I mentioned in an earlier post that I’ve read a couple of books regarding Brown’s Park (Hole). An area that straddles Wyoming, Colorado, and Utah. My interest is piqued because I have ancestors that lived in that area in the early 20th century. I didn’t find much family history in my reading but I did read the sad story of Willie Strang. He was 14 or 15 when killed by Johnson (or Johnston). It’s a sad story that caught my attention. I attempted to write about it in next week’s poem but didn’t like it so this week is take 2. After I finished this poem I think I prefer the first one better. It is now up to you, dear reader, to decide which poem is better.
There is a place called Brown’s Park that encompasses northwestern Colorado, southern Wyoming, and northeastern Utah. The history of it is replete with Native Americans, early 20th century outlaws (Butch Cassidy), cattle rustlers, cattle barons, homesteaders, and miners. Mixed in all that history happens to be some of my family history. My mom’s ancestors once lived in in Brown’s Park (nee Hole). Her grandma once danced with Butch Cassidy. Continue reading
Sometimes you just have to believe that maybe you are being guided on a certain path for an unknown reason. Maybe the only reason is to bring a smile to your lips and warm your heart. But sometimes you just have to think maybe, just maybe, this series of events is more than a coincidence. Sometimes it’s bigger than you. Sometimes. Here is one of those times for me. Continue reading
The Scot named John Jarvie
was known by every soul
who lived within the boundary
of a place called Brown’s Hole. Continue reading