IN YOUR MIND 12-17-12

IN YOUR MIND

A Poem by Eagle Cruagh





IN YOUR MIND



Create the world

In your mind

You are maker of

Your destiny



As you think

So it becomes

I think

Therefore I am



Plan

Work your plan

Admire

Become



Plant

Harvest

Sow

Reap



Your world



---- Eagle Cruagh





© 2012 Eagle Cruagh

SNAKE PIT #2 12-14-2012

SNAKE PIT #2








You are probably confused as you



read Snake Pit. This is the point:







The purpose of government is to



protect the citizens.







I attempted to show that I am



partially experienced at dealing



with mental patients. Mental patients



are free to go about killing people ,



smoking pot, doing other drugs and



doing as they damn please.







The government`s answer to this is



"ban firearms". Legalize pot, make



it possible to pull the plug on "old"



people, give everyone a guaranteed



wage .







The governments answer to the probleem



is to not answer . All of the serious



problems , the problems of life and death



are the result of at least temporary



insanity. The use of drugs, supply of



money, total relaxation of laws.







Books have been written, movies filmed



showing what snake pits were and what



our country has become.







Early this morning the shooting at a



school was reported. The TV reporters



have been talking without stop and it



is now 2:00 PM...... What are they



talking about ? The horror. Our duty



to the children. The things that must



be done such as posting armed guards



in the schools, banning guns and



telling parents how to protect kids.







Does it seem more and more that



we live in the snake pit and the



patients are in charge ?



I have no intention of insulting or



putting down people with mental



problems. We need to help them and



at the same time protect them from



themselves if they have an affliction that



renders them dangerous to themselves



or others.



------ John Crowley

SNAKE PIT 12-14-2012

SNAKE PIT

preface:  This is a blog.  If this does not make sense
just wait.  It is a blog and I am writing a story that
begins long , long ago.

Long , long ago one of the individuals in a community
would be "acting peculiar", "funny" the people used
to say.  So, they called the Sheriff or the cops and
the policeman would examine the person and if he
decided the person was really "funny" he would take
the person to the "asylum" where he would be
retained, examined by psychiatrists, categorized and
observed.

Eventually our leaders discovered that many of their
constituents were being kept in asylums so they
opened the gates of the "snake pits" and turned the
patients loose .

Our Democracy thrived and flourished.   More and
more rules were enacted by congress, giving the
citizens more and more rights.  

Many of the citizens were under the care of psychiatrists
and psychologists, but they still retained their rights.
Evenutally the "inmates" prospered, exerted their
rights and some of them became the people in charge.

There was a terrible murder in a school in the East just
today.   The anti-gun faction is going crazy.
But,

Just today some crazed individual was reported to
have killed thirty three children in a school in China
----with a knife. 
Of course there is little said about that incident.  That
is in a different asylum.

You think I am kidding about the inmates being in
charge.  Right ?

Long, long ago when I was a Pharmacist Mate in the
Navy I worked in the "mental wards" of a large Navy
hospital. 

One day  I was in charge of the lunch room .  I was
assisted by a group of the more ambulatory patients.
Under me in rank was a mental patient (patient boss)
who dispensed the food  and eating utensils, knives
and forks, etc.

This boss, who was physically large, good looking and
had a lot of vitality  started throwing the patients
around, acting intensely disturbed.

I tried to calm this individual, but he became more
violent .   He attempted to strike me.  I susequently
got a head lock on him and choked him out.
Then I secured him in a locked "quiet room" and
informed Ms. Wamble, the head nurse who summoned
nurse Stephens and they rushed off to attend the
patient.

After attending my other duties , and patients, I passed
the locked , quiet room and looked in to see how the
violent patient was doing.   The two nurses (in charge)
were sitting on the floor.  One of them had the patient`s
head in her lap and the two were stroking his head.

If I had realized he was their,s I would have called them
to stop his violent rampage in the first place.

The next week I received orders shipping me over seas.
My leaders had spoken.

As I entered a mobile hospital  in New Caledonia the
first person I saw was a Lieutenant who had been my
former commander.   He was in patient clothing and
was hanging on to the fence in an  area for disturbed
mental patients.

Even back then I was becoming aware that disturbed
individuals were making the rules.

This is being continued.   Unless of course I am ordered
to stop it by one of --- the--- patients ?

-----John Crowley
       (aka--Eagle Cruagh)

THE TRUTH IS IN THERE SOMEWHERE 12-12-12

THE TRUTH IS IN THERE SOMEWHERE



Met her on the street , we talked

about old times.



I had to go --- "Here she said, take

my car". I did.



Driving off in to the hills, got hungry,

stopped at sandwich shop , paid and

started to leave.



Damn, I did`nt want to see old friends.

Just wanted to get out of there, things

to do. But, there was Ivan walking

toward me. We sat down again and had

the best conversation--- caught up on

old times, slapped each other on the

back and left--- "Stay in touch".



Out the corner of my eye, Ivan checking

out my (friends) car,

I have known that guy for years, he never

missed a detail in his life.



I`m think`n, "before Ole Ivan is a mile down

the road he will have checked the reg., on

that car." He knows Sally, he will wonder

why I am driving Sally`s car--- and Ole Ivan

will find out..... always does.



Then I remember. Ivan died in 1991.



Sure hope Sally got that car back because

I woke up and have not seen Sally for 20

years.



---- Eagle Cruagh

OLD LINE SHACK (12-12-12)

January 01, 2012


Old Line Shack





Dang. With Christmas time, visitors and other great things happening, I just plumb forgot the old line shack.



The last time I was down by the crick, where the old line shack is, there was a teen age girl chop`n firewood for the cook stove, an old dog with three legs lay`n by a horse that was tied to the front porch. Of course there was me, sitt`n my sorrel pacer and roll`n a smoke with the make`ns.



I was go`n inside, but I don`t know them folks and they sure don`t know me. I just looked around the yard where I used to play when just a wee kid. The old snapp`n turtle that almost got me when I thought it was a mountain lion. The old dog reminded me of the one we had, got caught in a trap one winter and he gnawed his leg off to get out. We pampered him for a while, but he didn`t need no help, he was just fine.



Look`n out across the yard reminded me of the Christmas tree that used to grow on the far cutbank. My Mother used to see it from her kitchen window `til one day, just before Christmas my brother came drag`n it home behind his horse and put it up in the front room.



That was in the old days, when the shack was home.



We used to hold the spring round up out there in the corrals. Cowboys used to rope and ride with their .44 by their side. Actually it was more than likely just a .22. The West had already been won and the gun was just used for shoot`n rattle snakes.



But, it was fun times. Big bon fire with some cowpuncher smoke`n up a bunch of Mountain Oysters. Some other Honyokker strum`n an old beat up guitar. Bawlin calves be`n stripped of their masculinity, herds of cattle be`n drove in and out to the tune of yell`n, git-hah!



Old Fred, the neighboring rancher who teased me unmercifully, sitt`n on a stump by the camp fire. He slapped his leg when he told a great joke, slapp`n the pocket full of stick matches he always carried. How I rolled on the ground in a fit of laughter when I saw him erupt in a mass of flames, runn`n for the crick to jump in and put out the fire.



You might say, "those were the days", but you would be wrong. Them ghosts of the days and nights, old memories kinda brand a place in the mind where it flares up now and then and them ghosts come march`n `cross the pasture by the old line shack.



--John Crowley

Mike Crowley Sunday, January 01, 2012
(0) comments


December 14, 2011

JUST AN OLD LINE SHACK 12-11-12

Just an Old Line Shack

FRESH MEAT 12-10-2012

FRESH MEAT



Yellow Dog lies in tall grass

Licking his wounds

Battling Tanka big run

Now some time they pass



Big fierce snorting beasts

Fought `til warriors done

Herd fills the valley

Fierce warrior make-um run



Yellow Snarling Dog hurl his spear

Gottum

Chasing Eagle hurl another

Gottum Yellow Dog`s meat



Now they friends day all done

Gonna split that hide

Holy feast tonight and bride

Can have whole Tanka tongue



---- Eagle Cruagh

ABOUT GO`N HOME 12-10-2012

ABOUT GO`N HOME



Reckon you never heard this before

I was jist thinkin as I worked a stick

You never really follered me

Can`t x-pect you to know what makes

me tick



I can hear you think`n , "who cares ?"

Can`t blame you not one bit

Today nobody even my own kids

Just plain don`t give a shit



What would I like just suppose

Sposen that an old guy can still like

That old ranch where I grew up

Pulls at me like there is still a piece

A`me there



Down on Thunder Butte Crick

Where the cat birds call

Where all the wild animals

In the night still prowl



Silly how an old coot still yearns for home

Like all the people gone and buried

And I had my fill of city life

Once you asked me what I think

I either have to say or take to drink



That`s all there is , don`t have no more

Jist a lonesome old hack get`n dewy eyed

Wonder`n what life`s got in store

`Cause I can`t stop think`n

I`m never ever go`n home



----- Eagle Cruagh

A FEW GOOD MEN 11-21-12

A good cop is born , not made---- or was that meant to
read the other way around ?


As a Police Sgt, I always liked to have men around me
who would take direction and act without hesitation.
One of those men was Tom Murphy.
Tom came to America from the Dublin, Ireland Garda.
The Garda in Ireland are the police.

Tom and I became good friends, but he was all cop
without any help from me, in fact I used to treat him
pretty rough, accused him of being verballiy dislexic.
He accused me of being other than Irish---- A terrible
insult.

Tom was injured one time.  "That" motorcycle gang were
tearing up a bar on Lincoln avenue when Tom being the
first one on the scene, as usual, one of their dogs bit him
in the butt.  Tom came out of that bar fuming, but with
three of the cyclists in custody, and the dog.

Once , at  bar closing time I had my hands full with some
drunks when Tom came on the scene.  He said "who do you
want taken out ,, John."  I pointed to a group of five across
the street and said , check `em out.
In a few minutes Tom asked me if I had any more handcuffs,
he had the five in custody.

We had a big Captain who was very ambitious and always
trying to do the right thing,  usually at a time when no one
wanted the right thing, for example....
One day when we were real short handed, myself and one
officer with his arm in a sling on the radio----Tom was the
only patrol officer on the street.  We got a call that the big
Captain had left his car and attempted to break up a fight
on the beach.   The crowd was unruly and had the Captain
down on the ground mauling and kicking him when Tom
arrived on the scene.

Taking his shot gun with him Tom waded through the crowd
using his shotgun as a club, he beat a path to the Captain,
got the Captain out of there and headed for the station.

While Tom was saving the Captain`s ass a large part of the
crowd came roaring in to the police station demanding to
file a report of police abuse (having been beaten with Tom`s
shotgun.
Several of the rowdy crowd started yelling that they were
going to take over the police station.

I always had a riot club leaning against the desk when I was
Desk Sgt.    I grabbed the "stick" and went over the counter,
nto the middle of the crowd swinging that stick like the mad
man I was.  I dropped several of them before they got away
from me and raced out of the station hitting the large plate
glass door, smashing it out as they raced to get away from my
stick.

Tom showed up a little later and turned his shotgun in to me.
It looked like a large pretzel, twisted and broken.
I patted Tom on the back and told him to check out a new gun.

I really thought I would have to pay for that exspensive plate
glass door on the front of the police station, but the next day
when I came to work it had been replaced with a new door.

Sure that I would be fired, or at least disciplined, I met the
Chief in the hall a few days later and out the corner of his
mouth he said, " good job".

Tom got a big letter of commendation shortly ----- from me.

----- John Crowley

COPS WHO ARE AFRAID 11-19-12

Cops who are afraid



We all love heroes. Audi Murphy,

the Sullivan brothers. There were

hundreds of wonderful heroes on

and after World War II.



The Marines came out of service

and joined the police departments.

Then what happened to them ?



Did they stop being heroes ? I don`t

think so.



Life got complicated, before you hit

the bastard you had to read him his

rights.



The guy that helped to plant the flag

on Iwo and shot a few people on the

way back down, now has a rule book

in his duty case. I can`t begin to tell

you the rules, but if you have not

completed your probation, you better

be prepared to follow that rule book,

word for word.



Cops Who Are Afraid



Big John walked out of the bar where

he had just settled a dispute between

several customers who were ready to

tear each other to pieces.



He walked out to his car, sat and started

to tremble. He could not stop shaking.

He questioned himself, thought maybe

he was having a heart attack. Naww !

He was calm, but sweating profusely.



Walking into the station, Big John went

directly to the Forensics Bureau where he

talked to Sgt. Boog who had previously

invited him to work in the bureau.



They talked and Sgt. Boog dispatched a

memo to the Chief requesting that Big

John be assigned to the Bureau. The next

day Big John was interviewed further,

assigned to the swing shift and spent the

next nine years in the bureau.



Officer Burns came to me one day and

confided that he was losing his nerve. He

just was`nt sure of himself anymore-- so I

had him assigned to traffic, writing parking

tickets.



Then it dawned on me---- and there were

many others with similar "kinks". These

guys are anxious about the number of rules

, but most importantly , they are going to

make mistakes . They know they will make

mistakes. The state supreme court will

come down on them, the United States

Supreme court will find against them and

most importantly ---- they will be criticized

by the members of their own department.



I started a communication with these officers,

requesting transfers to less volatile jobs.

One went to the Juvenile Bureau, two more

were assigned to the Detective Bureau, another

into Forensics.



You see, when a COP works patrol, he has to

know everything, no he has to have average

or better intelligence, but he needs the ability

to sort through problems with lightening speed

and make decisions that will not create further

problems. He has to be in close touch with

the members of the community.



That probably is an oversimplification......what

exactly does this patrol officer need to know to

do his job without controversy or worse ?



At one time I wrote new job classifications, new

advertisements for officer applicants, ads,

requirements, qualifications---- I did exactly what

somebody before me had done, I skirted the

issue.



Getting Security



There has been a problem for a long time , the

problem of officers seeking security on the job.





COPS WHO ARE AFRAID



I do not recall ever knowing a COP who was

afraid physically, every one is there pulling at

the traces ready to throw himself on the pyre

of self sacrifice without much thought to his

own safety.



AFRAID OF THE BOOK



One time when Big John was Sgt. Big he

heard a dispatch that a motorcycle club had

taken over a portion of the beach, making it

difficult for women and children to use that

portion of the beach. On his arrival Big found

three or four officers talking to the "leader".



The motorcycle leader argued that they had

as much right to the beach as anyone else.

Sgt. Big said leave NOW or be arrested.



The COPS started to shuffle feet and tried to

argue with Sgt. Big who simply walked over

to the motorcycle , the most beautiful one on

the beach, placed his foot on the engine and

dumped it into the sand.



Simple solution. The gang did not dare to fight

they were facing community condemnation if

they did the wrong thing. Swing on the Sgt.

No way, the leader was too smart--- he could

have been seriously injured, he could lose face

or and he did---- picked up his motorcycle and

waved his men to leave NOW.



Sgt. Big had a little talk with the officers individually

after this incident and that was the end of it.



The Officers were afraid of making a mistake, of

losing face, of being criticized by superiors, or

of violating some foggy issue in the book of regs.



Sgt. Big solved the problem--- How ?

He was not afraid, perhaps he did`nt know any

better, maybe he was intuitive and sensed the

right action. But, the men were not physically

afraid, they were afraid of the "book", either the

book of regulations , or perhaps the "book" of

public opinion, or the unwritten book, the one

that holds that thin blue line in one cohesive

working unit.



Officer Qurios was assigned to ride with me one

day when he first joined the department.

He said hello followed by a litany of questions

that could have covered an encyclopedia of

policing .

I thought ,"rookie" and forgot about it, but he

never forgot the questions. He was worried about

what he would do under any given situation.

This guy was an ex-marine, at several situations

he demonstrated physical courage, but he never

stopped worrying what he would do in some

hypothetical situation.



The rookie, officer Qurios finally gravitated to a

traffic job and seemed to be content for years.



One of the officers who was assigned to Detective

Bureau distinguished himself over the years.



They were all good men, good officers and good

policemen--- they were simply afraid of ----

something .



----- John Crowley

October 2, 2012









10-2-2012 SOUTH DAKOTA COWBOY

Posted by agudwun at 11:43 AM

Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook1 comment:

agudwunOctober 3, 2012 11:52 AM

This is a representation of

eaglescruagh.blogspot.com



eaglescruagh.blogspot.com is the

email address of this site.



There is no problem with THUNDER BUTTE . COM

This is my blog and a continuation of thunderbutte.com which is alive and well.

amd is the property of MICHAEL CROWLEY and is

written by him.

Thanks----John Crowley (Eagle Cruagh)



ReplyDelete

Add comment

This is a representation of

eaglescruagh.blogspot.com



eaglescruagh.blogspot.com is the

email address of this site.



There is no problem with THUNDER BUTTE . COM

This is my blog and a continuation of thunderbutte.com which is alive and well.

amd is the property of MICHAEL CROWLEY and is

written by him.

Thanks----John Crowley (Eagle Cruagh)



ReplyDelete

Add comment

A R C H I V E S

Read---;  THE DIFFICULT 1930`s



Thunder Butte




About Thunderbutte.com

Thunder Butte, in South Dakota, has featured prominently in my family's history since 1913. Also known as "Wakinyan Paha" to the Lakota, its religious and cultural significance to the Lakota goes back much further in time, still. Rising from the dry, rolling prairie grasslands in Ziebach County, in northwestern South Dakota, the butte is located on the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation.

From the top of the butte, you can see for miles in every direction. There are not many people here, although the land is alive with the memory of those who walked here before us. Taking in the quiet of the plains as they reach to the horizon, you can well imagine the way the world was before we were here, and what it may look like long after we have moved on.

--Mike Crowley

Michael Crowley



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Previous Posts

•Babe Mansbridge - Champion Bronc Rider

•Walking Sam

•Neal Crowley

•Author of Thunder Butte Blog Will be in Faith

•Bigfoot Afoot on the Prairie?

•Dinosaur Bones -- a Key to Economic Development?

•Weather Hat Company Has a Thunder Butte Style

•Thunder Butte Earns a Place in Wikipedia

•Saddle Sore, A Poem

•Early Photo of Thunder Butte

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Who links to me?







November 15, 2009

Crowley Ranch House at Thunder Butte Creek



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

Mike Crowley Sunday, November 15, 2009

1 Comments:

Hello,

I tried to make a comment previously but don't know if it worked. My great grand father was Wes Walenta. I read a portion of your blog to my dad, Don Walenta. He rembers, I assume your father Gene Crowley. He would be open to chatting with you.

You can email me at suzwalenta@yahoo.com

Anonymous, at November 17, 2009 6:30 PM

Post a Comment

THE DIFFICULT 1930`s

THE DIFFICULT 1930`s  is repeated here.
It gives background to eaglecruagh.blogspot.com


Mike Crowley Wednesday, November 23, 2005

(0) comments


November 03, 2005

The Difficult 1930's

South Dakota was stricken hard by drought during the 1930’s. Harold Breimyer, in his book, “Over-fulfilled Expectations: a Life and an Era in Rural America,” recounts doing survey work in Ziebach County in 1938. According to Breimyer, “Ziebach County in 1938 was barren. Only a handful of homesteaders was still to be found.” Among them were the Crowleys, who had settled near Thunder Butte in 1913.



Breimyer says, “They [the homesteaders] had taken up their 160 acres before World War I. A few years of good crops and wartime high prices had offered a false hope that was extinguished with all the tragedy that James Michener describes in Centennial.” Michener’s book, “Centennial,” is a tribute to the West and all of the dramatic hopes and conflicts spurred by generations of fur trappers, cowboys, homesteaders, ranchers, and gold seekers.



In many ways, Ziebach County and the area around Thunder Butte were typical of the West that Michener described. French fur trappers passed through the country beginning in the 1650’s, to be followed by successive waves of Americans seeking their fortune as explorers, ranchers, and homesteaders in the dry lands of the West.



During the 1930’s, according to Breimyer, “South Dakota may have suffered more than any of the (then) forty-eight states from depression and dust-storm drought.” Often, when people think of the 1930’s droughts and the migrations they caused, they think of the poor sod farmers from Oklahoma who picked up and moved west. Few people probably know that while Oklahoma lost 2.5 percent of its population during the 1930’s—almost 60,000 people—according to T.H. Watkins, writing in “The Hungry Years,” South Dakota lost seven percent of its inhabitants, and just short of 50,000 people. Ziebach County was among the hardest hit areas—losing almost 30 percent of its population during the 1930’s. These numbers understate, though, the masses of people—300,000 to 400,000 according to some estimates—from around the country who were on the move, looking for jobs, better land, or a new place to put down roots.



Soon after 1940, most of the Crowleys gave up the toil of ranch life near Thunder Butte and moved to California. Tom Crowley stayed behind for awhile, until his wife and the rest of the family had gotten settled in the San Francisco Bay Area. Only Neal Crowley remained and prospered for years afterward in the town of Faith, not very distant from the family’s former home.

Mike Crowley Thursday, November 03, 2005
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MONTCLAIR (Oakland)-----KATHLEEN--------CHOWS

MONTCLAIR  (Oakland , CA)

Back --- the honeymoon over,
back to the COP job.

We had moved into the "shack"
in the woods on a mountainside.

Mary Ellen left alone all day,
sometimes all night, we needed
a dog.

I always liked Chow Dogs they
had tried to save my life a couple
of times.
We went to Mrs. Renz Chow
kennel and bought one. then two,
then another and another.

Soon a beautiful baby girl was
born, Kathleen.

Then half the mountain collapsed
in a heavy rain.  The house next
door was swept into the street.
I heard the roaring sound and
raced into the backyard with the
baby.
We moved out, bought a house in
San Leandro, all on one floor, big
 back yard.

Now we were happy.

We took all the Chows with us and
kept them on tethers in the back
yard, then we buildt a kennel, then
we got rabbits, then we got pigeons
and chickens and

Then we planted a huge garden
and we were happy.
Then there was Michael, a round
little guy and we were thrilled to
have a boy.  St. Michael was the
patron of the Police, so he was
Michael.
And we were happy.

Then Mary Therese was born.
and she was a round little cherub
And we were happy.

Then Maureen Angela and she was
a doll.
But, before we knew it, Patricia
Ellen and she and Maureen were
inseparable, then

Sean Patrick was born and
then we were happy

Ah, finally Eileen Marie was born
and we were afraid she would never
walk---- she scoooted.

Mary Ellen drove them to school
at the school named after a saint
and then we really were happy.

But it did`nt stop---- Yes, the babies
stopped coming, but they had then
started to Moreau High School in
Hayward, CA. and some prospered
with straight A grades and some
got in trouble and some were just
plain Irish, but
then we were happy.

----- John Crowley

THE ROAD SPLITS----WHICH WAY ?

THE ROAD SPLITS
(Which way to go ? )

Doing cop work, working midnight to 8AM, always tired.

A friend, Andy Caverly, born in Scibereen (sp) Ireland.
Told me he had this gorgeous cousin, single, lived in town.
I was mildly interested, I had met a lot of cousins and they
were all the same, don`t ask.

I was invited to a party----thrown by Andy and his friends.

She was there and I was there and then I found out that
was the reason for the party,  to make us miserable like
they were.

It was not like that,  I just liked to poke fun at marriage.

So, we went on a date--- it did`nt work well at all.
Actually she stood me up.    'Guess it was not that bad, I had
been led to expect that of women.

Then Andy fixed it so I would meet her again.   We acted
friendly toward each other `cuz we did`nt want to seem
unapreciative toward out frinds.  Then I discovered the
real Mary Ellen Zudis.   She was really a nice person.

After about six weeks we decided to get married.  A long
long trail my friend---- Something like 60 years later and
we are still on the same road , the one that we chose way
back then. 

First I had to talk to the priest where she went to Mass,
then that priest had to talk to my priest, then they contacted
her parish priest in St. Charles , Illinois where she grew up.
All the priests talked to the parents and the other priests and
they all decided that we were not that bad.

I had a 1949 Oldsmobile convertible.... Damn, I loved that
car---- so did she.  She went home to make arrangements for
us to get married and I had the Olds lubed and the oil changed.
George Rasmussen worked my shift and my beat to take my
place while I was gone and I went.

Do you know ?  The roads back there follow the section lines.
You go down the road for a mile and it makes a sharp turn to
the left, another mile and it makes a sharp turn to the right.
That Olds barely go moving before we had to turn.

Oh, I forgot to mention.  When we decided to get married we
bought an old vacation house,  (a shack) up in the Montclair
section of Oakland, California.   Then we bought a king size
bed.   I worked with Off. Stan Baker, he agreed to fix up the
shack so we would have a place to sleep when we got back.

This is getting boring--- so, I will save you a little pain and
continue this later.   You can pretend you read it--that`s all
right.

-----  John Crowley

DOG FOOD

Ana Zudis


So I'm at Wal-Mart buying a bag of Purina dog food for my dog. While in the check-out line, a woman behind me asked if I had a dog. Why else would I be buying dog food, RIGHT??? So on impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was starting the Purina Diet again, and that I probably shouldn't because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in intensive care with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms. I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and all you do is load your pockets with Purina Nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.) Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me. I told her no, I stepped off a curb to sniff a poodle's butt and a car hit me. I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard. Better watch what you ask me and be prepared for my answer. I have all the time in the world to think of crazy things to say. Now that you've read this I have to confess, I copied it. Now copy and share - make someone else laugh.

Thank you Ana.   "The woman" in this story is in every store and nearly every story.   She is just the woman who has no regard for what other people think---- I am referring to th ewoman who asked if you have a dog.   You are to be congratulated.   You did not ignore the woman, you educated her.    Thank you,   --- ---  John Crowley

OUR HEROES---- Today and The Old Days

OUR HEROES ----- Today and Yesterday .



There is an interesting photo on my page in one of the groups today. The photo shows a man standing on a rock overlooking a precipice of the Grand Canyon. Just behind the man is a large bear. That pic demonstrates the youth of today, the way I see it. Youth has been made to see them selves as worthless in the eyes of the world.



The solution is to either jump into space (another word for cyber space) or be devoured by the conflicts of state and culture.



I offer no apology for religion, it needs none, but it is a very real and important part of the complex problem faced by our society.



In the old days a common expression was, "there are no atheists in fox holes". indicating that if you did not recognize God, you would when the loss of life was immanent. In World War ll for example, we had many heroes. Audi Murphy, The Five Sullivan brothers who all died in their ship.



All took a chance defending their shipmates and their country, but it was a chance. We have a new kind of hero today. Foremost in my mind is the 14 is the year old girl in Pakistan who faced almost certain death by the cult followers and bigots. She is fighting to live at this moment because some fanatic shot her.

There is no doubt this girl is a hero among heroes.



Mother Theresa who devoted her life to salvation of the poor in the slums of the world. Just the latest, the young man who stepped off the precipice, he left the security of earth and stepped into space from a balloon at some altitude like 24 miles above earth.



Many of us faced the possibility of dropping from a sniper bullet.. But most of us had a chance to live. The heroes today step off into the unknown, whether cyberspace, politics, or experiment. many of them are facing almost certain death.



A horde of young men and women today feel defeated. They no longer see the heroes in their culture. Many no longer see God in their families, or in their culture. They are defeated and this is the curse of our time. The defeat seen by our young.



Awww ! Who am I kidding ? You knew that long ago---- things have been going down hill. We need more heroes , fast ! ----- John Crowley

Posted by agudwun at 10:02 AM No comments:

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March 12, 1951 Appointed Police Officer

City of Alameda
Appointed Police officer
March 12, 1951

I was trained by Jack Fink, Mickey
Preminger, Al (Elwood)McCart,
Bill Mills, Bob Carlson , John Hacking,
Pat McDermott,  and many others.

Those who became COPS soon after
me, some on the same list were Noah
(Pat) Garrett, Danny (Gaetano)
Magliocco, Pete Ege.

I attended an academy at Santa Rita,
Alameda County Jail .

Soon after graduation from the Academy
I was used in various ways.   As a new
and unknown I was used to infiltrate
prostitution rings (suspected), abortion
madams, horse betting and illegal
activities in the bars.

After a brief probation I was assigned ,
according to seniority, to eighteen
months of patrol on midnights, that is
midnight until 8:00 A.M.

At that time an officer had to serve as
a sworn officer for five years before
eligible to take the Sgt. exam.

It will be very difficult to remember
the most interesting people or events.
I will refer back to these times when
reminded or when asked about specific
incidents. There were many, People`s
park riots in Berkeley for example.

The last day I worked, Naval Air Station
Police were involved in a high speed
chase.  They only had old pick-up trucks
and asked me to take over the stop.
I pursued the vehicle at speeds of over
100 MPH through Alameda.  My friend
Greg Martin then assumed the chase
and I shut down.
   My last day at work .......as a COP.

----- John Crowley

SUNSET OVER THUNDER BUTTE

South Dakota sunset---Thunder Butte to the right

WIPING UP A FEW SPILLS

CORRECTIONS, FIXING THNGS
( accidents-- I never make mistakes)

USS ROCHAMBEAU

I said , "the prop turned".  Actually
there are two props, each about
12 feet in height.

BOYLE PHARMACEUTICALS

It sounded like I was hired and
went back to San Francisco.
Actually they kept me for about
two weeks.   I learned how all the
pills were made, how Valtiva is
mixed and spent hours looking
at all the pretty girls on the
packaging lines.   Learning that
Boyle people did not fraternize.

Each of the places where I worked
is a story in itself.  I will go back
from time to time and paint a
few pictures of things that took
place.  Things like meetings where
I explained action of the modems
in an ATM machine.   I have never
used one to this day.

Read and enjoy  (I hope)

----  John Crowley

PHARMACEUTCAL TO POLE LINE HARDWARE

BOYLE PHARMACEUTICALS , inc.

And a great time was had by all.

About three years selling drugs and
I was getting nowhere.   I started to
look around for oportunities.

I was actually tired of driving long
distances,  waiting interminably to
see clients and I was not getting
rich, not even well off.

Then an officer of General Electric
offered me a job, built it up .  Said
as soon as I learned the business
they would promote me sales and
this business paid dramatically
better than drugs.

It was a dumb move.  The officer
that made all the great promises
was fired for being a drunk and
I just kept spinning my wheels.

I quit.

Back to the want ads.   Actually
a guy in the warehouse at G.E.
told me about it.   He said, "you
wouled make a good cop, of
course you would have to go to
school first and take a lot of
courses or you would`nt make
it."

That did it.  Tell me I can`t do
something and I`ll do it.

Took the next exam, I passed
number one, went to academy
and the rest is history , well it
accounted for nearly thirty
years of the rest of my life.

It was a turbulent time--- I was
popular with the press, a
Captain was jealous tried to
get me fired--- the men came
to my defense .

Oakland City College and an
AA in Administration of Justice.
A   B.A in Social Psychology.
An MA  in Public Administration.

Peace Officer Standards and
Training  awarded me all the
certificates up to and including
a Management Certificate.

Then I left and was made Manager
at Alameda Patrol Service , a year
or two, then I was hired by
Burns International Security
Services , Inc.  for about three years.
Sales of Guard Services and alarms.

Then I was hired by Alarm Network
as Manager in San Carlos, Calif.
Alarm Network was a subsidiary of
Eureka Federal Savings bank.
My friend Jim Isom was paid $1,000
for finding me for EFS.

I realize that very little has been said
about most of these jobs, but they
date back in history and create small
interest today.

For anyone who is interested, I have
a few comments to make about
incidents that took place over the
years---- just ask.

-----  John Crowley

JOB SEARCH---- POST WWll

THE BIG JOB HUNT--- post WW ll


Beverly and her parents having settled
me with a nice older couple in Long
Beach, I set about a serious search for
work--- a good job.

Omar McGee, Beverly`s father insisted
on taking me around to old friends to
introduce me and open doors.
I insisted first on canvassing the job
market myself.

First I started in downtown Los
Angelos.  Knocking on doors, filling
out applications in empoyment offices
and answering newspaper ads.

Nothing worked.  Servicemen were
being discharged by the hundreds of
thousands .  It seemed that every
other man on the street was about
my age.

OK., Mr. McGee.   Your turn.

Mr. McGee and I started early one
morning.   We were met with the
utmost civility at every stop.

We went to the famous Hollywood
drugstore where actors and actresses
had been "discovered".  The owner
of the store offered to give me a job
in the back room, learning the
pharmaceutical business.
Minimum wage.  I could`nt hack it.

We called on an old friend of McGee`s
The co-owner of a famous line of
beauty products.  A similar result.

We interviewed with producers,
directors, photographers until we
were ready to drop, but no "big"
offers.

After leaving the McGee`s one after
noon, I walked by an insurance Co.
and  on impulse asked to talk to the
owner.   The owner was a fine young
woman, about 30, actually beautiful.
We talked for a long while and she
asked if I would be interested in
working as her Administrative Assist.

Phew !  It did not require a great
imagination to think how Beverly
would like me working here.
I just sat on this offer.   Thought
about it --- then sat on it.

I decided my chances were better
in the Bay Area and left.

JOB SEARCH IN SAN FRANCISCO.

An ad in the newspaper kept coming
to mind--- Paris Supply Company.
Fair salary plus commission.  Lots of
inducements to a young man out of
work.   I`m hired ?  What do  we sell ?
Beauty supplies ?   I thought it over,
then , decided to give it a try.

Calling on beauty shops.    Not bad,
my sales were excellent, the people
were all nice---But I could not stand
the smells--- so, I kept looking.

The War Assets Administration in
Alameda, California.   Right where
I lived.   A government agency for
the sale of war surplus merchandise.

The pay was excellent and my title
was Pharmaceutical Agent.
My job, selling pharmaceuticals.
After about six months my conscience
was really bothering me.  I had never
been able to find any pharmaceuticals
to sell. 

One day a fellow by the name of Bog
Crain and I decided to quit and start
our own Surplus Sales Company.
We painted the length of our bldg.,
with CRAIN - CROWLEY  RETAIL --
WHOLESALE---HARDWARE AND
TEXTILES.  Figuring that would
cover almost anything we could dig up.

This part is a long, long story---I will
abreviate as much as possible.

We became about the most popular
surplus dealers in the Bay Area.
Not only did we get a lot o f choice
deals, but we managed to work deals
for other dealers.

Down the line we got an order from
the Army of Chiang Kai  Scheck ,
Emperor of China, to supply his
expanding army wth tents, blankets
and all the living neccessities to
pursue his battle against the
Communists encroaching from the
North.

So, we did --- we found it all and
contracted for everything from
Coast to Coast.  Then, our agents
hired to front the deal, told them
where everything was located and
when we returned the deal was
gone.

We managed to recover a couple
hundred thousand, but our  dream
of riches had vanished and our
moral bit the dust.

Bob took a job mixng printer`s ink
in San Francisco and I became the
Administrative Assistant to the
owner of Instantsteam in Oakland.

One night in Bakersfield, California,
perusing the Los Angelos paper, I
saw the ad of  Boyle and Company,
Pharmaceutical Mfg.  Salesman
wanted.  I called , "Can you come
in to see us?"  I walked in to their
office the next morning and they
hired me as thier representative in
the San Francisco Bay Area. Nice
salary, nice commission and a new
car furnished, plus all expenses.

Now that was a job !

Before picking up my new car for
the return trip, I dropped down to
visit Beverly-----Sorry her Momma
said, Beverly is being married.
He has a place in the Canjon and
he is very substantial.

So, I picked up my new car and left
for home----- again.

-----  John Crowley

After 4 1/2 years----- CIVILIAN !

My name finally came up.  Why did it take so long
to get out ?  Because I had no dependants.
No job to go back to , no dependants, single,
dumb, uneducated----  The Navy was in no rush
get us back on the street, so they discharged
everyone else first, then finally we dregs.

Why have`nt I told you about all the exciting
things that happened ?   Because they were
not exciting at the time.   What you might
consider exciting ,  I thought of as just another
day at the office, or sweat shop, or sewing up
wounds, or what ever you need to call it.

I will think of some of those adventures and
go back and tell you all about them-----
Remind me.  OK ?

So, somebody gave me a bus ticket to Portland,
Oregon.  In Portland a ship was to pick us
up and take us to San Francisco.

In Portland, a ship (No , I don`t know the name
of it.  It was a big GRAY ship). We filed on
and the fog came in and we sat in the middle
of the river for a week and a half.   The
sailors on the ship told us they could not
move because they might hit a mine.

Finally,  back on the high seas, then under
the Golden Gate and in to the middle of the
street in San Francisco.   You heard right.
The Captain signaled for full reverse as he
moved in to a berth, so the engine room
turned her up to high power, fast and th e
bow of the ship sliced into the Emarcadero
for about 30 feet.

All the servicemen standing at the rail, went
flat. 
Then an anouncement over the loudspeakers,
"All contraband will be confiscated as you
leave the ship".  "Anyone with contraband
will be detained ".   One could hear the instant
rain of guns and other contraband as it was
thrown over the side.

I walked off the ship with my Japanese rifle
over my shoulder and boarded a bus bound
for "Camp Stoneman" somewhere near
Livermore , California to be discharged.

We sat at a table while a young sailor
typed out a small sheet of paper with the
story of our life, handed us the paper and
we were given a bus ticket back to
San Franciso.  Arriving there, I called home
and somebody came over and picked me up.

The next morning, bright and early , I was
in front of the Employment office.   Damn,
I needed a job and soon.
No, there were no jobs, but we can give you
$52 for 20 weeks.... NO !   I  did`nt want
government money .  I wanted a job.

For a couple of weeks I went to San Francisco
day after day, then to Oakland , day after
day until I decided there were no jobs.

Letter from Beverly---- Come down here,
Daddy can get you a job.

So,  first I bought a new suit,  they were all
cut from surplus officer`s pinks.
Beverly picked me up at the bus depot.  They
had arranged for a room with an old couple
who loved me and I them, out on American
Blvd., in Long Beach.

-----  John Crowley

all older ARCHIVES

                         ARCHIVES
Monday, October 1, 2012


FEBRUARY ----2012

About Thunderbutte.com

Thunder Butte, in South Dakota, has featured prominently in my family's history since 1913. Also known as "Wakinyan Paha" to the Lakota, its religious and cultural significance to the Lakota goes back much further in time, still. Rising from the dry, rolling prairie grasslands in Ziebach County, in northwestern South Dakota, the butte is located on the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation.

From the top of the butte, you can see for miles in every direction. There are not many people here, although the land is alive with the memory of those who walked here before us. Taking in the quiet of the plains as they reach to the horizon, you can well imagine the way the world was before we were here, and what it may look like long after we have moved on.

--Mike Crowley Michael Crowley



Create Your Badge Monday, October 1, 2012


FEBRUARY ----2012

About Thunderbutte.com

Thunder Butte, in South Dakota, has featured prominently in my family's history since 1913. Also known as "Wakinyan Paha" to the Lakota, its religious and cultural significance to the Lakota goes back much further in time, still. Rising from the dry, rolling prairie grasslands in Ziebach County, in northwestern South Dakota, the butte is located on the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation.

From the top of the butte, you can see for miles in every direction. There are not many people here, although the land is alive with the memory of those who walked here before us. Taking in the quiet of the plains as they reach to the horizon, you can well imagine the way the world was before we were here, and what it may look like long after we have moved on.

--Mike Crowley Michael Crowley



Create Your Badge



Previous Posts

•REO Speedwagon

•Just an Old Line Shack

•Pictures and Video

•Old Line Shack

•Saddle Tree

•Thunder of the Butte

•Why No Blog Posts?

•Thunder Butte Now on Facebook Too

•Oh I Only Want to be a Cowboy

•The Long Trail Home





Archive

•current

•February 2005

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•February 2006

•March 2006

•April 2006

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•January 2007

•February 2007

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My Links

Cheyenne River Lakota Nation

Ziebach County History (USGenWeb)

Ziebach County Historical Society

South Dakota Office of Tourism

State of South Dakota

South Dakota Magazine

Faith, South Dakota

Faith Chamber of Commerce

Dupree, South Dakota

Town of Isabel

Timber Lake, South Dakota

Timber Lake Historical Society

Standing Rock Sioux Tribe

Defenders of the Black Hills

S.D. Watch

Owl Tipi Art

Who links to me?







February 04, 2012

REO Speedwagon



Using the REO Speedwagon for a Photo Shoot, 1936



Here's an interesting photo taken near Thunder Butte (background on the right) in 1936 with my grandmother, Mayme Crowley, sitting on the running board of an old REO Speedwagon truck. Her son, Neil, is sitting on the hood of the truck and her brother, Joe Shockley, is sitting on the fender. A friend, Bill Williamson, is standing with a foot propped up on the truck. Of course, it could have just been the sun in her eyes, but Mayme does look downcast. The photo was taken on the occasion of Joe's planned departure from the area. Joe was a long-time resident of Glad Valley.



--Mike Crowley

Mike Crowley Saturday, February 04, 2012
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▼ 2012 (97)

▼ October (49)

THE CAPTURE OF JAMES DANGEROUS GIST.

BACK TO MARE ISLAND---- as a patient.

ROCHAMBEAU (cont) ESPIRITO and NOUMEA

AT WAR WITH HATE A Story by Eagle Cruagh (John...

U.S.S. ROCHAMBEAU (# 1)

ArchivecurrentFebruary 2005March 2005April 2005May...

BEVERLY JEAN McGEE Long Beach, Ca.

MEDICAL TRAINING 2

MEDICAL TRAINING

WORLD WAR II HOSPITAL CORPSMEN

INDUCTION to NAVY (En route Omaha, Nebraska)

Doing the washing aboard Navy Tin Can.

Leaving Faith , South Dakota en route to Join the...

PARKED CARS (END) TRUCK DRIVING (BEGIN)

LOCATING CALIFORNIA

NOTRE DAME FINISHED ----HOME. 10-5-2012

FIRST COMMUNION

ARRIVAL ---- NOTRE DAME ACADEMY

CONTENTS ------FORWARD------ARCHIVES

February 04, 2012REO Speedwagon Using the REO Spee...

Wednesday, October 3, 2012February 04, 2012 ...

REO SPEEDWAGON

Connecting: THUNDER BUTTE.COM and eaglecruagh.blo...

THUNDER BUTTE CREEK (Doan ranch)

THUNDER BUTTE TRAIL DRIVEA Poem by Eagle Cruagh ...

10-2-2012 SOUTH DAKOTA COWBO...

HIGH SCHOOL PAST, SUMMER IS OVER The mail just cam...

10-2-2012 SO...

FEBRUARY ----2012 About Thunderbutte.com Thunder B...

January 22, 2012Just an Old Line Shack The Old Lin...

January 07, 2011Thunder Butte Now on Facebook TooI...

April 01, 2011Why No Blog Posts?Dear readers, you'...

About Thunderbutte.com Thunder Butte, in South Da...

November 04, 2010Far from the Golden Arches Remote...

October 31, 2010Halloween Trickery on the PrairieH...

August 28, 2010Photos from the Faith Centennial Pa...

July 28, 2005The Big Drought: Turning Grasshoppers...

June 25, 2010Long Time Glad Valley Resident, Rex W...

About Thunderbutte.com Thunder Butte, in South Da...

May 23, 2010Massive South Dakota Tornado Not exac...

March 04, 2010Lemmon Family's Baby Book For Sale o...

February 26, 2010Once You've Heard the OwlListen t...

November 22, 2009Earl Engebretson Earl Engebretson...

October 11, 2009Babe Mansbridge - Champion Bronc R...

About Thunderbutte.com Thunder Butte, in South Da...

June 01, 2009Dinosaur Bones -- a Key to Economic D...

May 24, 2009Weather Hat Company Has a Thunder Butt...

About Thunderbutte.com Thund


Previous Posts

•REO Speedwagon

•Just an Old Line Shack

•Pictures and Video

•Old Line Shack

•Saddle Tree

•Thunder of the Butte

•Why No Blog Posts?

•Thunder Butte Now on Facebook Too

•Oh I Only Want to be a Cowboy

•The Long Trail Home





Archive

•current

•February 2005

•March 2005

•April 2005

•May 2005

•June 2005

•July 2005

•August 2005

•September 2005

•October 2005

•November 2005

•December 2005

•January 2006

•February 2006

•March 2006

•April 2006

•May 2006

•June 2006

•July 2006

•August 2006

•September 2006

•October 2006

•November 2006

•December 2006

•January 2007

•February 2007

•March 2007

•May 2007

•July 2007

•August 2007

•September 2007

•October 2007

•November 2007

•December 2007

•January 2008

•February 2008

•March 2008

•April 2008

•May 2008

•June 2008

•July 2008

•August 2008

•September 2008

•October 2008

•November 2008

•December 2008

•January 2009

•February 2009

•March 2009

•April 2009

•May 2009

•June 2009

•July 2009

•October 2009

•November 2009

•January 2010

•February 2010

•March 2010

•April 2010

•May 2010

•June 2010

•July 2010

•August 2010

•October 2010

•November 2010

•December 2010

•January 2011

•April 2011

•December 2011

•January 2012

•February 2012

My Links

Cheyenne River Lakota Nation

Ziebach County History (USGenWeb)

Ziebach County Historical Society

South Dakota Office of Tourism

State of South Dakota

South Dakota Magazine

Faith, South Dakota

Faith Chamber of Commerce

Dupree, South Dakota

Town of Isabel

Timber Lake, South Dakota

Timber Lake Historical Society

Standing Rock Sioux Tribe

Defenders of the Black Hills

S.D. Watch

Owl Tipi Art

Who links to me?







February 04, 2012

REO Speedwagon



Using the REO Speedwagon for a Photo Shoot, 1936



Here's an interesting photo taken near Thunder Butte (background on the right) in 1936 with my grandmother, Mayme Crowley, sitting on the running board of an old REO Speedwagon truck. Her son, Neil, is sitting on the hood of the truck and her brother, Joe Shockley, is sitting on the fender. A friend, Bill Williamson, is standing with a foot propped up on the truck. Of course, it could have just been the sun in her eyes, but Mayme does look downcast. The photo was taken on the occasion of Joe's planned departure from the area. Joe was a long-time resident of Glad Valley.



--Mike Crowley

Mike Crowley Saturday, February 04, 2012
(2) comments


Posted by agudwun at 11:25 AM

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Blog Archive

▼ 2012 (97)

▼ October (49)

THE CAPTURE OF JAMES DANGEROUS GIST.

BACK TO MARE ISLAND---- as a patient.

ROCHAMBEAU (cont) ESPIRITO and NOUMEA

AT WAR WITH HATE A Story by Eagle Cruagh (John...

U.S.S. ROCHAMBEAU (# 1)

ArchivecurrentFebruary 2005March 2005April 2005May...

BEVERLY JEAN McGEE Long Beach, Ca.

MEDICAL TRAINING 2

MEDICAL TRAINING

WORLD WAR II HOSPITAL CORPSMEN

INDUCTION to NAVY (En route Omaha, Nebraska)

Doing the washing aboard Navy Tin Can.

Leaving Faith , South Dakota en route to Join the...

PARKED CARS (END) TRUCK DRIVING (BEGIN)

LOCATING CALIFORNIA

NOTRE DAME FINISHED ----HOME. 10-5-2012

FIRST COMMUNION

ARRIVAL ---- NOTRE DAME ACADEMY

CONTENTS ------FORWARD------ARCHIVES

February 04, 2012REO Speedwagon Using the REO Spee...

Wednesday, October 3, 2012February 04, 2012 ...

REO SPEEDWAGON

Connecting: THUNDER BUTTE.COM and eaglecruagh.blo...

THUNDER BUTTE CREEK (Doan ranch)

THUNDER BUTTE TRAIL DRIVEA Poem by Eagle Cruagh ...

10-2-2012 SOUTH DAKOTA COWBO...

HIGH SCHOOL PAST, SUMMER IS OVER The mail just cam...

10-2-2012 SO...

FEBRUARY ----2012 About Thunderbutte.com Thunder B...

January 22, 2012Just an Old Line Shack The Old Lin...

January 07, 2011Thunder Butte Now on Facebook TooI...

April 01, 2011Why No Blog Posts?Dear readers, you'...

About Thunderbutte.com Thunder Butte, in South Da...

November 04, 2010Far from the Golden Arches Remote...

October 31, 2010Halloween Trickery on the PrairieH...

August 28, 2010Photos from the Faith Centennial Pa...

July 28, 2005The Big Drought: Turning Grasshoppers...

June 25, 2010Long Time Glad Valley Resident, Rex W...

About Thunderbutte.com Thunder Butte, in South Da...

May 23, 2010Massive South Dakota Tornado Not exac...

March 04, 2010Lemmon Family's Baby Book For Sale o...

February 26, 2010Once You've Heard the OwlListen t...

November 22, 2009Earl Engebretson Earl Engebretson...

October 11, 2009Babe Mansbridge - Champion Bronc R...

About Thunderbutte.com Thunder Butte, in South Da...

June 01, 2009Dinosaur Bones -- a Key to Economic D...

May 24, 2009Weather Hat Company Has a Thunder Butt...

About Thunderbutte.com Thund