AUGUST 2025 Ghost Towns and History of Montana Newsletter From The Herald News, Aug. 28, 1941 MONTANA COWBOY HALL OF FAME L e g a c y I n d u c t e e D.J. O'MALLEY "THE N BAR N KID" (1867-1943) DISTRICT 3 - YEAR 2025 Accessed via: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/ Though he was born in New York City, spent some childhood years in Texas, and lived much of his adult life in Wisconsin, D.J. O’Malley was the quintessential Montana cowboy both in substance and style. Dominick John (D.J.) O’Malley, also known as Dominick White, the N Bar N Kid, and Kid White, was born in New York City in 1867 to a Civil War veteran father who died from his wounds when D.J. was small. His mother remarried a soldier, Charles White. The family was posted to Fort Keogh in 1877. While a boy at Fort Keogh, O’Malley met many famous Westerners, including General Nelson Miles — he went to school with the commander’s two children, Sherman and Cecelia — Buffalo Bill Cody, Luther “Yellowstone” Kelly, and Native chieftains Rain-in-the-Face, American Horse, Two Moon, Spotted Elk, and Gall. At 14, O’Malley left the Fort and crossed the Yellowstone River to work as a horse wrangler for Captain T.H. Logan’s outfit on the Little Dry. Logan soon sold out to the newly formed N Bar N Ranch, and O’Malley found a home with The N Bar N, where he was soon known as the “N Bar N Kid.” He became a regular cowhand for the iconic ranch and helped bring three trail herds to Montana from Texas, the last trip being made in 1891. EventPhoto by L. A. Huffman
P a g e 2 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r ually, he became the N Bar N’s “rep,” or ranch representative working in roundups with the area’s other large ranches. The N Bar N, owned by the Home Land and Cattle Company, sold out in 1896. O’Malley sensed the days of open range were ending, but he continued to ride for big outfits like the Bow and Arrow, U Diamond, Half Circle L, and the LU Bar. For a period of time, he was the chuckwagon cook for the famous FUF Ranch, which ran 15,000 horses on 1.1 million acres of open range. He also worked as a deputy stock inspector under Billy Smith, a famous stock detective. He served as a deputy sheriff in Rosebud and Custer Counties and worked two stints as a guard in the state prison at Deer Lodge. His time as a lawman involved one famous incident. Early on Christmas morning in 1885, O’Malley was called to a disturbance at a brothel owned by “Emma the Blond,” where a skirmish between two rollerskating brothers from New York, Frank, and Al Smith, resulted in the accidental killing of Al by Frank. Roller skating was hugely popular at the time, and O’Malley was the area’s five-mile roller skating champion. In 1909, at the age of 43, O’Malley moved east to Wisconsin, married, and made his home there. While a sure-enough pioneer cowboy in Montana, O’Malley found more fame with a notebook and pencil than with his saddle and rope. As a young cowboy holding herd, O’Malley found he had a talent for writing verse, and with the encouragement of the other cowboys, he began submitting poems to area newspapers under the pen name of D.J. White. White was the name of the stepfather who had abandoned the family in old Milestown. The first poem that caught the public’s attention was “A Cowboy’s Death,” which told the story of an XIT rep, Charley Rutledge, who, while riding with the N Bar N wagon, died after a fall with his horse. O’Malley’s “After the Roundup,” also known as “When the Work’s All Done this Fall,” was a poem that became world-famous when it was made into a song. Recorded by a popular “radio cowboy” Doc Sprague, “When the Work’s All Done This Fall” sold 900,000 copies during the 1920s. When other cowboy poets claimed authorship, O’Malley, then raising raspberries in Wisconsin, was able to prove his claim as the writer. While he got his poetic dues, O’Malley never received a dime in royalties. The song is still popular at Western funerals today. Writing later as N Bar N Kid White, O’Malley published scores of poems, essays, and prose. As someone who had actually lived the life of a cowboy on the Western range, he became a valuable historian and wasn’t shy about correcting other cowboy poets when they got their facts wrong. At the first annual meeting of the Range Riders in Miles City in 1939, O’Malley — a Range Riders member — came from Wisconsin to be the honored guest. He did this again at the meetings in 1940 and 1941. D.J. O’Malley passed away in 1943, and though he’d lived most of his life in Wisconsin, there was no doubt as to where his heart was. His last wishes insisted he be buried at Miles City. -Courtesy of Montana Cowboy Hall of Fame, www.montanacowboyfame.org
P a g e 3 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r Joe Culbertson “Boy Scout” Joseph Culberston had the lineage of a true frontiersman. His father, Alexander Culberston was a manger for John Jacob Astor’s American Fur Company. Headquartered at Fort Union at the confluence of the Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers, the elder Culberston was instrumental in the construction of Fort Benton in 1833. Alexander Culbertson married a beautiful Blackfoot princess described as a graceful and confident swimmer and excellent horsewoman. They were the 19th century power couple of the Northwest. Joseph Culbertson came on the scene in 1858 and was thoroughly trained by his father and learned the ways of his mother’s people. Young Joe was sent east for a fine education but the wild freedom of the west called him home in 1876 when he became a U.S Army scout shortly after Custer’s defeat at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. He remained an army scout for twenty years. In his later years he lived on the Fort Peck Indian Reservation and reminisced about his life and some hair-raising adventures including a dance at which Joe provided fiddle music… I will never forget as long as I live, on one Christmas day I was called to go and play for a dance with my friend up to the famous N-N Ranch on the Elk Prairie Creek, thirty-five miles from Poplar. The N-N Ranch was the only ranch in that part of the country in those days, and I must say that the cowboys on that ranch were wild and wooly. My best girl and my friend and I started for the ranch at about eight o’clock in the morning. The weather was very cold and the snow was deep. I was driving a fine team hitched to a fine cutter made out of cottonwood. We arrived at the ranch at about seven o’clock in the evening and everything was in full bloom. The boys were all glad to see us. My team was unhitched and cared for. My girl went in to see where all the noble red ladies were. I was invited into the mess house. On the table sat a big bucket of eggnog. One of the boys handed me a cup and said, “Old boy, help yourself, and be happy.” After we all had a few snorts and began to feel good, we started for the dance hall. Some of the boys said to me, “Joe, do you think the ladies would like to put a little hot eggnog under their belts?” I said, “Sure, they would like it better than milk.” The girls all took a few snorts and their Indian blood began to get hot and all ready for a good time. My old friend Dick said to me on the quiet, “Joe, duz you really think we are safe?” I said, “Sure we are.” We then went to the dance hall. When we entered, the dance started. The boys had danced for four or five times and were having the time of their lives. I was playing my favorite piece, “The Devil’s Dream”, when suddenly three or four shots rang out from a 45 Colt. The girls and boys paid not attention to the shooting, but kept on dancing. The door flew open and in rode a wild cowboy mounted on a wild horse. He rode to the center of the floor and fired two or three shots into the wall and said, “Boys, I am Wild Hank, the best rider in Montana. Joe, make yourself at home and we will have the time of our lives tonight!” My old friend Dick, said to me, “Joe, dis is no place for dis old man, and I does not want to make myself at home in dis wild place.” Shortly after this all took place, Hank came back and danced the rest of the night. The dance lasted until sunup in the morning. After breakfast we told the boys
P a g e 4 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r goodbye and we started home. All social occasions had a unique western flavor. After we returned to Poplar from the N-N Ranch, we were again engaged to play for another big dance on New Year’s Eve at a well-to-do half-breed’s house. The house where the dance was, was a large house with three rooms made out of dry cottonwood logs, and a stockade around the house. On New Year’s Eve, the halfbreeds began to fill up on Jamaica Ginger and hard cider, getting ready for the big dance that night. At eight o’clock that evening, everybody was right on time. The dance started as usual, me playing “The Arkansas Traveler” for the grand march. The man who gave the dance and the owner of the place, was married to a full-blood. But a pretty half-breed maid, the belle of the reservation, had taken his eye and heart, and so all through the dance he danced with the girl. Everything went fine until about midnight. After supper, the owner of place and the pretty girl were not to be found any place. While we were all out to supper, he had his best team hitched to a cutter and pulled out for old Fort Buford, North Dakota. The dance went on the same, until the old squaw came into the dance hall crying and pulling her hair, saying that the half-breed dog had run off with her husband, and that she would kill her. After this, the dance broke up. It happened that there was a five gallon can of coal oil in the house. This old squaw took this can of oil and poured it all over the floor and the bedding and touched a match to it and burned the house and stable and contents to the ground. It wasn’t all fun and games. Along in the early days before the Fort Peck reservation was settled up by the white man and before any railroad went out of Bainville up the Big Muddy, while scouting in Eagle Nest country sixty-five miles north of Poplar, I was going down Eagle Creek, which empties into the Big Muddy. I came across a nice big corral made out of brush. A very nice bunch of horses were in this corral. Looking over the brands on the horses, not one was branded alike. I had often heard of a bunch of horse thieves ranging in that country, so it struck me at once that I had run into their nest. I went down the creek a little farther and came upon a little shack. A rain slicker was used for a door and a piece of white cotton for a window. I dismounted and said to myself, “I will take a chance and go in.” So I entered, finding all kinds of eatables. I cooked a square meal and after filling up, I mounted my horse and proceeded down the creek. A mile or so from the shack, I discovered five or six horses and a man sitting on his saddle with his gun in his hand, and this was Dutch Henry, one of the worst outlaws in that part of the country. I dismounted. He asked me where I landed from. I told him where I came from and that I was on my way to Willow Bunch, in Canada. “What is going on over there?” he asked. I told him that there was quite a big party over there getting paid for their land scripts from the Canadian Government. “Are they being paid in cash?” I said “Sure.” “How long do you expect to be gone on your trip?” I told him four or five days. “I suppose you will be coming back the same route with your party and we may camp with you.” While talking with Dutch, in rode two more men. I recognized both of them. One was Jones and the other Suffy, hard nuts from Bitter Root. Dutch told
P a g e 5 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r them who I was and where I was going. They treated me fine and wanted me to be sure and come back and camp with them. On my way home, I thought to myself, “If I ever get away from you guys, you will never see Joe anymore.” They had just come in from a raid with this bunch of horses. This gang of men was the worst bunch of outlaws that I ever met since the year 1885. I suppose they planned to hold my outfit up if we came back to their camp. I had no party in Canada– I was loading them so that I could get away from them with my scalp. The worst of all, I got into a big storm after leaving them and became lost and landed within a half mile of the outlaws camp. But soon as it cleared up, I struck south for the Missouri River. Jones was killed some years later by a posse north of Scobey. The rest of the gang went to parts unknown. This brand of horse thieves terrorized eastern Montana in the early days. I have been very lucky in escaping this class of men. —Courtesy of the Eastern Montana Outlaw News in Cooperation with Missouri River Country. To learn more about all the adventures awaiting you in northeast Montana, visit: https://missouririvermt.com HISTORY OF PARK COUNTY-continued From The Livingston Enterprise, January 1, 1900: Thompson Brothers, General Merchants This department store has occupied a prominent place in the mercantile life of Livingston since the spring of 1883, growing rapidly from the date of its establishment until its name has become a household word throughout southern Montana. The members of the firm are James S., William E. and Floyd A. Thompson, who were born in Otsego county, New York. James S., the senior member of the firm, came west to the Black Hills, South Dakota, in the spring of 1880. Two years after he went to Billings, Montana, but only remained there one year, when more favorable business prospects attracted him to Livingston. Here he was joined by his brother, William E., and the twain at once embarked in the mercantile business. In 1886 the youngest brother, Floyd A., was admitted to the firm, and it has since remained as one unbroken brotherhood. They have always kept first-class goods and done a perfectly straightforward business, carrying a complete line of James S. Thompson William E. Thompson Floyd A. Thompson Store Building dry goods, clothing, carpets and draperies, cloaks and millinery, hats and caps, boots and shoes, and a complete line of fancy and staple groceries.
P a g e 6 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r Dry Goods Department During their residence here they have each erected fine homes, built their own store building, and now own the Albemarle hotel, all of which stand as a monument of what can be accomplished by sober and industrious habits. They are always identified with every legitimate enterprise that would permanently benefit the surrounding country and advance the credit and good name of the state. To show the appreciation of the public for benefits derived from its honored citizens, James S. Thompson has served one term in the state senate, and William E. one term as mayor of the city of Livingston. Sax & McCue. John O. Sax During the summer of 1883 a small stock of news, fruit and confectionery was opened up in the old town of Livingston by John O. Sax and F. W. Brown. They did a good business from the first which necessitated the transfer of their stock to a larger store room before many weeks. After a time Mr. Brown retired from the firm, while J. O. Sax remained as proprietor until April, 1884, when Alfred Croonquist became associated with the firm until June, 1896. In 1891, H. C. Talcott purchased a half interest of Mr. Sax, and the stock of goods was increased two-fold thereby. Some time in 1893 Mr. Talcott retired from the business, again leaving Mr. Sax in sole charge. In February, 1890, Harry McCue was recognized as one of the partners, since which time the stock has been enormously increased until their store is now one of the finest of the kind in the state. The stock is of its line of the most varied character, including-every-variety of fresh fruits, the most delicate confectioneries, tobacco and cigars. Plain and fancy stationery is to be had in any quantity, as well as all the leading magazines and newspapers, daily and weekly, from all over the country. During the heated summer days, this place is a favorite resort for pleasure-seekers after iced drinks, ice cream and all such delicacies; which during the approach of winter are replaced by a complete line of Xmas goods, designed to suit the fancy of any and all comers. They are the leaders in school books and school supplies; all kinds of stringed instruments of the Washburn make, a complete line of wall paper, fishermen’s supplies, and Columbia bicycles. All in all, there is not a neater establishment of its kind in the state, while the cordial treatment of its patronage by the firm and its employees is one of its prominent features. Grocery Department
P a g e 7 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r Nolan Brothers. Interior View of Sax and McCue’s The history of no firm in Livingston is more closely linked with the development of the mining industry of Park county than that of the Nolan Brothers, whom it may be said are the pioneers in the introduction of modern mining machinery. J. F. Nolan, the senior member, is one of Illinois’ sons, born at Elgin, July 24, 1852. When four years old the family removed to a farm. In 1874 he set up a hardware establishment at Emmettsburg, Iowa, with a branch store at Ruthven and another at Esterville, while at the same time he owned and operated a manufacturing establishment of farm machinery at Tama, Iowa. Some time in the early ’90’s he made a prospecting tour through the Rocky Mountain states in the interest of a suitable location, finally deciding on Livingston, Montana, at which place he permanently established himself in the spring of 1892. Mr. Nolan was married in 1875 to Miss Maggie Martin of Madison, Wisconsin. Their family consists of five girls and one boy. P. J. Nolan, the junior member of the firm, was born in Palo Alto county, Iowa, March, 1858. His boyhood was passed on a farm until some time in 1879, when he made a trip to the Black Hills. In 1882 he returned to Ruthven, Iowa, and engaged in the mercantile business with his cousin, P. V. Nolan, Harry McCue Golden Gate Yellowstone Park. until the election of the latter to public service, after which time the former continued its sole proprietor until 1892. During Mr. Nolan's life at Ruthven he served four years as postmaster; was director of the Iowa Savings Bank, and was also honored as one of that city's public officers. He was married to Miss Josie Martin in 1882, who was principal of the Emmettsburg, Iowa, schools. Their family consists of three sons and two daughters. In the spring of ’92 he joined his elder brother at Livingston, and after building their present store put in a complete stock of general hardware, consisting of tin and wooden ware, stoves and sporting goods, fishing tackle, guns, ammunition and traps. They also make a specialty of farm machinery of every description, including buggies, wagons, mowers, binders, plows, harrows, seeders, drills, hayloaders, hay-stackers, wagon covers, and tents of every size and description. -Read More in Next Month’s Issue! Accessed via: https:// chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/ J.F. Nolan
P a g e 8 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r A Cowboy and His Horse The Great Falls Tribune of August 30, 1951, related a heartwarming true tale of a cowboy and his horse. Henry Haughian and Buck were rounding up cattle in the rugged outback country of the Sheep Mountains north of Miles City in Dawson County. Buck, usually a surefooted horse, probably got to daydreaming and stumbled on the steep hillside. Henry had no time to jump off. He was caught beneath the horse as Buck rolled down the hill. The fall frightened Buck, who got up, shook himself, shied away, and took off down the hill as fast as he could go. But when Buck got over his fright, he realized that his master was missing. He climbed back up the rocky hillside, searching for him. He found Henry lying unconscious on the slope. Buck then climbed to the top of the hill and stood sentinel there. Henry Haughian. Range Riders Museum Collection, via Range Rider Stories No one knows how long he must have waited, motionless on that hilltop. Finally sometime later, two sheepherders happened along and saw the horse silhouetted against the Montana sky. They noticed the empty saddle right away and made their way to the riderless horse. Once the men reached the top of the hill, Buck led them down the steep incline to the spot where Henry lay, still unconscious. The men carried Henry to their truck and took him to the hospital. Henry suffered three broken bones and extensive bruises but recovered from his ordeal. The story proves that humans and their animal companions have special bonds. Or maybe it proves that horses know where their next meal comes from. Whatever the explanation, Henry never forgot Buck because Buck did not forget him. –Ellen Baumler Ellen Baumler was an award-winning author and Montana historian. A master at linking history with modern-day supernatural events, Ellen's true stories have delighted audiences across the state. The legacy she left behind will be felt for generations to come and we are in debt to her for sharing her extensive knowledge of Montana history in such an entertaining manner. To view and purchase Ellen’s books, visit: http:// ellenbaumler.blogspot.com/p/my-books.html My/Donor Information: SUBSCRIBE TO THE GHOST TOWNS AND HISTORY OF MONTANA NEWSLETTER! Renewal? Y/N Send a Gift to: NAME____________________________________ NAME___________________________________ ADDRESS__________________________________ ADDRESS_________________________________ CITY______________________________________ CITY_____________________________________ STATE__________________ZIP________________STATE_________________ ZIP________________ Yearly subscriptions are $19.95 (published monthly). Please make checks payable to Ghost Towns & History of MT, LLC and send with this clipping to 99 Lampert Ranch DR, Anaconda, MT 59711 ©2025 Ghost Towns and History of Montana, LLC. All rights reserved.
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