RIDING WITH THE LAND
A chronology of the interesting people and history of our property and surrounding area...
ANCIENT MOUNDS & VILLAGE
BASS REEVES
COAL MINE IN BOKOSHE
DEARL & DOLORES TOBEY
TOBEY FAMILY, 1966
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A ‘King Tut’s Tomb’ in the Arkansas Valley
Dating back to around 800, and for the next eight centuries, the land that would become Back Pasture Ranch was part of a western outpost of the Caddoan Mississippian culture. Like the Aztecs of Central America, these Native Americans dominated what is now the southeastern and midwestern U.S. Their shaped earthen burial mounds—the Spiro Mounds—are just a few miles away. It’s one of the most significant archeological sites on the continent. Artifacts include carvings, pottery, pipes, spearheads and arrowheads. It’s easy to imagine these ancient hunters moving silently along our ridge, stalking game. Early European Exploration In the 1500s, several Spanish explorers trekked into what is now Oklahoma in search of the fabled “Seven Golden Cities.” In 1539, Hernando de Soto and his party came all the way from Florida into western Arkansas, potentially following the Arkansas River into our area. Louisiana Purchase In 1803, our land was part of the historic Louisiana Purchase. Spain, France, Spain and then France again had claimed ownership of the massive territory since 1682. U.S. President Thomas Jefferson, eager to gain control of the port of New Orleans and the Mississippi River watershed, presided over the acquisition of 828,000 square miles for a price of $15 million. That means France collected about $2.25 for our 80 acres! Trail of Tears In 1820, the Choctaw Tribe signed the Treaty of Doak’s Stand, ceding part of their ancestral home in the deep South and receiving land in Indian Territory, now Oklahoma. Our tract was included in this treaty. In 1830, the Treaty of Dancing Rabbit Creek forced relocation of all remaining tribal members—escorted by federal troops—to our area. The town of Scullyville, now gone except for a cemetery, was established near present-day Spiro as the capital of the new Choctaw Nation. Fort Coffee In 1834, at the request of the Tribe, the U.S. Army built Fort Coffee to stop the whiskey and contraband flowing through Scullyville and across Indian Territory by smugglers on the Arkansas River. The garrison succeeded in its mission. It was abandoned in 1838 with the establishment of nearby Fort Smith. Butterfield Line From 1858 to the breakout of the Civil War in 1861, Scullyville was a stage stop on the famous Butterfield Overland Mail route. Butterfield stagecoaches carried passengers and parcels west from Memphis and St. Louis. The two routes converged at Fort Smith before pressing westward through Indian Territory—and very near what is now Back Pasture Ranch—bound for San Francisco. Civil War Cannon blasts and the smoke of war once drifted across our land. During the American Revolution, the Choctaw Tribe allied with the U.S. government. But during the Civil War, most Choctaw, bitter over their treatment in the Trail of Tears, sided with the Confederacy. In 1863, they clashed with Union soldiers at the Battle of Devil’s Backbone south of Fort Smith. Union forces then moved west into Indian Territory, capturing Scullyville, Fort Coffee and the strategic position overlooking the Arkansas River. The Union held the locations until the end of the war and then burned the buildings to the ground. Era of Lawlessness In 1875, Judge Isaac Parker—also known as "the Hanging Judge"—became the first judge for the Western District of Arkansas. He would go on to sentence an astonishing 160 people to death in the gallows that still stand today behind his Fort Smith courtroom. He also appointed legendary lawmen Bass Reeves, Heck Thomas, Chris Madsen and Bill Tilghman as deputy U.S. marshals. Their job was chasing the horse thieves, cattle rustlers, gunslingers, bandits, robbers, bootleggers, swindlers and murderers who fled westward into Indian Territory. The deputies made thousands of arrests and killed many outlaws, including some, almost certainly, on or near our land. It was all part of the saga that inspired the movie True Grit. The 1969 original film starred John Wayne, while the 2010 remake starred Jeff Bridges, playing Deputy U.S. Marshal Rooster Cogburn tracking wanted fugitives into what is now our part of Oklahoma. Coal, Timber & Railroads Beginning in 1886 (and lasting nearly 50 years), coal mining boomed in our area, as well as timber harvest further south. Railroad tracks soon crisscrossed the landscape with trains carrying local resources away to distant markets. During this period, Denise's great-grandfather began establishing the Tobey family here. Chris Tobey immigrated from France and found a wife. Their son, Delbert, would work in the mines. Later, their grandson—Denise's dad, Dearl—worked at an associated creosote plant in nearby Panama, while hand-building his family's first home on Bokoshe Road just a mile south of our hayfield. Oklahoma statehood was ratified in 1907. Until that time, our place was within the old Scullyville County. The Scullyville rock jail, now on the National Register of Historic Places, still stands two miles south. At statehood, the county name changed to LeFlore in honor of a local Choctaw family. Act of Congress Through the early 1900s, Congress passed a series of acts providing for the public sale of Choctaw Nation lands. A 1912 measure charged the U.S. Secretary of the Interior with evaluating minerals (particularly "coal and asphalt"), appraising, confirming sales approvals from tribal leaders, and collecting public bids for selected parcels—including the land that would eventually become ours. The first deed for Back Pasture Ranch property was awarded in 1918 to a high bidder who paid $660. That revenue went to the U.S. Treasury for disbursement back to the Tribe. Over the years, our land changed hands several times. It was sold, re-sold, mortgaged, passed down to heirs, even surrendered to the county when taxes went unpaid during the Great Depression. Through it all, surprisingly, the original 80-acre tract was never divided or developed. On July 17, 1965, the land sold again, this time to Dearl and Dolores Tobey. By this point, Dearl had moved his family's house from Bokoshe Road to the lush pastureland lying between the two big hills on Hwy. 59 just north of Panama. He was working for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers on the massive Arkansas River Navigation System, a chain of locks and dams that made Tulsa the world's farthest inland seaport. He had opened the Dairy Bar drive-in next to the high school in Spiro. And he'd ventured into the ranching business. The Back Pasture Denise had just turned three in 1965 when her parents added the new piece of ground to their homeplace spread. The new property sat a half-mile past their west fence. They dubbed it “the back pasture.” At that time, and for the next 30 years, an access road dead-ended at the gate to the back pasture. Beyond the gate was an isolated expanse of native countryside. During those years, the Tobeys freely moved cattle back and forth on the dirt lane connecting their front and back pastures. Denise and her siblings and friends grew up swimming in the back pasture’s small pond, riding horses across its open field, and daring each other to clamber up the ridge's rocky bluffs in spite of their ominous nickname: the wolf caves. Dearl passed away in 1999. Dolores died in 2018. Their final wishes were to distribute their property equally among their five children. The back pasture wound up divided into two tracts: half for Denise and half for one of her sisters, who soon sold her part to us. The original 80 acres that were carved out of the Choctaw Nation a hundred years earlier were back in single ownership. Much has changed over time. The old dead-end dirt lane is now a paved county thoroughfare. No longer isolated, the area is now dotted with homes and speeding cars. Trains that once exported coal are now importing it. Fed by coal from Wyoming, a constantly hungry powerplant now hums just a few miles to our east, often sending a steam cloud towering into the sky. No, this isn't a landscape forgotten by progress. But in the still of a cool morning, with golden beams of sunrise filtering through the woods, bobwhites whistling from the hayfield, cattle lowing in the distance—and with a nostalgic sense of connection to the souls who walked this ground over centuries past—you'd swear there's no better place on Earth. |