Independence Day in Cody, WY

As far as I'm concerned, there is no better place to celebrate Independence Day than a small, sleepy Western town - the most American of all places.

July 4th brought with it unrelenting sunshine and afternoon temperatures at 9:30 in the morning, and all along Main Street, people and lawn chairs gathered two rows deep in tiny patches of shade. Rich and I, along with Rich's family who are hosting us during our stay in Cody, being a little late to the game, decided the best course of action was to plan ahead and we picked a spot of sidewalk where we predicted some shade would end up about half-way through the parade. I did my best to not feel superior to the people who had chosen Instant Gratification instead and ended up in the broiling sunshine far before the festivities were over. 

The town of Cody, WY is proud of its rich history, and rightly so. Being founded by the famous Buffalo hunter/gunman/popular showman and hero of every boy in America in the last part of the 19th century until early in the 20th century, Buffalo Bill Cody, every nook and cranny of every business in town is rife with echoes of its Wild West past. The Independence Day Parade is a yearly expose of everything the town of Cody is proud of, and every person in town turned out to enjoy it. Marching bands from the four surrounding community schools proudly played familiar patriotic and western tunes. Many floats featured local personalities in victorian-era Western dress - one float even featured a saloon setting with cancan dancers and a mock brawl between outlaw cowboys dressed in all-black. A woman from a local business which specializes in old-time-style photographs walked up and down the sidewalk promoting her business, lightheartedly dressed in a beautiful red dress which was open in the back to reveal a corset and pantaloons! I have been to very few places that are so educated about its history, and are so eager to display it to every person who travels through. It was truly a delight, and an excellent choice of holiday entertainment; I could not have asked for more. 

Seeing as how the Independence Day Parade was my first event as a new blogger, I took a shamefully low amount of pictures. I'm so sorry! I suppose you'll just have to take my word for it when I say it was quaintly pleasant, neither too over-the-top nor too understated for the crowd of locals and tourists. It was neatly balanced between the old, antique cars and WWII-era airplane flyovers, and the new, performances of all kinds by local children and proud displays by local adults and businesses. Next time, I will be sure to take more photos and video so as not to disappoint my readers! 

If one happens to be in Cody any time other than the July holiday and is interested in a display of the town's history, one must only go as far as Old Trail Town. Technically classified as a tourist attraction, Old Trail Town is a painstakingly maintained outdoor museum of the area's very first structures, as well as a huge selection of implements, tools, furniture, and household items which were used by the very first settlers of the region. This area is especially famous for not only Buffalo Bill, but also for The Hole in the Wall Gang. Featuring the outlaws made famous in the 70's by Paul Newman and Robert Redford, Butch Cassidy and his partner in crime The Sundance Kid, Old Trail Town owns and proudly displays the actual wood cabins used as hideouts, safe havens, and frequent places of business for the criminals who evaded authorities for years and captured imaginations for decades afterward. Also featured here is the homestead cabin of Buffalo Bill, a saloon with bullet holes still in the front door from a shoot out with The Hole in the Wall Gang, an original barn containing many intact horse-drawn carriages and covered wagons, and the respectfully-relocated gravesites of several colorful regional legends. But the museum is not without gravity - the curators have made sure to include information about the area's native peoples who were chased out by the white men, and there are several respectful and beautiful exhibits about who they were, and everything they lost to us. Being as fascinated by history as I am, I could have spent all day in this fascinating place, where history is carefully preserved as accurately as those who did not live it are able; I sincerely apologize that my humble photos and video could not capture how fascinating the place is to me. 

You'll be happy to know I took a much better record of this place, than I did the parade. 

The Western states are battling a crippling drought. It has been dry for years now, but this has been the hottest summer on record (and it has barely even started!) and so the entire Great Plains region is little more than a gigantic tinderbox. In light of this, many places - including my home-state of Colorado - have banned the usual fireworks displays, because a few minutes of brightly-colored exploding gunpowder is hardly worth setting the entire prairie alight. Cody was not one of these places, although many surrounding communities cancelled their displays, and so in a show of solidarity with our countrymen (especially our fellow Coloradans) who have been affected by the ruthless wildfires we decided not to support the town's fireworks display. Instead, Rich and I patronized a popular saloon (which, I believe, is classified as a bar-slash-restaurant which features entertainment), had a locally-brewed rye lager and listened to some local music while the occasional colorful explosion peeked through the front windows. 

Tomorrow we head north to Billings, MT. Whether we return to Cody for a brief period afterward, or whether we head east towards Fargo has yet to be determined - it's all part of the fun, you see, not planning every detail. Until then, however, I humbly submit for your enjoyment the photos and videos I have taken of our "adventure" in The Wild West. I apologize for the poor quality, but I assure you I have learned my lesson this week: as a blogger, always ALWAYS remember to grab The Good Camera before leaving the house. 

Watch this space for updates from Montana! Photos after the jump. 

From the parade: 

This is a vintage WW2 airplane, which buzzed the crowd twice. 

The woman in the red dress I mentioned. She had a lovely, outgoing personality - as is fitting for an outfit like this!

A large portion of the Parade features hot rods and restored antique vehicles. This was a brand new addition to the parade - a vintage batmobile! I wanted it.
This is also a good shot to establish what sort of crowd turn-out we had that day. 

From Old Trail Town:

This is Old Trail Town. All the buildings you see here were painstakingly taken apart and reassembled on-site, where they can be maintained and watched over by the museum's caretakers. All along the center are some horse-drawn vehicles, much like one might see if the town was in operation and the center aisle was Main Street. 

With a backdrop like that, it is easy to understand why Buffalo Bill fell so in love with the area that he started a town in his own name.  

An example of the sheer amount of antique items from the local area that the museum has in its possession.  This general store surely displayed everything a local settler might have seen on the shelves in their own time. And the boots in the display case were beautiful, I definitely coveted them. 

This cabin was used by The Hole in the Wall Gang. So impressed was I by the notion that Butch and Sundance had walked through that doorway, I felt compelled to photograph Rich walking through the same doorway.  (What girlfriend in their right mind wouldn't, I ask you?) 

The museum is careful to display how much the local peoples cared about the land they lived upon, and how difficult it was for the white men and their families who tried to tame it. But not all of the white men were brutal hunters without compassion for the land and its creatures - this poem is mournfully lamenting a dead Buffalo, and stirs in me the idea that some people did indeed have an understanding of how empty the prairie must have seemed without those massive, majestic herds. 

This was surely the most poignant moment for me. "History is written by the victor"  so the saying goes, and it is only relatively recently that we have gained an understanding of exactly what we inflicted upon the natives when we arrived and took over. This short essay explains, without mincing words, exactly how it felt from the other side.

Personally, I am not even  of western-settler stock - my family immigrated from Italy, Ireland, and Russia, and never made it further west than New York. But regardless, I feel deep regret; if only such guilt could have any effect on the past.