Thunder Butte

Earl Engebretson, Late in Life


When you gaze across the prairie in northwestern South Dakota, the land appears so empty that it comes as a surprise to find out that many amazing people have lived there. Earl Engebretson was surely one of them. According to my father:

“Earl was a hot accordion player. I remember playing for dances with him and Clarence Doan at the Victor Benson dance hall, when I was in high school [in the 1930's]. That isn't exactly what Earl was noted for, however. Out on his ranch near Chance, Earl built and stocked the most elaborate museum of natural history that I have ever seen. He had things as varied as a two headed Cobra, a two headed calf, and a bewildering assortment of animals and things which filled many, many buildings. I even bought a flat iron from Earl that one of his relatives had brought from Norway. I understand the entire museum was moved to Bison following Earl's death.”

Earl was born in 1914 and, except for service in the military during World Ward II, lived in South Dakota all his life. There is a great photo of Earl with his accordion in the book, The Veals of Chance, South Dakota, edited by Verla Lang. There also is a photo of the younger Earl attired in bow tie and a school boy's cap standing behind a table, proudly displaying some of his taxidermy specimens. Despite his skill, accordion playing wasn't what Earl was best known for. Earl was a skilled naturalist, taxidermist, and ran a museum that was a wonder for all who beheld it on his ranch outside of Chance for years.

Earl got started with taxidermy at an early age, taking a correspondence course in 1927 when he was just twelve. His taxidermy collection grew extensive enough that he opened a museum on his ranch in 1954. Most of Earl's specimens came from the area where he lived, although my father remembers seeing quite a few that were from much farther afield on his visits to the Engebretson place. Although Earl was something of a home-grown naturalist, he also attended college in Spearfish, where he received a teaching certificate. In fact, Earl taught school in the area until 1968.

Earl donated his taxidermy collection to the town of Bison in 1995, a year before his death. The collection lives on displayed at Earl's Museum in Bison, a special place that I intend to devote some time to in my next post.

--Mike Crowley

Editor's Note—One of the sources I drew heavily on for this post was a story titled, “Earl's Museum,” by Jim Nelson. Jim's story appears in Lang, Verla (editor), The Veals of Chance, South Dakota, 2008.

Joseph Crowley on Horse with Crowley Ranch House at Rear, Probably 1926

Some weeks ago on a visit to California, I pulled my grandmother's old photo album out of a closet and uncovered a trove of old photos -- including a few of photos of the house my Dad grew up in on a leased spread several miles south or southwest of Thunder Butte on Thunder Butte Creek. The ranch was called the 7A- (or "Seven A Bar"), and was leased from R.L. Foster, Jr. Interestingly, I went looking for the place last July, but couldn't find any ranch roads or tracks that ran out that way. And, with three foot high hay and grass covering the country -- Gene Ulrich who is in his 90's said that it was the tallest he had ever seen it -- I wasn't wandering far from the visible ranch roads. Still, these photos bring to life a little bit what the country looked like and what the conditions were like where my Dad grew up.

The photo above has 1936 printed on the back, but more likely is from 1926. It shows my Uncle Joe, who would have been about 16 at the time, on top of a horse in front of the Crowley ranch house. The original photo is only 2 inches by 3 and the left hand side is entirely washed out. I attempted to bring out some more of the detail with PhotoShop, but you can see that when there isn't much to work with, this is about as good as the results get. The next photo, below, also is probably from the same period and shows a horse tied up in front of the house. The photographer's shadow is in the foreground. One interesting thing is that the photo shows packed earth built up around the base of the house. The purpose would have been to help keep the place warmer in the winter. Again, there isn't much detail to work with here, but if you click on the image to enlarge it, you can barely make out a cat, a child's wagon, and a dog directly in front of the house.


Crowley Ranch House, Probably in 1926

The next three photos are all dated from 1926. The first shows two horses tied up in front of the house. The next shows my grandmother (Mayme Crowley) and a tall cowboy, Glenn Tate, with a horse in front of the house. Glenn used to stay at the Crowley's place. A younger fellow, perhaps my Uncle Neal or Joe, is at the left in the background. The last photo shows what looks like my Aunt Cece chopping wood in front of an outhouse. Cece would have been only eleven in 1926, and it looks like another kid is sitting in the foreground facing away from the camera -- this is probably my Dad, who would have been five.


Crowley Ranch House with Horse Tied Up Out Front, 1926


Mayme Crowley and Glenn Tate with Horse at Crowley House, 1926


Possibly Cecelia Crowley Chopping Wood in Front of Outhouse, 1926

--Mike Crowley

A year ago, I posted some of my Dad's recollections of Babe Mansbridge here. Babe, who's real name was Ralph, was a champion bronc rider from what I call the Thunder Butte area. My Dad knew Babe, who among other things was famous for riding the local legend, Tipperary, who was one of the most famous bucking broncs of the early 1900's.

On a recent visit to California, I found the above print in my Dad's basement. The print is framed and inscribed (barely legibly in the upper right hand corner) by Babe with a note to my Uncle Joe (now deceased), which reads:

"To my friend Joe
a real cowboy
and
a real friend
Your Pal
Babe M."

I'm not sure whether the print represents a colorized photo, a painting, or some other form of caricature, but brush strokes seem evident on the horse's underbelly. But, this print does give us a sense of Babe in his heyday and perhaps gives us an idea of what Babe may have looked like while riding a bucking bronc in competition.

The print shows Babe riding the bucking horse, Sure Fire, in finals at the Black Hills Roundup in Belle Fourche, South Dakota, in 1924.

In the lower left of the print, the printed inscription reads:

"Black Hills Roundup
Babe Mansbridge
Champion Bronc Rider, British Columbia
Riding "Sure Fire" finals at
Belle Fourche - 1924"

I believe that Babe Mansbridge died in January 1968 a couple of months short of his 66th birthday, but here is some additional information about Babe that I found in a newspaper clipping in my grandmother's photo album:

"Babe Mansbridge Dies At Spearfish

Funeral services for Ralph "Babe" Mansbridge will be held at 1:00 p.m. today, (Wednesday) at the Masonic Temple in Spearfish, with Rev. Arthur W. Westwood of the United Church of Christ officiating. Burial will be in the Rosehill Cemetery under the direction of Fidler Funeral Chapel.

Mansbridge, a well known rancher, cattle buyer and rodeo rider, died in the Lookout Mountain Hospital, Spearfish, Jan. 21 following a siege of pneumonia and other complications. He was about 70.

Babe was a true westerner at heart although he was too young to take part in the activities of those days of "Cattle Barons and Roundups." As a little boy of 5 or 6 he learned to ride a horse and became the cowboy of the Mansbridge estate at the old Bismarck Trail crossing on Rabbit Creek where his father ran cattle in connection with his general store and postmaster duties. In 1923 he won the saddle bronc championship belt of British Columbia and according to Charles Wilson, of Buffalo, made the best ride on the famous bucking horse "Tipperary" at a Lemmon Fair. For several years he sponsored a matched saddle bronc ride at the Faith rodeo."

While the clipping isn't dated, if Babe passed away on January 21, 1968, the clipping probably ran in a local paper and funeral services were held on Wednesday, January 24th.

--Mike Crowley

Editor's Note--Apologies to any copyright holders for the above newspaper clipping. I have no information as to the newspaper or the clipping's provenance other than that it was in my grandmother's photo album.

On July 15, 2009, I was on a business trip to the area and attended a Tribal Council meeting at Eagle Butte on the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation. There was a visiting delegation of federal officials, and the Council wanted to have a session with the people from Washington, which turned into a long 2-1/2 hour procession of speeches by local tribal members about all of the various needs and complaints on the reservation. It appears to be traditional for tribal elders to be allowed to speak before the real business begins. But, so many community members were interested in speaking that this turned into the primary business of the meeting. A long litany of grudges with Washington were expressed, many of them perfectly understandable.

Anyone with a knowledge of the government's interaction with the Lakota over the years – especially in the early years when people were rounded up and placed on the reservation, and later when the reservation lands were chipped away to be sold off for white settlement – would understand that many historical wrongs were committed. One such wrong -- the Wounded Knee Massacre -- occurred in December 1890 when U.S. troops got a little too trigger happy during a roundup of tribal members and killed over 300 men, women, and children. The massacre still resonates strongly, and one of the things tribal members asked for on July 15th was a formal apology from Washington for the Wounded Knee Massacre.

People at the Tribal Council session also asked for federal help with some things that sounded strange to non-tribal ears. For example, one local woman, who left before I could talk with her personally, asked Washington for help dealing with Walking Sam. The woman, who was elderly but otherwise quite lucid, described Walking Sam as a big man in a tall hat who has appeared around the reservation and caused young people to commit suicides. She said that Walking Sam has been picked up on the police scanners, but that the police have not been able to protect the community from him. She described him as a bad spirit. She wanted help from Washington with foot patrols for the tribal communities to protect them from Walking Sam.

At the time, I was thinking that this may have been a reference to Bigfoot sightings. Yes, some people have claimed sightings of big hairy ape men in the Dakotas. Many of these sightings have taken place on the Standing Rock and Pine Ridge reservations. Or, perhaps it may just have been a plea for help with teen suicides – a plea that needs to be translated through a cultural filter. The woman was from Red Scaffold, which is a small community on the reservation.

The following evening found me perusing the bookshelves at Prairie's Edge, a large Native American arts, crafts, music, and bookstore in Rapid City. I looked through quite a number of books trying to find any reference that I could to Walking Sam. I found nothing. I did ask the clerk behind the counter if she knew of any appropriate books or had ever heard of Walking Sam. She appeared to be Native American. She wasn't familiar with Walking Sam, but advised me that there really are bad spirits out there on the reservation, and you need to be careful. She said that if you go looking for them, you might just find them.

Well, I didn't go looking for Walking Sam, but I did stay in a town that weekend that straddles the edge of the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation. I also ended up talking with the town's police chief and emergency services manager. (I won't name the town or the police chief because I haven't had a chance to ask whether he would mind being identified.) We got to talking about the local Native American beliefs and I mentioned the incident at the council meeting in Eagle Butte. He immediately was interested in knowing who had mentioned Walking Sam because he thought he probably knew the woman. He knows many of the locals in Red Scaffold and is familiar with the stories about the Walking Sam sightings and the connection to teen suicides. He often runs ambulances down to Red Scaffold and over time has gotten well acquainted with the locals.

Following the incident, I corresponded with Loren Coleman, a cryptozoologist who has written many books on the topic, and he thinks that it's a good bet that Walking Sam represents sightings of Bigfoot, more commonly spotted in the Northwestern U.S., but also often sighted elsewhere.

It's an interesting story, but shouldn't distract the reader from the fact that people on the reservations are distraught about teen suicides. Whether Walking Sam represents Bigfoot, an evil spirit, or is just a manifestation of the fear that people have about losing their loved ones to what seems an incomprehensible type of event, the teen suicides are real.

--Mike Crowley

Editor's Note--Another blogger here has a much more expansive take on the notion of cultural filters that is a valuable one. While we westerners to tend to see things in the black and white (e.g., a report of a strange creature is an animal, or it is not) and through our own cultural filters, we do lose sight of the fact that cultural filters are strong and may cause us to lose sight of an underlying message which could be something that we could easily relate to. For example, believe in "bad spirits" as a causative mechanism for untimely events among the Lakota is strong. Walking Sam may be just one such explanation that resonates among some of the Lakota for teen suicides. Alternatively, it is intriguing that Loren Coleman has pointed out that police thermal imaging scanners have picked up a heat signature from one possibly related sighting in the past here. Loren also posts some additional thoughts on the matter here.