by Heather Hamilton
When Clayton Dixon’s granddad came to
America from England looking to make a living in American agriculture,
he started a family tradition of ranching in one of the country’s most
remote areas that is still going strong four and five generations later.
“My granddads name was Snowden, and he
was only 5’3” so they called him Little Snow. He and his two brothers
came from England on a ship and ended up in Missouri first. The
immigration people told them that if they wanted to be in agriculture
they should be in Missouri. Well, they tried it and realized that wasn’t
what they wanted, so they migrated to Wyoming and my granddad ended up
over in the Black Hills of western South Dakota while his brothers
settled in Northeast Wyoming,” explained Clayton of the early travels
that lead his family west.
After meeting his wife, Little Snow
moved back to Wyoming and homesteaded near Newcastle, running what
Clayton described as a small ranch by today’s standards.
“He raised three boys on it, including
my dad Robert, or Bob, who got his start in ranching working for Dick
Pfister on the Cheyenne River. My mom Helen came along and they got
married when they were both about 20 and continued working at various
ranches around the country before finally homesteading over on Snyder
Creek in northern Niobrara County in the late 1920s,” noted Clayton.
His parents ran both Hereford cattle and
Rambouillet sheep in the early days of the operation, sometimes taking a
week to trail to the Lusk sale barn to sell calves each fall.
“In 1934 there were so many grasshoppers
in this country, and no rain, that five different ranchers from around
the Cheyenne River, my folks included, all got together with their sheep
and cows and trailed them on foot and horseback from here to south of
Torrington at Yoder. They got down there in the beet fields and that’s
where they wintered and where I was born. The doctor told my dad it
would be $35 if he paid now, and more if he had to wait, so my dad would
always joke that I cost him $35,” recalled Clayton.
When his family headed back north,
Clayton’s mother drove the team pulling the sheep wagon, and pulled a
drawer out to lay Clayton in for the ride.
“I don’t know if when I got to fussing
if they shut the drawer or not, but that’s the way we came back,” added
Clayton with a chuckle.
During the depression, coyote pelts were the only available form of income, with a large one fetching up to $25.
“That’s kind of how they lived. They had
three or four big hound dogs, and they would take them and go horseback
and chase those coyotes all over the country hunting them. Selling the
furs is the way they survived,” explained Clayton.
But, while the grasshoppers and
depression were tough, the blizzard of ’49 was the worst thing the
family ever got into according to Clayton.
No comments:
Post a Comment