I passed this scene every time I went to Roscoe to drink beer, dance and generally raise Hell in my younger days ~ never gave it a thought. Now I stop every time I go to Roscoe, I look at the above scene and say, "Wow, what a sight." It is the entrance to the East Rosebud River canyon. I was always a West Rosebud sorta guy. But, I have to admit the East Rosebud area was beautiful too.
Roscoe was where the local high school kids would go to act like adults - i.e. like idiots. We would drink beer and dance mostly. But, an occasional fight would break out and the dance hall would empty so as to view the action. It was usually a "dust up" between Absarokee kids and Columbus kids with an occasional quarrel over some girl thrown in to make it really interesting. I remember one particular night when a fight broke out and I walked out onto the front porch of the "Sambo* the Eskimo's Bar (true name) to get a good view of the fight when some kid from Columbus says, "Hell I can lick Chapman". And, he threw a punch, hit me flush on the mouth and knocked me ass over tea kettle backwards off of the porch. Whereby I hit the back of my head on the bumper of a friend's car. By the time I woke up the fight was over. Never did find out who the hell hit me, but he was right. He could "lick me". My friend Bill Mack called me "one punch Chapman" after that! I never was much of a fighter. I could out run most anybody.
My buddy Mike especially loved Roscoe. He loved to fight and he could fight to his heart's delight in Roscoe. When I heard of a possible flare up I'd make sure Mike came along. I remember one time in particular when I mentioned to Mike that a guy by the name of Bob had a habit of getting drunk and beating the cramp out of people at the Y-Bar in Dean and that it ruined a good dance. He says, "really? do you think he'll be there this weekend?" Yep says I. And sure enough we were in Dean that weekend. What I hadn't mentioned to Mike was that Bob was about six foot four and weighted about 220 lbs. Mike and I were not what you call large when we were in high school. Still aren't. Mike weighted probably 175 and stood about five foot eight or nine. Anyway, when we got to the dance Mike had to figure out how to get to the guy because he was so dang tall. He couldn't have reached his head with a step ladder. Fortunately, for Mike the Y-Bar had a rather tall front porch upon which Mike ended his argument with Bob ~ Mike on the porch. Bob on the ground. I guess Mike figured if he could get in one good punch it would be over ~ and it was. Mike launched himself off of the porch like a heat seeking missile. Although Bob had started the fight -as most bullies do- , I don't think he knew what hit him. We were one punch sorta guys, but for opposite reasons!! We never had much trouble with the Y-Bar bully after that.
When I visited with Mike last month we passed the Roscoe area. Sambo the Eskimo's is now know as the Bear Tooth Bar and Grill. And, it got a complete face lift ~ pretty yuppie looking. And, the Y-Bar in Dean Montana, the last time I saw it, was a personal residence or bed and breakfast or some such other non-bar sorta thing. I guess life goes on with or without you.
*Yes I know Sambo is racist. But that was the name on the sign ~ big sign too. The man that owned the bar was an old Norwegian and you could hardly understand him. He had a hard time reading driver's licenses too. Gosh we had good dances there. That's where I learned the Montana Hop. :-) I was a one dance sorta guy, too.
Gordon et. al.
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