OVERHEARD
By Dazzlin' Dallas Morley
from 'Cowboy Up', May, 1998
OVERHEARD: A conversation as to
why our dear old "Red Dog Saloon" has
never been opened up again. The one
excuse was it would be too costly to bring
it up to all the utility "CODES". Then it
was explained that it could not EVER
open because it is too close to the church
across the street. Now that is the most
ridiculous reason I have ever heard of! I
can understand that law being passed in
the big cities, where there is dope and
killings, and all kinds of crime in the bars,
but not here!
In 1964, our wonderful Red Dog
WAS the church!
All the week, and weekend activities
consisted of mock shoot outs, trials,
hangins', rodeos, and nightly singing and
dancing to my honky-tonk piano, the
"Deacon's" guitar and bass fiddle, and
just plain FUN. Sunday mornings were
an entirely different story.
A long about 9:30 am, you could hear and
see the "drifting Deacon" (Robert
Mansfield), dressed in a flat crowned,
wide brimmed hat and a long-tailed black
frock coat, riding up and down Mane
Street, astride "Matildy". (the donkey
belonging to the printer of the "Jackass
Mail"- our newspaper at that time) He
would be ringing a large cow bell and
calling everyone to come to church. The
bar was shut down and no drinks or ashtrays
on the tables during the service.
After the Saturday night festivities, and
me wearing my red satin gown and feathers
and playing honky-tonk music, I
donned a demure white squaw dress
trimmed in gold braid, and played old
standard hymns as background music for
the sermon. Regardless of hangovers or
whatever, EVERYONE in town would
show up, and we even had tourists come
up from Palm Springs and Los Angeles
too. Sometimes it was "standing room
only", just to say they had been to church
in a saloon. The Deacon preached a
lovely non-denominational service that
did inspire the gatherings.
A local family, the Doyle's from
Cleveland, had five little girls and one
little boy named Donny. They were regulars
every week. I remember one occasion;
the Deacon was carrying on quite a
conversation, when little eight year old
Donny crept up behind the Deacon and
tugged on his coat tails and said in a stage
whisper, "You forgot to say "The bar is
open!" That prompted quite a few smiles.
The bar was opened and we resumed
business as usual.
These services were held every
Sunday until the big fire of 1964. Some
old man had been going around town
raving that he didn't approve of any
establishments serving "booze" on religious
holidays, sooo, the Red Dog burned
down on "Good Friday" and the beautiful
"Golden Stallion" turned to smoldering
ashes early on ' Easter morning.' The
paper said, quote "Both fires have been
attributed to accidental happenings, by
the authorities." I will always believe that
they were torched by arsonists!
That put an end to our church services,
but there is no reason I can think of
that they couldn't be revived and enjoyed
with NO LAWS saying they are too close
to the little church across the street!
Photo Contributed by Linda Conner
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Photos Contributed by Sasha McLeod
HITCHING RAILS
by Dazzlin' Dallas Morley
from 'Cowboy Up', June 1998
Way back a while, in Pioneertown
'ere horse and cowboy were obsolete-
Hitching rails adorned the fronts
Of every building on our "Mane Street".
Hitching rails were made of wood-
Posts or crossbars all gave service.
When cowboys staged their "shoot-outs",
They held the horses if they got nervous.
There was no charge for parking then-
The cowboys "drinking" in the bars,
No worries about "parking tickets",
No worries, then, about motor cars!
The day of the horse is returning here-
A lot of folks have two or three.
The hitching rails must appear again,
When all the tourists come back to see
The horses standing patiently-
At hitching rails along the street.
They take us back in memory-
To happier days, that can't be beat!
We loved our town the way it was.
Fires took both ends in sixty-four.
Now "Time" and "Progress" aid the cause
Of ruining our wondrous "Lore"!
And now that horses have returned,
And hitching rails are back in style-
Please build them back, so folks can learn
How it used to beĆ·way back a while!

Bob Abrams Photography
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