| Back to INDEX |
CASPER 1887-1987 Linda L. Doherty Cover Design: “Jesus as Shepherd” by Sister Janice Hasselo, O. P., Pastoral Associate The Church of St. Anthony, Casper, Wyoming. This book was written, published, printed and bound in the State of Wyoming. Printer: Mountain States Lithographing Co. Layout by Linda L. Doherty This book is a Diocesan Centennial Project sponsored and published by St. Anthony’s Parish Council Casper, Wyoming August, 1987. All rights reserved Copyright (c) 1987 by Linda Doherty This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission. For my husband, Tom, whose love and understanding make all things
possible. Four years ago I came among you. I was somewhat a stranger to you, and you were “the people of St. Anthony’s” to me. Today I feel that I can call you friends. I have grown in my love and affection for you. I have been inspired and touched by your faith and goodness. These have been difficult years, a difficult time in Casper. I have shared with you the disappointment of joblessness. I have been saddened when so many families I was privileged to call friends had to move away. I prayed with you. I tried to inspire you with hope and confidence. I asked that we, as a people, never give up hope, never give up trying As we make plans for the celebration of our Centennial as a Diocese, as “CHURCH” in Wyoming, I reflected on how important it is to strive to preserve the faith-stories of the people who have gone before us. They were people who came to Wyoming, who came to Casper as a pilgrim people, bringing the faith with them. It was the faith that sustained them during the loneliness and hardships of the earliest years here. It was the faith that sustained them during the cycles of prosperity and depression that had been so much a part of Casper’s history. This is a legacy we should not forget. We will not forget. This beautiful parish history, the history of a people, AN IRISH LEGACY, hopefully will preserve our heritage for posterity. It’s author, Linda Doherty, has, I believe, captured the soul of a people, the soul of a faith community. We are all indebted to her for her labor of love. Just one regret. Would that it could include a little vignette of the life story of each person that has made St. Anthony’s and Casper great. May we all meet in heaven for a grand and glorious reunion where we will never tire of telling and retelling our stories! ! Lovingly and gratefully yours, Preface Preface [Casper 1987, 1] There’s a little spot of Ireland that is locked in by mountains and the sea. For centuries the people there were isolated. Few surnames come out of this place as the people there were all related one way or another. They made their living out of the land, and when the great Potato Famine came, full half of them died. Those who stayed faced death. Those who could, came up with a few pounds, went down to the bay, handed them to the captain of a boat and, with just the clothes on their backs, sailed away. The place is County Cork, Ireland. The Irish also came from other parts, most notably County Kerry and County Cavan. The boats generally landed in New York or Boston, and many immigrants stayed there. Others stayed just long enough to make the money to go west. At first, one might think it odd that they would come to a barren place like Casper, but she offered open skies, acres and acres of free and open land, a bit of money in their pockets-enough to buy food to eat. “This was heaven to them,” a descendant explained. So, they stayed and they built a life here. Being a religious people and depending heavily on their faith, they also built the Church, the Catholic Church, and it grew. Today, Casper’s Catholic Community still boasts some of the “Old Irish” and is guided by at least two native Irish priests. But this community also boasts the descendants of Italians, Scots, English, a very active Hispanic contingent, and nearly every other group you can think of. And all of us together, as God would have it, share the legacy left by a few hungry Irish sheepherders who came to Casper nearly a century ago. This is a people history. By that I mean it is a history seen through the eyes of people. Parts of it are downright personal: the facts as seen by those presenting them, or by me. And should you talk to other people, you might get a completely different view. I talked to people who were accessible to me, and might have gone on forever but for the time constraints. I found the work fascinating and fun, and a top-notch experience. At times, it may seem that this is not a church history because it deals with the lives of the people around the church. To me, the two are inseparable. To understand them, and the doings within the church, you must find out what they did after Mass on Sunday. I do not pretend to have here evolved the complete objective history of the Catholic Community of Casper. Rather, this is a subjective piece, spotlighting certain people here and there, and the times and events which affected their lives. I chose this approach with the hope of capturing the character of the church and the flavor of the times through which it has grown. I know I have overlooked a lot, and that uncharted territory I leave for others who follow. In writing this book, I have learned so much about Casper, about people, about my faith and about myself. First, I would like to thank Monsignor O’Neill for his grand idea, and for his absolute faith in my abilities. “Yes, you can,” is a favorite phrase of his, and, as he is a priest-an Irish one at that-I didn’t dare not believe him. Next came all the wonderful people who invited me into their homes, treated me like one of the family and shared their lives and memories so freely. If you ever think there’s no hope for mankind, write a book like this one (and, trust me, there are many more wonderful people out there). You will find that people are charming and loving and so willing to help if only you ask. Thank you all. And, perhaps most importantly, I would thank the people who came before us. Not being a particularly strong person myself, I so greatly admire them. They came to a barren, empty land. They called it “God’s Country”-I think because He was the only one here! Nonetheless, they built a city out of it. They came with nothing, most of them, no money, no material wealth, and only their faith to guide them. They beat the odds, these hard-working folks, and they remembered to say thank you to God. They built a church and increased their numbers. They have served Casper in almost every way possible as good citizens and good Catholics. Though some among them have tripped or fallen along the way, they’ve always been willing to lend the humblest of hands to help each other. Casper’s Catholics are an industrious lot, even today. If something needs doing, they roll up their sleeves and do it. If money is scarce, they do the work themselves. If times are hard, they band together and pull each other through. All I can say, after a prayer of thanks to God for His part in all of this, is a joyful thanks to you, for reading this book, for learning what it has to teach, and for living the great faith in which we Catholics believe. Before There Was A Casper [Casper 1987, 3] In the year 1887, where Casper stands today, there was nothing, save sagebrush scraping the dusty plains and the howl of prairie wolves to pierce the cold Wyoming wind. Then, the land lay quiet, as if in wait for the effects of the past and present in other parts of the world. Years before, central Wyoming had hosted various tribes of Plains Indians as they passed through this land in Massive bison hunts. Later came the white men, fur trappers who followed the North Platte River in search of beaver pelts. The river was once again a source of activity as the Mormons followed its course, attempting to escape religious persecution. In fact, a ferry was built right near Casper in 1847. It was to lead them to their “promised land” in Utah. In the 1840s, Fr. Jean Pierre DeSmet brought Catholicism to the Indians of Central Wyoming. He won them over with gentle missionary manners and sincerity. In Alfred J. Mokler’s History of Natrona County, Mokler cites DeSmet’s true affection for the Indians and his respect for their way of life. Apparently, when the Indians brought him gold, he explained to them the White man’s obsession with it. He told them their precious land would be desecrated should the Whites learn of this gold. He promised, too, never to reveal the secret of its location. He never did. Unfortunately for the Indians, White men found the gold themselves and DeSmet’s predictions became a harsh reality. The first recorded Catholic service in Wyoming was celebrated by this same tender missionary. Fr. DeSmet wrote thus of the service, which took place on Horse Creek near the site of Old Fort Bonneville in 1840: “On Sunday, the 5th of July, I had the consolation of celebrating the holy sacrifice of Mass. The altar was placed on an elevation, and surrounded with boughs and garlands of flowers; I addressed the congregation in French and English, and spoke also by an interpreter to the Flatheads and Snake Indians. It was a spectacle truly moving for the heart of a missionary, to behold an assembly composed of so many different nations, who all assisted at our holy mysteries with great satisfaction. This place has been called since that time, by the French Canadians, La Prairie de la Messe (Prairie of the Mass).” By 1850, the Oregon Trail was at its peak and they say that the tracks of wagon wheels can still be seen along the Platte River banks near Casper. 1859 saw the first permanent structures being built near here, a trading post and bridge. The little area also served as a Pony Express stop and telegraph office for those j going west. The bridge across the Platte became important as a military outpost when the Indians finally decided that these White men were coming too far, too fast and in too great numbers. It was just as DeSmet had warned. The Platte Bridge Station opened in 1862. A man named Caspar Collins was assigned there a year later. When he and his troops took off to escort a wagon train into the station, they came under Indian attack. Collins was killed as he attempted to help a wounded comrade, and the station came to be named Fort Caspar in his honor. Not surprisingly, none of these people coming through this barren land ever considered actually living here. No, that eventuality was the result of other factors, some seeming so unrelated as to be of no consequence. The potato famine in Ireland, for example. This famine had a devastating effect on the Irish economy, and for many, the only choice was to leave the homeland to start fresh somewhere else. Oftentimes, the “somewhere else” was America, a land of promises and dreams. Unfortunately, once these optimistic Irish arrived, they found slums, discrimination and help wanted signs declaring, “No Irish need apply.” So much for dreams. But the West was different. It was exciting, it was open, and it was free. Truly, a man could make his own way there. So, that’s the direction they took. Some joined the Army and fought in the Indian Wars. Others joined the railroad to follow the tracks as far as they would go. One man, John Mahoney, is credited with populating much of Wyoming, not with progeny, but with his Irish kin. John was an Irish Catholic who had first come to Wyoming in 1877 with the military. He had been involved in what was called the Meeker Massacre in Colorado. In that skirmish, 13 men including Federal Agent Nathan Meeker, had been killed in a brutal ambush staged by Ute Indians. Mahoney was one of the survivors. Deciding at that point that he had seen enough of war, particularly Indian war, John returned to Rawlins to begin a modest sheep business. And he wrote some letters home. The late 1880s brought several difficult winters to Wyoming. Losses in the cattle business have been estimated at anywhere from 30 to 90 percent of the total. This, they say, brought the “Irish Revolution.” Irishmen started infiltrating the area, coming straight from the Old Country. They spoke in brogues so thick, many native Americans could barely understand them. But, they knew the sheep business and this put them in great demand. With cattle down, sheep and Irishmen to run them became a valuable resource. John Mahoney was becoming a busy man-popular, too. His flock was steadily increasing. He needed help and his letters had piqued the curiosity of more than one relative at home. John sent for a man named Pat Sullivan, a hard worker with a good business sense. Pat was a native of County Cork and, on arrival, found America to his liking. He started herding sheep near Casper. Richard Tobin was a cousin of Pat’s. (Their mothers were sisters.) He came, too. Richard went by the nickname of “Red” because of his bright red hair. Starving in Ireland was not much to Red’s liking [Casper 1987, 4] either, so he hopped a boat one day and came to America. He landed in Boston, worked his way down to Rhode Island and took a job milking cows to earn his way west. By 1886, he was checking out a homestead near Midwest and working with his cousin, Pat Sullivan and Tobin were just two of many Irish who would come to Wyoming and decide to stay. In fact, at that time nearly one-third of Wyoming’s foreign-born population was Irish. Thus, it is small wonder that Catholics began to play an active part in the development of the Territory. From 1857 to 1887, Roman Catholic activity in Wyoming was guided from a diocese in Omaha, Nebraska. But, on August 9 of that year, the diocese of Cheyenne was formed to oversee the Territory. An Irishman by the name of the Most Reverend Maurice Burke was brought to Cheyenne to serve as first Bishop of the diocese. Bishop Burke was not completely taken with his new assignment. According to A History of the Diocese, by Bishop Patrick McGovern, published in 1941, the Most Reverend Burke inherited six priests, eight churches, one hospital, one academy, two parochial schools, one Indian Mission and 7500 Catholics. Among his earliest requests was to have the See suppressed as, he noted, this was no fit place for a diocese. In fact, he made a trip all the way to Rome to state his case, but they sent him back anyway. Someone must have listened, however, as Bishop Burke finally was granted a transfer just six years later and was not replaced for four years after that. In the meantime, Casper began to take shape. The year that Bishop Burke arrived in Wyoming was the same year that the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad Company announced that it would extend its line to a point near the old Fort Caspar, and that plans were being made to build a town somewhere near there. This announcement, combined with the influx of Irish interested in sheepherding, and the Homestead Act passed by Congress, set the stage for Casper. The Homestead Act offered 160 acres of land to any man who could prove he had never fought against the United States, was the head of a family, or was 21 and a citizen or had tiled papers to become a citizen. Meanwhile, in the Missouri Valley of Iowa, a young woman by the name of Mary Ann Coyle had fallen in love with a dashing Irishman by the name of Dunn, William F. Dunn. On April 24, 1888, they were married, and soon they, too, departed for Wyoming. Dunn worked as an agent for the railroad and, on June 15, 1888, when the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad made good on its promise to push on from Glenrock to Casper, Dunn was on it. As he stepped off the train, Dunn probably was not terribly impressed. What were his thoughts? Could he envision the city that would be? He must have seen such towns rising out of the wilderness at the end of the railroad line. But predicting Casper’s rise would have taken some imagination. The town had not yet been surveyed and most of those who came ahead did so with the intent of moving on as soon as the railroad did. Such temporary towns were not uncommon as the Wyoming frontier moved to the west. These little communities were anything but genteel. One wonders how the priests and preachers of various faiths ever got the nerve to approach. But they did. In Lusk, for example, the first recorded sermon came from a Reverend Bross of Nebraska. He stood in a wagon, its seat turned round to serve as a pulpit. As word passed that a man was preaching in town, stores and saloons closed down. Cowboys, gamblers and saloon keepers, 120 in all, gathered to hear the Reverend speak. In Big Horn, a curtain was drawn across the bar of the saloon to create a more reverent atmosphere for the firs sermon there. Later, the saloon was closed for business once again to convince its clients to help build a Sunday School. The first church in this colorful little town was bull with money acquired in a Poker jackpot. Not much of one, but it was indeed a start. Big Horn is where many of the Irish sheepmen who wintered near Casper would spend their summers. Trailing sheep to the lush summer range, they nicknamed the area “Little Ireland” and called the route there “the Irish highway.” The Big Horn became a summer rendezvous spot for the Irish and remained so for many, many years. Here they celebrated many festivals and feasts, often with a priest in tow. Names common around the campfires were Sullivan, Daly, Mahoney, Burke, Tobin, McCarty, Swanton and Murphy. Many we’ll meet again in Casper, Wyoming, the town they built out of the prairie’s edge Believing In The Wilderness (1888-1890) [Casper 1987, 5] Back in Casper, William F. Dunn and his young wife enjoyed the grandest home in town. It was in the train depot! But, hey, this was the first home in Casper to have plaster on its walls! Other folks lived in tents, slept in sleeping bags and ate by campfires. It must have made an interesting sight: a railroad track going nowhere surrounded by a few wandering souls huddled around campfires in the black of a prairie night. with only the stars and the fires to light their private thoughts. How surprised the wolves must have been to suddenly have such strange company! As time went on, a few buildings were “roughed in.” They were built of green lumber from the mountain, topped with corrugated iron. Surely these people prayed at night that God would guide and protect them as is His way. Or maybe they were just so exhausted that He took care of them anyway. It soon became apparent that the economic slump in the cattle industry was affecting plans for railroad expansion too. And, for awhile at least, Casper would be the end of the line. A few who were there, many of them Catholic, rolled up their sleeves, accepted their fate and the fact that they would not be moving from this barren wasteland for some time to come. They began to build a town. Some sent for families, some came by covered wagon and always, they helped each other. Strangers weren’t strange, as everyone was new here, and everyone pitched in to help build homes and to give the town a name. Merchandise and supplies arrived not only by train, but also by bull teams called “freighters,” and later by “string teams” of up to twenty horses at a time. Imagine the excitement as one of these freighters clomped into town with fresh supplies and goods everyone had waited weeks to get - not exactly Eastridge Mall style! Travel in those days was generally facilitated by covered wagon, horseback, stagecoach or, for the highest in fashion, horse and buggy. Of course, there were no streets or sidewalks in Casper in the early days. In fact, an article in the Denver Post in 1951 noted, “Cowpunchers, soldiers, sheep, cattle and gunplay characterized the early ramshackle siding on the route west. And it was allowed by them who knowed that Casper was no fittin’ place for those what liked things genteel.” In the Fall of 1888, the railroad finally surveyed a permanent townsite, just west of where the people were living - oops! That area became known then as “old town.” The railroad and J. M. Carey and Brother offered lots for sale at low, low prices. But purchasers were scarce as many still had their doubts about Casper and its prospects for the future. Oscar Hiestand, who had ridden with the Carey outfit in 1885 appeared on the scene to lend a hand. One wonders if sales would have gone better had the small populace known the railroad would not move another inch for yet some 17 years! 1889 bade well for the area. In January an editorial in the newly-founded Casper Weekly Mail proclaimed, “There are springs in various localities that flow all the way from one gallon to ten gallons per day. It is by these springs that the oil belt of Wyoming is traced for more than 200 miles.” At about this time, a man named Phillip Shannon filed claims north of Salt Creek. He drilled a 1,000 foot well in what soon was named Shannon Field. He found himself with five to ten barrels of oil a day. Eureka! Shannon and his associates formed a corporation and called it the Pennsylvania Oil Company. Back in Casper more good fortune was soon apparent. A little girl was born to the Dunns. Her name was Theresa - nickname of Tessa - and she was the first white woman born in what would soon be Natrona County. The Dunns in this instance, quickly realized the problems of isolation. In a place like this, life brought no guarantees. Thus, Theresa’s baptism took on great importance to them. To do right by the little girl, her parents bundled her up and traveled 175 miles from Casper to Chadron, Nebraska, where Tessa was properly baptized. Dunn was suddenly keenly aware of the need to introduce a bit more religion into the ramshackle town of Casper. In Chadron, he must have talked it up a bit as, on March 3rd, Reverend Bross made the trek to Casper. Though not a Catholic, he did deliver the first religious service in the town, this in a private home. The Casper Weekly Mail noted on this occasion that, “while there are but a few of our male adult population that are ordinarily supposed to have souls (worth speaking of) to save, there are women and children.” At this, Mr. Dunn must have nodded knowingly, thinking some such as, “Point made.” On March 22, President Benjamin Harrison appointed Francis E. Warren official Governor of the Territory, and on May 6, Casper was incorporated as a town. Somehow, the name “Caspar” was misspelled and thus, the name became “Casper,” leading one astute reporter some years hence to note that “Casper was, in a sense, founded by fur traders and a typographical error.” Another noted that “Casper has been spelled wrong ever since with nobody but the historians objecting.” They do object vociferously, however, and even today, there are occasional uprisings of petitioners to get the darn thing spelled right! No matter, Casper overcame such fantastic odds in ever coming into being, a mere misspelling couldn’t stop her now. In 1889 there were about 100 buildings in the town, flocks of sheep were streaming into the county, immigrants, regardless of origin, were welcomed and readily accepted. [Casper 1987, 6] Bodies were the scarcest resource. And thus, the 1890 Census reported Casper’s population at 544, up from 0 a mere three years before. As people began to settle, religion became again an important consideration especially for the immigrant Catholics. Their religion provided them with stability, guidance and support in a disorganized, wild and often uncontrollable environment. While there were, as yet, no assigned priests, there certainly was a great deal of faith, Christianity and good Catholic teaching, at least within the family. William Dunn, for example, brought his religion with him, reading to his children by the light of the fire from The Manual of the Holy Catholic Church - The Beautiful Teachings - Light from the Altar. However adventurous, Dunn was still a quiet, reserved man who would teach his children well. The manual is today a family heirloom, handed from one generation to the next, a symbol and a sign that even the “Wild West” had, beneath its rough exterior, a respect for the grace of God. 1890 brought more organization to the town of Casper and its environs. A petition was circulated to split the northern part of then Carbon County to form Natrona County. On March 3, the County was formed with Casper as its seat. The following month, the Town Hall was built. It was a single story structure which would serve as a general meeting place for all. In fact, it would soon serve as the setting for the first Catholic Mass ever celebrated in Casper, Wyoming. Oddly enough, this great event came about as an indirect result of Wyoming’s receiving the honor of statehood on July 10, 1890. One William F. Dunn was elected as representative to the first State Legislature. The job required a trip to Cheyenne, whereupon our Mr. Dunn met and became friends with Father Francis Nugent. Thus, when Mrs. Dunn gave birth to a tiny son, Eugene, it was Father Nugent who came to Casper to perform the baptism. While here, he also agreed to sing the first Catholic Mass. Excitement ran high on this occasion, as the ladies hurried about the Town Hall preparing for themselves and their families a makeshift church with an improvised altar and all manner of imaginative furnishings. But to those in attendance, this Mass was one they would always remember. After that, Fr. Nugent came to Casper on occasion for the purpose of baptizing the children of the town. [Casper 1987, 7] Still, Casper had no Catholic church. Even by 1895, the town was but a dot on a missionary priest’s map. But the interest and faith of the community had been shown. Casper became a stop, albeit an irregular one, on the route of Reverend P. Brophy (as spelled in church records, Mokler spells it Brofie) of Chadron. When Mass was offered, it was in the Town Hall in the Episcopal Church (as there was no room for inter-religious rivalries in this tiny community) and in private homes. One of the most popular of these was the home of the Trevett family. The Trevetts had one long room and a sideboard which, overturned, made an acceptable altar. The Dunns also offered their home for services on occasion. Attending Mass thus became a social event and a wondrous treat. No one in this isolated community considered it anything but a celebration. The town, meanwhile, was not as saintly as it might have been. In 1890, Casper recorded its first murder—that of a drunken cowpuncher. According to one report, he was shot off of his horse by a man who, simply “didn’t like cowpunchers.” Then came the prospectors, the oil speculators, the railroad men. Those who came to Casper were mostly men, thereby creating a market for a certain kind of woman. These began to arrive, and soon parts of the town were barred to respectable women and children, “for their own protection,” of course. Thus, religion was a fact of life only to those who truly sought to find it and, but for those few, the town of Casper might never have become anything more than a stop at the end of the line. And So They Built A Church (1891-1899) [Casper 1987, 8] In 1891, a branch of the American Protective Association became active in Cheyenne. Members attempted to use the Republican Party to promote anti-Catholic goals. It has been speculated that the rise of this sentiment may have resulted from the influx of Catholic workers holding jobs with the railroad during the economic depression of the time. This group was most secretive, but as nearly as can be told, its aims included ousting Catholics from public office, maintaining the nonsectarian public school and ending the use of public funds to support religious education. Perhaps the person in Casper most affected by this group was Pat Sullivan himself. Sullivan had become one of the most successful sheepmen in the Natrona County area and had gone into partnership with John Mahoney of Rawlins. He was a Republican and had political aspirations. Consequently, he kept a low profile of his Catholicism, and when one does research, one finds at first that he was not particularly active in the church. But a little digging reveals his contributions were, in fact, exceedingly generous. In his own way, Pat Sullivan did more for the Catholics and his countrymen in Casper than anyone ever realized. In Father John Mullin’s history of the parish, he explains Sullivan’s contributions to Casper thus: In order to protect his flocks and provide shepherds, and at the same time, alleviate the conditions of his relatives and his fellow countrymen in Ireland, Mr. Sullivan began the importation of his kin. “Steadily, therefore, the number of Irish and, accordingly, Catholics, increased in Casper and its vicinity, and thereby a new era in Catholic welfare dawned. The generosity, liberality and loyalty of the Irish race so inherent in her people were brought to Casper, and from their influx, the comfort of the clergy and the prosperity of the church have been marked.” In 1894, Sullivan became a naturalized citizen. He ran for public office and served two terms in the State House, followed by four more in the State Senate. Also in 1894, there was a marriage by one Margaret McDonald to Oscar Hiestand. Though he was not a Catholic, she was, and the two had an influence on the church in Casper throughout their lives. Mrs. Hiestand remembered the first years of her marriage and the isolation that was characteristic of Casper at the time. She had no neighbors for some years and remembered only the Indians stopping by for water. The ways of the Whites were quite strange to them and they found White women, in particular, most fascinating. Mrs. Hiestand once said she would turn to see the Indians peering through the windows at her as they headed to town to receive their government allotment of supplies. A commissary for this purpose was set up at the C. H. Mercantile Company near the railroad depot. Tessa Dunn remembered the Indians, also, as shy but curious. As a child, she would run to their campsite when they came to town. The children would talk to the men, but the squaws would pay them little mind. Just about this time, too, the Pennsylvania Oil and Gas Company built a refinery in Casper. The refinery was capable of producing 100 barrels of oil per day. This brought people and, with them, great hope for the future prosperity of the town. It also brought Casper’s first severe housing shortage. With the people came a greater demand for religious growth. Soon, a Father Ahern took over for Father Brophy, and by 1897, Casper was receiving regular visits and people were offering Masses with some regularity. In Cheyenne that same year, Wyoming finally received its second Bishop, the Most Reverend Thomas M. Lenihan, another Irishman. The way was open for greater development of Catholicism within the state. After this, in Casper, a group of determined Irish women gathered with the specific intent of starting th< long-awaited Catholic church. They included Mrs. John Trevett, Mrs. J. P. Smith, Mrs. Wm. F. Dunn, Miss Juli Mahoney and Mrs. Oscar Hiestand. Only one report, it i interesting to note, included the name of Mrs. Pat Sullivan. The women formed a Society to raise money for the Catholic church. They went house to house seeking subscriptions. Non-Catholics, as well as Catholic contributed. When met with some success, the ladies were joined in their efforts by the new Bishop who then formed Building Committee. A few years ago, a Father Hoodack likened this history to a cartoon he pictured in his mind. These six women having waited so long for an opportunity to formalize their beliefs, charged on ahead with poor Bishop Lenihan running frantically after them calling, “Wait for me! Wait for me!” Despite the lack of any sort of women’s liberation these Irish ladies were not to be stopped. They raised good sum of money on subscriptions. And, in the Fall, they held the first of Casper’s Catholic church bazaars, a tradition that would become the source of wonderful memories for many of Casper’s citizens for many years come. By the end of 1897, the funds had been raised, and it was clear that very soon there would be a Catholic church in Casper. The year 1898 was a landmark one for Catholics. They were blessed with the arrival of a resident priest. They were able to build the church so long awaited. And yet, so soon the very fiber of their faith would be tested sorely. By now the population of Casper had risen to 800 people and Bishop Lenihan’s Building Committee had reached nearly all of them. Donations came not only from Catholics or even those who might use the church, but from all the townsfolk. Frontier spirit, they called it. Even the [Casper 1987, 9] bazaar involved the help of others, including the well-known Mrs. Nicolaysen. The first priest, the Reverend James A. Keating, arrived in town at the order of Bishop Lenihan. Fr. Keating was a very young man and approached his new assignment with zeal. Calling almost immediately for bids for construction of the new church building, he settled on a contract with Mr. John Trevett. According to the abstract, the property was secured from Townsite Corporation, but whether it was received by gift, purchase or donation is not known. Nonetheless, a church was built in short order on the southeast corner of First and Center Streets, opposite what would someday be the Henning Hotel. The cost was $1650. According to notes in church records, the new church was named after St. Anthony because the “A” in Fr. Keating’s name stood for none other than “Anthony.” This record states that this information was gleaned from a Father Duffy who served in Cheyenne and Sheridan at the time that Fr. Keating served Casper. Groundbreaking took place on March 15 and the local paper reported
it thus: Upon its completion, the little church “was a pride and a blessing to the Catholic people, and at the same time a house of God and a place of prayer,” according to Fr. Mullin’s history. Certainly, it was a great work to the small parish body and the young priest who led them. The first child baptized in the new church was Kathleen Sullivan, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Sullivan. Meanwhile, Casper was trying to become a bit more respectable in other spheres, and entered what came to be known as its “Sunday School Town” phase. Lewd women were ordered off the streets and out of the saloons, though interestingly not out of town. And Casper, unlike some other Wyoming towns, allowed its saloons to stay open even on Sundays for many years to come. In fact, Casper never became quite as “respectable” as other places. Even church-goers enjoyed their dances, and the Irishmen were well known for their ability to imbibe great quantities of alcohol. Dances in the old town hall were fun social affairs, attended by nearly all the townsfolk. For years Tessa Dunn recounted how her Mom and Dad had fixed up the hand express cart from the depot with warm blankets and pillows, then put young Tessa and her brother, Eugene, to sleep in it, and wheeled them down to the Town Hall. There they slept while their parents danced the night away. But May of 1898 took all the joy from Casper as the faith of this tiny frontier community was tested to its limit. An epidemic of spinal meningitis broke out and spread quickly among the children of Casper, killing many and leaving others very ill. In a panic, parents tried to flee with their babies. Some got out, but as soon as word traveled that this deadly disease originated in Casper, anyone from there was evicted, even from the homes of friends and [Casper 1987, 10] relatives. Casperites were put off trains and refused passage. Attempts to escape having failed, the families of Casper were forced to return and pray that God would spare their children. Some He did not. And it was only in faith that they continued, disheartened and in sorrow for their great losses. By summer, however, the greatest danger had passed. Those who had fled returned, and those who had lost, adjusted, day by day. The newspaper blamed the outbreak on unsanitary conditions, and the town council began actions compelling people to clear their residences of garbage and to remove the cow corrals and hog pens from the middle of town. In July, 1898, William Dunn received a commission as Captain in the Wyoming National Guard, and was ordered to report for duty at Tampa, Florida. The Spanish/ American War was on. Dunn served for two years, the first in camps in the south and the last aboard the transport Ingalls in Santiago and Havana. He would not be discharged until the summer of 1901. During this time, in Casper, the Dingley Tariff of 1897 was having its effect on the area. This legislation provided protection against raw wool imports and made the sheep business more attractive than it had ever been before. For one thing, it took less capital to enter the sheep business than it did to get started with cattle. With sheep running a mere $2 to $3 a head, it wasn’t that difficult to herd 1000 to 2000 head or more on public lands. Then, too, many of the herders were willing to take their pay in ewes, saving even the cost of labor. The Irish system seemed to be working perfectly. A successful Irishman sent back for friends and relatives he knew he could trust. The new arrival would provide a source of labor, would ease things up at home, and would help Wyoming grow too. Many of the immigrants preferred to take their pay in ewes, remaining with their employers until they had enough to start their own flocks. When they left their sponsor, they would send home yet again for a replacement, often providing free passage as well. Thus, the numbers of Irish increased, as did the number of sheep. At the turn of the century, the number of sheep rose rapidly from 297,000 to 538,000, and, by 1907, Casper one of the largest wool-shipping centers in the world. Her shearing pens saw more than a million sheep a year trailed [Casper 1987, 11] in from all parts of the state. With prosperity came organization. The town had its own herd of cows, which, by order of the Town Council, was now required to be herded away from the community for grazing, being brought back for milking. Prior to the epidemic of 1898, the cows were maintained at night in corrals in the middle of town. Herding and milking chores went to the young boys of Casper. Life was not easy and everyone was expected to help out. There was occasionally a bout of drama like we see in the western movies, but the reality comes out a little differently. Oscar Hiestand served as County Sheriff for a time, and, during his term, a gang of thieves attacked a train in what was known as the Wilcox Train Robbery. Mr. Hiestand joined Sheriff Joe Hazen of Converse County and Detective Vizzard of the Union Pacific Railroad, and the three signed on a posse of men. They rode out of town just like John Wayne might have done, but there the similarity ended. A series of mishaps left Sheriff Hiestand on foot, having lost his horse. The tracking proved hazardous as the bad guys seemed to have the lead, and would shoot up a storm to keep it. Christianity escaped them. The posse lost them, and soon “tips” started coming in from good citizens everywhere. The gang appeared in half a dozen places at the same time, and numbered anywhere from four to ten men. Meanwhile, as Sheriff Hiestand tried to find himself another mount, the townsfolk stood on their front porches watching the robbers gallop past, cross the Platte, and make good their escape to the famous Hole-In-The-Wall! So much for the “Wild West.” In other ways, however, Casperites were doing well. They were making a life for themselves. Mrs. Trevett opened a millinery shop and notion store. Her husband, John, ran the confectionary store. Mr. Trevett, you remember, built the first church after his wife helped raise the money. He was a native of Cork, Ireland, like Pat Sullivan, and a jack-of-all-trades, it would seem. He also played in the first Casper band. A. A. Schulte was the town blacksmith, with a shop at David and Second. Oscar Hiestand, after his stint as Sheriff, turned to the less frustrating task of harness making. Mr. J. P. Smith, a one-time freighter and rancher, eventually bought the Hotel deWentworth, which was erected on the southeast corner of Center Street. He renamed it the Natrona Hotel. His wife also helped raise funds for the first church. J. P. had homesteaded in the Bessemer Bend country, but moved to Casper to raise his family. Dick and Steve Tobin, a couple of Irishmen, though not directly related to “Red” Tobin, were especially busy these days building a sheep buyers’ market and were quite successful at it. They, too, had entered the Irish Catholic “welfare” business, so aptly described by Fr. Mullin. They were instrumental in bringing even more Irish to the town. Among the colorful Catholic types must be listed one Eugene McCarty who came from Ireland to work with Sullivan’s herd. He moved from herder to camp mover and, by 1900, was Sullivan’s partner. By that time, he was earning a reputation as a shrewd businessman, or a crook, depending on which side of the money you were standing. If the year was bad and he had overbought on the sheep, he might show up late for pick-up and, finding, as he had planned, that his seller had given up and gone home in disgust, McCarty was seen to tear up the contract in a great public display of Irish temper. Following such hi-jinx, he came to be required by many herders to put deposits up front. But, a true Irishman, and a potential actor to boot, Eugene McCarty would always get the best price in town! W. F. Dunn was not one to stand still, either. He saw the potential of the wool market and opened himself a warehouse. From there, he went into real estate, making a good deal of money at it. “He liked nice things,” grandson Frank Schulte told me. And he worked long and hard to get them. While opportunities seemed to be endless in this little town, all were required to work and work hard: from the little boys, who at age seven were expected to milk cows and herd them to the hills and back, to the women who carried water, kept homes, raised children, fed chickens, and did everything by hand (no sewing machines, or dishwashers or clothes washers at this time), to the sheepherders who were out of town and away from their families for months at a time, to the entrepreneurs, who worked long, hard hours to serve the needs of the town, and often lived in the back of their stores. Industriousness, back-breaking labor and, of course, faith were the only tools for survival. And even that was never assured. There was always the fear of illness and not much of anything to be done about it, should it occur. Winter each year could bring disaster. A bad one could wipe out half the town and those affected would have to start all over again. Even fire was a grave concern. The volunteer fire department was organized early. With buildings of tinderdry wood, most everyone expected the whole town would go up in smoke one windy night. A single fire could mean the end of Casper. The sound of the fire bell clanging in the night from the tower of the Town Hall building sent shivers down the spine. But there was no time for panic. The men would run to help the fire department. The women would dress their children and prepare to leave quickly should the need arise. No, it was not a life of ease-even for those who were quite successful. It took great strength and faith to persevere in the Wyoming wilderness. But, they stayed, they worked, and they prayed. Because of that, we are here today. To Give Up Or Go On (1900-1915) [Casper 1987, 12] The turn of the century brought change to Casper, as the lives of its people were affected on personal and private levels. In 1900, Miss Julia Mahoney, sister to Mrs. Pat Sullivan, was married to Dick Tobin. They would have two children, Brian and Mary, before Dick’s death just a few years hence. William and Mary Ann Dunn stood as godparents at Brian’s christening. In town, there was great excitement over the election of the first County Commissioners. J. P. Smith was among them, having received 218 votes. A few in the Bessemer Bend Voting Place may have beat him but, as more votes appeared to have been cast than there were people, that precinct had to be discarded in the official count of the day. These people still believed in “rugged individualism,” occasionally to a fault. On June 12 of that year, Casper saw light, electric ones that is. Mrs. Kimball, the mayor’s wife, turned on the first electric lights for the first time. Two days later. The Wyoming Derrick, now the town newspaper, devoted the entire front page to this great and lasting event. That same year, Casperites said goodbye to their first pastor. Fr. Keating was transferred. The church stood, but St. Anthony’s flock was without a leader for yet another lonely year. During that time, a Reverend George Bryant was called to answer a sick call. Coming up from Cheyenne, Fr. Bryant realized the need and great desire for a priest in Casper. Shortly thereafter, Administrator of the Diocese, the Reverend Hugh Cummiskey, assigned I Bryant to serve as the second pastor of the Church of i Anthony in Casper. His missions outside of Gasp included Douglas, Wheatland, Glendo, Glenrock and Sunrise. The young priest, thus, was kept quite busy. But he was young, energetic and full of ideas. He set about building a rectory right next to the church, and worked on it with his own hands, as well as supervising the work of others. When it was finished, the rectory was considered one of the finest homes in Casper. It was a two story building with a cuppola, and it stood just south of the church. The rooms were spacious with lovely high ceilings and nice furnishings. Rambling porches decked the front. In fact, the house was so beautiful, it was much later purchased by Dave True and his family. At this writing, it stands on the corner of Ash and 16th Streets in Casper Alice Bradshaw, a present member of St. Anthony’s remembers visiting the house as a child. Fr. Bryant housekeeper invited the children into the kitchen at times to visit and have cookies. “We thought it was all very exciting,” Alice said, “though we were never allowed in the parlor.” The chime of the cuckoo clock was always a high point of those visits. She remembers Fr. Bryant only a bit, as being reserved around the children. However, one who always remembered Fr. Bryant fondly was Mickey Burke. Mickey Burke was a hot-[Casper 1987, 13]-blooded Irishman with a penchant for hard work. Never at a loss for words to express his varied opinions, Mickey came to Casper in 1901 at the age of 22. He was one of Pat Sullivan’s herders. Following the scheme of the day, he became a sheepman in his own right in just a short time. Fr. Bryant reached out to Mickey and to many others, bringing them back into the fold of the church. He came just in time, too, to see the first oil boom in this once desolate frontier. In 1902 and 1903, oil was found near Casper, and it was established that the town would grow and grow and grow. 1902 was also the year that Wyoming received a new bishop. The Most Reverend James J. Keane, D.D. was perhaps the first to recognize the true missionary aspect of Wyoming, and under his leadership, many of the small town churches were to benefit. He worked like a missionary, traveling from place to place, offering missions and retreats to the people, some of whom had probably never experienced them before, and certainly had not since their arrival in the great American West. Bishop Keane also saw to the incorporation of Wyoming’s Catholic Churches, meeting their business needs far more effectively than ever before. The Articles of Incorporation in Casper were signed on May 1, 1903, by bishop Keane, Vicar General of the Diocese, Hugh Cummiskey, Fr. G. Bryant, pastor, and two lay members, J. E. Schulte, and John Trevett, Sr. The official name of the corporation was The Church of St. Anthony. By 1904, the sheep business was booming. Pat Sullivan had started the VI Sheep Company near Midwest, with his cousin “Red” to ably run it. A good and trustworthy sheepman, “Red” Tobin would run that ranch some 65 years. Meanwhile, Sullivan and McCarty could focus their attention on the 25 to 30 railroad cars they were forwarding a week to the Fremont Yards to fill, feed or prepare for the packer or feeder buyer. And “Gene” was wheeling and dealing his way to a fortune. In 1905, the Wyoming Wool Growers Association formed to protect the interests of the sheepmen at the State Legislative Meeting. Needless to say people in Casper were optimistic. Marking the period were, among other things, friendly rivalries, these settled by football games and fire hose fights. Rivalry between Casper and Douglas was particularly strong, probably because there wasn’t anyplace else to be rival to. The first football game in Casper predictably carried Irish team members. Steve Tobin and a Murdock McPhearson were among the players and chief organizers. The first high school football game took place a little later on and featured the names of second-generation Irish, names which we have seen before: Eugene Dunn, Pierce Smith, Ralph Schulte and even John Trevett. It was still a pretty small town. Though cars were starting to appear in other parts of the country, they weren’t common in Casper. In fact, many people believed the lack of water and the great distances to be traveled in Wyoming would preclude the use of these new machines. Something far more rugged and trustworthy, like a horse, would surely have to prevail. In 1906, Casperites began to push their town with a new effort - the Casper Booster’s Club Committee formed with Pat Sullivan and Oscar Hiestand serving as Committee members. Meanwhile, Mickey Burke was starting his own sheep [Casper 1987, 14] ranch 25 miles north of Casper. He filed on a homestead and bought up the land around it gradually. He brought his family into town during the winter, and spent many weeks away from them running the ranch. The focus of life was very different then. Building a future for ones children and grandchildren took priority over present situations and temporal pleasures. The Irish Catholics of Casper, as well as others, made sacrifices, sometimes harsh ones, for future rewards. Alice Dodds (to-be Bradshaw) and her parents were among them. Their ranch, the Effell, was originally a cattle ranch, but turned to sheep with the rise in wool. Alice remembers coming to church on Sundays. It took five or six hours to get into town by horse and buggy. It was a long, rough ride, and sometimes the Dodds would miss Mass because of it. But they weren’t the only ones. Joe Burke (son to Mickey) recalls that priests would sometimes come out to ranches to say Mass or administer baptism. In fact, the Burke Ranch became a station, for a while, where the people of the area could go to Mass on occasion. It was probably during these visits that Joe’s father became good friends with Fr. Bryant as they would talk for hours about “the old country” which they missed a great deal at times. Facing these realities, these people had choices to make: to give up or go on. They called upon their faith, rolled up their sleeves and went on, just as they had in the face of all the other trials they had so far encountered. These folks were indeed of sturdy stock, and looking back, we wonder how many of us could have done what they did. Some did not survive, but those who did, stayed and helped one another, and they brought each other back The history, thus, is one of more than faith. It is also one o: love. Christ told us, “Love thy neighbor as thy self.” The Catholic community of Casper lived His words. They continued always to look to the future for hope And they built up the town as well as they could. Through the cycles of Casper’s economy, there is yet a steady optimism and always some sign of growth. On June 22, 1908, the pioneers gathered to lay the cornerstone of the first Natrona County Courthouse. It was located in the center of the street in front of the present-day courthouse. Our friend, Pat Sullivan, was in attendance. The pictures of this event strike one as absurd. This little gathering of men has seated itself in the middle of absolutely nothing to celebrate the construction of a courthouse. They had visions we cannot imagine, their dreams and their faith leading them Meanwhile, the old town hall was being made into a movie theater run by Gay and Faye Trevett. He ran the movie machine and she sold the tickets. Lo, Casper finally had some wholesome entertainment. It was called the Bell Theatre, named for the bell (the old fire bell) that hung in its tower and now looked ridiculously out of place. Tickets for the theatre were a mere 15 cents. Years later, the theatre burned down, but early Casperites have many fond memories of the few years it existed. Despite dire predictions, 1908 was the year Casper saw its first automobile, and wool became the states leading industry. 1909 brought progress in the church. New people were [Casper 1987, 15] coming and the church makeup was less Irish than it once had been. Italians, Scottish and Germans were being assimilated more and more easily, with some of the Irish even toning down the brogues a bit. Some were as pleased to be Americans as they were to be Irish. By 1910, Casper’s population was 2,639. Burlington had purchased 80 acres of land in the extreme northern part of town from W. F. Dunn, Eugene McCarty and Pat Sullivan for $150 an acre. The Dunns had another child, Catherine. She was born in Iowa where Mrs. Dunn was visiting. Later, two more children were born to the Dunns, Leo and Francis, in their home at 148 North Durbin in Casper. At about the same time, John Trevett encouraged his widowed sister, Angelica Tripeny, to come to Wyoming. She was accompanied by her teenage son, John Tripeny, and they decided to stay. Angelica’s granddaughter, Lois, reflects on her grandmother as quite a courageous woman. Having come from St. Regis Falls, N. Y., she surely was shocked by the frontier life in Casper. Nonetheless, she worked as a cook in the Jail House and her son, John, was part of the first graduating class of Natrona County High School. John was to become one of Casper’s outstanding citizens and a great supporter of St. Anthony’s Church and School. After high school, he opened a drugstore, and the rest, they say, is history! On May 3, 1910, the Casper City Fathers purchased the city’s first fire truck at a cost of $4500. Fred Villnave drove it, Oscar Hiestand was his assistant driver (co-pilot I guess we’d call him today) and W. F. Dunn was part of the crew. Things were progressing yet. Not to lose sight of the full flavor of the community, there on the Sand Bar, backed away from all signs of human habitation, were two small tarpaper shacks. They called them “pest houses” and they were used for those who had communicable diseases. Not a particularly Christian concept, these houses were a means of survival for the general populace. Being sent to them must have brought the greatest heartache. One wonders how many mothers shielded their children from doctors who might pronounce them a sentence to the “pest house,” for fear they would never return. No one took care of those sent there, save during a weekly visit from the doctor. One merely got better or died, in the meantime being exposed to others who had something possibly worse. Not far from the Sand Bar, the houses of prostitution had multiplied and “sin” proliferated. Due to the Irish clientele, one of the Houses was even named the Irish World, and was run by a madam by the name of Irish Nell. While one could suppose it just a gimmick, attracting all the non-Catholic Irish in the area, we might also want to realize that we are “sinners” all and that, perhaps, all of this served some purpose. At the least, it provided an impetus for the mothers of Casper’s children to teach them right from wrong. In legitimate business, oil was picking up again. The [Casper 1987, 16] Wyoming Syndicate, which took over Pennsylvania Oil and Gas in 1903, was acquired by the Franco-American Wyoming Oil Company, which laid a six inch pipeline from Salt Creek to Casper and built a refinery at the west end of town. That same year, 1910, Midwest Oil Company was organized in Salt Creek. This company laid another six-inch pipeline to another refinery in Casper. Demand for oil increased year by year after that and, quietly, Casper was transformed from a wool town to an oil city. Oscar Hiestand, being one willing to try anything new, signed on at one of the refineries. The Irish, being more traditional in their approach, were still importing relatives. Casper soon greeted yet another jolly Irishman when a Catholic by the name of Jeremiah Mahoney stepped off the train. He is described by those who knew him as a jaunty, happy-go-lucky sort. Soon, he had stolen the heart of the widowed Julia Tobin. As they were cousins, they had to apply for a special dispensation from the Church for approval to marry. But marry they did, and Jeremiah thereby inherited the Prairie Sheep Company, the business Dick Tobin built and left to his wife upon his death. Julia and Jeremiah had three children of their own, Dorothy, Barry and Martha. Shortly thereafter, an Irishman named William Swanton was having some problems finding work in New York City. In frustration, he figured the best way to go was West. So, he took all his money and went to the train station. He told the man he wanted to go as far west as the money would take him. The ticket he got back said Rawlins, Wyoming. Swanton got as far as the depot in Casper. There, he bumped into a cheerful Jeremiah Mahoney leaning casually against a post out front. They got to talking ‘bout the “old country,” no doubt, and Swanton had himself a job. He stayed and became another of Casper’s leading citizens, and a strong supporter of St. Anthony’s Church. The church, meanwhile, was taking a part in educating its children and in trying to make them good citizens of the Church as well as of the general community. Fr. Bryant began instructions for altar boys. Brian Tobin and Francis Dunn were among his first victims, er [sic], students. Brian remembers him as being very tough on the boys so that they learned to be most reverent most quickly and soon were helping Fr. Bryant in his celebration of the Mass. In 1911, the Hospital officially opened and Casper could finally offer some help and hope to the ill. The priests of St. Anthony’s have ever since been a welcome presence there, offering prayers for the sick and injured of the city and giving them guidance in the hours of illness or death. Also that year, the Knights of Columbus came into being in Casper. Mr. Fred Villnave, of the Fire Department, was among the original founders. In 1912, the Most Reverend Patrick McGovern became the fourth Bishop of the diocese. Bishop McGovern would lead the diocese in years to come, and would recruit many an Irish priest to guide the parishes of Wyoming. Casper especially benefited from his paternalism in this area as Irish priests were what they knew best. Back in town, Fr. Bryant was making plans. The little church on Center Street seemed to be shrinking as his parishioners filled it to overflowing. With Casper’s growth came a growth in St. Anthony’s, a growth that could hardly be contained in a church built for a temporary town at the end of the railroad line. These were citizens of a town fast becoming a city, citizens who wanted to practice and live their faith. So, Fr. Bryant bought two lots on the corner of Sussex (Seventh) and Wolcott for $1600 with the hopes of building a bigger and better church for the good people of St. Anthony’s parish. But Fr. Bryant was never to see the church for which he paved the way. He resigned as pastor of St. Anthony’s in August 1915, and was succeeded by the Reverend James McGee. Fr. McGee was a young priest and not much is known of him. Alice Dodds met him a few times and recalled that he seemed much less reserved than Fr. Bryant had been. He was friendly, she said, and he was easy for a child to talk to. “But, he was here just a short time.” On November 27, Fr. McGee died at the tender age of 27. At this, a Father Isidore, O. M. C. of Douglas was named to act in “locum tenens,” serving Casper until December 18, 1915, when Father John Mullin arrived in Casper. World War I (1916-1918) [Casper 1987, 18] Those who can, recall the first Church of St. Anthony in Casper as a lovely little place teeming with Catholics (it was built to hold maybe 100 people). The services, they say, were generally not too long, and everyone looked forward to socializing afterwards. At Christmas, little Alice Dodds would arrive with all the other children, her arms loaded with gifts and her eyes lit up by the Christmas season. Everyone would exchange gifts after Mass and it was a very happy time; a warm and fulfilling time, when everyone knew everyone else. But, Fr. Mullin was a man of the future, and he could see, as Fr. Bryant before him had, that this parish had outgrown its church. Fr. John H. Mullin is remembered as being a heavy-set, plump little man, a jolly sort too. He was born in Pittston, Pennsylvania on October 22, 1888, the third child of ten. He matriculated at the University of Notre Dame, receiving his A. B. degree in 1911. That same year, in October, he set sail from New York to Naples to pursue studies at the American College in Rome, and on February 27, 1915, Fr. Mullin was ordained at the Cathedral of St. John Lateran in Rome, by the patriarch of Constantinople. He was incardinated in the Diocese of Cheyenne. In April, he received his first assignment, this from Bishop McGovern to the parish of Newcastle. On December 18, 1915, he came to Casper to take charge as pastor of St. Anthony’s. What Fr. Mullin faced was a town that had gone too far, too fast, and people who had fought through so many hard times that they seized on the opportunities of good times with a vengeance. Casper’s red light district must have appalled the good Father, and he was much saddened at the gambling and oil speculation that went on. It is said that, when a gusher came in, people would gather on Second Street to buy and sell stocks, cash in hand, leaving their businesses, professions and everything else just to “get in on the deal.” In fact, things were so bad, Berne Hopkins of Reed Investment Company finally established headquarters in the Midwest Hotel during this period in an attempt to quell the brewing hostilities in the streets. Claims makers were solving their differences there by means of fist-fights and weapons. Fr. Mullin thought a sizeable Catholic church to accommodate the needs of the community and offer some spiritual guidance would considerably help the situation. So, he set about it in earnest. He sold the first church lot to Mickey Burke and Jeremiah Mahoney as they had planned to use it for a Knights of Columbus building. Somehow, that deal fell through, however, and they returned the money raised for the purchase. Mickey and Jeremiah did buy the building, though, for the sum of $11,000, and moved it to the corner of Wolcott and Sussex Streets (where St. Anthony’s school sits It was planned that the church building would be used for services while the new church was being built, but where a series of emergencies precluded that, and Mass would not be heard again in a church for some months to come. The rectory and the homes of parishioners served in the interim as interim. Fr. Mullin proceeded, then, to make plans for the new St. Anthony’s. He purchased the present church site from Mr. Charles Warner for the sum of $4750. His Building Committee consisted of Patrick 0’Connor, A. A. Schulte radiate Angus McPherson, M. J. Burke, John Daly, J. L. Bigenheimer and A. E. Biglin. The Committee accepted the plans of Garbutt and Wiedner. But a World War, and a number of other obstacles were to keep St. Anthony’s parishioners out of their new church for years to come. Casper was now facing serious problems. This once tiny, ramshackle frontier town was becoming a mecca, another promised land of wealth, opportunity and adventure. The second Oil Boom hit in 1917. And oil quickly rose to become second only to agriculture on the Wyoming economic scene. Casper was literally right in the middle of it. She hosted two of the five refineries in the state. On January 9, 1917, Casper became a city, and more people moved to the bursting community. Among them was Pat Sweeney, a worker for Burlington Railroad. In 1916, he had been transferred from Nebraska , and would now make Casper his home. Soon he encouraged his brothers and his brothers and family to join him as well. In 1917, however, Casper was not exactly a “family” place. Housing was scarce, conditions were crowded, and morals were hitting new lows as the young Fr. Mullin tried to keep his flock in some sort of order. For those who remember him, recall that he was quite a wonderful speaker, though his homilies, not surprisingly were of the “fire and brimstone” variety. The children were frightened by him, though not so much so that they wouldn’t hide in the bushes and can out “father watermullin” as he passed. And, on occasion he was heard to chuckle loudly at their little pranks. He had a great Irish laugh, they say. Fr. Mullin made his rounds and was known to visit and have dinner with parishioners, and he was known as quite a story-teller, too. Many, many people came to like Fr. Mullin, and he did many good things for the people of Casper. When he saw a problem, Fr. Mullin tried to address it as well as he could. Citing the situation with the children the city, Fr. Mullin decided they needed some guidance. Here their parents were out buying and selling stocks, and fighting in the streets over the same, and if youngsters wandered too far, they might well find themselves as prostitutes and pimps. Fr. Mullin formed and organized the Young Men’s Social Club to provide alternatives for the young men of the community. The Club’s stated purpose was to provide [Casper 1987, 19] “supervised recreational activities in a growing community where many youth had no family restraint.” The Clubhouse was built on one of the parish lots and was named “The Mullin Club” after its founder and donor. As time went on, The Mullin Club became an institution in Casper, serving as host to social activities of the Altar and Rosary Society, and acting as clubhouse for the Catholic Girl’s Club. The Altar and Rosary Society eventually radiated its welfare activities from The Mullin Club as well. Also to note here, the situation with the children put a germ of an idea into Fr. Mullin’s head - that someday this town would need a school to teach its children proper moral values - it would be a Catholic School. By this time, the great Irish Republican leader, Fat Sullivan, had been defeated in the Wyoming Legislature by another Irishman, Patrick O’Connor, a Democrat. On the national level, Congress was considering entering “the War to end all Wars.” On April 6, 1917, war was declared against Germany. In Casper, ex-Governor Brooks read the message of war that very evening to a crowd of some 2,000 people at the Henning Hotel. Gripped with the uncertainty and fear that a declaration of war brings upon a people, Casperites joined in faith to sing “America” and the National Anthem, and surely offered a prayer for the hard times ahead. The war touched Casper in many ways. Alice Dodds accompanied her cousins as they saw boyfriends off at the train depot. There were many tearful goodbyes and, for some, they were final goodbyes, as war always takes lives. Enlistments were proportionately high in Casper. For those who remained at home, the war was yet realized. A. J. Mokler considered the conviction of many Casperites that there were spies in the city: “The Standard and Midwest Refineries had many extra guards at their plants. Guards were stationed at Pathfinder dam, railroad bridges were guarded and every precaution was taken against German spies, there being every reason to believe that quite a number were located in and around Casper.” German citizens of the city were suspect, and those of German background, like Oscar Hiestand, kept low-profiles and withdrew from many of the activities they had heretofore enjoyed and been welcomed into. Surely, it was a most difficult time for them as well. Even The Mullin Club was affected by the war as Fr. Mullin offered its use to the Presbyterian minister who headed up the local Red Cross organization. Trainloads of gasoline were shipped every hour from L the Midwest and Standard Refineries in Casper for the war S effort. The people accepted rationing as a way of life. Sugar, flour, and gasoline were rationed commodities, and food stamps were put into use. Casperites learned to use honey as a sweetener because bees were easy to come by, and ranchers did their haying with horses. Many planted victory gardens to supply their own vegetables. It was a busy time, and a sad and frightening time, too. As if things were not bad enough, the winter of 1917 made them worse. The war news was bad and young boys were being shipped across the ocean by the thousands. A major epidemic, apparently caused by crowded conditions in the Army, broke out. Doctors did not know how to cope with it. It hit the lungs quickly and many people died suddenly from it. Fear was everywhere, so much so that people were afraid to leave their homes. Ethel Sanford in her book, As I Remember, noted, “We lost so many of our neighbors and friends, and we wondered who would be next. It quieted down in Spring, but came back again worse than ever the next winter.” Statistics showed that influenza was taking more lives than the war. In Casper, Fr. Mullin cancelled all church services because of it, and funerals were held only at the graveside. When it became necessary to purchase supplies, only limited numbers of people were let into the stores and all wore masks. Alice Dodds contracted the flu at St. Agnes Boarding School in Alliance, Nebraska. Her parents came to take her home, as the nuns, too, had the flu, and could not care for [Casper 1987, 20] her or the other girls. She remembered sitting in the train depot, everyone in masks, and being very frightened by it all. Alice was not unlike many of the other children who lived on the ranches around Casper. Sometimes, their parents would bring tutors out to teach the children, but eventually, it was realized that a proper education could only be obtained by sending the children off to boarding schools or to board them with one of the families in town. Separation was very hard on the children and, no doubt, on their parents. But immigrants put a premium on education as one of the great things America had to offer and, if required, sacrifices were made to obtain it. The winter of 1917 was recounted in a story published in The Casper Star-Tribune on Christmas Eve, 1967. The story was written by Tim Mahoney, a beloved member of the Knights of Columbus for many, many years, and a storyteller in the Irish tradition. Mahoney apparently came in from the sheep range that Christmas Eve, his first in Casper, to celebrate in the bars, and find a bit of Christmas cheer. He witnessed a bar fight, and much merriment, and spied an old adversary from his Colorado days. But his tale was woven with a sadness and isolation so many must have felt that year. For even with Casper’s growth, so many of her citizens had left their homelands, their families and all that they had known, to come to this new land which, in 1917, offered them doubt and fear, as well as hope and prosperity. It was a very trying time, a time when the presence of God was perhaps the only comfort around. When 1918 came, sheep were still among Wyoming’s most valued commodities, though oil was gaining a quick lead. Nonetheless, that year’s tax roles show 343,233 sheep valued at $3,291,925 in Natrona County alone. Sheep were still important to Casper’s economy. Casper, meantime, though a city, was hardly a modern one. Her walkways were mere boardwalks, and there were no streets. She was still a “wild and swinging” town, and when Ethel Sanford came [Casper 1987, 20] through here with her husband, she was told by the hotel clerk not to venture out of the room without him (Mr. Sanford). This was the year that one Mac Redington arrived in Casper from Galesburg, Illinois. And, about this time, Ann Dilso (to be Blower) was born to her Italian immigrant parents, Joe Dilso and the former Anna Reto. Mr. Dilso worked at the Standard Oil Refinery. On June 25, 1918, “Red” Tobin and his young wife Nora (she was 14 years his junior) celebrated their first wedding anniversary. They had been married, of course, by Father Mullin at St. Anthony’s. Their children would be five, John (Jack), Bill, Jim, Theresa and Mary. Nora was of the Donegan family, and her two sisters were Mrs. Con Shea and Mrs. (Mary) Rochelle. The Donegan girls came from County Cork, Ireland. A man named George Sullivan brought his family to Casper in 1918 from Massachusetts. Their son had taken ill and doctors advised a drier climate for him. As Mrs. Elizabeth Sullivan had a sister already in Wyoming (Mrs. Charles Wheeler), it was decided the family would move as soon as the child was well enough to travel. George opened a blacksmith’s shop, and two of his daughters, Margaret and Elizabeth, still live in Casper. George gave heavily to the church, but even his family was not aware of that fact until after his death. The sisters have fond memories of St. Anthony’s Church, recalling the dinners and bazaars as high points of a young girl’s social life. 1918 saw the Armistice declared with great celebration in Casper. “The town went wild,” according to one report, “ with dancing in the streets and all the stores closed down.” Ethel Sanford recalled Armistice Day as she was in town enroute to another place, and she was in dire need of supplies. At that time, the Dodds owned the Pines Hotel, where Sanford was staying. Mrs. Dodds noted Mrs. Sanford’s predicament, and called the manager of the Golden Rule Store (that was the actual name). He came down and opened up the store so that Mrs. Sanford could get what she needed. A small Christian kindness in the midst of great confusion, but one that Mrs. Sanford remembered all her life. With the war over and the flu quieted down, things could return to some sort of normalcy, and people again began to think of the future. In the interim, Casper had acquired a few more Mahoney s. It seems back some years, John Mahoney’s brother, James, had gotten himself into a scrape in Ireland, and had come to America to let things cool down back home. He eventually returned and told such stories of the West that all four of his daughters dreamed of it. One after another, they came. Mary arrived in 1908. Met by her sister in New York, young Mary Mahoney traveled to Chicago where she entered nurse’s training, a skill she would need in the “wild west.” Soon after, she married one Maurice Kelliher and the two came to Casper to make their life together. Mary was niece to John Mahoney of Rawlins. Mr. Kelliher was yet another colorful Irishman who had served in World War I. He started out as a sheepherder, but, according to his daughter, that didn’t work out. His fondest memory of that period was of an old sheepdog named Boots. Maurice eventually joined the Fire Department, serving with Fred Villnave. He worked his way up and for many years was the fire Chief in Casper. His predecessor in that post was, of course, Villnave himself. He lived above the fire station for years, and Mary Louise Reed (to be Baker) always loved to visit the Villnave home. It provided the rare opportunity to slide down the fire pole! Mary Louise grew up with the Villnave children and counted Dorothy Mahoney as one of her best friends, as well. [Casper 1987, 21] Mary Louise was not Catholic as a child. Because her Mom owned a florist shop in town, she was on her own during the busy holiday season. Julia Mahoney took this situation in hand, however, always opening her home to the Reed children for holiday meals. “Mrs. Mahoney had a quick Irish wit and Jeremiah was always happy,” she remembers, and it was “great fun” to go to Dorothy’s house at Christmas and Easter. “It was always a happy, lively, family sort of place.”1 A Dream Realized (1919-1920) [Casper 1987, 22] On May 2, 1919, the St. Anthony’s Building Committee let a contract to Donahoe Construction of St. Paul, Minnesota, to build the church. The $58,657 contract called for completion on December 20, 1919. According to Fr. Mullin’s history, on September 7, 1919, the Right Reverend Patrick A. McGovern came to Casper to perform the Cornerstone Ceremony, and the Reverend William O’Ryan of Denver preached the sermon. It was a joyous time for the church, but the cycle came round again and the summer and winter of 1919-1920 spelled disaster for many of its parishioners. A severe drought hit central Wyoming that summer and was followed by an early October snow. Then, in April, 1920, a single bad storm resulted in the loss of about one-third of all the stock in the state of Wyoming. On top of all this, sheep prices fell. In a week, wool dropped from 80 cents to 25 cents and sheep from $18 to $10 and later down to $6. Lambs that once sold from $8 to $12 were now worth only $3. Casper’s citizens saw their dreams and their futures dissipate before their very eyes. Fr. Mullin must have been busy consoling his congregation and somehow pointing out to them light in the ever-increasing darkness. Many found their future in oil, having lost their sheep. Casper’s complexion was changing. Her population in 1920 was 11,447. And, among the new arrivals was Rita Kelliher, born at home as was customary, to the Kelliher family. Rita, of course, was duly baptized a short time later at St. Anthony’s. As more and more people came to Casper, the housing became critical. Many citizens opened their homes to boarders and renters. Among them was a Catholic named Kate Mechaley, who came to be known for her kindnesses to the newcomers of the town and for the great meals she fed them. The housing shortage was so acute, in fact, that Ohio Oil, for one, fixed up the basement of their building for renters. Meanwhile, the Catholic population was growing accordingly, so that it was with the greatest relief and excitement that the beautiful new Church of St. Anthony, dream of Fr. Mullin for so many years, was finally dedicated. The day came on August 15, 1920, and everyone I interviewed remembers it as being beastly hot. But that was not a detriment to the long-awaited glory of this day. One thousand people turned out for the service. There the building stood, having cost some $150,000, towering above the people and the city which had so lovingly spawned her. The church itself was built of brick and limestone topped with a mottled tile roof. A graceful campanile became her structure. Altars of Carrara marble had not yet arrived but were on order from Italy. The interior woodwork was all of oak and the windows are Italian stained glass. The windows in the main part of the church depict The Annunciation, the Visitation, The Nativity, The Presentation, The Finding in the Temple, The Agony in the Garden, The Crucifixion, The Resurrection, The Ascension and The Descent of the Holy Spirit. Bishop McGovern, in his History of the Diocese recorded the gifts which added the special touches to make this church a true statement of love and religious faith. So many of the names are familiar, they are here, too, recorded for posterity. The main altar was the gift of the Altar and Rosary Society; The Blessed Virgin’s Altar is the gift of John and Peter Tobin; The Altar of St. Joseph is the gift of Patrick Sullivan; the Shrines of St. Anthony and St. Patrick are the gifts of M. W. Purcell and Wm. Swanton; the Altar rail is the gift of the Schulte family. The children of the parish donated the magnificent sanctuary lamp; Mr. and Mrs. W. E. Adams gave the onyx candlesticks; Mr. and Mrs. Con Shea gave the brass candle set; The sanctuary windows were the gifts of Mr. and Mrs. Jeremiah Mahoney; Mrs. M. Slizeski, P. E. de Caplane, William Kyne and A. E. Biglin gave the windows of the transept, the four Evangelists; the rose window of the church is the gift of the choir; The windows on the main part of the church were the gifts of Mr. and Mrs. J. Foley, Mr. and Mrs. Angus McPherson, Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Burke, Mr. and Mrs. M. J. Burke, Miss Elizabeth McDonald, Mrs. John Daly, Mr. and Mrs. M. W. Purcell and Fred and Thomas Villnave; The sacristy windows were donated by J. W. Bingenheimer, John J. Tobin, Jean Salabert, Mis§ Margaret Barrett, Miss Ella McGuire, Mrs. C. A. Holloran and Eugene McCarty. The five windows in the chapel were the gifts of E. A. Slater and Fr. Mullin’s family. The Church Bell was donated by the Knights of Columbus; The Stations of the Cross by Mrs. Patrick Sullivan; the Pulpit by Mr. and Mrs. Patrick J. O’Connor; Confessionals by the Ancient Order of Hibernians and Richard “Red” Tobin; the Baptismal Font by Joseph Wimsatt, the Vestment Case from W. F. Henning, the Monstrance by John Heery of Chicago, and the Chalice by Mrs. A. F, Edmonds. The day began with the Blessing of the Walls and Chanting of the Litany of the Saints. The clergy won vestments made in Paris, these of white satin with hand embroidery. Of course, Bishop McGovern celebrated the Mass with Fr. Mullin assisting. The choir sang Leonard’s Mass in F, directed by Mrs. George Smith, and accompanied by Mrs. Edna Smith on the organ, and Miss Verna Burnett and Lynn Hewlett on violins. Soloists were Mrs. J. H. Roush, Miss Eileen Sullivan, Mrs. DOB Lobdell, Theodore Day and Mr. Conly. The children remember the ceremonies as being long but surely those adults in attendance, especially those who had worked so hard to have their church, considered it time well spent. For now, Casper’s Catholic Community could [Casper 1987, 23] visit the House of the Lord. They could spend time with Him in comfort and in surroundings dedicated to His glory. And they could increase their numbers. The following Saturday, a picnic and dance were scheduled by way of celebration, as Casper Catholics have always enjoyed their celebrations. But, as is Wyoming’s way, the weather did not cooperate and many were transported back to The Mullin Club by horse and buggy, through the mud and rain. Undaunted, they danced and celebrated this joyous time. Times Of Trial (1921-1926) [Casper 1987, 29] The Roaring Twenties dawned in Casper, as the rest of the country, with flappers and the Charleston and general high living, which was no stranger to this town anyway. Speculation here had been going for quite some time. But, this was not to be a decade of ease for Casperites, as a number of things went against them, foreshadowing what would become of the rest of the nation. First, an attitude problem emerged. Apparently, as more people came, and came to feel more secure, the Christian ideal of working together, helping each other and loving your neighbors began to seem less imperative. The Ku Klux Klan emerged. In Wyoming, this group directed itself, not so much against racial or ethnic groups, as against Roman Catholics. With Catholic churches springing up in many frontier towns, and Catholics assuming positions of leadership, KKK members saw a threat that, somehow, these Catholics would take over, undermining their businesses and livelihoods and spreading their influence into education and other areas. So, even in Casper, they started to organize against what they saw as a Catholic menace. They donned their white hoods and began demonstrations. A young Joe Burke witnessed burning crosses up on C-Hill (where Casper College stands now), and there was at least one confrontation, this recalled by church member Beatrice Bennett. Apparently, the KKK was parading outside St. Anthony’s Church one day and Fr. Mullin got angry. The man was not very big, and he was alone, or as alone as a priest standing up for his faith ever can be alone, and he confronted the group, telling them to leave. The leader spoke in a threatening tone from beneath the safety of his disguise, “If you weren’t wearing that collar,” he shouted, proceeding to tell Fr. Mullin what he might do. Fr. Mullin pointed to his collar and said, “Don’t let this stop you!” Then he reached up and pulled off the hood of his challenger. Thus exposed, the local businessman that he was, was duly boycotted by all Catholics in the city, and Fr. Mullin was quite the hero of the day. It was not the end, however, and the KKK continued their cross burnings and parades, though not quite so close to the church. The Knights of Columbus became true knights (in the figurative shining armor) as they gathered together to stop this ugly action before it turned to violence. Perhaps taking their cue from Fr. Mullin, Mickey Burke, Jerry Mahoney, Mike Purcell, Charlie Cullen and Pete Tobin got together as Joe Burke remembers it. They hired a man named O’Donnell from Chicago. They met with him and they paid him some money. Mr. O’Donnell proceeded to join the KKK in Casper, thereby obtaining members’ names and the names of their businesses. Then he quietly went back to Chicago, and printed up a little newspaper publicizing these names and businesses for all to see. The newspaper was distributed throughout Casper and the KKK never gained strength in the city again. A trying, tense time for Catholics, but handled in a Christian way, without violence. Meanwhile, life went on apace, the Lord working sometimes in ways which seem quite strange to us. In 1921, for example, young John Tripeny must have been devastated when his store burned down. Sifting through the debris, he must have felt he had lost everything which he had worked so hard to achieve. But, he decided the thing to do would be to have a Fire Sale, and maybe start again. And start again, he did, as Mae Redington walked into the Fire Sale in search of a bargain-she found one-John! They were married at St. Anthony’s Church on June 10, 1925, and in years to come would bless Casper with three more citizens, two boys and a girl. They lived at 1125 S. Wolcott, several blocks from St. Anthony’s School, where their children were educated. In another part of town, Anne Dilso (to be Blower) was also growing up. Anne remembers there were only a few Italian families in Casper in those days. “Most were Irish,” she said. But among the Italians, were Carlo and Felice Colibraro who had three children. Eventually, all three entered religious life. Today, Fr. Daniel Colibraro is pastor of Our Lady of Fatima Church in Casper, Fr. Philip Colibraro is pastor of St. James Catholic Church in Douglas, and Sr. Mary Carlo Colibraro works at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Denver. Anne also remembers the Irish focus of the church in its early years. As the Italian contingent was so small, she said those families were merely assimilated into the group. She did liken to add, however, that Italian heritage was certainly present at many of the dinners at the Old Mullin Club. “I, personally, must have cooked tons of spaghetti,” she laughed. And Anne certainly never let the “Irish” bent keep her away from the Church of God. A very devout Catholic, she has always given much of her time and energy to the work of the Lord. But, this aside, back in the 1920s, Anne was just a young girl growing up in Casper. Children were becoming more plentiful as the population grew. The Trevetts had a daughter, Ruth, who was a friend of the young Mary Lou Reed and of Dorothy Mahoney. Mary Lou recalls the Trevett home as a joyful one and always fun to visit, as was the Mahoney household where, you will recall, she partook of many a holiday meal. A Catholic sheepman named Jack Sullivan and his wife were also adding to the Census rolls, producing nine little Sullivans, among them a set of twin boys. The little red-haired Sullivan twins would one day grow to become the pride of Casper’s Catholic community, entering the priesthood on the same day, pledging both to serve the Lord and, as happened, Wyoming’s people, for many, many years [Casper 1987, 30] People, each with a story to tell, were still moving to Casper as well. The tale of Elizabeth Harte Doherty is quite similar to that of Mary Mahoney Kelliher who arrived in Casper but a few years before her. As a child in County Longford, Ireland, “Lizzie” was mesmerized by letters from her cousins who had come to America. At sixteen, she crossed the ocean alone to see for herself. She took up nurses’ training at Bellevue Hospital, then served as a governess for a wealthy family in the east for seven years. During the first World War, she met a young Irishman, James Doherty, who was serving in the Army. He had come to America from County Donegal, had worked in the mines in Montana, and was now enroute to France. The romance blossomed nonetheless, and after completing his tour of duty, and accepting a job with Standard Oil in the “boomtown” of Casper, Doherty felt secure enough to wed the lovely Longford lassie. Following a Greenwich Village wedding, the couple came to Casper in 1922 where Lizzie experienced culture shock. This was not the America of her dreams and this was not the America she had seen through the eyes of her rich New York employers. This was a dirty, rough, unkempt America. But, calling upon her faith and pure Irish stubborness, she stuck with it and, in time, she learned to love the west. She bore five children, four girls and one boy, Mary Elizabeth, Brigid, Patricia, Cecilia, and Dan. Meanwhile, Casper faced its own kind of culture shock: Prohibition. In 1919, Alice Dodds had sat near the kitchen one evening, listening as her father and the others who worked the Effell, discussed in earnest how to vote on Prohibition. Voting was an important concern to the ranchers and the Effell was a voting precinct, a fact of which Mr. Dodds was quite proud. Relief shifts were always arranged so that each worker could ride in to the precinct to vote. Prohibition, of course, passed, and its enforcement, in 1924, sparked Congressional Debate on the National Origins Act calling for restrictions on immigration. The argument ran that Prohibition, the 18th Amendment to the Constitution, was difficult for many immigrants to understand, as many drank wine with meals and alcohol was part of nearly every celebration. It was, therefore, allowed that in certain instances, persons could make and store their own wine for private use. Surprisingly, given the populace of the state, Wyoming delegates stayed out of this potentially vociferous debate. Perhaps it was because the immigration to Wyoming was slowing and many of those coming in now were already Americans. An era had gradually passed and the Irish were becoming a part of the community, rather than a guiding force. During Prohibition, those who wanted to drink increasingly made their own, and, once made, it was quite tempting to sell it. Officials often looked the other way, and, if caught, westerners were quite creative with their excuses. Mash, for example, was cited in the courtroom as a wonderful feed for chickens and alcohol was also suddenly the best “medicine” for every kind of illness. Another claimed he used it for snake bites, at which the Sheriff pointed out there simply were not enough snakes in the whole country to use up the booze this gentleman had produced. Natrona County proved no exception to the rule. The Annals of Wyoming record one of our own was arrested for bootlegging, all the while proclaiming he was merely making “sacrificial wine.” Whereupon, the judge looked down and asked, “600 gallons of sacrificial wine?” The bootlegger replied, “Well, I ship it to Rock Springs, Cheyenne and Sheridan.” The judge with a wry humor, fined the wine-maker $100 and confiscated the sacrificial wine-making still. In Casper, Alice Dodds recalled many prominent families made and sold alcohol. The product was much more dangerous than commercially prepared alcohol and people occasionally died from drinking it. Thus, it was generally from this angle that the subject was broached from the pulpit. Nevertheless, bootlegging went on in this town and county long after Prohibition was repealed. On September 27, 1923, Casper suffered one of the worst disasters in its history. A flood at Cole Creek 14 miles east of town damaged the bridge there. As Train ^30 of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy line, left Casper on its way to Denver, its passengers and crew were unaware of the problem. At Cole Creek that night, the train and the 70 people aboard it plunged into the cold waters. Thirty died, and Casper was yet again reminded harshly of the temporal nature of this life. The population was rapidly rising by 1923, but tough times lay ahead, and within the next few years, more than half of Casper’s population could move away for want of livelihood. Nevertheless, Casper would forge ahead in other ways. The church was still a focal point of social activity. Those who remember these days, remember most fondly the grand bazaars and dinners most often held at the Old Mullin Club. Catherine Dean (to be Barrett) recalled, “The bazaars were something to see. There were many, many tables, all sorts of things going on. My mother (Anna Burke Dean, sister to Mickey Burke) used to get up at dawn to finish her baking on bazaar day, and she wouldn’t get home until late, late that night.” Catherine, it is interesting to note, grew up in the vacated Trevett home, which is now the America Theatre. She remembers being told how the sideboard where her mother dried the dishes, had once been used as an altar. As she grew older, she helped her mom with Altar and Rosary Society projects. At dinners, each lady was responsible for her own table, providing the linens, the table service and waiting on it. Anne Dilso was enamored of the early processions. Before the school opened, all the Catholic children [Casper 1987, 31] participated on Holy Thursday. The girls in pretty white dresses; four boys carried a canopy as the priests walked beneath it to the church. “It was all very thrilling for the children,” she said. During these years a new family had come to town as well. James and Catherine Sweeney arrived in Casper in 1923 with their two daughters, Mary and Frances. They came from Fort Worth, Texas, where James had worked with his brother, Myles, since 1919. Irish immigrants from County Donegal, only young Frances could claim to be native American. Two other Sweeney brothers, Patrick and Con, were already in Casper to greet them. Eventually, the brothers opened a family grocery store on Midwest Avenue, and Catherine became an active member of St. Anthony’s Altar and Rosary Society. When James Sweeney died some years later, Catherine married Patrick. Catherine and Patrick died on the same month and day, September 3rd, she in 1974, he in 1983. In the Fall of 1925, a mission was given in Casper by two priests of the Congregation of the Holy Cross, Frs. Boyle and Molloy. One result was an active Holy Name Society, formally organized in January 1926 by Rev. Durkin, O. P., of Denver. Officers included M. J. Burke, president; J. P. Golden, vice-president; J. A. Gaisler, secretary; W. A. Reipel, treasurer and D. P. Cullen, Wm. Cronin, A. L. LaClair and H. J. Clare, consultors. Meanwhile, Bishop McGovern and Fr. Mullin were making plans. The Bishop, seeing that Wyoming was wide open and would eventually attract many settlers, began a campaign to bring priests into the area, many of them straight from Ireland. Thus, in the Fall of 1926, arrived two young priests to serve as assistants to Fr. Mullin. Fr. Moreton was designated to look after the growing oilfield mission, saying weekly Mass, every Sunday in Midwest. Up to this time, Catholics in the oilfields were ministered by the Franciscan Fathers of Douglas, who were able to say Mass there but once a month. In April of 1927, however, Fr. Moreton was transferred to Rawlins and Fr. Walter Nicholson came to take his place. Fr. Mullin’s other assistant was to become one of the most important men in Casper’s Catholic history. He was [Casper 1987, 32] the newly-ordained Father Thomas O’Reilly. He was just 26 at the time. Folks remember him and Fr. Nicholson as being “so green (Irish green) that you couldn’t understand a word they said.” But, they were welcomed with open arms by the Irish community. The young Fr. O’Reilly is remembered as being a big man, though pictures show him not much taller than Fr. Mullin, who is remembered as being short. Fr. O’Reilly was strong physically, however, and those who, as children, remember his early days in Casper, best recall how they would cajole him into playing a game of kickball, and would stand in awe, as the ball soared high in the air out of the playground and clear across the street. Fr. O’Reilly’s athletic prowess, however, never surpassed his piety, and for this he came to be perhaps the most loved and respected man in the Casper community. To Teach The Children (1927-1936) [Casper 1987, 34] With a little help those days, Fr. Mullin was finally able to start pushing the plans he had been making for Casper. Development of a school became a top priority. We have seen Fr. Mullin’s concern for the youth of the city and his feeling that they were not being blessed with the benefits of a truly Christian upbringing. Thus, he dove into this particular project with great zeal. And the parishioners, concerned about the influences surrounding their children, joined him. Teams and Captains were formed in a formal fund-raising campaign. Leon C. Goodrich was chosen as the architect. Lot 5 Block 38 was purchased from Julia Mueller for $5500 and the home thereon became the temporary residence of the parish clergy. On May 7, 1927, construction bids were opened and awarded to Carson & Schultz for building at $35,580; J. Donohoe Plumbing for plumbing for $7,384; E. G. Erickson and Son for painting and decorating for $1,289.95; with the additions and plan changes coming to $1,670.50. Thus, the building when finished and completely furnished, came to approximately $45,000. Wasting not a moment, groundbreaking came on May 11, 1927. In a very uncharacteristic move, perhaps indicating their desire to get the building built, the Catholics of Casper held no ceremony or celebration to mark the groundbreaking or laying of the cornerstone. Meanwhile, Fr. Mullin was busy rounding up nuns to teach in the school. He had purchased a residence at 634 S. Durbin, a six-room, two-story house which sat on the corner of what is now 7th and Durbin. It cost $12,000 and served as a modest convent for the sisters. Each felt most fortunate to have a room with hot and cold running water. The quarters were certainly cramped, but the nuns never complained or sought to better their conditions. They ran the school, with God’s guidance, and had faith always that He would provide for their needs. These exceptional women were the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, come from Iowa to minister the third parochial school in Wyoming. The first year’s faculty included six sisters, with two others to arrive in October.2 According to the Annals of St. Anthony’s School, the nuns looked upon their new assignment with great [Casper 1987, 35] anticipation, “for there was a verve, a charm to that beginning year that was peculiarly its own - a spirit of adventure pervaded even the most ordinary happenings, and cast upon them almost the warm glow of romance.” Fittingly enough, the Superior, Sister Mary Leandre, was the first to arrive and blaze the trail. Sister Mary Camille was her companion. They reached Casper Augus |