Our Friends from Across the Sea

Photo by JoAnn Sturman

Scott Sturman

Each summer while attending the Academy I received three weeks leave and returned to Cheyenne to visit my family and have some fun during Cheyenne Frontier Days, “The Daddy of 'Em All.”  The local merchants lived for Frontier Days, which was held the last full week of July.  The city doubled in size as rodeo fans came from all over the country to enjoy the festivities.  Only pedestrians were allowed downtown, where the bars never closed and drinking was allowed on the streets.  The cowboys from Texas and Oklahoma were particularly unruly.  They came to fight over women and the slightest provocation. 

The roughest bar in town, The Blue Bird, was a favorite haunt for out of state cowboys, whose definition of a perfect evening was to hook up with a cowgirl and put a fist through the face of a local.  Wouldn't it be a lark to walk into their lair and have some fun at their expense?  Cleverness was the key, so rather than be confrontational, some old high school friends, Larry and Danny Garrett, Lester Peters, another who escapes my memory, and I decided to dress as tourists and spend an evening at the Blue Bird dancing with as many of the cowboys' girlfriends as possible.  No ordinary tourist disguise would do.  We needed to be exotic by Wyoming standards, or otherwise there would be trouble.  We'd have to look foreign and completely non threatening, so we donned cowboy hats and boots, but added Hawaiian shirts, Bermuda shorts, a camera around the neck, and British accents.

As I was getting dressed at home for the fun, my Mom remarked, “Scott, why are you dressing like that? This isn't Halloween you know.”

"Oh, we're just going to the Melodrama, Mom.  For some reason the entertainers prefer the audience wears costumes to add to the excitement."

Five of us met for a few pregame beers and whiskey shots before visiting the Cheyenne Melodrama. It was a good place to waste time before things started getting crazy at the Blue Bird later that night. We went to the late show, and like good customers drank a few more beers, before we were escorted out the door for excessive enthusiasm.

It was a short walk to the Blue Bird, a small bar located on a street corner in the middle of downtown.  The tavern was thick with cigarette smoke and crammed with revelers, who were drinking heavily.  Many had collapsed on the floor only to be hoisted to their feet to have another drink. The band was perched on a platform above the dance floor and playing all the favorites. It was pandemonium – just what we had hoped.  When we entered the bar, the band stopped and all eyes were upon us. I yelled out in my best English accent, “Evening, mates!  Could a bloke get a cold beer here?” 

“What's your pleasure, boys?" the bartender asked, not knowing what to make of such oddly dressed strangers.

Realizing this was time for bold action, I responded, "We've come all the way from Jolly Old England to see a rodeo.  Whatever you Yanks drink is fine with these chaps and me. And by the way, why don't you let us buy a round for house!”

The act of generosity made the evening a lot more expensive for us, but it put us in good graces with the crowd instantly. The band started again and the dance floor became an inferno.  The atmosphere was electrifying–the deafening noise, the constant motion of drunken people, and the fights which would end just as quickly as they began.  While on the dance floor, I looked over my shoulder to a table in the corner to see one of the patrons cold cock a man seated with him. After knocking out his front teeth, he picked him off the floor, and they gave each other a big hug.  Now that's forgiveness.  Someone does a major dental extraction on you, and there are no hard feelings.  These Texans were a different breed.

My friend Larry yelled in my ear, “We better pull this off, or we'll have more than missing teeth.”

And pull it off we did... As the hours rolled by, we danced with every cowgirl in the joint. We'd tap a cowboy's shoulder during a slow dance with his girlfriend and ask, “Excuse me, mate. Mind if I have a dance with this little filly?”

The answer was inevitably, “Sure enough, partner.”

The crowd loved us, and the drunker we got the better our accents became.  Throughout the evening a good citizen would approach us and recommend in a polite way how we should change our western dress. “You know, partner, if you just got rid of them shorts and put on some Wranglers, it would look a whole lot better.”

“Thanks for you advice, mate. Do you think the shirt is alright?”

“It's not bad. Just get rid of them shorts.”

As 4 AM and closing time approached, the band stopped their routine and the lead singer got everyone's attention. “Y'all, it's been a great night. Especially to have visitors from such a far away place. In honor of them we would like to dedicate the last song to 'our friends from across the sea'.” The bar erupted in applause as we once again raised a glass, danced with every girl in the bar, and thanked our lucky stars we did not end up in the morgue that night.

 Water Lilies in Hoi An, Vietnam - JoAnn Sturman