don’t know the fate of those two boys.”

It’s strange how my uncle Robert’s eyes twinkle when hearing this story.

Polaris schoolhouse, Montana Credit: Montanaheritageproject

One-room schools were often a ‘Room With a Pew’ as well, doing double duty as a Sunday go to meetin‘ place of worship.

One-room schoolhouse and church is now a Daughter’s of the Pioneers Museum Torrey, Utah. Credit: My-West.com

In 1919 there were 190-thousand one-room schools operating across America. That has dwindled to about 400 as this school year gets underway. In our neck of the sagebrush, the Polaris School still opens sporadically … whenever a dozen school-age kids or more are living in the valley.

Sulu schoolhouse, Sulu, Montana Credit: Patrick_h

Do your homework because tomorrow’s post includes an eighth grade graduation test from 1895. The results WILL shock you. Hell, I could barely understand the questions!  In the meantime, here’s how one western teacher handled her unruly students:

Bill Pickett Rodeos – The Greatest Show on Dirt

By Bennett Owen

Credit: Frenchcreoles

The Bill Pickett Rodeo circuit is celebrating its 27^th year … a singular showcase for African American cowboys with four stops throughout the year capped off by a championship in September in our nation’s capital.  It’s a going concern. Last weekend, Hayward, California, just outside Oakland. Next weekend, Los Angeles. (tickets available online at www.billpickettrodeo.com)

The legendary Bill Pickett was a giant of the west, larger than life whose sweat, pride and ingenuity commanded respect and earned deep and enduring friendships. He was born in 1870 on a dirt poor Texas ranch, one of 13 children, and yet by the early 20^th century he was a star with the 101 Ranch Wild West Show…one of the great shows in the tradition of "Buffalo Bill" Cody. The two were good friends.  As rodeo came into fashion, Pickett performed in the granddaddy of ‘em all, the Cheyenne Frontier Days.

Credit: Frenchcreoles

There are many legends as to how Pickett invented one of modern rodeo’s signature events. My favorite has him spying his son in a pen with an angry Bull and wrestling the animal to the ground, in part by biting hard on his lip as he’d seen the cow dogs do. And thus the sport of “Bulldogging” … Steer Wrestling … was born.  (The action starts at about 1:00)

Another cowboy and film legend, Yakima Canutt, later said that the resulting sport of “hoolihaning" was so dangerous to both contestants and stock that it was outlawed, following a rash of injuries and death.

Credit: Paris, LA

Nevertheless, Pickett rose to stardom with the wild-west show, performing throughout America, Canada, Mexico, South America and Britain alongside Buffalo Bill, Cowboy Bill Watts, Tom Mix and Will Rogers.  His heroic feat of daring and bravery alongside Rogers in Madison Square Gardens is one of the favorite stories of my youth. Read it here.

In the 1920s, Hollywood beckoned and “The Dusky Demon” was featured in several films including “The Bulldogger.”

Pickett was roping wild stallions in 1932 when a bucking Bronc crushed his skull. His funeral was one of the biggest ever witnessed in Oklahoma and Will Rogers, on his radio show, eulogized his friend thusly: “Bill Pickett never had an enemy. Even the steers wouldn’t hurt old Bill.”

Credit: okstate.edu

His longtime boss and friend, Colonel Zack Miller of the 101 Ranch called him "the greatest sweat-and-dirt cowhand that ever lived." He also wrote an epic poem about the man and you can read it here.

In 1971 Pickett became the first African American inducted into the National Rodeo Hall of Fame. The Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame and Museum of the American Cowboy have followed suit.

Credit: Billpickettrodeo.com

Meeteetse, Wyoming - Amelia Earhart Slept - And Drank Here

By Bennett Owen

Credit: feministezine

It’s safe to say that, in terms of popularity, Amelia Earhart was the Angelina Jolie of her day ... wildly famous and equally wealthy, with an independent and adventurous, high-flying persona that resonated with the can-do mindset of the American public. She could have chosen any place in the world to settle down ... she chose western Wyoming.

And in doing so, became a regular patron at the Cowboy Bar. Amelia was a pint-sized pilot but like most of her profession, had nothing against knocking back the liquor on occasion.

In the mid-1930s, flying was still in its infancy and Earhart was at the top of her game. She and her husband, George Putnam, honeymooned at the “Double D” Dude Ranch near the ghost town of Kirwin outside Meeteetse. The outfit was owned by friend and fellow adventurer, Carl Dunrud.

Amelia Earhart and Carl Dunrud on the Double D. Credit: BBHC MCCracken Collection 

 Credit: Cowboy Bar, Meeteetse and My-West.com ©

Amelia fell in love with the mountain hideaway and there are rumors she fell in love with more than that …

Carl M. Dunrud and Amelia Earhart, 1934 at the Double D Ranch. Credit: Big Horn Basin Photos from Wyoming Tales and Trails,  Kirwin, Wyoming.

Credit: Cody Chamber of Commerce

She left instructions for a cabin to be built there as a home away from home after she completed her quest to become the first person to fly solo around the world. It was to be her last flight.

Credit: True West Magazine

Credit: Meeteetse, Wyoming.com

The ranch owner (and erstwhile barber) got to work on the cabin but stopped after hearing of her disappearance. She had already sent a lot of her possessions to Wyoming and years later Dunrud contributed some of them to the Buffalo Bill Museum in Cody including a flight jacket and a buffalo skin coat – an artifact from the Indian wars presented to her by William S. Hart, a famous actor of the time.

Credit: My Vintage Photos.com

Amelia Earhart and William S. Hart. Credit: archives.lib.purdue

You’ll need a four-wheel drive to get into the Kirwin ghost town and the remains of Earhart’s cabin ... crumbling ... unfinished ... waiting for her return.

Credit: Big Horn Basin Photos from Wyoming Tales and Trails, Kirwin, Wyoming c. 1930

Credit: Amazon.com

Larger Than Life – Cyclone Davis

Guest Blog by Tiffany Mull, for her Grandfather on Father’s Day

Maj. Davis, Commander of the 35^th Squadron by his P-40N, Tsili, Tsili, New Guinea, 1943. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

Emmett Smith “Cyclone” Davis was a Colonel from World War II, and he got the nickname “Cyclone” for a reason.  This cocky fighter pilot was renowned for his “dog fighting” skills.  He was one of a dozen pilots that made it into the air the day Pearl Harbor was bombed, and he saw the war through to its end, serving as the escort for the Japanese envoy to set the terms of surrender.  

Pearl Harbor.  Credit: Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

He stopped an F-100 with his teeth and lived to tell about it.  In a night landing, his nose-gear collapsed.  He opened his canopy fearing the plane would explode and wound up hitting the barrier at the end of the runway. The barrier slid up and whacked him across the jaw.  

Major Emmett S. Davis being awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross by Gen. George C. Kenney, 1943. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

Born in Roosevelt Utah, to a cowboy daddy and a pioneer mom who lived in a tent, Emmett was small in stature, but tough.  Whenever his family moved to a new place, other kids would pick on him and his brothers because they were small and poor.  Without fail Emmett would lick those bigger kids and rule the roost.  He began work early, selling apples on the roadside.  He placed value on hard work and always helped support his family (he was still sending his mother monthly checks when she died at one hundred and three).  He had to work for everything he got, and this scabrous upbringing helped make him larger than life.

Lt. Col. Davis, second from the left, and three of his brothers, visiting their four-star mother. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

This poor boy from Northern Utah saw the world as a respected Commander, and then Colonel, in the air force, and he brought his rough-and-tumble Western attitude into the sky with him.  Emmett earned the nickname “Cyclone” in the war, and he goes by it to this day. 

 

Col. E.S. “Cyclone” Davis. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

As a Colonel in the Air Force he survived high flying rodeos of fire and death and his nickname is credited to a tactic he used to shoot down enemy aircraft.  When he got in a “dog fight,” he’d let the enemy follow him around in a circle.  Cyclone would spiral his plane upwards, with the enemy in pursuit.  At just the right moment, Cyclone would pull the throttle back and rocket his plane straight upwards in a vertical line.  The enemy was confused.  After going straight up for a little bit, Cyclone would stall the plane and let himself freefall until he was sufficiently below the enemy.  Then he would wrench the plane back in gear, and shoot down the bogie.  This is how he came to be known as “The Cyclone.”  The group he commanded was known as “Cyclone’s Flying Circus” because of the wild and successful aerial tactics they employed.

Cyclone’s Flying Circus. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

Cyclone lived life to the brim – and was never afraid to see it spill over once in a while.  He married his sweetheart after the war on January 23^rd 1946, and together they travelled the world. 

Cyclone with his sweetheart Marge. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

Cyclone, Marge, Tucker and Pam. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

In the fifties he and Grandma would hold sock hops and invite ten or fifteen couples from the base to their house to dance shoeless until the sun came up. He served in the military, usually as a commander, for twenty-four years.

Cyclone with Marge, Pam, Tucker and Kim, the youngest. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

After retiring, Cyclone worked for Hughes Aircraft for another twenty years. After his second retirement, he had more time to enjoy golf, and even took up painting.  In later years he found out he had macular degeneration and would slowly go blind. Rather than give up or enter into depression, he went to the Veteran’s Blind School in Palo Alto where he learned to use a talking computer, and how to perform safe woodworking.  To this day he continues woodworking, building shelves, desks, or birdhouses.  He goes by feel, memory, and the little peripheral vision he has left.  He’s never too busy to help with a scout project or a pinewood derby car.

There was a period during the war when foot soldiers were getting accosted and killed by Japanese infantry men who laid in wait in caves on the island of Biak.  As a kid Grandpa was a dead-eye pitcher in baseball.  He decided to take matters into his own hands.   Cyclone got in his plane with a pile of grenades and flew by the caves, chucking grenades into them out of the cockpit.  He was a hero, in actuality, but also in the eyes of his children and grandchildren. 

Cyclone with grandchildren: Brandon, Bryson and Summer Mull. Credit: Mull Family Archive all rights reserved.

Emmett is still a cyclone of a man.  At five foot eight, he is larger than life.  He turned ninety-two in December, 2010.  Nowadays he’s pretty tired, and pretty fragile.  He has to sleep with an oxygen tank.  He has a pacemaker.  He can’t go for long walks as he used to just a decade ago, but he still walks laps about the house.  His mind is as sharp as ever, his wit sharper than the radial arm saw he loves so much, and he hasn’t lost his thirst for adventure.  Just two years ago he took a neighbor up on an offer to ride around on the back of his motorcycle.

What the Blazes – Everything’s Big in Texas

by Bennett Owen

Feel the heat: The Texas Forest Service undertook controlled burns on April 17 near the McDonald Observatory. CREDIT: Frank Cianciolo/McDonald Observatory. Image from TheAtlantic.com

As I write this, death tolls and damage estimates are still being calculated from the weekend tornados and firefighters in West Texas are still waging combat against some 8000 wildfires that have charred an unbelievable 1.6 - million acres… a chunk of real estate twice as big as Rhode Island.  Officials say some of the infernos are traveling 100 yards per minute. Yes, you read that right. And there’s plenty of fuel left to burn thanks to a prolonged drought in the region. Add those fierce West Texas gales and it’s a recipe for disaster. 

Shot near Strawn, TX, Monday, April 18, 2011. Credit: (Fort Worth Star-Telegram/Max Faulkner)

One rancher in the northwest part of the state said the wind was so strong over the weekend it blew pasture gates right off their hinges. The loss of land, possessions and livestock is truly staggering and statistics don’t even begin to tell this story. See the video here.

A charred motorcycle and car sit near the burned home of Linda and Bobby Lanter. Credit: (Star-Telegram/Ron T. Ennis)

The Texas Cattle Raisers Association is taking donations that will be used to buy feed and fencing supplies for the ranchers hardest hit. To help out, go to TexasAgriculture.gov. Or call 512-475-1615.

Cody Tillery, 17, carries donated water inside the Red Cross shelter  Graford, Texas Tuesday April 19, 2011. Credit: (Star-Telegram/Ron Jenkins)

We’ve been poking some good-natured fun at West Texas lately but this is no laughing matter and our prayers are for courage steadfastness as the Lone Star State faces down yet another daunting challenge.