The Girl I Never Forgot

From the open skies of Wyoming, here’s this month’s short story about ranch life, an insight I learned from my family, and a piece of trivia.

Story

In 1973, I began working in archaeology on an excavation at Medicine Lodge Creek under the direction of Dr. George C. Frison, the state archaeologist. The site was near Hyattville, on the eastern edge of Wyoming’s Big Horn Basin. We worked ten days on and four days off throughout the summer.

During one break, I drove home to Rawlins to pick up my bareback rigging. The crew had talked me into riding a bucking horse in the Ten Sleep Rodeo scheduled for Fourth of July weekend.

While I was home, my dad got a call from one of his golfing buddies. His daughter, Carlene, needed a ride to Thermopolis, in the southern Big Horn Basin. Could I could give her a lift when I headed back to Medicine Lodge Creek?

Of course.

I picked her up the next morning for the three-hour drive.

Carlene was a couple of years younger than me and not long out of high school. She had landed a job in Thermopolis, rented an apartment, and was living on her own. We talked and laughed most of the way and got to know each other pretty well. When we reached Thermopolis, she invited me into her apartment for a cold drink. After more conversation, I had to get back on the road, but I remember thinking it might be fun to get to know her even better.

In Ten Sleep, I drew a bay mare named Maybe So to ride in the rodeo. She bucked me off after six seconds in the arena. My rodeo career was over, and we all went back to the archaeology site.

I never did follow up with Carlene.

The following year, I stayed in Hyattville over the Fourth of July weekend. Sometime later, I heard from my folks that Carlene and her girlfriend had attended the Little Britches Rodeo in Rawlins that same weekend and disappeared. Nobody knew what had happened to them, but authorities suspected foul play.

Carbon County Fairgrounds in Rawlins, Wyoming, where Carlene disappeared.

About eight years later, the skeletal remains of Carlene’s friend were found outside of Sinclair on the dusty landscape.

There was no sign of Carlene.

In fact, no evidence of her fate ever has been found. She had vanished into Wyoming history, and it made my heart sick to think about what her last hours might have been. More than half a century later, Carlene is still listed as a missing person in an open cold case.

The mystery surrounding her disappearance inspired me to become involved in forensic archaeology, assisting law enforcement in Albany and Carbon counties with rural crime scene investigations.

Carlene’s family is gone now. Her house has been razed for a parking lot, and her remaining friends are in their 70s. I don’t know how many people still remember her.

But one retired archaeologist will never forget a day blessed with her kindness and friendly smile.

Insight

Country landscapes contain evidence of countless events of human life and death, some more obvious than others.

Did You Know?

I never rode another rodeo bronc after that weekend I drove with Carlene.

Until next time,

Mark Miller

“Carbon County continues to yield its historical secrets grudgingly.” From A Sometimes Paradise.