Bowman County Pioneer

Dakota Datebook


Lonesome Charley

By Merry Helm

March 20, 2023 — Today’s story is about Charles Alexan­der Reynolds, who was born in Illinois on this date in 1842. As the son of a doctor, Reyn­olds attended an Illinois prep school before moving to Kansas with his family when he was 17. Feeling the urge for adventure, Reynolds soon left his family to work as a teamster on a wagon train. A year later, he joined the Infantry to fight on behalf of the Union in the Civil War.

Reynolds was short and stocky with dark red hair and wide-set blue eyes. He was in­quisitive and led a clean life. He preferred the company of men with whom he could share his love of geology, animal life and Indian cultures. Otherwise he kept to himself, which earned him the nickname “Lonesome Charley.”

After his discharge from the Army in 1864, Reynolds headed west to work as a buffalo hunt­er. By the time he arrived in the Fort Berthold area, he had earned a reputation as a more than capable frontiersman. The Indians who knew him called him White-Hunter-That-Nev­er Goes-Out-for-Nothing be­cause of his superior hunting skills.

In 1872, Reynolds was hired to guide the first Yellowstone Expedition, which entailed es­corting Northern Pacific Rail­road surveyors westward. The following summer, he signed on for the second such expedi­tion, during which he earned the respect of Custer as a quiet but superior scout.

Custer hired Lonesome Char­ley to be chief scout in his Black Hills expedition the following year. Reynolds was ordered to find a good site for a military post and to also check out ru­mors of gold. When the pres­ence of gold was confirmed, Custer sent Reynolds on a dangerous mission to bring the news to Fort Laramie – an announcement that would ulti­mately result in his own death.

In 1876, Reynolds hired as a scout for General Alfred Terry’s column as it set out to bring in Sitting Bull and his people. Lonesome Charley went out to determine what the troops would face, and on May 17, 1876, he guided the 7th Cavalry westward toward battle.

Upon arriving at the Little Bighorn five weeks later, Custer sent Reynolds to guide Major Reno’s battalion in its attack on the Indian encampments. Reynolds had serious misgiv­ings about the Cavalry’s ability to withstand the battle. And he was right; enemy warriors soon had Reno’s troops falling back in a desperate retreat.

Doctor H.R. Porter later said, “[Lonesome Charley] fell at my side. I was tending a dying sol­dier in a clump of bushes just before the retreat to the bluffs when it happened. The bul­lets were flying, and Reynolds noticed that the Indians were making a special target of me, though I didn’t know it. He yelled at me, ‘Look out, Doc­tor, the Indians are shooting at you,’ and I turned to look and just in time to escape. Then I saw Reynolds throw up his hands and fall,” Porter said. Reynolds was only 34 when he died. Because of his actions, Doctor Porter survived; in fact, he was the only 7th Cavalry sur­geon who made it.

Mandan Flood

By Jayme L. Job

March 21, 2023 — Ice block­ing the Heart River near Man­dan caused extensive flooding to the area on this day in 1948. The flooding eventually over­took the southern half of the city and cut-off transportation between Bismarck and Man­dan. Although the flooding was due primarily to the buildup and breaking of ice floes on the river, the majority of the dam­age was confined to the lowland area at which the river flowed into the Missouri.

On the evening of March 20, dozens of volunteers began adding sandbags to the dikes surrounding the city as the riv­er began to show signs of possi­ble flooding. A haphazard dike was also thrown up across a threatened US Highway 10, the main thoroughfare connecting the city with the state’s capital.

Later that night, five families were forced to evacuate their homes, as the waters continued to rise. As residents of Mandan prepared for bed that night, the river flowed only two to three feet below the city’s emergency dikes. City officials warned that the water was likely to pour over the top of the dikes by morning. The Mandan Memo­rial building was opened up to house evacuees.

Overnight, a giant ice jam had formed upriver, causing the flood waters to slowly re­cede, but only delaying the di­saster that was to hit the city. The residents of Mandan were forced to wait and watch the gi­ant blocks of ice. Movements of the jam were tracked aeri­ally by five planes posted above the city. Finally, on March 23, the ice gave way and flood wa­ters rushed over the dikes. The hundreds of volunteers, drawn from local high schools and area businessmen, were forced to give up and watch helplessly as water engulfed the entire southern half of the city.

Hundreds were evacuated, and the army sent an amphibi­ous duck loaded with blankets and cots to the city from Bis­marck. Unfortunately, the icy waters were too much for the seven-ton vehicle, which was forced to turn back, and the aid had to be sent via railcar.

Icy chunks floating downriv­er stripped the bark off trees, snapped telephone poles, and even took out a steel bridge connecting the training school to the city. Spring flooding was not an uncommon occurrence for Mandan residents, howev­er; the following year, construc­tion on the Heart Butte Dam was completed in response to the river’s violent flooding epi­sodes.

Glenburn Street Duel

By Jayme L. Job

March 22, 2023 — Citizens of Glenburn awoke with a start to the sound of flying bullets on this day in 1908. W. B. Ben­nett and a man by the name of Brooks started a genuine gun- fight on the streets of Glenburn after refusing to pay their bills at the livery barn. It was report­ed that both of the men exhib­ited the usual signs of a night spent in the local saloon.

The two men arrived in town for a night of drinking, and de­posited their horses in Glen­burn’s livery barn. After a night on the town, and the taste of liquor fresh on their breath, the two men headed back to the stable to claim their ani­mals and head home. Bennett, claiming to be a United States Deputy Sheriff, began the row after stepping into the stable, demanding his horse from the livery’s keeper. The keeper gave the pair their horses, but the two men refused to pay the bill for the horses’ feed.

A fight broke out and Ben­nett, still claiming to be a sher­iff, fired a shot and rode off into the night. His partner quickly followed and the two began rid­ing through the streets of Glen­burn, firing shots in every which direction. The now-awake citi­zens of the town gathered in the streets to find out the cause of the ruckus. After assessing the situation, several of the men- folk organized a posse and rode after the troublemakers.

A short gun-fight ensued on the Main Street of the city, and Ben­nett was shot in the stomach. The two men retreated to a farm­house about a half-mile outside of the city, but were quickly ap­prehended by the posse.

Bennett was taken to a local doctor, but another physician had to be called in from Minot to perform surgery in order to remove the bullet, which had lodged itself below the man’s left lung. Both men were later taken to Minot and locked up for the incident.

White and Blue Angels

By Merry Helm

March 23, 2023 — On this date in 2002, 1,791 people laid them­selves down in the snow in Bismarck and made snow angels – at that time a record in the Guinness World Records.

Speaking of angels, one of our own – Navy Captain Gil Rud – commanded the Blue Angels from 1986 to 1988. He says one of his high points during that time was performing in Grand Forks and Fargo, which is going to lead this story to another vehicle – a tractor – in just a minute.

Rud grew up on a farm 10 miles west of Portland, ND, and says his first flight took place during the winter of 1948, when he was just four years old. Bud Hanson, of Mayville, had a plane on skis that he used for transporting young Gil and his mother, Clara, to Fargo when Rud’s Aunt Francis (Lee) graduate from St. Luke’s School of Nursing.

Rud was also fixated by crop dusters when he was a kid. Later, while he was attending NDSU, his dad cut a coupon from the back of a magazine and gave it to him. The coupon, plus five dollars, was good for a free airplane ride, and shortly afterwards, Gil was at Hector Field looking to cash it in. Soon he was airborne in a Cesna 150 thinking, “This is fun!”

Rud joined the navy and, in 1971, was in Vietnam flying mis­sions from the aircraft carrier, U.S.S. Oriskany. In 1975, he went back and participated in Operation Frequent Wind, this time at­tached to the U.S.S. Enterprise. One of his jobs was to fly cover for helicopters during the evacuation from South Vietnam, which he says was “a really bad time.”

Jumping forward to 1986, Rud was captaining Attack Squadron 192 when he was selected as commander – or “boss” – for the Blue Angels. This prestigious position was available only to pilots who had commanded their own fleet squadron, but Rud likes to play this down, saying, “They hadn’t had a Norwegian boss before – they just needed to fill their Norwegian quota.”

“Dakota Datebook” is a radio series from Prairie Public in partnership with the State Historical Society of North Dakota and with funding from Humanities North Dakota. See all the Dakota Datebooks at prairiepublic.org, subscribe to the “Dakota Datebook” podcast, or buy the Dakota Datebook book at shop­prairiepublic.org.

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