THE DAILY COURIER
For all the news worth printing from Montana and Northern Wyoming
Green Ridge, WY
The Fall of a Small Town?
Harold Dowling
Green Ridge WY.
Barney Turner, long serving Sheriff of the growing town of Green Ridge, found himself arrested and transported to Arizona by two US Marshals, two days after Christmas.
The lawmen from the Marshal’s Office had arrived to investigate a claim that he was one Frank Jenkins, the last member of the ‘Bitter Creek Gang’ still at large. Indeed, little investigation had been required to confirm his real identity, as the money from the criminal outfit’s last known robbery was found hidden in a concealed safe in his office. The location of which had been included in the anonymous letter received revealing the true nature of the once respected Sheriff.
He has been saved from the hangman’s noose, despite the vicious and sometimes fatal nature of the gang’s robberies, but he will most likely end his days in jail.
This is not the only change the town has experienced lately. Carlton Sykes, once a respected businessman, has been sued for divorce by his wife, and is facing bankruptcy due to her father supporting the suit, and removing his apparently extensive financial assistance from Sykes.
A new preacher is also expected to arrive within the week, as the previous incumbent of the position, was chased out of town by an angry mob of men.
The townsfolk were very close mouthed and refused to enter into any dialogue regarding these strange happenings.
Having reluctantly accepted that I would get nothing worth relating in these pages, I was just about to depart, when on the steps of the hotel, I was waylaid by a young man, William Barlow, who was more than willing to talk. He had just returned from visiting his sister Clara for Christmas. I offered to keep his identity secret, but he showed no concerns and was even happy for his likeness to be published.
William Barlow
He excitedly related that his obviously adored sister, had been safely escorted out of town and given some money to help her find a new place to settle by the once notorious gunslinger and outlaw Kid Curry. The young man further explained that she had left been for dead by the railway tracks just a few weeks before her departure. He added that not long after, the ex-outlaw had left town, after he too had been beaten by several unknown persons.
He continued his tall tale with a vivid description of how Curry’s equally notorious partner, Hannibal Heyes had revealed well buried scandals at the Christmas Eve Mass, before being assisted to leave town unharmed, by his partner who had somehow reappeared in the nick of time.
On first hearing, it appeared to me that the boy had been reading too many dime novels. However, some further investigation revealed that land recently sold had indeed been owned briefly by Hannibal Heyes and Jedediah Curry. Intrigued, I investigated further and discovered, that ‘The Silver Eagle,’ one of the businesses that Mr. Sykes had owned, before his marital problems had forced him to sell, did in fact list both Heyes and Curry as ex-employees.
Whatever the truth behind the happenings of Green Ridge, it appears that even as free men, the once highly successful outlaw partnership of Heyes and Curry are still leaving their mark on the West.
Sketch: Courtesy of Governor's Office, Wyoming.
Hannibal Heyes (standing) and Kid Curry, just after receiving their amnesty.
On my return to the office, I did some digging into the possible whereabouts of Heyes and Curry and discovered that they may have settled in a small town in the heart of the Rockies in Montana.
But when I attempted to investigate this further, I was faced with a wall of distrustful silence from the town in question, and believe had I persisted, would most likely have found myself dumped unconscious on the outskirts of said town.
As I sat at the stagecoach depot waiting to depart, I did think I caught a glimpse of the men walking across the street to the Sheriff’s Office. But I was too far away to catch the names.
The men were greeted with familiar warmth by the sheriff and his companion, the resident judge.
Then some little time later, through the stagecoach window, I spied the same two men, still with the sheriff on the restaurant porch with a fourth companion, who I recognized as the owner of many businesses in town, including the bank. All four men were laughing and apparently enjoying each other’s company.
So, in hindsight, I must conclude I was mistaken in my judgement of who the men were.
I have chosen not to publish the name of the town, as my experience there, has made it clear that the townsfolk wish to be left in peace.