From the pages of
Sublette Examiner
Volume 3, Number 22 - August 28, 2003
brought to you online by Pinedale Online


Dorothy Taylor

Dorothy Taylor, a long-time resident of Sublette County, passed away at the Sublette Center in Pinedale after a lengthy illness. She was 91 years old.

Dorothy was born in Bronx on Nov. 15, 1911, to Charles L. Thomas and Stella Warren. She married Harold A. Taylor in Eugene, Ore., on April 12, 1930, and remained married to him until Harold's death in September 1986.

Together they led an interesting life. They owned mines and raised horses, as well as running several retail businesses in Sublette County. For a time they leased sheep from Bob Luman.

Dorothy was a member of the Sublette County Artists' Guild and had many poems published. She was also a member of the 2 Better U Homemakers. She belonged to the Congregational Church in Pinedale.

Mrs. Taylor leaves a daughter, Karole Taylor.

She was preceded in death by her son, Charles Taylor, her parents and all of her brothers and sisters.

A memorial service was conducted on Saturday, Aug. 23, 2003, at the Chapel of the Pines at Hudson's Funeral Home with Mary Caucutt officiating. Bill Meyer provided the eulogy. Music was provided by Betty Jo Griffin and Kay Meeks. A luncheon was held afterwards at the Pinedale VFW 4801.

The family requests that donations be made to the hospice group of Pinedale.

Horace William Swain

Life-long resident Horace Swain, 87, passed away Friday, Aug. 22, 2003, after a short illness.

Horace was born June 7, 1916, to Horace Hector (Nick) and Muzetta Mae (Etta) Swain at home in Pinedale, which was then located in Fremont County. Horace lived his whole life in the Pinedale area. As a young man, he worked for ranches such as the Flying A Guest Ranch, D C Bar Dude Ranch, Lou Hennick Ranch and Billy Woods at the Grubbing Hoe Ranch.

In 1959, Horace went to work at the Pinedale Post Office, where he worked into the postmaster job from which he retired in July 1981.

Horace and his first wife, Edna, raised five children, Vernon Swain of Evanston, Ron Swain of Orovada, Nev., Pam Kirkpatrick, Julie Early and Garland Swain, all of Pinedale.

In June 1963, Horace married Marilyn Brazelton and they lived at their home in Pinedale until her death in May of 1995.

Horace was an avid pilot, and loved to snowmachine and ride horses. In his later years he enjoyed hunting and fishing for big salmon or halibut on the West Coast.

Horace also loved to take pictures of anything, anyone, at anytime. Several of his photos were printed on the cover of the local telephone directory and in the summer editions of the local newspapers.

During the past five years, Horace could be seen walking on the Fremont Lake Road early (6:30 a.m.) every morning, rain, snow or shine. He said this exercise is what was keeping him young! He also enjoyed his weekly trips to Rock Springs with his daughter, Julie.

Horace was an active member of the Masonic Lodge for over 50 years.

Horace was preceded in death by his wife Marilyn, mother Etta, father Nick, sister Florence Bridger of Twin Falls, Idaho, twin brothers John and Harry Hilliard of Fort Worth, Texas, granddaughter Dinah Swain, grandson Greg Swain and great-grandson Lane Steele.

He is survived by his five children, sister Jimmie Rohleder of Grandview, Texas, 14 grandchildren, 23 great-grandchildren, two great-great grandchildren, and several nieces and nephews.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the wonderful hospice service and the Sublette Center for the care of Horace.

(Gerald Mason, long-time friend of Horace Swain, read this piece that he wrote a few years ago about Horace, at Horace's funeral service.)

I think in the interest of public health, safety and welfare, I should share a recent snowmobile experience. I went on a snowmachine trip with one of our pioneer-stock senior citizens and learned some things about which the public should be aware.

Everything started well enough. On the way from Pinedale to the parking lot, the senior citizen remarked to me that he liked to travel about 35 mph. He said this allows you to enjoy the scenery and is safer. I thought, "That's a pretty good idea." Besides, it would give me a chance to test out my latest gadget, a rearview mirror that Velcros to your glove. Little did I know what was about to happen.

As we left the parking lot at the Green River headed for the Line Shack, the senior citizen took the lead and he did drive 35 mph, until his engine warmed up (approx. 1/2 mile). After that, at 60 mph I could just barely keep him in sight. After 10 miles, I was thinking surely he will soon slow down and he did, while we crossed the Green River at the cow camp. Once we were across, he flew up the hill. Local snowmachiners will remember that the trip from the river to the open country on top is not known for its smoothness and it does have at least a local reputation for its sharp curves. I don't know for sure how fast we were going because I was bouncing too much to read the speedometer. In fact, the only time my seat and the snowmachine seat made significant contact was when I would meet it on the way down immediately prior to going up again.

At some point, I began to wonder what was the hurry? At first I thought he was hungry, but discarded that thought. We ate breakfast just before we left town, a fact I was beginning to regret. I think we were trying for a new speed record from the parking lot to the Line Shack.

The scenery was great, I think. Actually all I ever saw was this green blur on each side with a white strip up the middle. That became the object. Keep the white strip as near the middle as possible and hang on. Fortunately it smoothed out when we reached the top. That called for more speed and we were already going faster than I thought his four-year-old machine could go. He had complained on the way to the parking lot that it was underpowered - thank goodness!

As I followed, I noticed every once in a while he executed a peculiar maneuver. While driving lickety split up the packed trail, he would suddenly dart into the soft snow on the edge, continue there for a short distance, then shoot back into the road. At first I thought this was to allow the side rails to lubricate. I later found that the senior set (a term I was reassessing) refers to this as the slingshot maneuver because they increase their speed by 27 percent. Don't ask me how they do this. All I got was a wet butt and a bigger gap between us.

Finally we arrived at the Line Shack where I made the surprising discovery that the senior citizen's brake light really did work after all. Unfortunately the Line Shack was closed. Fortunately the Sawmill, just down the road, was open. By the way, I learned we missed the record by several minutes, a record he and Sonny (another senior citizen) had set before they groomed the trails. I did notice though that the only other customers at the Sawmill were just finishing breakfast when we arrived. Considering we left the parking lot at 11:30 a.m., and it's over 35 miles, I guess we did okay.

After a rest stop and lunch we started back by a different route with me in the lead. That lasted approximately one mile. I was doing 40 mph when he passed me and from then on, the return trip was a lot like the trip over, blurred green and keep that white sucker in the middle.

The trail back was designed for slower speeds. I know that because of the hairpin turns. Twice on the return trip I briefly saw brake lights just before he accelerated all the way through the turn. I think this is a variation of the slingshot maneuver. I never had the nerve to find out if it worked.

Surprisingly, we soon arrived back at the parking lot in good shape. At least Horace was.

The purpose of this is to warn the public about snowmobiling with senior citizens. Some of them must move in very fast company. They give the term "jet set" a whole new meaning. Would I do it again? You bet, except for one thing. Next time I'll leave my Velcro rearview mirror home.

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