He was a crochety old man. He lived catacorner from the school playground and across the street from the sports field.
We were supposed to
be watching the football or baseball game, but of course it was much more fun
to be playing our own game in the parking lot directly across the street from
old John. Don’t let the ball cross the
street into his yard. It was a lost ball
if it got into John’s yard.
He was somebody’s grandpa, so we watched what
we said about him. What we said was
never good. That’s all I ever knew about
him. Until many years later. Long after he was dead.
Recently, a group
of local citizens started a club whose goal is to keep Lake Loveland filled
with water all year around. In the
spring, the lake fills and remains full most of the summer. As fall approaches, the inflow stops and the
lake’s water level drops even as farmer demand downstream declines. The decline in water level exposes vast
stretches of “beach.” Winter winds kick
up dust and sand storms that the lake’s neighbors don’t care for too much.
Additionally, the
lake serves as a tourist attraction and a picturesque background for lots of activities. The club members see it as a bit of false
advertisement to use pictures of the full lake for tourist brochures since the
lake spends about half of the year being a not-so-attractive mudhole.
The group
approached the city council, asking that the council take matters into their
hands to do what they can to get some control of the water level in the lake
during the winter months. The lake is
not owned by the city. It is owned by
the Loveland Greeley Irrigation Company.
Its main purpose is to provide water for Weld County farmers.
In an op-ed in the local paper, a
city councilman pointed out the difficulties of doing anything about the water
level in Lake Loveland. He says there
are nine separate boards and commissions that have a say in how much water goes
into and out of the lake and when those inputs and outflows can occur. There goes the simple solution.
Water has long been a point of contention west
of the Missouri. Many an old western
book or movie has at its core the conflict over water rights. For whoever knows what reason, the story and op-ed in
the paper stimulated memories of another “range war.”
Looking for something to do on a weekend many
years ago, the Goodwife and I, before kids, went to the museum in Oberlin,
Kansas. There my eye fell on a story
that actually occurred 40 or 50 miles west in Cheyenne County near the border
with Rawlins County where we lived.
Why wasn’t that
story in the Rawlins County Museum? I wondered.
I think because sons of one of the participants were still in their
prime and may not have wanted to see that story about their father in an
institution partially supported by their tax money.
The story is
referred to as the Dewey-Berry feud. I
read it with some interest. That
interest spiked when I came across the phrase “John Berry of Genoa, Colorado.”
Apparently, he had
made an unlucky choice to visit relatives in Western Kansas one fateful
day. Three of the Berrys were killed on
that day. According to the article in
the museum, John was called as a witness when the case went to court.
The fight was
over a stock watering tank, not exactly a fight over water. At what must have been a sheriff’s sale, the Deweys
bought the tank and had come to the Berry place to take possession of it.
There had been bad
blood between the two families, as the Deweys were ranchers and the Berrys were
squatters in the Deweys’ opinion. The
Berrys accused the Deweys of letting their cattle run over Berry crops. So, when two sides came together in the Berry
farmyard, the frustration on both sides boiled over and a gun battle ensued.
Both sides claimed the other side fired the
first shot. After the shooting, three of
the Berry men lay dead. The only Dewey casualty
was a dead horse.
As word of the
goings-on spread, an army of vigilantes composed of other settlers who had also
felt themselves victimized by the Deweys gathered at the Berry place and were considering
heading to the Dewey Ranch to even up the score. Somehow, lawmen prevented that from
happening.
Dewey and his
cowboys holed up at the ranch until the sheriff’s pleas to Topeka brought
National Guard troops to the rescue. The
Guard troops were more for the protection of the Dewey Crew who feared the mob
that was rumored to be looking for them than for help in arresting them.
Dewey and company
were arrested and taken first to Colby, then St. Francis, eventually to Topeka
where they were released on bond. The
trial took place in Norton, Kansas. The
Deweys were acquitted in the criminal trial, but were later sued for wrongful
death by the Berrys. A jury awarded the
Berrys $15,000.
As I read all
about the feud, I had to look in my memory bank and take another look at the
crochety old man who lived on the corner.
The feud occurred on June 3, 1903.
John could not have been very old then and still be around in the 1950’s
and ‘60’s.
Forty or fifty
years later, I had another “run-in” with John Berry. This time with my now-deceased neighbor. One of the guns Neighborly showed me in his
gun collection was one he bought from John Berry.
It was a civil war rifle that had been stored for years covered in
grease and wrapped in a gunny sack.
The gun belonged
to John’s father (or was it his uncle—I don’t remember for sure) and had been
used in the civil war. John was
reluctant to give up the gun but eventually succumbed to Neighborly’s persuasive powers. The gun lives on. As I studied the gun, once again I had to recalculate
my thoughts about John Berry. And what a
small world it is, maybe.
Will the water
wars of the west once again break out in armed conflict? Doubtful.
But who knows? The right
combination of swelling population, unprecedented drought, and disgruntled
water-rights holders mustn’t be dismissed out of hand.
Conflict is certain. This time, it will be over water, rivers and reservoirs,
not a stock tank.
