Same Guys Dancing

[{"type":"text","text":"Norman Greenbaum -- Spirit In The Sky"}]

Same guys 5 12 24

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

<title>Sunday Morning Dance Party: Norman Greenbaum -- Spirit In The Sky | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Norman Greenbaum -- Spirit In The Sky

Sunday Morning Dance Party: Norman Greenbaum -- Spirit In The Sky

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily reporter, Dale Killingbeck

Dale Killingbeck

Around Wyoming

He rescued two wounded men under heavy enemy fire, took a bullet to his leg, and the next day was blown into the air as a rocket-propelled grenade hit a half-track vehicle he was standing beside, sending shrapnel into his legs and back.

Capt. Barry Gasdek kept leading his men in September 1968 while countering a heavy North Vietnamese Army attack. During other action in Vietnam, he was shot out of the air twice while riding in helicopters.

Gasdek's philosophy then and now as a retired lieutenant colonel who closed his career at the University of Wyoming teaching ROTC students is that officers “lead from the front.”

“If you’re closer to the front, then you’re in whatever’s going on,” Gasdek said. “I never asked my men to do anything that I would not personally do, including being a tunnel rat or point, whatever.”

He left Vietnam after two consecutive tours with the Distinguished Service Cross, Legion of Merit, Soldiers Medal as well as a Silver Star, Bronze Star with a “V” for valor and four oak leaf clusters, and the Purple Heart with an oak leaf cluster for wounds received on the battlefield.

Growing up, Gasdek said he never considered the military as a career. He was born the day before Memorial Day on May 29, 1942, as the nation tried to respond on two fronts in the early days of World War II.

Born and raised in Loyalhanna, Pennsylvania, southeast of Pittsburgh, in a Czechoslovakian neighborhood, Gasdek’s grandparents had left the old country and moved to the U.S. to find a better life. His grandfather was a coal miner and his father also worked in the coal mines and steel mills around Pittsburgh.

An Eagle Scout and multi-sport athlete in high school, Gasdek was a three-sport college athlete at Indiana State College in Indiana, Pennsylvania. He played guard on the football team, wrestled in the heavyweight class and ran the two-mile on the track team.

Entering college, he chose to join the Army ROTC rather than do two years of required physical education because his sports commitments already meant he would have a lot of gym time. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"He found he enjoyed the military order. "}]

During his junior year, he committed to advanced ROTC training and graduated in 1964 with a degree in art education and due to his superior academic performance received a commission as a second lieutenant in the regular U.S. Army instead of a reserve commission.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Germany To Vietnam"}]

Gasdek said initial assignments took him to Fort Benning, Georgia, and then three years in Germany during the Cold War with the 4th Armored Division, where he had roles as a platoon leader, company executive officer and then company commander with the 1st Battalion, 54th Infantry Mechanized in the 3rd Brigade of the 4th Armored Division.

In 1967, he received orders to join the 1st Infantry Division, the Big Red One, in Vietnam. Gasdek said he convinced the army to send him to Ranger school before he went into combat. The Army gave him a slot in the school, but a month through the training he injured his knee and spent three months recuperating.

After the knee was good to go, he was reassigned to Hawaii and a new battalion being formed for Vietnam, the “Jungle Warriors.” They were deployed to Vietnam in February and March of 1968.

A short time after entering the country and being sent to 11th Light Infantry Brigade headquarters, Gasdek was promoted to a company commander role.

During his first six months in Vietnam, Gasdek was involved in directing search and destroy missions in the northern part of South Vietnam. He said they mostly were dealing with Viet Cong fighters. However, in September 1968, his unit, Company D, 4th Battalion, 21st Infantry, 11th Brigade Americal Division, was sent farther north, where North Vietnamese Army troops were active.

On Sept. 22, his unit was conducting a combat assault into the new area and one of the 40-soldier platoons became engaged with North Vietnamese forces.

Gasdek recalls sending in another platoon to reinforce them and both were pinned down.

With two radio operators, Gasdek moved to where the action was occurring. He called for help from an armored cavalry unit but the M-113 track with a .50-caliber machine gun and two M-60 machine guns could not make it through a narrow pass.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"AK-47 Fire"}]

As Gasdek spoke via radio with a platoon leader, his two radio operators were on either side of him. A North Vietnamese soldier sprayed AK-47 fire on their position. Both radio men were hit in the head, Gasdek was untouched. One of the operators was dead and the other wounded.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"Gasdek applied first-aid to the fallen."}]

“The one that was wounded, he calls me once in a while,” Gasdek said. “He was a police captain, I think in the New York Police Department. He said after Vietnam he healed and all that and went from one war to another in New York.”

Gasdek’s Distinguished Service Cross citation states he was wounded in the leg during the firefight. After learning two other men in one of his company’s platoons were wounded and laying in front of a defensive position, Gasdek crawled out and pulled them back into the defensive perimeter.

Other soldiers had hesitated due to the withering enemy fire.

The next morning, despite the leg wound, he led an attack through hedgerows and little villages and carried the radio himself due to the loss of his radio operators. As he crossed a rice paddy into a village, the enemy opened up with AK-47s, machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades.

Armored tracked vehicles accompanying Gasdek’s troops were hit and he was blown off his feet, taking shrapnel in his legs and back. He led the counterattack and “ended up just going bunker to bunker” killing the enemy. 

Gasdek said headquarters informed him they wanted prisoners to interrogate, so he had a tank drive on top of an enemy bunker until it collapsed. They then dug North Vietnamese troops out and sent them to headquarters for questioning.

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

“I ended up with six soldiers killed and 15 wounded,” he said. “I was wounded myself a couple of times.”

The North Vietnamese suffered 67 killed as well as the loss of rocket-propelled grenade launchers, ammunition, AK-47s, and other weapons.

During the battle, Gasdek continued to communicate via the radio and help get air support for his troops as well as engage the enemy. The chaos of war from helicopter gunships, rocket-propelled grenades, machine guns and other small-arms fire somehow brought him to a place where “in your mind it goes quiet.”

“I thought that if this is the day I die, at least I’m where I should be up front with my men,” he said.

His actions that day resulted in his being awarded the Distinguished Service Cross by Gen. Creighton Abrams, for whom the Abrams Tank is named. Gasdek said he had no clue who Abrams was until after the presentation. 

Abrams later become the Army Chief of Staff.

Gasdek remained in Vietnam for two tours and served for six months flying Visual Reconnaissance Missions as a base defense commander with a pilot on a light observation helicopter. He had at his disposal a mini-gun with 2,000rounds of ammunition and a case of grenades at his feet.

His responsibility was to protect a brigade-size firebase at night.

“We got attacked a couple of times. One night we killed 19 at the wire, and another time 21,” he said.

On other missions, Gasdek was shot down twice while flying as a passenger in Huey helicopters. In one instance they were flying over a village and took 21 bullets and fortunately were able to radio for support.

“It was about 5 or 10 minutes before we had gunships come out,” he said. The pilot found an old French airstrip to make a skid landing and a large Chinook helicopter was sent to lift what was left of the helicopter and take it back to base.

After Vietnam, Gasdek returned to the states through Hawaii, where he spent a week scuba diving, and then San Francisco and back to Pennsylvania. He said he never experienced personally the anti-war sentiment that many Vietnam veterans received. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"His Welcome Home"}]

In Pennsylvania, he said the miners and steelworkers made sure he did not have to pay for anything.

However, his own payment for the many battles he experienced involved post-traumatic stress and a traumatic brain injury. He said he believes staying in the service and talking with other Vietnam vets helped him cope and kept him from becoming socially isolated like other buddies from Vietnam who wanted to be a hermit and “wind up in the hills.”

“Sooner or later you’ve got to deal with your issues, your demons, and you know, life goes on,” Gasdek said. “So, for about 40 years, I never even mentioned Vietnam actually. I never wore my medals until we got invited to a couple of things at the national cemetery at Arlington and the secretary of veterans affairs said ‘How come you guys aren’t wearing your medals?’ That’s when I started wearing my medals.”

Assignments after Vietnam included Ranger school ,where he finished first in his class. He became not only a Ranger but a Pathfinder, qualified for setting up helicopter landing zones and drop zones. His experience in Vietnam led to his decision to stay in the military rather than pursue his original plans of teaching art in school classrooms.

Gasdek went on to serve as a leadership instructor at the U.S. Army Infantry School at Fort Benning, and through assignments as part of the Army Training Board traveled the world.

He was in Panama during riots that occurred a few blocks from his hotel and in South Korea in 1979 when a two-star general triggered a coup d’etat resulting in a shootout at the nation’s Ministry of Defense.

“Our compound was right on the other side of their Ministry of Defense,” Gasdek said. “They were shooting that up, and bullets were flying through our barracks. I was spread-eagled on the floor, but you know I didn’t get any combat pay for that. I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Protocol Role"}]

His career also included a stint as deputy chief of protocol for the Pacific in Honolulu, Hawaii, working for four-star U.S. Navy admirals at Pearl Harbor. His job was to handle all the VIPs, from presidents, heads of state, congressional delegations, and others who came through Honolulu.

Gasdek and members of the team took care of VIP itineraries and made sure their accommodations and experience matched their expectations and status.

That job allowed him to meet the king and queen of Spain, Reagan administration Secretary of State George Schultz, several cabinet and congressional officials, and play basketball with George H. W. Bush’s vice president, Dan Quayle. Quayle was traveling back from the Philippines and arrived about 3 a.m.

He had a 30-minute meeting with an admiral and then wanted to play basketball — at 4 a.m.

“My boss told me, Barry, you pick up a team,” he said. “We played the Secret Service and Danny Quayle. I can say part of my job was to guard the vice president, he was dribbling the ball of course.”

Gasdek ended his Army career teaching ROTC at the University of Wyoming. He said his role as a professor of military science allowed him to meet many people, including state leaders and governors.

He became an advocate for veterans being appointed to serve on the Wyoming Veterans Commission and also for several years as the first Wyoming veteran services officer. Gasdek said he took on the role to help veterans because he “knew what they were going through.”

Gasdek said he also wanted to make sure Wyoming Guard members on deployment were taken care of.

“We would make all the homecomings and yellow-ribbon events where they would brief the troops and the families (about) what was going on, making sure you had somebody look after the family while they were deployed,” he said.

After his Army career, Gasdek joined the exclusive Legion of Valor veterans’ organization that is open to veterans with the Medal of Honor, Distinguished Service Cross, Navy Cross or Air Force Cross. He was its national commander from 2008 to 2009.

Gasdek also belongs to the Military Order of the Purple Heart and has had leadership positions with the American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars.

While he never pursued his art education career, Gasdek said a three-story log house he built in the mountains northwest of Pikes Peak while he was stationed at Fort Carson, Colorado, decades ago became an outlet for his artistic side.

He has hung onto the house but characterizes Laramie as his final home.

“Three or four weather systems would be up there,” he said. “I got a view of Pike’s Peak, which is really neat.”

Gasdek’s lifelong efforts have been honored by his alma mater with a Doctor of Public Service Degree and in the past by U.S. Sen. John Barrasso in the Congressional Record for his service and advocacy for veterans.

“He embodies the cowboy ethics and what it means to be a citizen of Wyoming,” Barrasso said in remarks published in the Congressional Record in 2012. “It is certain that the legacy of his leadership will inspire new generations of brave soldiers.”

Contact Dale Killingbeck at dale@cowboystatedaily.com

Barry Gazdeck Barry Now and Then 8 16 26

<title>Laramie Vietnam Vet Led From The Front And Has The Scars And Medals To Prove It | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Retired Vietnam Veteran Lt. Col. Barry Gasdek had a leadership philosophy that kept him in front of his men. He has the scars and medals, including a Distinguished Service Cross, to prove he lived out that ideal during two tours of combat at the height of the war.

Laramie Vietnam Vet Led From The Front And Has The Scars And Medals To Prove It

Kolby fedore

Kolby Fedore

Wyoming Life

After the engines shut down and 19-year-old Jerahleigh Johnson climbs out of her demolition derby car, people finally get a good look at the person who has been smashing them into oblivion.

[{"type":"text","text":"Off comes the helmet and out falls her long blonde hair."}]

“I've had grown men say, ‘I haven't been hit that hard in years, let alone to have it be some little girl,’” said her dad, Jeremiah Johnson.

Jerahleigh lives in Saratoga and spends her summers fixing up old cars for the express purpose of busting the crap out of them in dirt arenas around the West.

Her latest machine is a hulking early-1980s Cadillac painted red, white and blue, with white stars scattered across its rear quarter panels and two exhaust stacks punching through the hood.

[{"type":"text","text":"It started the season looking downright patriotic."}]

Today, the hood is buckled, the doors are cratered and the front end looks like it has been worked over with a giant sledgehammer, which is the whole point.

[{"type":"text","text":"“You're going into a purposeful car wreck,” she said."}]

Then she grinned, because for Jerahleigh, the part most people would consider horrifying is the funnest.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"She Wanted In"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Jerahleigh grew up in the garage."}]

Her dad got into demolition derby about 20 years ago, so her childhood was surrounded by tools and old cars waiting to be torn apart and rebuilt, with nights and weekends spent turning ordinary automobiles into Mad Max machines.

One of her younger brothers started driving before she did, climbing behind the wheel around age 11 or 12. By about 15, Jerahleigh had watched enough.

[{"type":"text","text":"She wanted in."}]

There was no grand rebellion involved, no moment when the sweet Saratoga girl shocked her horrified parents by announcing she wanted to smash automobiles for fun.

Her dad was already smashing automobiles for fun. Her brother was smashing automobiles for fun.

[{"type":"text","text":"Some families play golf."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"The Johnsons “do derby.”"}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Not Holding The Flashlight"}]

Spend enough time talking to Jerahleigh about derby and it becomes clear the crashing is only half of it.

Long before No. 15 rolls onto the dirt, hundreds of hours of labor are invested in making sure it can survive once the smashing starts.

[{"type":"text","text":"The Cadillac had to be gutted. "}]

Glass came out. Seats came out. The dashboard and much of the interior disappeared. 

A steel cage went in around the driver's compartment, and the car was rebuilt according to the rules of Jerahleigh's class.

[{"type":"text","text":"The family has put about $15,000 into the smasher."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"And Jerahleigh isn't just standing around holding the flashlight for Dad."}]

“The motor that she runs, she put it together herself,” Jeremiah said. “She can do it all.”

She can grind and prepare metal, change her own oil and spark plugs, do a tuneup, install an engine and weld in the roll cage that might ultimately be responsible for keeping her alive.

Jeremiah said her mechanical ability is “above most of the guys, guaranteed.”

That makes the sight of Jerahleigh standing beside No. 15 slightly deceptive. The young woman with the long blonde hair and easy smile didn't just climb into the monster.

[{"type":"text","text":"She helped build it."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Peach Rings "}]

For somebody preparing to intentionally wreck a car, Jerahleigh has a remarkably gentle pregame ritual.

She drinks water, eats gummy peach rings and would appreciate it if everybody left her alone for a little while.

[{"type":"text","text":"Then the fire suit and helmet go on."}]

When Jerahleigh climbs through the gutted shell of the cab and settles into the driver's seat, she might have a strategy, but she knows it won't last.

“It changes the second you strap in the car and they say go,” she said.

[{"type":"text","text":"Everything becomes noise, mud, smoke and split-second decisions."}]

Jerahleigh watches the other cars and looks for openings, trying to protect the parts of the Cadillac she needs to keep moving while searching for opportunities to deliver a hard shot with the parts she can afford to lose.

[{"type":"text","text":"Steve “Grumpy” Diorio noticed that the first time he watched her."}]

The owner of The Grumpy Italian pizzeria in Saratoga, and now one of Jerahleigh's sponsors, knew almost nothing about demolition derby when he met her. The Johnsons had become regulars at his restaurant, and eventually conversation wandered into what their families did for fun.

He went to watch her compete, discovering demolition derby was louder and crazier than anything he had expected. But underneath the chaos, he noticed Jerahleigh wasn't simply barreling blindly around the arena. She waited for her opportunities and picked her shots.

[{"type":"text","text":"Now he's one of her biggest fans."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"“I want to see her become a star,” Diorio said."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Blood On Her Face"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Jerahleigh knows exactly what can go wrong."}]

Her biggest fear in the arena was getting hurt, but she's already checked that box.

At a derby in Utah, another car hit her hard enough that she bit through her lip.

[{"type":"text","text":"She kept driving."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"In fact, she kept driving well enough to finish second."}]

Jeremiah remembers his daughter finally climbing out of the car with a big smile and blood running down her face while everybody around her watched in horror. Jerahleigh was so busy talking to the other young drivers and congratulating them that she hardly seemed to notice.

“She didn't even realize that she was needing to go get stitches,” Jeremiah said.

[{"type":"text","text":"She wears a mouth guard now."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Problem solved."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Not For The Money"}]

Jerahleigh figures she's competed in somewhere around a dozen derbies, and she's loved them all.

But despite the occasional giant check, she insists anybody who thinks derby is a clever way to make money has profoundly misunderstood the economics of spending $15,000 on a car and then encouraging people to smash into it.

“We do it for fun,” she said. “If we were doing it for the money, shoot, we'd be losing. We would have quit a long time ago.”

What keeps her coming back is the entire strange, noisy circus of it — the smell of hot engines, mud flying from tires, radiators breaking open and throwing steam, cars disappearing into clouds of dust, and funnel cakes, hot dogs and beer in the stands while the machines below slowly beat one another into junk.

[{"type":"text","text":"Then there are the people."}]

Her father calls them the “derby family” — all those people they race against, compete against or, as he quickly corrected himself, “crash against.”

Jerahleigh's own family is almost always there, too: her mom, her dad and her brothers.

[{"type":"text","text":"And now Grumpy."}]

“I'm not a real big race enthusiast,” Diorio said. “What I am is a family enthusiast.”

That's what drew him to Jerahleigh in the first place. He watched the Johnsons work together — Jerahleigh behind the wheel, her father building alongside her, her brothers helping in the pits, everybody contributing — and saw something he recognized from his own family-run restaurant.

Jerahleigh is the one behind the wheel, but there are always people waiting when she climbs back out.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"More Cars To Wreck"}]

At 19, Jerahleigh doesn't pretend to have the rest of her life mapped out.

College never called to her, and rather than go simply because that's what young people are expected to do, she decided to work and figure things out as she went.

[{"type":"text","text":"“I'm kind of just feeling everything out,” she said."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Ask about derby, however, and the future gets much clearer."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"She wants more."}]

Jerahleigh wants to move into bigger classes with more elaborate builds, tougher competition and, as she readily acknowledges, considerably more money disappearing into cars destined for violent deaths.

[{"type":"text","text":"She wants to get better at building them and better at driving them."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"And she wants to keep hitting."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"‘Overcome And Conquer’"}]

Her father believes the sport has already taught her something considerably more valuable than how to weld or where to aim a Cadillac.

In demolition derby, even a good night goes wrong. You can build the car perfectly, have a plan and execute it well, and still come out of a heat with the front end folded, the wheels pointed in different directions and something important hanging on by a thread.

If you've qualified for the next round, there isn't much time to feel sorry for yourself.

[{"type":"text","text":"You figure out what's broken, fix what you can and go again."}]

“Not everything's going to be perfect,” Jeremiah said. “Not everything's going to be the way it's written in the book how it should be, and you just kind of have to overcome and conquer.”

Jeremiah sees that quality in Jerahleigh, whether she's underneath a car building it, behind the wheel smashing it or climbing back out after something has gone wrong.

[{"type":"text","text":"The car will get mangled. That's inevitable."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"She'll fix what she can."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Then she'll get back in."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"“You got to just stand up and keep going,” Jeremiah said."}]

Jerahleigh Johnson derb5 8 16 26

<title>19-Year-Old Saratoga Woman Rebuilds Cars Just To Beat The Crap Out Of Them | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Saratoga 19-year-old Jerahleigh Johnson can weld a roll cage, rebuild an engine and smash a Cadillac with the best of them. “I’ve had grown men say, ‘I haven’t been hit that hard in years,’” her dad says of Jarahleigh's demolition derby domination.

19-Year-Old Saratoga Woman Rebuilds Cars Just To Beat The Crap Out Of Them

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily reporter, Jackie Dorothy.

Jackie Dorothy

The old ash tree had stood for an estimated 60 to 70 years on the west side of the Washakie County Courthouse. It was 3 feet in circumference when, in 1999, a tree company declared the ash was dead and a hazard. 

[{"type":"text","text":"They were wrong."}]

When groundskeeper Heather Shryack discovered the stately ash had been healthy when it was cut down, she was determined it wouldn’t go to waste.

“She's a scrappy little gal, and she really knows her gardening,” said her husband, Terry Shryack. “Heather saw the whole tree was solid as a rock and that there was absolutely nothing wrong with it.”

The Washakie County Commission agreed that it was Heather’s tree and so she promptly hired an oil field company to haul it to her husband’s sawmill, despite protests from the tree company. Heather wasn’t going to be stopped in her mission to save the wood.  

“Everybody's upset when a big tree gets cut down here, without a doubt,” Terry said. “It was a treasure that we weren’t going to let get by.”

Over the years, Terry had made furniture out of the smaller pieces of the ash tree at his house in Winchester, including a rocking chair and small end tables. 

As the decades rolled by, he forgot about the large pieces of the ash tree he had stored in their shed — until he decided to build a table with local artist Calvin “Cal” Fulfer as an ultimate honor to the old ash tree.

The result is a 600-pound table with a river of treasure running through it.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Artist"}]

Fulfer is an "old-school Deadhead" who spends his time in his workshop listening to the Grateful Dead and surrounded by repurposed art. 

Since retiring as a tile layer, he has dedicated the last decade to creating award-winning sculptures out of abandoned relics of the past. 

His walls are decorated with petroglyph fish made of old typewriter parts, Styrofoam Egyptian walls and computer circuit board bolo ties. Tiny snails made from old forks and marbles crawl across glass tabletops and a train sculpture runs its engine.

In the midst of this eclectic art, the giant ash table is set up in a corner and represents the largest art piece Fulfer has done to date. Fuller said it was based on a design from the Middle Ages.

“They call it a French trestle table,” Fulfer said. “They would send the servants out to put the table up for the banquet.”

The table can be disassembled into four sections by pulling out handmade dowel pins. A good thing, Fulfer said, considering the size. 

“Terry is a really accomplished woodworker and I'm more of a visual artist,” Fulfer explained. “It took him a year to build the table and me a year to build the top.”

This is the second table the duo built together. Two years ago, they built a table top out of Russian olive wood and Fulfer painted 101 goldfish as the accent. The table was for a fundraiser for Terry’s stepson, who had an emergency heart transplant. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Treasure River"}]

Fulfer had discovered a technique of painting an acrylic layer of a fish and pouring resin over the painting. He will repeat the process up to eight times to create a 3D image of a fish people are convinced is more than just paint. 

For this ash table, Fulfer wanted to keep the theme western. He painted trout and crawdads rather than his usual goldfish.

“Terry just kind of turned me loose at the tabletop,” Fulfer said. “While I was searching for the right theme, I started the process by visiting ant hills.”

Fulfer said he pilfered the ant hills for their tiny sand pebbles, which he washed before pouring on the bottom of his resin river. As he worked, he began hiding treasure into the bottom of his river and larger river rocks.

“I inherited a bunch of stuff from my brother when he passed,” Fulfer said. “He was a jeweler, and so I thought, why not, and put some of his rings and necklaces into the table.”

When an old ash tree was cut down by mistake at the Washakie County Courthouse in 1999, the groundskeeper rescued the wood. For nearly three decades, huge pieces of the ash sat forgotten until a Worland craftsman built a 600-pound table from it.

Sunday Morning Dance Party: Norman Greenbaum -- Spirit In The Sky

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