September 21, 2008
Showdown
In the late 1940’s and perhaps well beyond, Henry F. Harding was probably one of the wealthier of the local citizenry of Faith, if not the wealthiest. He owned the West River Telephone & Electric Company, was a member of the City Council of Faith, and was involved in local banking. I don’t know the full story, but my uncle, Neal Crowley, who was then the Chief of Police of Faith, somehow ran afoul of Harding in 1949 over an unpaid phone bill of $14. Just to give the unpaid bill some perspective, this amount would have been about $125 in today’s dollars. We don’t know the reasons for the unpaid phone bill. Neal may have felt that Harding owed him for something, and not paying the phone bill was Neal’s way of getting even. Or, maybe Neal simply was falling behind on his obligations for other reasons. Whatever the problem, Harding had Neal’s phone disconnected.
Now disconnecting the phone of the Chief of Police even in a small town is a big deal. Neal could not provide – in today’s parlance – 24/7 police coverage without access to a telephone at his house. Certainly, he had one in the office. But in those days, a small rural town would not have had police radios. Having the phone in Neal’s home was a vital link between the community and its lawman.
Curiously, despite the fact that Henry Harding was on the Faith City Council, he didn’t see the value of having that phone in Neal’s home remain connected. One suspects that there must have been a mighty test of wills at play, or perhaps one gigantic grudge match, for Harding rejected the City Council’s own demands that he reconnect the phone. The Council passed a resolution in January 1950, which Harding ignored. The town took Harding to court. Despite obtaining a favorable ruling, Harding also ignored that.
There may have been a very personal dispute going on or some kind of personality issue. Faith was a small town. Neal and Harding would have had to have known each other quite well. Perhaps they had had run ins with each other before and this dispute proved more than each man and the friends and supporters each had could countenance. Neal was, after all, a fairly popular man in Faith. While there were those, no doubt, who did not like Neal, Harding also probably rubbed some people the wrong way with his money.
In any case, Harding was a businessman and he must have justified himself as simply trying to protect his own business interests. Neal did owe him the money, and apparently did pay the delinquent bill after the mayor intervened. But, Harding was not satisfied. He was not going to be bullied by the City of Faith over how to run his telephone company. If the town was going to demand that Harding reinstall Neal’s telephone service, then Harding wanted the town to promise to make good on any future liabilities. He asked for a $30 deposit to reconnect the phone, which would have been about $250 in today’s dollars.
If you’ve ever had a falling out with a modern phone company, then you know that Henry Harding was either very prescient about the direction of the consumer telecommunications business, or he was simply just being a smart businessman. If you let the phone company disconnect your service today for nonpayment, then you know you are going to face a hefty deposit for getting your service back. Well, both Neal Crowley and the town refused to pay a deposit and were intent on getting that phone reconnected.
One suspects that the cost of lawyers and going to court – even in those days – was substantial. It is likely that this case quickly escalated into tremendously bruised feelings and hardened positions on both sides. Each side – Harding and the City of Faith – put their hired lawyers to the test. For the time and the place, this may have been akin to the showdown at the O.K. Corral—just not as violent.
The town argued in the Meade County Circuit Court that, “Without such telephone connection law and order is jeopardized and the safety of the people of Faith imperiled. The telephone has been out for more than three months.” After consultation with the South Dakota Public Utilities Commission, the court found that the City Council resolution requiring reconnection of service was a lawful order, and Harding was ordered again to reconnect Neal’s phone.
We don’t know how quickly Neal had his telephone service restored, but it was restored. Neal continued to be the Chief of Police of Faith for many years afterward. Henry Harding’s business interests continued to expand. In 1958, he purchased the Farmers State Bank in nearby Dupree. Neal and Harding must have run into each other from time to time after that, although we don’t know what might have been said between the two men. Most likely, each man made a grudging peace with the other if for no other reason than the intention to continue living in Faith. I would not have liked to have been standing nearby, though, if either man ever encountered the other in the local bar.
--Mike Crowley
Now disconnecting the phone of the Chief of Police even in a small town is a big deal. Neal could not provide – in today’s parlance – 24/7 police coverage without access to a telephone at his house. Certainly, he had one in the office. But in those days, a small rural town would not have had police radios. Having the phone in Neal’s home was a vital link between the community and its lawman.
Curiously, despite the fact that Henry Harding was on the Faith City Council, he didn’t see the value of having that phone in Neal’s home remain connected. One suspects that there must have been a mighty test of wills at play, or perhaps one gigantic grudge match, for Harding rejected the City Council’s own demands that he reconnect the phone. The Council passed a resolution in January 1950, which Harding ignored. The town took Harding to court. Despite obtaining a favorable ruling, Harding also ignored that.
There may have been a very personal dispute going on or some kind of personality issue. Faith was a small town. Neal and Harding would have had to have known each other quite well. Perhaps they had had run ins with each other before and this dispute proved more than each man and the friends and supporters each had could countenance. Neal was, after all, a fairly popular man in Faith. While there were those, no doubt, who did not like Neal, Harding also probably rubbed some people the wrong way with his money.
In any case, Harding was a businessman and he must have justified himself as simply trying to protect his own business interests. Neal did owe him the money, and apparently did pay the delinquent bill after the mayor intervened. But, Harding was not satisfied. He was not going to be bullied by the City of Faith over how to run his telephone company. If the town was going to demand that Harding reinstall Neal’s telephone service, then Harding wanted the town to promise to make good on any future liabilities. He asked for a $30 deposit to reconnect the phone, which would have been about $250 in today’s dollars.
If you’ve ever had a falling out with a modern phone company, then you know that Henry Harding was either very prescient about the direction of the consumer telecommunications business, or he was simply just being a smart businessman. If you let the phone company disconnect your service today for nonpayment, then you know you are going to face a hefty deposit for getting your service back. Well, both Neal Crowley and the town refused to pay a deposit and were intent on getting that phone reconnected.
One suspects that the cost of lawyers and going to court – even in those days – was substantial. It is likely that this case quickly escalated into tremendously bruised feelings and hardened positions on both sides. Each side – Harding and the City of Faith – put their hired lawyers to the test. For the time and the place, this may have been akin to the showdown at the O.K. Corral—just not as violent.
The town argued in the Meade County Circuit Court that, “Without such telephone connection law and order is jeopardized and the safety of the people of Faith imperiled. The telephone has been out for more than three months.” After consultation with the South Dakota Public Utilities Commission, the court found that the City Council resolution requiring reconnection of service was a lawful order, and Harding was ordered again to reconnect Neal’s phone.
We don’t know how quickly Neal had his telephone service restored, but it was restored. Neal continued to be the Chief of Police of Faith for many years afterward. Henry Harding’s business interests continued to expand. In 1958, he purchased the Farmers State Bank in nearby Dupree. Neal and Harding must have run into each other from time to time after that, although we don’t know what might have been said between the two men. Most likely, each man made a grudging peace with the other if for no other reason than the intention to continue living in Faith. I would not have liked to have been standing nearby, though, if either man ever encountered the other in the local bar.
--Mike Crowley
September 18, 2008
Babe Mansbridge
Babe was the local cattle buyer around Thunder Butte when I was growing up. Babe was slightly built, English and scholarly looking, about 5'10”, 165 pounds, brown hair, gray eyes, and tough as rawhide.
I don't know where Babe came from or where he went - he is deceased now - but when he rode bucking horses around Thunder Butte country, he was as well known and respected as Santa Claus.
According to everything I have read, Babe was the first man to ever ride Tipperary . "Ride him" means he was the first man to ever stay on Tipperary until the end of a timed ride while obeying the rules of Saddle Bronc riding and not being thrown off the horse. Tipperary is a legend onto his own. Books have been written and records kept on this famous horse, "that couldn't be rode".
Just to fluff out the incident of Babe being the first, or only man, to ever ride Tipperary: Yakima Canutt, Cowboy star, movie actor, and director of Rebel without a Cause was alleged to have ridden Tipperary in his Thunder Butte days. However, it was also alleged that Tipperary at the time was either old and near death or sick from the constant attempts by young cowboys to ride him.
But, back to Babe Mansbridge; Babe was a cattle buyer and he first came to my attention, as a kid, because my brother Joe worked for him. Babe traveled around Thunder Butte country either on his saddle horse or in his 1937 Plymouth auto. He and my brother Joe would travel from ranch to ranch, mark the cattle they wanted to buy, arrange with local cowboys to cut out the marked cattle, drive them to a central gathering place, then ship the cattle off to the best market - usually Sioux City, Iowa or Chicago, Illinois.
Babe was a popular cattle buyer, he always paid a fair price, knew his cattle and handled the deal expeditiously. When one considers the mechanics of cattle buying, it becomes evident the buyer was a very intelligent man. He had to know the age of a cow, the weight and condition, and all of this he had to determine while riding past or through a herd of milling cattle. It was necessary to know these things because he sold the shipment by age and weight.
Babe had two children, to my knowledge - June who was nearly my age and Freddie who was several years younger. They were both friends of mine in high school. The last time I talked to June she lived in Spearfish, South Dakota, and Freddie lived somewhere on the East Coast.
Since my brother Joe worked for and with Babe for a long time, I guess Babe assumed that I knew cattle, so one night he had a big shipment to go out of Lemmon, on a cattle train for Chicago, and Babe gave me a nice wage to oversee the loading of the cattle train. Well, he also hired a couple of goofy guys to do the actual loading, a specialty in itself.
The long and short of this story is the two goofy guys were not taking orders from a high school kid and they proceeded to load their own way. When the train pulled out about 4:00 a.m., one poor bedraggled yearling steer was left over. There was no way for me to get him on to a moving train, so I had to go back and tell Babe the news. It did not set well with him. After all, that steer was a total loss and it probably ruined his profit on a couple of car loads of steers.
Babe Mansbridge was one of those unforgettable people who moved in and out of my life for years on and around Thunder Butte Mountain. And by the way, Babe Mansbridge eventually went on to win the World's Champion Saddle Bronc Bucking Contest of British Columbia in the mid 1930`s.
--John Crowley
I don't know where Babe came from or where he went - he is deceased now - but when he rode bucking horses around Thunder Butte country, he was as well known and respected as Santa Claus.
According to everything I have read, Babe was the first man to ever ride Tipperary . "Ride him" means he was the first man to ever stay on Tipperary until the end of a timed ride while obeying the rules of Saddle Bronc riding and not being thrown off the horse. Tipperary is a legend onto his own. Books have been written and records kept on this famous horse, "that couldn't be rode".
Just to fluff out the incident of Babe being the first, or only man, to ever ride Tipperary: Yakima Canutt, Cowboy star, movie actor, and director of Rebel without a Cause was alleged to have ridden Tipperary in his Thunder Butte days. However, it was also alleged that Tipperary at the time was either old and near death or sick from the constant attempts by young cowboys to ride him.
But, back to Babe Mansbridge; Babe was a cattle buyer and he first came to my attention, as a kid, because my brother Joe worked for him. Babe traveled around Thunder Butte country either on his saddle horse or in his 1937 Plymouth auto. He and my brother Joe would travel from ranch to ranch, mark the cattle they wanted to buy, arrange with local cowboys to cut out the marked cattle, drive them to a central gathering place, then ship the cattle off to the best market - usually Sioux City, Iowa or Chicago, Illinois.
Babe was a popular cattle buyer, he always paid a fair price, knew his cattle and handled the deal expeditiously. When one considers the mechanics of cattle buying, it becomes evident the buyer was a very intelligent man. He had to know the age of a cow, the weight and condition, and all of this he had to determine while riding past or through a herd of milling cattle. It was necessary to know these things because he sold the shipment by age and weight.
Babe had two children, to my knowledge - June who was nearly my age and Freddie who was several years younger. They were both friends of mine in high school. The last time I talked to June she lived in Spearfish, South Dakota, and Freddie lived somewhere on the East Coast.
Since my brother Joe worked for and with Babe for a long time, I guess Babe assumed that I knew cattle, so one night he had a big shipment to go out of Lemmon, on a cattle train for Chicago, and Babe gave me a nice wage to oversee the loading of the cattle train. Well, he also hired a couple of goofy guys to do the actual loading, a specialty in itself.
The long and short of this story is the two goofy guys were not taking orders from a high school kid and they proceeded to load their own way. When the train pulled out about 4:00 a.m., one poor bedraggled yearling steer was left over. There was no way for me to get him on to a moving train, so I had to go back and tell Babe the news. It did not set well with him. After all, that steer was a total loss and it probably ruined his profit on a couple of car loads of steers.
Babe Mansbridge was one of those unforgettable people who moved in and out of my life for years on and around Thunder Butte Mountain. And by the way, Babe Mansbridge eventually went on to win the World's Champion Saddle Bronc Bucking Contest of British Columbia in the mid 1930`s.
--John Crowley