Old Time Branding

Oil on on Old Barnwood
24 ” x 15.5 ”
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Hall Ranch
According to folklore the original owner, a Mr. Tupper of Chicago, was a Mafia figure seeking to hide from the FBI. If true, apparently he succeeded. When he died, Mrs. Tupper, much younger, a local school teacher, sold the place in 1938 to 45-year-old Charles Henry Hall from Curtis, Nebraska. Charlie was a loner, tight-fisted about money, whose trusty dogs subsisted on potato peels. The ranch never had a decent well, water was carried from a now dry spring near the house. Never squandering this precious fluid on such superfluities as washing clothes, Charlie wore a pair of jeans until they would not abide another fitting, then tossed them onto a heap of brethren on the floor. If a dish weren’t awfully dirty, he turned it over to escape washing it. If the uncovered jar lured flies to their deaths, he spread the jelly on a bread slice and picked out their corpses later. Over time his land grew to 30 to 60 sections, according to local beliefs, and even in age he was tough enough to ride the length and breadth of it. He originally raised sheep but soon had 400-500 head of cattle. Wisely he slept in the living room with a hip holster on the nearby wall, for the town people, unaware that he banked in Billings, believed much money was stashed there, and there was at least one robbery attempt. On the final day of his life he rode out to check things and became ill, but managed to reach home and die. After that, his brother and heir promptly shot his dogs and put up the place for sale. Tales abounded about a Texas Ranger that had ridden through Hall’s territory and never returned home. When Robert Goffena Sr. bought the ranch from Hall’s brother, his sons went searching for possible treasure. They found no money, but up the fireplace chimney there was an old jacket wrapped around a .45 Colt revolver, bearing the stamp of the Texas Rangers. His pile of dirty pants were scooped up by a neighbor and sold on the Internet as real, antique, cowboy jeans. His little house was demolished. It should not be forgotten, though, that this was once the Capital of an empire. Small you say. Yes, though at nearly a third the size of Rhode Island, still an empire, hard-won and defiantly defended against relentless Nature. It and its ruler deserve to be memorialized.

During the summer months the Siemions worked for Charlie Hall, the boys as a ranch hands, she as a cook. Steve is the boy pinning down the calf as his brother brands it. There is a photo of Charlie branding, but he hated having his picture taken, so I respected his wishes and did not paint him.