Otis Biggs
Otis Biggs Sr born June 1888, died November 1945, aged 57
Married Hazel Reedy, born November 1884, died May 1951, aged 66
Otis Biggs Jr. born December 1915, died December 1915, aged 3 days
Wilma Billie Biggs, born January 1912, died November 1939, aged 27
Robert Macy’s book Few Clothes and Many Horses:
“Late one Saturday afternoon in September (the year was 1919) a herd of rather “gant” saddle horses were corralled in the Wagon Hammer lot. I did not recognize the four riders, but the grapevine soon passed the word along that they were form Powder River and these were the Weston Harvey horses. When the evening of that day came, I was down at the pool hall with some of the others of the “gang I ran around with.” Spending time at the pool hall in Moorcroft then did not necessarily have a stigma attached to it. This was our meeting place. Otis Biggs, one of the town’s finest gentlemen, owned the place which was a combined soda fountain, game room and barbershop.
As the evening progressed somewhat a tall cowboy with about a week’s growth of beard came in to the barbershop area. We did not know him and it was obvious as he sat down in the barber c hair that he had been drinking. The barber at this chair was Truman Vesser. As most barbers do, True struck up a conversation wit the stranger who said he had brought a string of horses into town. When True inquired about the horses, the tall rider who was flushed a little with liquor said, “I’ve got 25 dollars that says there’s a horse up in that lot that nobody in this two-bit town can ride.” Mr. Biggs was the other barber, and by way of challenge he said, “I’ll take that bet. I have a boy right here in my chair that can ride the horse.”
Mr. Biggs was shaving Bert Carter who was then quite well known in the area as a bronc rider. The money was “put up” over in the saloon. During the evening it developed that the name of the outlaw Powder River horse was Hiram, and that Speck McKee was going to ride the horse instead of Bert Carter.
Even in the rather early evening Speck had been drinking a little. It was raining a downpour. As the evening wore on, Speck began to worry a little about Hiram – there was the urge to get the ordeal over. Speck wanted to go right up to the corral and ride the horse down main street in the mud. There were of course those who advised against it, and this angle was dropped. Another factor that bothered Speck was that he did not have his own saddle. He borrowed one, and when I saw him early the next morning, it was quite obvious that he had had very little sleep. Word seems to get around in a small town. The new day was Sunday and quite a crowd gathered very early in the morning. Even the preacher was there – the time was probably about six thirty.
Bert Carter on his own big bay horse led Hiram down from the Wagon Hammer corral to the corner by the door of the livery barn. To say the least Hiram looked the part of a mean horse. He had an evil eye, he was long and lean but quite powerfully built. He looked “gant” – probably from being off pasture. A gunny sack was used to blindfold Hiram and Bert snubbed him up tight to his saddle horn. Speck saddled the outlaw, and pulled the latigo an extra hole for good measure. The horses, the riders and all of the bystanders moved to an open area which was being used at least in part to dump trash.
Hiram was eared down and Speck got into the saddle. The horse made three or four good jumps and Speck was riding well. Just then a flurry of breeze flipped a newspaper, that was in the trash, up toward Hiram’s head. He swapped ends and lost Speck right there in the ashes and cans. Hiram ran back to the corral where the other horses were confined. The loss of the twenty-five dollar bet ruined a celebration of sorts for Speck and Bert. After the ride they sought the means of consoling one another and friends with whom to commiserate.
Otis Biggs Sr born June 1888, died November 1945, aged 57
Married Hazel Reedy, born November 1884, died May 1951, aged 66
Otis Biggs Jr. born December 1915, died December 1915, aged 3 days
Wilma Billie Biggs, born January 1912, died November 1939, aged 27
Robert Macy’s book Few Clothes and Many Horses:
“Late one Saturday afternoon in September (the year was 1919) a herd of rather “gant” saddle horses were corralled in the Wagon Hammer lot. I did not recognize the four riders, but the grapevine soon passed the word along that they were form Powder River and these were the Weston Harvey horses. When the evening of that day came, I was down at the pool hall with some of the others of the “gang I ran around with.” Spending time at the pool hall in Moorcroft then did not necessarily have a stigma attached to it. This was our meeting place. Otis Biggs, one of the town’s finest gentlemen, owned the place which was a combined soda fountain, game room and barbershop.
As the evening progressed somewhat a tall cowboy with about a week’s growth of beard came in to the barbershop area. We did not know him and it was obvious as he sat down in the barber c hair that he had been drinking. The barber at this chair was Truman Vesser. As most barbers do, True struck up a conversation wit the stranger who said he had brought a string of horses into town. When True inquired about the horses, the tall rider who was flushed a little with liquor said, “I’ve got 25 dollars that says there’s a horse up in that lot that nobody in this two-bit town can ride.” Mr. Biggs was the other barber, and by way of challenge he said, “I’ll take that bet. I have a boy right here in my chair that can ride the horse.”
Mr. Biggs was shaving Bert Carter who was then quite well known in the area as a bronc rider. The money was “put up” over in the saloon. During the evening it developed that the name of the outlaw Powder River horse was Hiram, and that Speck McKee was going to ride the horse instead of Bert Carter.
Even in the rather early evening Speck had been drinking a little. It was raining a downpour. As the evening wore on, Speck began to worry a little about Hiram – there was the urge to get the ordeal over. Speck wanted to go right up to the corral and ride the horse down main street in the mud. There were of course those who advised against it, and this angle was dropped. Another factor that bothered Speck was that he did not have his own saddle. He borrowed one, and when I saw him early the next morning, it was quite obvious that he had had very little sleep. Word seems to get around in a small town. The new day was Sunday and quite a crowd gathered very early in the morning. Even the preacher was there – the time was probably about six thirty.
Bert Carter on his own big bay horse led Hiram down from the Wagon Hammer corral to the corner by the door of the livery barn. To say the least Hiram looked the part of a mean horse. He had an evil eye, he was long and lean but quite powerfully built. He looked “gant” – probably from being off pasture. A gunny sack was used to blindfold Hiram and Bert snubbed him up tight to his saddle horn. Speck saddled the outlaw, and pulled the latigo an extra hole for good measure. The horses, the riders and all of the bystanders moved to an open area which was being used at least in part to dump trash.
Hiram was eared down and Speck got into the saddle. The horse made three or four good jumps and Speck was riding well. Just then a flurry of breeze flipped a newspaper, that was in the trash, up toward Hiram’s head. He swapped ends and lost Speck right there in the ashes and cans. Hiram ran back to the corral where the other horses were confined. The loss of the twenty-five dollar bet ruined a celebration of sorts for Speck and Bert. After the ride they sought the means of consoling one another and friends with whom to commiserate.