Gebo was once a bustling, full of life town, then the mines closed down

It has taken a few decades, but Mother Nature has reclaimed an area of land which was once a flourishing community filled with families and homes, churches, barrooms and a booming coal mine – Gebo.

All that remains now are the shells of a few stone houses on “Rock Row”, the scattered bits and pieces of the lives of some 2,000 residents and patches of shiny black coal here and there.

It all began when the railroad made its way into Hot Springs County in the mid-1900’s.

Mining claims were filed throughout 1906 and Gebo was settled in 1907, named after Samuel W. Gebo, a lawyer, who represented more than 60 individuals filing a joint mining claim out of Long Island, New York.

Those claims were then conveyed to the Owl Creek Coal Company, among others, by Gebo. It all sounded a little fishy to the Federal Government and once criminal, civil and administrative proceedings against Gebo and the other parties were started in 1912, it looked like the little town might not make it if the feds came in and closed the mines.

Fortunately, the Secretary of the Interior intervened and Congress passed a resolution authorizing the property be leased to the coal company. That didn’t, however, stop Gebo and his fellow investors from being fined $1,500 each.

Wyoming coal was in high demand, especially back East, as it burned cleaner than the coal found in other areas of the country.

That drew miners not just from places like West Virginia or Pennsylvania, but from several foreign countries as well, including Yugoslavia, Serbia and Montenegro.

At the time, mining was still done underground in shafts that were blasted out and reinforced with wood posts to ward off collapse. Along with the Owl Creek Coal mine there were others going in at the same time, creating a boom for the lumber industry, too.

Along with it being dank and dark mining underground, it was backbreaking work, between shoveling the coal into the mining cars to roll back up the tracks to the surface, to the constant fear of a tunnel collapse, or worse, a fire underground.

As with other mining communities, homes were owned by the coal company and even the places the miner’s and their families shopped were company owned. Coal to heat their homes was dropped off at a cost of one dollar per truck load.

The melting pot of cultures made life in the coal camp special in many ways. Different holidays celebrated by neighbors, yet always shared with those around them.

And while the homes and everything else was owned by the coal companies, they did throw some amazing celebrations for the Fourth of July and Labor Day, filled with all kinds of food and fun.

Games for the kids were always a big hit at the celebrations along with foot races for both adults and kids, speakers from the mining industry, a huge barbeque and dance along with the occasional boxing matches for the men to enjoy.

Music was everywhere. The miners even had their own band, complete with uniforms, and would do evening performances in the summer at the band shell behind the pool hall.

Of course there were sports in school as well, and a rivalry between the little mining towns in the area, Crosby and Kirby, was always worth going to catch a game. The high school not only had excellent basketball teams, but they fielded an all-girl drill team, too.

By 1938 the mines had closed down. An underground fire in the Owl Creek mine burned for decades. Other mines had lost their coal vein and despite using the best equipment available at the time, where the vein reappeared was never located.

Most families moved into Thermopolis. The homes that the coal companies owned were sold and some were moved into town. Many of those homes can be found off 14th Street along Johnson and Warren Streets.

Out at Gebo itself, about all that remains are the shells of the homes on Rock Row and a lone cemetery where several infants are buried.

If you were to Google Gebo, you’ll find the Internet filled with ghost stories about the cemetery, complete with the sounds of crying children and wailing mothers.

Its sad, really, to think this once bustling town that was once so vibrant and full of life has been diminished to a few rusted remains and questionable ghost stories.