Chapter One:       The Legend of Newtown

             In 1882 the South Central Railroad established a water station at a spot originally known under its Indian name of Two Skies. The name was originally thought to derive from the point of rock that rose so high from the San Tasco Mountains in the distance that it appeared that the sky was being split into two parts. Subsequent events would cause the reason for the name ‘Two Skies’ to be reexamined.

            Two Skies station rapidly grew into a pioneer settlement, especially when gold was discovered in the surrounding scrub desert. Miners piled into the area by the hundreds, and soon by the thousands, to dig their way to becoming millionaires. Along with the miners came various  unsavory aspects of Old West boom towns:  saloons, gambling and men who depended on their skill with a gun to take the gold away from the miners.

            It was a confrontation being a gunfighter named Jonas Gilcrist and a miner named Lan Wardinger that provided one of the most dramatic folk tales of Two Skies. One July Sunday, just after the first church had been established in Two Skies, if only in a tent, the devout Wardinger rode his mule into town for the service. On his way between the hitching post and the church service, Wardinger was accosted by Gilcrist.

            “Are you puttin’ something in the offering plate?’ Gilcrist allegedly asked.

            “Sure am,” replied Wardinger.

            “Give it to me,” said Gilcrist.

            At this point, the account becomes a bit murky, but apparently Wardinger took out a gold nugget about the size of an apple and held it up high. The bright July sun struck the nugget and shone full in the eyes of Gilcrist, who fell to his knees, temporarily blinded. Wardinger then rushed up to Gilcrist, scooped a handful of dirt from the unpaved street and dropped it down the back of Gilcrist’s shirt. Gilcrist drew his pistol with his left hand, while flailing wildly to pull out his shirttail and rid himself of the gritty matter, but in his gyrations his pistol went off. The bullet struck Wardinger’s mule a glancing blow to the head.

            The mule, known as Mully, fainted. When it revived a few minutes later, Mully had the power of human speech.

Chapter Two:       A Whimper and Then a Bang

            Two Skies began to slowly die as the gold mines played out. But two events saved the town:  the construction of Route 22, which opened in 1906, bringing commerce and travelers from all over the western United States to Two Skies; and the fact that one of the travelers who visited Two Skies was Edmonia Sorgenswede.

            Edmonia, according to legend, had been born in her family’s log cabin somewhere in Dakota territory (today known as Montana) around 1878, although the exact date of her birth and whether or not she was born at all has never been definitely determined. What is known is that from early childhood Edmonia was different than the other children in her frontier settlement. She could ‘see’ what others could not see. The past, the present and the future dwelled within her mind at the same moment, and thus she could ‘see’ all the people who had ever lived or who would ever live on the spot of her family’s log cabin.

            On the day that Edmonia Sorgenswede rode into Two Skies, she immediately entered the Two Skies Mining Office in her dungarees and riding chaps. A titter followed her through the door, raised by the female citizens of the town who had never seen one of their kind in such an outfit.

The Mining Office had once swarmed with engineers, field surveyors and assayers, but now that the mine was played out, there was only one man left-McLaren Sim. Sim looked Edmonia up and down. She was a big woman, so this took a couple of minutes.

            “What may I do for you, Maam? said Sim.

            “The name is Ed,” she said with conviction.

“Ed?” said Sim. “But isn’t that more of a man’s ….

“Never mind about that.  How much dynamite do you have left over from your, shall we say, unfortunate mining operation?”

            “Now why would a fine lady such as yourself be curious about nasty stuff like dynamite?

            “How much is left?” Edmonia began impatiently tapping the toe of her weathered right boot.

            “Well, I guess there’s about fourteen tons, give or take,” said Sim.

            “Should be just enough. I’ll take it all.”

            “What?”

            “Hearing problem, I take it,” snapped Edmonia.

            “What, I say what,  I mean, what  …”

            “Stammer, too, I see.”

            “What could you possibly want with fourteen tons of dynamite? stammered Sim.

            “That’s none of your concern. How much is it?”

            Sim fell back in his chair and made no attempt to brake himself as the chair rolled across the room and crashed into the gold weighing scale on the far side.

            “Balance problems, too, I take it,” said Edmonia. “Well, let’s wrap up our little transaction and I will be on about my business.”

            On the one hand, Edmonia’s request was unheard of, partly because she was a woman, partly because there wasn’t anything within a thousand miles that would require that much dynamite to blow up, unless HAHAHA you were talking about ole Two Skies Mountain. On the other hand, Sim had a lot of dynamite and nothing to do with it.

            “$100 a ton, and not a penny less,” he said.

            “$1400 then … will you take that in gold dust?”

            “Miss … um … Ed, how do you come to have that much gold dust? The mine’s been played out a good year and a half, and I don’t remember no female prospectors to begin with.” A stack of prospecting pans fell off the shelf, onto Sim’s head.

            “Never mind that,” said Edmonia, “here is the dust.” She handed over a heavy brown bag that sagged a little on the ends. You can weigh it while I go to the Millenery Shop.
            Sim weighed the gold dust alright. Over and over. Son of a gun, he thought, if it didn’t come out to exactly $1400 worth, and not a penny or pinch more.

            A few minutes later, Edmonia Sorgenswede returned, sporting a new straw bonnet.

            Sim stood up in her presence. “Well, I can have a couple of the boys load them dynamite crates onto your buckboard.”

            “No thank you,” said Edmonia. “I’ve made … other arrangements.”

            “Them there dynamite sticks is tricky, especially when they’re altogether in a crate. They get kind of … difficult to handle (Sim made a clear point of looking Edmonia in the eye with those last words). If’n I was you I would have an expert handler like myself go along and help you on the other end.”

            “Not to worry,” said Edmonia, breezily, “as I am also an expert at dealing with things that are difficult to handle (she made a point of looking directly in Sim’s eyes with those last words). “I will come by later to collect the dynamite.”

            The sale was completed. Edmonia Sorgenswede rode off on her buckboard, leaving her dynamite behind. Day after day, Sim noted that the dynamite crates were still unmoved in the shed behind his store. He began to think that maybe the woman had gotten waylaid, and he might be able to sell the same dynamite to someone else.

            On the night of September 22, 1907, at 2:32 in the morning, the citizenry of Two Skies was collectively thrown out its beds by a tremendous explosion that emanated from the mountain range east of town. Rocks and other blasted matter fell on the roofs and streets of the town for almost two hours after the awesome event.

            By first light, the beleaguered citizens, looking east with no little small amount of trepidation, began to make out the profile of the mountain range in the first light. All of them gasped, and several of them fainted. Two Skies Mountain, from the point of rock that separated the sky down to the fir pine covered base, was gone.

© Andrew Grossman