Shooting at the Oregon Trail Saloon.

In the years before my friend Brad was transferred to Farson, Wyoming to be the resident Sheriff's Deputy I was the lone lawman. I broke up many fights by myself in the Oregon Trail Saloon until I finally confronted the bartender, a seventy five year old frail man named Albert and told him that I was tired of breaking up fights in his bar, after he allowed his patrons to over drink and then couldn't control them.

Albert was not fit to be bartender and I knew the problem was that the heavy drinkers would push him around after they got drunk and then Albert couldn't handle them. Well for a time after I had confronted him about the problem he seemed to handle the bar better, because for the first time in years I was able to stay home and sleep at night and was not called out.

Then one night I received a call from Albert who told me, "Ya better get down here, 'cause I just shot a guy." Albert had my full attention with that pronouncement and so I dressed and drove the five miles from my house to the Saloon. When I arrived at the Saloon and entered, I found that local EMT personnel were giving aid to young man who was suffering from a gun shot wound to the stomach made by a thirty eight caliber revolver in Albert's hand.

I interviewed Albert who stated, "Well, don't blame me, you told me to handle my own fights in the bar, and when this young fella came over the bar at me I shot 'im." The ambulance arrived at the Saloon and they loaded and transported the man to the hospital in Rock Springs about fifty miles south of Farson and even though he was badly wounded, he lived.

The Sheriff, Jim Stark one of the last true old lawmen of the west arrived at the Oregon Trail a while after the ambulance transported the victim from the scene, along with the county coroner. Jim questioned Albert about what had transpired in the shooting, and Albert repeated to him the same story thast he had told me. Jim then spoke with a number of people in the bar who corroborated Alberts story, he looked around the scene a bit, walked up to Albert and then shook his hand, and told him, "Good job Albert, sounds like a justified shooting to me!" The case was over. Jim was my kind of lawman and I consider myself fortunate to have known him. Albert continued tending bar, and he continued handling his customers who gave him much respect knowing he was fully capable of defending himself.