I left off last week explaining that as a child I was unusually small. When I was 12 years old I only weighed 55 pounds and was 3'11". Because of this, most people thought that I was unable to do a lot of things. I never saw myself as small, but advantaged. I believed that since I was so small, I could move faster and quicker, and hide easier than anyone else. Also, I felt that I had a higher energy level since I had less weight to haul around, and this gave me the ability to last longer in activities, than most of the other kids.
Everyone in town knew who I was. Or so it seemed to me. In our sprawling metropolitan area of 13,000 people, I was always being hailed by strangers that knew my name. I thought I must be a celebrity. Actually, everyone just knew I was that really short kid. Oh well.
Sheridan, Wyoming, where I grew up, was a very interesting town. It is one of the last genuine preserved Old West towns in America. Main street is lined with stores that were built during the Old West, with the false fronts that make them look taller then they really are.
Sheridan still has cowboys and Indians, but no fighting. When I was a kid I usually wore a big western belt buckle, and cowboy boots. People visiting from the big cities out east would ask me if we still fought with Indians, (and they were serious). I always thought this was amusing and ridiculous to think that people could actually believe that.
We are right next to the Crow reservation in southern Montana, and since we were the town of choice, we had many Crow Indian friends that would visit us regularly.
Sheridan is the site of Buffalo Bill Cody's former home. It is now a very popular Inn since it has 200 rooms and 3 ball rooms. When I had my cleaning company in Sheridan, this was one of the buildings that I would clean. They house a lot of western art, including sculptures of cowboys on bucking broncos, and paintings of western landscape.
Sheridan sets in a valley, at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. No matter where you are in Sheridan, you see mountains. We also have plainlands. When you take a drive, you see herds of antelope bouncing along, a few deer running for cover, wolverines, rabbits, pheasant, quail, duck, and geese. If you take a four wheel drive onto rocky dirt roads in the mountains, you will find moose, bear, and elk.
And of course, thousands of cows. Cattle that is. Some of the cattle ranches have more than 10,000 acres. You have to be careful in most areas driving because a lot of places have no fences and the cows wander onto the road and stare at you.
Sheridan is such a remnant from the old west, that when Queen Elizabeth came over to America in 1984, she visited Sheridan. That was pretty exciting!!
Everyone crowded in main street downtown stretching their necks to see her. She even walked into King's Saddlery, the worlds largest maker and mail order house of lasso's. I had just left Sheridan 3 months earlier, so I missed her. I asked my Dad what he thought about that, and he said, "Oh, she looks like anyone else." It's pretty tough to impress my Dad.
Kenny Rogers has filmed a movie or two in Sheridan. We have a clock downtown that has not worked all my life. Kenny wanted it to work for the movie, so he paid to have it fixed. The old man that owned it thought that was a great deal!
Quite a few people have filmed movies in Sheridan when they wanted the Old West look.
Robert Urich even filmed a movie one time in Sheridan. I believe it was in 1977 or 1978. My little brother, Sam, was working at Boyd's grocery, (which is now Deckers), and he carried out Robert Urich's packages. Mr. Urich tipped Sam $1.00. Sam still has that dollar.
Our dude ranches are pretty popular with celebrities. Don Knotts used to visit them quite a bit, and Andy Griffith did once.
When I was 17, I was having a show of my pottery downtown, and in walked Cary Grant! I did not know who he was until after he left and the ladies started gasping. I wonder if he bought one of my pieces?
Many rich people retire in or around Sheridan. They like to buy a ranch, and then watch the cowboys run it. One person, who's name I will not mention out of respect to him, bought a ranch and retired in Sheridan. He used to be the chairman of the Philip Morris Company. Word had it he was worth millions and millions, but he and his wife were very down home and friendly. They always drove a beat up old wagoneer with two Dobermans in the back.
They bought their groceries at Boyd's where my Dad worked, because Dad always made them feel at home. I bagged their groceries quite often, and except for the t-bone steaks they would buy for their Dobermans, and the 4 oz jar of caviar for $80.00, no one really thought of them as different from the rest of us.
When I started my cleaning business, these folks were one of my customers, and I would go to their house to clean their carpets and upholstery. It is so strange to see a $100,000 oriental carpet laying on the floor of a $75,000 house.
Sheridan was a nice place for a kid. We could walk anywhere as children without worry, since the town was just about crime free.
In downtown Sheridan, on Main Street, was an old barber shop. The owner was a Barber named Robert Morris who is still there today. He was a colorful person, that always spoke just above a whisper. He took a liking to me, and when I was 14, he offered me the shoe shine stand in the shop at no charge. That was a lot of fun. I worked after school and all day Saturday.
I learned something about business, sales, and people skills the two years I shined shoes.
Another important thing that I learned from shining shoes was that you can't always let people's opinion of you control what you choose to do. I quickly realized that being a shoe shine boy was a joke to most people, at least to most kids my age. It bothered me at first, and I tried to get another after school job. I applied at Buffalo Bill's Inn, but
they said I was too small to bus tables. Same story everywhere else. So I kept on shining shoes.
The only recourse I had to my peer's chiding, was the fact that I made a lot more at shining shoes than they did at bussing tables, or other jobs available to youth. At the time, most paid the minimum wage of $2.05 per hour. I earned 50 cents to 75 cents to shine a pair of shoes. On a good Saturday, I could earn $20.00 or more for 6 hours of work.
I also enjoyed the look on people's faces when they would look down from their newspaper at the boots they said would never shine, to see their surprise shining back at them. And, I had plenty of time between customers to read or draw.
I learned that it is better to do what you like, and put up with some taunting from peers. This has stuck with me all my life.
Sheridan was rich with experiences for me as a child. I think a small town is a great place for a child to grow up. But even a small town has surprises. A friend, of mine, who was retirement age and a commercial artist, wanted to make sure that he left his mark on Sheridan Wyoming. I found him to be very interesting.
His name was Steward Johnson, or Stew. Stew used to draw and layout most of the commercial ads for the Sheridan Newspaper. (By the way, you can subscribe to the Sheridan Newspaper if you would like a look at this historic town. You will have to call them in Sheridan, Wyo. Area code 307, information has the number). Every week he put together the full page ad for Boyd's grocery store where my father worked.
In 7th grade, my father took me to Stew's studio to meet him. We had to interview someone for work study at school on a career we would like to have.
I wanted more than anything to be an artist, and the only way my career counselor could figure I could make a living at it was with commercial art.
That was one of the most memorable visits of my life. I thought there could be no better life, than to be in an art studio all day, and get paid for it. Stew, it seemed to me had the best job in the world.
He showed me how he did layout, and how he would start with an idea, and finish it into an advertisement. I looked at his art tools and furniture. I could smell the strong cigar Stew always kept burning, and the dank leftover smells from many years of solitary work in the closed in dark studio.
Stew became one of my very good friends. Later he retired and refused to ever talk about business again. He had a very strict rule. He would not talk to anyone unless it was about religion, philosophy, or improvement of the human race. He made no bones about it.
He was so adamant about this personal rule, that he would storm out of a restaurant if the conversation was not to his liking. (This even happened to me when I brought up a very small business question).
Stew always had ideas he tried to push on the town. Tired of waiting at the railroad crossing, he drew up plans for a road to go over the crossing. The idea would have taken a budget many times above what Sheridan had available, yet Stew insisted this needed to be done. He even convinced the Sheridan Press to publish his drawing on the front page. Nothing ever came of it however.
Change really bothered Stew. Remember the Mission Barber Shop I said I had shined shoes at as a kid? Next door was a bar called the Mission Bar. It was kind of a rowdy place. The barber shop and the bar shared a common dividing wall. Many times while I was cleaning up at night, I could hear people being thrown against the wall and glass breaking.
Anyhow, this was Stew's favorite watering hole. The bar had not changed since the wild west days. About 1979 a new owner purchased the Mission Bar, remodeled it, and renamed it the Oasis.
Stew was furious. He thought this was a sacrilege! Even though he never protested the destruction of other old historic buildings in the past, this hit near his heart. His place to meet friends and have a drink had changed.
He went on a creative campaign to have the Oasis changed back to it's original state. He incited debates in the newspapers, flooding the editor with letters, he drew sharp satirical pictures and posted them all over the front of the Oasis at night, he stood outside the door and told patrons not to enter.
Stew campaigned this way for quite a while. One day I had dropped by his studio to say hi. He handed me his drawing tools and told me to take good care of them. I was shocked. "Aren't you going to need these" I asked. No," Stew said decidedly, "from now on I am only interested in religion and cosmic force" This would seem like a strange statement and action for most people, but for Stew I figured it was par for the course.
Well, Stew wanted to make a protest about his Mission Bar that everyone would remember. He wanted everyone to know just how upset he really was.
So at high noon, Stew walked to the Oasis, (Mission Bar), read a poem, screamed about the desecration that Sheridan had allowed, held a gun to his head and in front of everyone took his life.
He got what he wanted, people still remember. But it is still the Oasis. I miss Stew. He was a once in a lifetime type of guy.
You can read all the chapters of "Tims Home Town Stories" by going to http://timshometownstories.com. Other stories written by Tim are at http://salessuccessmagazine.com These stories are copyrighted by Timothy L. Drobnick Sr. 1995,1996,1997,1998,1999,2000. Any person using this article must publish it without modification and include authors bio and links.
About the Author
Timothy L Drobnick Sr has helped many people make money on the internet. Websites to visit for income opportunity are yobisc.com, http://virusfreespamfree.com, and http://myshoppingplace.net.
Written by: Timothy L Drobnick Sr.
