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Cowboy State Daily is Wyoming’s largest newspaper with Wyoming’s most experienced journalists. 

<title>You Still Here? Sunday, November 13, 2022 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

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You Still Here? Sunday, November 13, 2022

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily reporter, Jackie Dorothy.

Jackie Dorothy

Wyoming Life

Around Wyoming

Wyoming's oil boom in the late 1800s quickly became a frontier land war as former gunmen, prospectors and even nobles from Europe converged on the Salt Creek and Teapot Dome oil fields near Casper.

The cowboys of the Hole-in-the-Wall area were just learning their outlaw trade when the first oil claim had been made in the Salt Creek oil field. 

In the fall of 1889, an oil baron from Pennsylvania, Mark Shannon, known to his associates as a successful wildcatter, producer and promoter, saw the possibilities in the land that the cattle barons had scorned. 

Shannon had started secretly drilling the first well the year the Johnson County War was first erupting. 

While the cattlemen saw nothing in the sparse grasslands, alkali creeks and oil film on the soda lakes, Shannon saw a fortune to be made in oil, according to Ed Bille who grew up in the oil fields during the 1920s Teapot Dome Scandal. 

Bille documented these early days of lawlessness in his 1978 book, “Early Days at Salt Creek and Teapot Dome.”

“When the well came in, the derrick was fenced and guarded and an air of secrecy hung over the project for a few months,” Bille wrote. “The reason given was that Shannon wanted to be sure of a clear title to the land.”

In the days before the automobile became commonplace, Shannon hauled his oil to Casper by wagons using 12 to 18 horses. 

The string teams would then return with a load of supplies while people wondered out loud what this oil was even good for. Hundreds of barrels of the black gold went unused for those first decades, and newspapers lamented the waste. 

In the meantime, there was plenty of scandal associated with those early days of the Teapot Dome and Salt Creek oil fields before the oil hit the fan in the 1920s.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Wildcatting"}]

Early day wildcatters were prospectors who took a string of tools and drilled for oil in places it was not known to exist. 

Bille said they came from all walks of life, including ranchers, doctors, lawyers and merchants. 

Those flocking to this new oil boom were also promoters, “fast-buck artists” and former outlaws, such as Butch Cassidy’s best friend Elzy Lay, who made his own claims in Wyoming oil fields after getting out of prison. 

Oil industry historian James A. Clark said that the wildcatter had to be gambler, trader and entrepreneur

“He had a lot of things the old gold miner had,” Clark said. “Many died poor, but a few hit it big.”

These oil pioneers quickly moved into the oil fields located at the southwest edge of the Powder River Basin.

“Land titles were often vague, unstable, and insecure, and claim jumping was a fact of life in the Salt Creek Field from its beginning until the Leasing Act became law in 1920,” Bille wrote.

A location notice filed in the county records would supposedly hold the land for a year. Oil prospectors had to dig or drill a hole in what was called “validating the claim.” Sometimes, three men operating a spring pole outfit could put down three or four validating holes in a day.

Havoc reigned in the oil field as men argued who had the right to the land. 

Confrontations, threats, and violence were common during these early years. 

Often, these arguments were settled by the one who had the quickest draw and was best at handling his gun.

This alkali land, forsaken by stockmen, was soon eyed by nobility of the old world, according to Bille. 

Promoters had brought Wyoming oil to national and international attention by the early 1900s, and a large number of European investors were attracted by the growing realization of oil potential in the Salt Creek area. European  barons and princes began to invest in the development.

At the end of 1903, Shannon sold his entire Wyoming properties — refinery, wells, placer claims — for $350,000 to a group of Europeans. That would be about $13.2 million today.

This set off a fierce rivalry that was fought from 1905-1910 between the Holland-owned “Wyoming Syndicate” and local investors.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Hired Guns"}]

Land titles in Salt Creek and Teapot Dome were confusing and unsecured, so many wildcatters and oil companies hired gunmen, known as line riders, to protect their claims.

“Line riders were men of nerve, and they put up a fight for their companies equal to the fights on the range made in the earlier days by the cowboys for what they considered their rights,” wrote Harold Roberts in his book “Salt Creek.”

 in 1910-1920 only slightly deviated from a decade before when differences were frequently settled with .45-caliber revolvers and Winchester rifles. 

During these early gold rush days in Wyoming, it was not uncommon for owners and claim jumpers to mysteriously vanish.

Bille said that reputations had been built during that outlaw time. Oil field claimants were thus more likely to back down in the face of a gun held by someone who was known to have used it in the recent past against horse rustlers.

Early cowboys and gunmen, such as William “Missou” Hines, were hired and well-known for quickness and accuracy with a gun. Hines, who became a line rider in the 1910s, was an example of what the lawless Wyoming oil fields had become.

Dan Adamson, a cattleman from Nebraska, wrote in the Jan. 1, 1934, Omaha Daily Journal/Stockman that Missou was known to whip out his gun and shoot at even his friends for sport. 

[{"type":"text","text":"Adamson said that became known as a “Missou joke.\""}]

When the town of Casper was still young, Missou was riding down the street with his fellow cowhand, Texan Charley "Red River" Stuart. 

Adamson said that Missou pointed out that Red River was riding a horse with a reputation as a hard bucker and asked if Red River could really ride such a horse.

[{"type":"text","text":"“You bet your life; every jump in the road!\" Red River responded."}]

Missou promptly whipped out his gun and shot under the horse's nose. The old bucker went after Red River in earnest and threw him off in the street.

Another time, Adamson said a magician was performing in Casper and claimed that he could catch a bullet shot from a pistol in his mouth.

“Of course this was hooey as his partner in the audience was supposed to do the shooting, changing to a blank cartridge,” Adamson said.

Just as the head performer got through with his explanation, Missou got his gun out and hollered, "Are you ready?"

“The fellow took one look at Missou and bolted for the door, but Missou punctured his coat tail as he went out,” Adamson said.

Missou was first hired to guard the oil fields by engineer William Fitzhugh, described as a fiery tempered, capable, energetic person who could be both generous and very difficult to deal with. 

Fitzhugh hired Missou to keep trespassers off the field and discourage the jumping of his claims by others, Bille wrote.

Fitzhugh also took the fight to the courts because he openly had plans to “jump” every claim in the field and take the entire Salt Creek area. 

He believed that the titles which others had were no good and promptly filed on all of it and started drilling wells to acquire title. He clashed with representatives of the Dutch properties, The Midwest Co., and others.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Evicting Squatters"}]

Since much of the land in the Salt Creek area was public domain, homesteaders could settle the area as “mineral claims” or “desert claims.” They just had to do a certain amount of assessment work to get a patent to the land.

With the new developments, and new strikes in different sands, much of the alkali flats became valuable oil land. Squatters subsequently settled on some of that land in an effort to lay claim to it.

“Many of these squatters, attempting to establish holdings in the oil fields, were attacked and beaten,” Bille wrote. “In some cases, contestants moved in with teams of four and six horses, and plenty of strong-arm help, and moved the squatters’ shacks.”

While there was the threat of serious trouble hanging in the air, most of these eviction events occurred without major incident. In fact, as the horses dragged away the shacks, large crowds would gather to watch.  

Eventually, the oil field was mostly under the domain of Midwest, which had won the right to most of the land in Salt Creek and Teapot Dome through strong armed tactics.

However, even as Missou and other hired guns began hauling freight instead of flashing their rifles, trouble of another kind was ahead for the infamous fields of Salt Creek and Teapot Dome.

Corrupt politicians had also seen the potential of the oil-rich area as oil became more in demand. The fight for control of the Salt Creek and Teapot Dome oil fields soon drew the attention of the world. 

However, those who once patrolled the oil fields knew that the 

was not the beginning, but only the continuation of a fight that had been going on for decades in the lawless land of Wyoming. 

Teapot Rock inset Getty 6 21 26

<title>Teapot Dome Oil Fields Were Plenty Scandalous Before Historic Scandal Of 1920s | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Years before armed Marines invaded Wyoming and a cabinet secretaries went to prison for the Teapot Dome scandal of the 1920s, those same oil fields were already plenty scandalous. Arguments over land were often settled by whoever had the quickest draw.

Teapot Dome Oil Fields Were Plenty Scandalous Before Historic Scandal Of 1920s

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily's business and tourism reporter, Renée Jean

Renée Jean

Business & Tourism

Economy

CHEYENNE — Wyoming knows it has a huge housing problem. 

Builders, city and county administrators, state officials, business and community leaders — it doesn’t matter which of them you ask, most will agree the state is short tens of thousands of homes.

Scott Hoversland, who heads up the Wyoming Community Development Authority, puts the number of homes the state needs somewhere between 28,000 to 38,000 by 2030 — roughly 2,070 to 3,680 homes annually to keep up with population growth and aging infrastructure.

On paper, Southeast Wyoming Builders Association’s Joe Killpack acknowledges that sounds like it should be a developer’s dream. 

But the reality is a lot more complicated, Killpack told Cowboy State Daily. It’s a tangled knot of economics and investment risk, criss-crossed with infrastructure costs and policy decisions that make houses more costly and time-consuming to build.

“This is a macro problem, not a micro problem,” Killpack added. “It’s not like we’re going to be able to pinpoint one issue. There are several issues. We’re talking about labor costs. We’re talking about commodity costs. We’re talking about development costs.”

Those make homes too expensive for Wyoming’s middle class to afford.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Middle Class Squeeze"}]

If Wyoming’s housing crisis has a face, it’s the middle-class worker earning median wages. 

Once, that would have signaled a solid, respectable income. Today, it increasingly falls short as wages continue to lose ground against persistent inflation. 

 was $75,500 in 2024, 7.4% below the U.S. median. 

Year over year, incomes rose just 1.3% while inflation climbed 2.9% — a clear decline in real purchasing power for the typical Wyoming family. 

Over the long term, the trend remains problematic. 

Wages have stayed relatively flat since at least 2010, according to U.S. Census Bureau data. For much of that time, inflation was modest, hovering between 1% and 2%. But that changed in 2021, when it surged 4.2%, before peaking at 9.1% in June 2022 — the highest level since 1981.

The result has been a widening gap between what workers earn and what it costs to live. 

Regardless of the causes, the stark reality is wages have not kept pace with living expenses for most Wyomingites. 

That marks a fundamental shift for the state’s middle class. 

Median incomes that once reliably supported homeownership — a cornerstone of financial stability for many families — no longer stretch as far. Increasingly, the workers who power local economies are priced out of the communities they serve. 

The strain shows up in everyday decisions. Longer commutes. Delayed home purchases. And, in some cases, leaving the state altogether.

Wyoming loses roughly 70% of its residents by the time they reach age 30, state officials have said. Housing costs are frequently cited as a key factor in that outmigration, which has led to 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Math Problem"}]

The problem, as Killpack sees it, isn’t that developers can’t see the demand. It’s that the basic math of putting up homes, especially ones that regular families can afford, no longer works. 

On the cost side, labor, commodities, tariffs and fuel have all climbed, pushing construction budgets higher even before projects hit city hall for approval.

After that, fees and regulations are adding as much as $10,000 to the cost of homes, along with code changes like thicker exterior walls or new sprinkler requirements.

“Every time a new code is adopted the costs go up,” he said. “We’re doing these new codes to protect the health and the safety of our people who are living in these homes, which, hey, I can’t disagree with. But that doesn’t mean that costs go down. They only go up.”

Codes requiring particular types of insulation, for example, have meant using two-by-six-inch lumber in exterior walls, which adds to the cost versus a two-by-four.

“In Laramie, we have to do a draft stop in the basement,” he said. “So most are doing sprinkler systems and everybody thinks that’s wonderful, right? Because it truly is. If there’s a fire, it’s great. It’ll stop a fire. But the costs still go up, every single time.”

Meanwhile, waiting times for permit approvals stretch to as long as 18 months or more. In some cases, during which time interest rates, prices, and demand are all shifting.

“I’m involved in a project right now where we were going to build some apartments,” he said. “And this project originally started three years ago. They have had to stop, because the market changed.”

What The Median Buys V. What Developers Can Build

The gap comes into sharp focus when median income is translated into buying power. 

A median salary of $75,500 supports up to $2,097 for a monthly mortgage, assuming a borrower with minimal debt and strong credit. On a 30-year fixed mortgage rate of 6.47%, that maximum mortgage payment tracks back to a maximum loan amount of $332,842. 

Homes in the low $300,000 range no longer pencil out for developers, Killpack said.

“A single-family home under $400,000 is almost impossible,” he said. 

Builder margins, he added, are much lower than people think.

“Most people think it’s like 15, 20%,” he said. “It’s actually very minimal. I mean, you’re anywhere between 3-6% and that’s it.”

Which means developers themselves don’t have much wiggle room when it comes to their budgets. 

Given that kind of margin, when you look at a city like Cheyenne where 5,000 homes are needed, the kind of investment it takes doesn’t feel like it’s worth the risk, Killpack said.

“(Let’s) talk about building 1,250 homes in a year in Cheyenne just to meet the minimum of what we’re projecting,” he said. “And let’s just say $400,000 homes … you’d need a $500 million investment annually.”

For that kind of money, Killpack said developers look at what’s known as the absorption rate, which measures how fast homes sell in a given market. They’re asking themselves where they can get the fastest return on investment. 

Wyoming’s absorption rate needs to be higher to attract investment, Killpack said. 

Now, developers can find many markets with both less risk and faster absorption rates, like those in Texas, Utah, and the Denver metro area, all of which have larger populations to spread risk around. 

Wyoming’s lack of population, Killpack added, has many investors turning up their noses at Wyoming projects, deeming them too risky. 

That doesn’t mean no one wants to invest in Wyoming, Killpack added. 

“But it takes more than just people in Wyoming to make Wyoming grow,” he said. “Capital that’s being infused into our economy doesn’t only come from our local regional banks. It comes from other people, too, and they have to be willing to invest in Wyoming.”

On paper, the city of Douglas seems like the classic Wyoming success story. 

Oil and gas jobs form the bedrock of its economy, but more than 300 businesses in health care, education and retail round things out. Hotels are packed with energy workers — the kind of activity that ought to be pumping money into every cash register in town. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"But there’s a catch."}]

“Our population is 6,512 based on our community snapshot, and 50% of our workers live in the city,” Interim City Administrator Michele Carter told Cowboy State Daily. “About 42% live in Casper. So, we have about half our workforce living in Douglas, just under half.”

The rest are headed to Casper or other areas around Douglas, like Glenrock. 

The reason, Carter said, is directly related to a lack of affordable housing.

“A lot of our housing that has been built over the last few years is in that $400,000 to $500,000 range,” she said. “Which doesn’t fit your local businesses, your teachers, your nurses who are coming in to fill those spots in our school district and our hospital here.”

Many of the oil and gas workers who do live in Douglas, meanwhile, are staying in campers and at the fairgrounds because of a lack of rental properties. 

Fixing that has proven difficult, Carter said. 

Development costs, which include building out new sewer and water services, exceed what most people can afford to pay.

It’s taken a $5.7 million grant for water and sewer lines to help get things moving on a 30-acre site on the edge of town that will include a 94-apartment complex, plus several acres of single-family housing and new commercial space. 

“The grant is really to put the infrastructure in,” Carter said. “Developers couldn’t make the numbers work if they have to eat all of those water, sewer and utility costs on top of everything else.”

Even with a grant, no one is pretending this is a silver bullet that will fix everything. 

The apartments and homes the development unlocks will also take years to build, and the demand from mid-level workers is already far ahead of what’s on the drawing board.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Douglas isn’t Alone"}]

Infrastructure is a significant barrier for communities across the Cowboy State, Hoversland told Cowboy State Daily, but it’s particularly acute for communities with fewer than 5,000 people. 

Water lines, sewer, roads and power are required before even a single house can be built in a new area. For small towns with a thin tax base, fronting the money for that is typically next to impossible.

“Some of the bigger cities, Casper and Cheyenne especially, have more items they can do and have infrastructure built out,” he said. “But our cities under 5,000 population in Wyoming, that doesn’t give the numbers to draw developers in. 

“So, infrastructure funding is another one of those things that I think is a big holdup. It really restricts a lot of developers coming in, because they have to pay for the infrastructure to say 25-to-50-home development, and that’s a lot of upfront cost and a lot of risk on the developer.”

Wyoming isn’t alone in facing such problems. 

Nationally, the Harvard University State of the Nation's Housing 

 released Thursday shows that construction is down across the nation amid rising costs and an ever-widening gap between what median households can afford and what median homes cost. 

There’s a growing wave of state and local experiments on the ground — ranging from tax abatements, zoning changes, and new financing tools — all aimed at getting more units on the ground across the nation.

Wyoming is part of the melting pot of state ideas. 

Hoversland points to a statewide housing strategic action plan that has 27 items that may help, including fast-track permitting, infrastructure funding tools, and support for manufactured and prefabricated homes, as well as tweaks to how federal housing dollars are used to stretch them further.

Jason Mincer, executive director of Wyoming Neighbors for Housing, is pushing public-private partnerships, community land trusts, and even a state-level investment fund to help shoulder upfront risk for workforce housing, along with streamlined approvals to cut months off project timelines. 

Communities like Cheyenne, meanwhile, are rewriting their own rule books, streamlining zoning codes and getting rid of standards that may have been nice to have once upon a time, but don’t really impact safety and add significantly to costs. 

Cheyenne has even created a “cottage lot” development option that lets builders cluster very small homes closer together with shared open space, which has already attracted some developers.

All of those ideas help at the margins. But Wyoming has to find ways to make it routine, rather than remarkable, to build homes in the price ranges that teachers, nurses, and sheriff’s deputies can afford.

Otherwise, nothing changes with the overriding trend where a large number of Wyoming households are maxed out in the low $300,000 range, and builders can’t drop below $400,000. 

Until that gap can be routinely bridged, builders will remain cautious, and the state will continue to lose many of its young people to areas where the wages are a better match to prevailing home prices.

Cheyenne Housing Main IMG 6742 6 21 26

<title>Why A Shortfall Of More Than 20,000 Homes Isn’t Enough To Get Wyoming Building | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Wyoming needs tens of thousands of new homes, but only a fraction of the need is under construction because builders say the math doesn’t work. Middle-class wages aren’t high enough to afford to buy houses while home-building costs just continue to rise.

Why A Shortfall Of More Than 20,000 Homes Isn’t Enough To Get Wyoming Building

Dietz was once a busy and bustling community made up of a collection of mining camps scattered along the Tongue River Valley.  

Barefoot children were full of mischief, baseball games were played between rival camps, and then the explosions would come. 

Families would rush to the mines to discover if the men who were working that shift had survived.  

Stanley A. Kuzara of Sheridan was born on Oct. 15, 1906, into this dangerous and poor — but lively — life. Along with many others, found that growing up in a dangerous coal town, the first life lesson was survival.

His parents were Polish immigrants and his father was working in Mine No. 5, so the family lived at the coal mining camp of Dietz No. 5 at the time of Kuzara's birth. 

The Kuzara family, which eventually grew to seven boys and five girls, lived in a converted barn that was formerly a camp grocery store and post office, Kuzara wrote in his book “Black Diamonds of Sheridan.” 

Later, their camp would be renamed Dietz No. 8 when Mine No. 5 closed and a new mine established in the same area.

By the early 1900s, Dietz was among the largest coal-producing communities in northern Wyoming with 800 men working the mines in the winter and 400 in the summer. 

[{"type":"text","text":"Unlike a single town, Dietz was a collection of mining camps. "}]

G.B Dobson of Wyoming Tales and Trails wrote that each town bore the number of its corresponding mine, thus when Mine No. 5 was closed and replaced by Mine No. 8, the camp was renamed Dietz No. 8.   

Other mines in the region included the Hotchkiss, Acme, Model, Carneyville (later Kleenburn), Monarch, and Kooi.

Nearly every European country was represented in the camps which Kuzara listed as Polish, Hungarians, Welsh, Scotch, English, Italians, Czechoslovakians, Bulgarians, Austrians, Germans, Serbians, Montenegrans, Irish, Slovaks, Japanese, and French.

[{"type":"text","text":"Life was precarious in the camp. "}]

When Kuzara was a year old, his parents had to live in a tent with the family while they waited for their new house to become available. That would be the John Hecht Place located about midway between the Dietz No. 7 and the Dietz No. 5 camps.

It was while in this tent that Kuzara said his mother had him in a high chair placed near the coal range to keep him warm. 

One of the other small boys began to climb on the high chair and, when it became unbalanced, Kuzara fell on top of the hot range. 

He severely burned his right cheek and carried the scar for the rest of his life.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Dangerous Games"}]

Kuzara said that the kids in the coal mining camp would have to get inventive in their games.

He remembered how at times, they would “borrow” a handcar from the CB&Q railroad. 

These carts would be left on the siding of the tracks by a maintenance crew and proved too tempting to the boys who found it. 

Some of the older boys would carry them to the interurban tracks whose bed was not level as the railroad tracks.

“We would all push the hand-car up to the top of an incline just to experience the sensation of coasting down at quite a speed,” Kuzara said. “It was a wonder that we survived as the handles of the hand-car would be pumping up and down of their own accord.”

Another favorite pastime in the winter was to slide down the hills on homemade sleds, bobsled and toboggans.

The children would also ice skate on the sloughs and river, the latter which was kept clean of snow by flooding.

“Of course, skating on the river was sometimes very dangerous since the ice was either very thin where the water was naturally swift or was even non-existent,” Kuzara said. “We had to remain constantly on guard and did have some narrow escapes.”

A game unique to the coal mining camps was playing with carbide, a compound of carbon and a metal.

Kuzara explained that it was the habit of the miners to clean out their carbide lamps of the residue of carbide. 

He said that near the exit of the mine, one miner after another would unscrew the base of his lamp, knock it against the post and deposit the residue until there was quite a pile of spent carbide powder.

“As the men would empty their cans, we children would finger through the carbide dust, picking out all granules of unused carbide,” Kuzara said. “Sometimes we would merely pile it, drop water on it and light it; other times, place a supply of carbide in a bottle and after watering it, quickly cap the bottle and get quite a charge out of the resulting explosion.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Different Rules"}]

Kuzara recalled that even the men had their games that were usually of various contests of strength such as boxing, wrestling, weightlifting, and throwing horseshoes.

“My father once bet one of the more husky miners, Joe Stucca, that he could not lift a certain water-soaked oak railroad tie about 20 feet long,” Kuzara said. “The bet was $5.”

Stucca not only lifted one end of the tie on his shoulder, but gradually worked to its center until he had it balanced. Then the miner walked off with it. 

[{"type":"text","text":"It was estimated that the tie weighed about 800 pounds."}]

Kuzara said that all ages played baseball. Each camp had its own team and there was real rivalry among the various camps as well as with teams from Sheridan and the surrounding area.

“Even with us younger boys, baseball was one of our principal activities,” Kuzara said. “However, instead of competing teams, we used to play work-up.”

A player would begin at left field position and as a batter was struck out, the players would gradually move up a position until finally, the boy would arrive at the batter’s box where he remained until he was put out. 

This made it so that the younger boys became very adept in each position, and they became particularly good batters. 

The end results were that when they were older and joined the men on the baseball teams, they were already very good at the game.  

Even in the wintertime, Kuzara said the men were able to keep involved in physical activities when not working their long hours in the mine

“Frequently with a keg of beer nearby, the frozen river became the scene of a game called Pravo, sometimes referred to as curling,” Kuzara said. “In this game of competition, one would run to a foul line and slide a disk or quoit along the ice, as in bowling, to an objective spot or line, frequently glancing off another’s quoit to gain advantage.”

Kuzara said that as a young boy, he also played on the frozen river in the wintertime. One of the games was called Shinny, which resembles hockey today.  

“Instead of owning any manufactured hockey stick and puck, we used to find a willow or some other tree which had a crook in it shaped like a hockey stick, and for a puck we used to use a bung from a barrel,” Kuzara said.

In the summertime as they tramped around in the trees, he said they were always on the lookout for a better “shinny stick.”

The ghost town of Dietz was once a thriving coal mining community near Sheridan. Stanley Kuzara grew up around the mines where explosions were commonplace. Families would rush to the mines to discover if the men working that shift had survived.  

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